a/n. Hello, you lovely darling muffins~! It's been a while! I don't really have anything new to say, just a small, meager offering.
I'm sorry I'm not around here too often lately. I spend most of my time on tumblr and I'm working on moving all my things to AO3 I'll put up a notice when that happens officially~ my tumblrs can be found on my profile~
Anywho, some mild notes on what to expect:
.Teen Wolf lore used for packs and wolf weaknesses.
.Human!Angels
.Written for my lovely girlfriend. Still working out the kinks.
.On a lesser note, my headcanon image for human!Michael is Zachary Quinto. human!Lucifer is the same as Nick vessel!Lucifer. And then, of course, Gabriel and Raphael in their best known vessels.
...Uhm. I have nothing else to add. Er. This is the first thing I've attempted to write in a few months, but /bows. please enjoy.
Normally, Michael wouldn't be out this late.
He wouldn't still be wandering the forest; he should be at home, resting and getting ready to put up with his brothers for the next few weeks. But he knows there's something. Just a little bit further.
He hadn't believed any of the rumours; ghosts are ridiculous. He knows facts—that there's a family in the forest; secluded, tight-knit. A family that reminds him of his brothers when they were younger. Before Lucifer decided that starting fights with Raphael every five minutes was a good idea, before Gabriel fell off the radar for months and years at a time. Michael tries not to focus on the fact that Gabriel only shows up for their get-togethers because Kali makes him, or when he knows that Raphael and Lucifer aren't going to be there.
Either way; he should be at home, trying to figure out how he's going to put up with all three of them being within arms length of one another and he should probably secure his weapons. (He'll need to secure their weapons, too, now that he considers it; last time, Lucifer had managed to get a skinning knife into the house and nearly taken Raphael's arm off. It had taken Michael at least three hours, probably longer, to get Gabriel to stop hiding in the basement, and another hour to get Lucifer to stop sulking in the living area.)
A branch snapping draws his attention and he shifts the flashlight, just a little. He wonders if he should have brought a firearm when the light reflects and shines back from a pair of eyes and he frowns. The form snarls at him and moves out of the light before he can really see what it is. The movement is clumsy, at best, despite the speed and the figure collapses a few feet away. He doesn't follow with the flashlight, if only to keep from startling or aggravating it more; just tries to make out details in the darkness.
It remains hunched over, struggling to right itself. The growls are unmistakably animal-like, despite the vaguely human motions. Too familiar.
He berates himself for not bringing a firearm.
At the same time, he can't see himself needing one. He shifts a little closer, slowly, cautiously, and the wolf snarls at him again; this time he can see the flash of gold in the darkness. Not an Alpha, at least… and even if it were, something's wounded the wolf. Something is concealing it's healing abilities.
There's no natural wolfsbane in the area; and, he hadn't heard any gunfire in a few days, so it can't be bullet-based wolfsbane, the wolf would've been dead already. A shock-collar, maybe, but it wouldn't be able to move as much as it had if that were the case.
Michael decides to figure it out later and kneels, carefully, to set the flashlight down and holds his hands up slowly, "I'm not armed."
Golden eyes narrow at him; the lack of trust doesn't surprise him. He imagines he still smells like gun powder, possibly ash.
"I won't hurt you. I want to help."
"You expect me to believe that?" A young man's voice, little more than a snarl to cover pain.
Michael frowns. The words still don't necessarily surprise him, but he's wondering why the wolf hasn't attempted howling for his pack.
"If you didn't believe me, your pack would have jumped me by now… or you would have called for them at least." He creeps forward, just a little, and extends a hand, "Let me help. You're injured."
The wolf still doesn't attempt to howl, he doesn't stop glaring; but, after a moment longer, he looks down. There's something that almost resembles worry in his voice, "… M'pack isn't comin'… don't think they are, anyhow."
"… Are they in danger?"
"I don't know. Alpha told us to scatter. Haven't seen the others in a… week… I think."
Michael nods, vaguely. It would explain why he hasn't howled yet; why he hasn't heard any howling.
"That's all right… we can look for them in the morning. You aren't healing. I can help."
The wolf glares at him again. Michael tries to put on a vague smile, the way he does for Gabriel and Jimmy.
"My name's Michael. I have a cabin about twenty minutes walk from here. I can help. You'll be safe there until you're back on your feet."
No response; but, the wolf gives something of a nod. His eyes have stopped glowing gold, at the very least, and he's struggling to stand upright again. Michael pockets his flashlight and closes the distance between them, still cautious, to help him to his feet.
He can feel tiny scrapes on the wolf's palms, and patches of dried blood staining his shirt; he's healing, just not as quickly as he should be. In the darkness, Michael can't tell if it's due to the injuries or perhaps from exhaustion.
"Can you even tell where you're going?" The wolf sounds annoyed, mostly to cover the hiss of pain when he tries to walk; even with Michael's help, he's limping and leaning heavily.
"I have a vague idea, yes. I'd like to think you would warn me if I were going to walk into anything." He's moderately amused and tries not to smile when the wolf gives a small snort.
"I can't even see straight right now."
Even so, the wolf manages to keep him from tripping over any of the thicker roots, and avoids a few of the lower branches. The walk is mostly silent, save the wolf occasionally snapping at him to watch where he steps.
[x]
As soon as they're back inside his cabin, Michael sets the wolf on his couch. He hisses in pain and tries to find a comfortable position before he gives up and just falls over to lay face down in the couch.
