"'m not," John mumbled, only half-cognizant of what he was saying. The worst of the fit was passing, now he was horizontal and no longer abusing his damaged memory, but it had taken a heavy toll. He hadn't felt so frazzled or so drained in weeks. "Jus' bits an' pieces...random shit. Mostly not too important." He sighed deeply. "Mostly. Saved everything else that mattered...dunno how I'll tell Crowley I lost it...not every day a demon gives you back your soul."

A hazy sense of foreboding coupled with a small spike of pain told him then that he'd better shut up, that he'd already said too much and risked triggering another episode if he dwelt on it. Later on, he'd analyze what Loki might do with that kind of information and panic appropriately, but for now he just wanted desperately to sleep.