Pairing: Michael/Castiel
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Notes: Written for zekkass on livejournal.
Prompts: Halo!Fic and crystal
The thing about halos is that they're not all pulsing light and energy. Well, they're made from Grace and energy, but they can be made solid. They look like crystals and no, they don't just float around an Angel's head. Not in their solid form. They're also surprisingly easy to break, to shatter.
Michael's halo shimmers into view, gold and bright. Castiel stares at it, fingers brushing against the feather in his pocket. He feels the rush of power that comes from Grace becoming something real, something tangible. Michael gently cradles his halo in his hands, mindful of how easy it is to shatter.
Castiel watches him silently, missing his own halo, but he's so close to being human now that he can't call it up, can't press it into it's solid form. He can barely even feel it with his Grace, the little he has left. Michael knows this, hates seeing a fellow Angel fall so far, but there's nothing he can do. It's not his battle.
His halo glows brightly in his cupped hands, illuminating his face as he holds it up to eye level, contemplating it. Castiel watches still, rooted to the spot, captivated by his eldest brother's Grace. It swirls all around them, pulsing through the feather and brushing against Castiel's waning Grace. Michael stretches out his arms, hands opening up and letting his halo hover above them.
The crack is loud and ringing, almost a touch, scraping against Castiel's ears. He stares in shock as Michael calmly breaks his own halo into pieces. Each time he does it, the broken piece flares painfully bright before dimming, though Grace still shines in it. By the time he's finished, it's in five pieces, all perfectly sized.
He steps closer to Castiel, closing his hand over the other four pieces and willing them away. He hands Castiel a piece of his halo. "It's not my battle, but you are my brother and so I will protect you the only way I can."
Castiel stares at Michael, questions forming on the tip of his tongue, but Michael silences him with a gentle touch to his forehead. "Sleep, brother."
He is gone with a flutter of wings, the other four pieces of his crystallized halo in his hand. It's time to meet with his other brothers.
When Castiel awakes again, there is a warmth in his hand, pulsing gently, a feeling of Grace infused in the crystal. He stares at the piece of Michael's broken halo and feels unbearably sad for a moment before strengthening his resolve and gathering his determination. He's not going to lose this war.
He stands, steeling his diminished Grace and preparing himself to rejoin the Winchesters and see what they're battling against now. He drops the crystal into his pocket along with the feather. The combined burst of Grace from them both gives his own a much-needed burst and he feels stronger, silently sending a prayer of thanks to Michael as he goes.