Michael shakes his head, vaguely, and wanders into his study. As far as he could tell during the walk, most of the issues were exhaustion. There's nothing inherently life-threatening at the moment. Nothing that requires special treatment, so he settles with a basic first-aid kit—the one he usually keeps hidden away for when Lucifer and Raphael decide they don't want to be civil with one another—and returns to the living area. The wolf is still face down and he sighs.
"Please sit up, I can't examine you if you remain that way."
"Go fuck yourself." The reply is muffled and, honestly, Michael's heard worse from his brothers. Still, despite the bite to the words, he's struggling back into an upright position a few minutes later and scowling again. "Your house smells like mountain ash."
"I'm aware. But, you were invited in." Michael smiles, "And, should your pack turn up, they are welcome as well." He motions for the young man to take his shirt off.
"You have weapons somewhere." He promptly ignores the gesture and Michael just gives him a look.
"I do. I do not intend to use them. Now. Your shirt, please."
A moment longer and the shirt is finally discarded, thrown carelessly towards the coffee table. Michael makes a note to find him something to wear later and turns his focus to the small scrapes along his arms.
His torso has healed; no wounds, just smears of dried blood. The scrapes seem to be more from running through the forest than from actual conflict; but, there are vague cuts and bruises along his knuckles. If there was a fight, he didn't shift for it.
It doesn't take long to clean. He considers offering a bath, but… the more he thinks about it, the more he doesn't want to risk the wolf passing out and drowning. He sighs; that can wait.
"There's a guest room down the hall—"
"There's a couch right here?" The wolf quirks a brow at him, "A surprisingly comfortable couch."
"Er… if… that's what you would prefer, very well." Michael blinks, "Would you like a different set of clothes to sleep in, at least? I can't imagine your wish to sleep in your jeans… and your shirt is probably better disposed of."
He shrugs, "If it'd make you feel better. I was just going to kick them off."
Michael feels his eye twitch and he disappears down to his own room, soon returning with a spare set of pajamas. The wolf eyes them for a moment, "… If you're going to give me something that clean, shouldn't a bath come first."
"The bath can wait. I'm… fairly certain you aren't healing due to physical exhaustion." Michael sets the clothes on the back of the couch, "You said you have not seen your pack in a week?" The wolf nods, already fighting to pull the shirt over his head, "I doubt you've slept in that time. A bit of sleep should be more than enough to let your healing kick in. We'll do a more thorough exam in the morning. For now, you need rest."
He stays, just long enough to make sure that the pajamas fit and gives a passing nod of approval, "I'll be down the hall if you need me. Sleep well."
"… Adam."
"I'm sorry?"
"Adam." The wolf is already curling up on the couch, ignoring the blanket folded over the back of the couch, and gives a wide yawn, "M'name's Adam. And… y'know… thanks. And stuff."
Michael smiles and nods, "You're welcome… get some sleep, Adam."
He thinks there's a mumble of acknowledgement, but Adam's already fast asleep, curled into a tight ball. Michael watches a moment longer before carefully unfolding and lowering the blanket over him. The wolf doesn't seem to notice past burying his face in the fabric.
Michael finally retreats to his own room, with a vague, nagging feeling that he's forgotten something.
[x]
Michael doesn't wake up to his alarm in the morning.
He wakes up to his front door being thrown open and a mix of angry snarls and shouting.
He growls, darkly, against his pillow before he sits up, intent on just throwing Lucifer and Raphael out before it dawns on him. He swears under his breath and hurries back to the living area.
Adam's perched on the back of the couch, already shifted—looking much better, too; the scrapes have faded into his skin at the very least, despite the dark bags under his eyes still— and snarling at the door. Lucifer has his shotgun and Raphael has a crossbow. Michael doesn't see Gabriel (thankfully) and has no problem raising his voice at those two at least.
"Lucifer! Raphael! Not in my house!"
The two startle, appropriately, he supposes; but, they don't lower their weapons, even when they throw him identical, demanding looks for explanation. Adam doesn't even give him a moment of acknowledgement, his eyes still narrowed and fixed intently on the other two. Michael glares, "Lower your weapons, now. He's not a threat. He's a guest." He turns, not waiting to see if they comply and his tone becomes much softer, "Adam, it's all right. They aren't enemies."
The wolf gives him an accusatory glare, eyes flashing bright gold still. Michael gestures at them, vaguely, "I'm sure you noticed already. They're my brothers. It's all right."
Slowly, he shifts back to human and lowers himself back to the couch. But, he doesn't stop glaring at Lucifer and Raphael. Michael sighs and finally turns his attention to them as well, "You weren't supposed to be here until much later."
"Came in early." Lucifer shrugs, finally holstering his shotgun to his leg. Raphael rolls his eyes. He lowers the crossbow, but doesn't close it.
"Obviously. We heard… troubling news from the region. We expected Gabriel would have shown up earlier… but, we have not seen him. And thiswe were not expecting to see."
Michael ignores that there's a violent glaring contest going between the two and frowns, lightly, "News?"
Lucifer just tosses a stack of newspapers on the coffee table before he announces that he's going to raid the kitchen. Raphael scowls after him, vaguely, and settles into the armchair, his crossbow resting against his leg. Michael glances at the coverpage of the first paper and frowns.
Mutilated Bodies Identified
He's glancing over the names of the victims before it finally strikes him that Adam is still just behind him. When he glances over his shoulder, the wolf is staring at the cover picture (not of bodies, thankfully; but of a ransacked house that Michael can only assume is the home of the victims). He's gone pale and doesn't blink for quite a while. The first motion he makes is to reach for the paper before he stops, his eyes moving to linger on the list of victims. His arm finally drops and his voice is quiet.
"I told you my pack wasn't coming."
to be continued
if you notice any typos, please point them out /bows