Judas' face clouded over. It was ringing far too many bells. This wasn't what he'd wanted. He didn't want to relate to another human. He already felt connected to one and it was making things difficult, with guilt and genuine concern nagging at him, this wasn't what he wanted at all.
He rose suddenly and stalked a few paces away, angry and confused. What were these little bloodbags doing to him? Two thousand years he had survived with his righteous anger and aloofness, and barely a handful of weeks here and they were making him feel. They were His children, Judas was not supposed to feel this. He didn't want to feel! He wanted to be that cold, vile, unfeeling monster that only cared about his own interests. He didn't want to care about anyone else.
He didn't ever want to have to betray another person he cared about.
His back to Sam, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Pale fists clenched in fury. "I am sorry I asked," he practically snarled, not looking back over his shoulder.