Thunder boomed in the sky, momentary blocking out the clash of weapons and the screams and whimpers of the dying. Lighting flashed and the Angels fell with the rain.
Michael saw the whole battle in fragments, short bursts of action, allowing millennia old instincts guide his lance.
Zachariah stabbing a demon, its empty vessel collapsing to the ground.
Uriel screams as he is overcome by a hoard of demons; It is the last sound he makes.
A group of humans, a family, cowers in an ally, the children sob, the mother weeps and silent tears run down the Fathers face as he prays for the nightmare to end.
His own lance pierces the enemy and it bursts into smoke, but another always takes its place.
And in the sky, angels slay angels, a horrific sight reminiscent of Heaven's first war, and just like that time, Michael cannot save everyone.
Amid all the noise and chaos across the city, a gunshot rang out, and Michael would not have noticed such an insignificant sound, had it not been for the pain in his leg that brought his attention solely to himself.
Michael had been shot.
It should not have hurt, but as Michael examined the bullet, he found that it was made out of holy metal. One of his fallen sibling's blades had been desecrated. Anger mounting, Michael turned to find the perpetrators. It was a small group of humans firing on everyone, demons, and angels.
"Fools" Michael growled, striding toward them. "We are protecting you-" He was cut off as he was fired at again.
And Michael snapped.
All of his anger- at Lucifer, at Castiel and everyone who followed him, at his Father, at himself, and at these humans who had the audacity to shoot at him, when he was fighting this war, and sacrificing his own family for them- It exploded from him in a roar, crushing everything in its wake. It felt good, and Michael laughed.
Then everything went dark.
Michael awoke to find himself covered in his vessel's blood. The body was not doing well, it was covered in lesions were the Archangel was poking through. Michael himself was doing badly. He felt weak and barely conscious. He stood and just barely caught a figure on the edge of his vision.
Holy fire sprang to life around him, forming a perfect circle. Anger surged through Michael. "How dare-"
"Yes, yes. How dare I capture Regent of Heaven himself, blah blah blah." The speaker stepped into the light of the flames reveling a red-eyed Demon. It gave Michael a thin smile. "Name's Crowley. King of the Crossroads"
Michael stepped forward, the combined force of the souls and his grace preparing to dampen to holy flames, but the power surge within caused the cuts in his vessels skin to widen
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you" Crowley cautioned "Your vessels looking worse for wear as it is, especially after that stunt you just pulled. Any more strain might destroy it…"
"It wouldn't be the only thing destroyed" Michael spat
"No doubt" Crowley agreed "Such an explosion would level a quarter of the city at least, killing everyone in its radius, demons, angels, and humans alike, and me. But of course, you can always just get another vessel…except" The demon winced "You really can't, can you? With all your destructions humans are starting to learn that Angels are not the fluffy winged, harp playing do-gooders that they believed you to be."
And even you managed to convince one of them to say yes" Crowley continued "You'd still be stuck in a subpar vessel, never able to fully unleash your true power."
"Do you have a point?" Michael asked coldly.
The demon smiled. "What if I told you I had a way to strengthen your vessel. Strengthen it so that it not only holds you but also all those souls you've been consuming."
Cold fury flashed in Michaels' eyes. "I don't make deals with demons"
"Up until recently, you'd never even have considered eating human souls." Crowley countered.
There was a brief silence. Michael was loath to admit it, but the demon was right.
"Continue," Michael said stiffly
"There's a certain powerful book that came into my possession recently. A book containing spells that can strengthen a vessel."
Michael folded his arms. "Are you so eager to betray your King? The one you call the father" Michael's distaste at the name was palpable.
Crowley smiled bitterly "Let's just say I'm not as confident as some of my colleagues of our survival when the war ends."
Michael laughed "Lucifer and I seldom agree, but I believe we are of a similar mind regarding your kind. What makes you think I will make a deal with you?"
"Mutual need," Crowley said simply "You need to stabilize your vessel, preferably before Lucifer does, and I need guaranteed protection."
There was another silence as Michael considered. Every molecule of his being rebelled at the thought of striking a deal, it was against his very nature, but if he could solve the vessel problem once and for all…
He remembered the battle, his brothers and sisters dying, sometimes by each other's own hand, and he remembered the human family, the father's head bent in prayer.
A desperate prayer to save his family.
Besides he could always kill the demon when its usefulness expired. He eyed Crowley. "I…accept," He said through gritted teeth.
"Wonderful," Crowley smirked. He pulled a roll of Parchment seemingly out of thin air. "Let's talk businesses"
Michael felt a surge of guilt and foreboding. How many more of his morals would he have to sacrifice to follow his father's orders? He almost sent a plea for forgiveness towards his father but stopped as an unexpected wave of anger came over him.
He had done nothing to warrant needing forgiveness from a father who had abandoned him millennia ago.