Sam felt nothing short of relieved when he realized that Sunshine was coming around. A little. It'd take some serious effort on his part to get her to trust him in the slightest, but the fact that she was at least able to try getting on with him in a civil sort of way was encouraging. Sunshine was listening. That was far more than Sam had been able to get out of anyone else he'd faced in this type of situation. Even Jo, someone he knew and trusted, hadn't been capable of comprehending that there was something severely screwed up going on. If Sunshine was able to, then maybe his theories weren't so far off. Maybe no one was really possessed after all. Sam ran a large hand along the shadow lining his jaw, nodding in agreement with Sunshine's analysis of the whole what bad guys did and didn't do. She was right. There was definitely a painful monologue left to be endured. He didn't have one, save the whole trying to convince her that he wasn't evil thing. "Exactly," Sam said carefully. "I'm not doing any of that stuff, am I? That's your first clue right there that there's something off about all this, isn't there?" Sam didn't move. He didn't dare. If he took one off step and made Sunshine think that he was trying to act out against her, that was it. She'd attack or run, neither of which Sam wanted to see happen.
...so, she had noticed. About the blood. Sam inwardly swore, eyes immediately dropping down to the floor in what could have only been described as shame. "I'm sorry." What was he supposed to say? That he had thought that she was a demon and, as such, his first reaction was to obsess over her blood rather than exorcise her? Oh, yeah. That'd go over real well. "I didn't mean - it's complicated. What happened there. But I swear, I'm not gonna do anything crazy. I won't even look at your arm when you patch it up, okay? I didn't mean to..." Sam drew in a deep breath, eyes still fixated on anything but the woman standing before him. "I'm sorry." Even when he had been trying to do the right thing, that damned addiction had crept up on him. Why couldn't he shake it already? Biting down hard on his lip, Sam carefully moved over to the far end of the sink and dropped the first aid kit down onto the counter. "You've already passed every test. This room is demon proof. You couldn't have gotten if you weren't actually a demon." Sam awkwardly jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I'll let you clean up. If that really does need stitches, we can get someone back at the group to fix it up for you. I don't have to touch you." Sam nearly found himself apologizing again. Instead, he carefully turned and stepped into the main room. He'd load up. Pick out some more supplies from the stuff that he'd left behind before the city had gone to hell. Sunshine wouldn't have to worry about him. Sam would keep the suspicious behavior to as much of a minimum as he could manage.
I don't know who or what you are, Sam. There was an answer to the what. It was just a word that Sam didn't particularly like sharing with the rest of the world. He called himself a monster enough without having others spit the name in his face. Quietly, Sam dropped down onto the edge of his bed, taking enough faith in his theory about the demons not really being demons to turn his back to Sunshine in the process. Sam reached under the bed and dragged a large duffel bag out onto the floor. There were a few ranged weapons inside. He'd offer Sunshine one. Keep a few for himself. If anything, maybe the extension of something that Sunshine could defend herself with would make her realize that he really wasn't out to get her. Sam genuinely hoped so.