"I'll keep an eye on it, but." Sam held his hand up again, fingers stretched out, still throbbing with color. "I'm pretty sure it's not contagious." He wasn't sure what he'd do if it was contagious, if he'd started to lose his color. he'd deal with it, but Sam...He shook his head. It was a moot point, because it wasn't going to happen.
Sam wanted to tell his other self he needed to get a life. He needed to get out more, do things. He wasn't doing much more than existing, and that was sad. Life had never been easy for him, but so much more waited out there, beyond the library and walking the dog. Especially here, where there didn't seem to be the pull of Heaven and Hell. Even Lucifer was long gone, and as far as Sam could tell the city has a wicked sense of humor and liked to play games but people were rarely ever hurt, unless they did it to themselves.
But he couldn't just come out with something like that. For all the inner strength Sam knew his other self possessed to endure the things he'd been forced to face, he was fragile. He could stand up against so much, but the right blow, delivered just so, could crumble everything, and Sam wasn't going to be the one to do it.
"Have you eaten? We should get something to eat before we head back to the hotel. I'm so over the hotel kitchens."