Summary: AU of the confrontation between Michael and Lucifer. Sequel to Trade All My Tomorrows.
Spoilers: Sort of spoilers for 5.19 (The Hammer of the Gods) onwards.
Warnings: Mention of suicide.
The day was grey and unremarkable. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, thunder maybe, dark roiling clouds, fire falling to the ground as rain. Lucifer did like to be dramatic. Instead the weather matched his mood, grey and empty and utterly apathetic. There was very little left of him. Everything he once was had been eroded away by Gabriel's death, by Lucifer's hand in Gabriel's death, by the fast ending conclusion to his destiny until all that was left was a sense of detachment. He realised that somewhere deep inside he'd been waiting for something that would never happen: Lucifer to change, his father to stop it all, something, anything that would mean he wouldn't have to kill the brother he'd raised. But he'd begun to accept that this would never come to pass and this should have been a relief (how hard could it be to kill your brother if you no longer cared?) But still he worried, turning it all over in his head over and over trying to see a way out or a loophole and finding none. He couldn't fight destiny. It was useless trying.
And yet even now facing his little brother he wondered if he was really strong enough. He had tried fuelling his fury at Lucifer for killing Gabriel, tried making himself angry enough to kill Lucifer without hesitation. It hadn't worked, stronger than the anger or the grief at Gabriel's death was the desperation not to lose another sibling. He'd already lost Gabriel, he had no desire to lose Lucifer too.
"Hello Michael." Just as he'd remembered Lucifer layered about six different contradictory meanings into the short phrase. Lucifer had always had a way with words, a charm and smooth speech that the rest of them, bar perhaps Gabriel, could not hope to match or, at times, hope to understand. There had a been a time where Lucifer's fascination with words had been restricted simply to just that, a fascination and an interest. That had been the time when he'd been able to understand him. And then their father had made the humans and everything changed and talking to Lucifer became a careful negotiation through a mine field of half truths and omitted facts.
"I've missed you." Lucifer continued, his voice carefully detached now as though the words and the meaning they carried were of little importance. And in a way they weren't. Michael had missed Lucifer too but it wouldn't, couldn't, affect what happened.
"I've missed you too." he answered. He owed Lucifer that, an admittance, a truth. Not that he could ever make up for what he was about to do, but he may as well try in the short time they had together.
"Then why are we doing this?" He'd expected this, just maybe not so soon.
"Lucifer -" he began wearily but was cut off.
"Why Michael? Why stay loyal to him? He probably won't even notice if we walk away." Lucifer's words were imploring, eyes beseeching and it hurt because Lucifer never would understand. He'd always claimed to love them and Michael didn't doubt that was true but he'd never really trusted any of them. Michael trusted; he had faith in his father and he would follow his father's commands because he knew that was right no matter how he felt about it.
"You know I have to kill you Lucifer." he replied evenly, not letting his voice betray that no matter how many times he told himself this was his father's will, his destiny, he still doubted. He wasn't supposed to doubt. He was an archangel, a good son, he wasn't supposed to doubt.
"Because you are a good son?" Lucifer asked snidely, cutting into his thoughts as though he knew exactly what he'd been thinking. Maybe Lucifer did. Lucifer had always been good at reading people and he'd always been straightforward and uncomplicated. It wouldn't be hard for Lucifer to guess the direction his thoughts were running.
"Because I am a good son." he confirmed simply. He refused to give Lucifer any further ammunition with complicated heartfelt answers. He refused to let Lucifer see how close he was to falling, to walking away and following in his little brothers rebellious steps.
Couldn't let Lucifer see how every single second was a struggle, how with each passing minute he grew more tempted to walk away. His actions had already indirectly caused the death of one brother, could he kill another? Could he feel the earth move and the wind howl again, this time knowing it was his hand that had caused it. Would it even be physically possible for him to reach out and stab Lucifer?
"So you kill me. And you and the others bring paradise to earth and everyone's happy. Well done. But what are you then Michael? What's the use of you after that. You were created to be a weapon and the second you kill me you are over. The others won't need you, no one will need you."
