like father, like son (rob)
Sam had mostly acclimatized to this whole situation. He was almost, but not quite, used to living in medieval times-- used to the strangeness of everything else, the individuals in their 'group' that approached him every once in a while. He was almost even used to the strangest part of all, the simple fact that he was not alone in his own head. The angel hadn't caused him any difficulty since the spectacle of healing Rose, and even that hadn't been purposeful, so far as Sam knew. Ezekiel was, for the most part, quiet and dormant and barely noticeable, except when Sam attempted to reach out to him, mentally.
Of course, it was impossible to forget that he was there. Sam's mind was accustomed to the practice of reminding him what was wrong in any given moment: for years it had reminded him that he was demon-blooded, and then it had very literally taken the task upon itself to remind Sam of his time in hell, through hallucinations of the devil. Now, it kept him aware of the angelic consciousness inside him, which manifested largely in the fact that Sam felt good. Really good, really healthy, for the first time in longer than he could remember. He knew that he wasn't actually as healthy as he felt; if the angel left him now, he might not die, but he'd certainly be a lot worse off. It was more the angel's energy that was keeping him running, and every time he realized that, it reined him in, kept him from feeling too optimistic about the situation. But so far, he had no real reason to complain. The angel was keeping to the agreement.
Until one day while he was out in the town, completely out of nowhere, he suddenly felt a surge of angelic energy rising inside him. He started to struggle, but all the angel did was turn his head, forcibly directing his attention to a person that was down the street. Still conscious, Sam realized that he was being allowed to see what the angel was seeing-- not for the first time, and he stopped struggling for a moment to try to process the information. Angelic sight showed much more than his mind was entirely able to comprehend, though he was so fascinated by it that he'd been trying. And now Ezekiel was showing him something without being asked, so there had to be something important.
The person was human, male, and from a point in time ahead of Sam's, as well as a different reality. But there was something... something that Sam's mind was having trouble processing, though whether that was a translation between human and angelic mental processes or because of simple disbelief, he didn't know. He was fairly certain of what he was seeing, yet he didn't believe it. His mind objected, trying to rationalize it away, that the angel must be mistaken, or that he'd misunderstood what he was being shown.
And he realized, belatedly, that the angel had retreated back into his subconscious, leaving him back in control of his body and mind and still staring at the boy-- man, really-- that stood about a hundred yards away. He was still too stunned by the experience to move for a moment, and then he attempted to pull himself together, before starting to walk in the other man's direction. There was really only one way to find out if what the angel was trying to tell him was true or not.
But once he got closer, he found that he had no idea how to begin this conversation. "Hi," he said, a little awkwardly, unable to help the way his gaze was still searching the man's face for clues, though there was a lot less information to be had when he was looking through his own, human eyes. Still... there was an unnerving resemblance, and although he was thoroughly unsettled by the implications of it, Sam was determined to persevere. "Sorry, it's just-- I saw you at the ball, and I have the strangest feeling that I should know who you are. Do you know me?"