The words hit home, burning through the layers of ice that numbed him almost to the point where he could no longer feel. Alone. No Gabriel, no Lucifer, Raphael distant else questioning his orders, no longer a brother. His younger siblings seeing him only as a superior, a commander, a weapon. If he carried out what he'd always been destined for what would happen to him then? His destiny had never mentioned an after. He'd lived without Gabriel before of course, but he'd known Gabriel was there, alive somewhere. Even after Gabriel's death Lucifer had been there, rebellious and fallen but still there. What would it be like to feel truly alone?
"Kill me and you'll just be alone for eternity." Lucifer finished. His voice was soft, eyes gentle, but there was a triumph in him he couldn't quite hide from his elder brother. Fury replaced the dread and suddenly he longed to make Lucifer feel something, wanted Lucifer to hurt like Lucifer had hurt them.
"I wouldn't have to be alone if you hadn't killed Gabriel." Lucifer's eyes widened for a the briefest of seconds, shock written clearly on his face as though he hadn't expected Michael to verbally strike back. But then his face cleared and he readopted his nonchalant demeanour.
"It was self defence."
"You have an excuse for everything."
"It's not an excuse, it's fact. And you wouldn't be so keen to defend him if you knew he wanted you dead too."
The words filled with so much anger and venom hurt a little, worming their way into his heart and forcing the wound Gabriel's death had left on him open once more. And then he remembered Gabriel's letter and thought of the words written in a hurried, hurt, honest scrawl and he held onto them like a talisman to deflect Lucifer's words. He tried not to think about how Gabriel had died for nothing, how Lucifer was not back in his cage, how Lucifer would die soon which was the one thing Gabriel hadn't wanted. He felt cold and empty again and the ache in his chest that had been there since he'd felt Gabriel die grew stronger and more persistent.
"Did you know he wanted to kill me? Did you stand by and do nothing because if he succeeded you'd be free of your duty? Were you upset when he died because he was dead or because he'd failed and you knew you'd have to kill me?" Lucifer spat, anger radiating from him in dangerous icy pulses.
This time the words hit their mark and it hurt more than if Lucifer had physically struck him. It wasn't the actual words which alone were off but the implication that he was selfish, that he hadn't cared enough about Gabriel, that all he could think about was his duty. He remembered being frozen in that forgotten sunlit grove, unable to move, unable to kill Lucifer even to save Gabriel, too preoccupied with his destiny to find his brother to stop him.
"He was your brother. You used to love him." He spat, pain and anger ridding him of the appearance of icy control he'd so carefully maintained. He knew it was a mistake allowing Lucifer to get into his head but Lucifer had opened up all his wounds, new and old, and that had made it almost impossible to keep his barriers up.
"And I still do!" The words were an outburst, so full of sorrow and desperation and anger while utterly lacking in anything close to the casual façade Lucifer had put up. Lucifer seemed surprised he'd spoken, like the words had been ripped out of him without his consent.
"I love you all, more than anything." Lucifer continued, the words softer now and more controlled. His voice was full of determination as though he thought if he said it hard enough he'd get him to believe it.
"That's not true. You didn't love us more than yourself, or your pride. You could have just held your tongue and learnt to put up with the humans and we'd have all been together. You've always been selfish Lucifer. You made dad leave, you made Gabriel leave -"
"No one makes us do anything."
The words were oddly formed, not quite the right phrasing to be a response but they seemed to strike some kind of chord in Lucifer; he reeled back ever so slightly, grace trembling for a spilt second. For just a moment he was open and plain to read as a book, fragile and transparent as glass, eyes wide, mouth half open. And then the mask shuttered back into place completely and he closed off, the vulnerability and guilt fading from his eyes leaving them blank. He half turned away, turned back looking lost.
"Is it too late to say I'm sorry?" Lucifer asked. It sounded like a quip but there was something underneath, an undercurrent of desperation as though he was begging for some kind of forgiveness for something playing on his mind. But Lucifer was too closed off now for him to be able to tell if the emotion was real.
"It's too late for anyone to believe you." he replied carefully and Lucifer nodded sadly like this is exactly what he'd expected.
"Better get on with it then."
Not sure about this one. Thoughts? Thanks for reading.