AN: The third drabble with a prompt integrity.

Takes place after season 8, when they get out of Hell and Michael learns that he should had been there earlier.


He leans to Adam's hand that brushes through his hair.

"You could have done nothing to prevent it," Adam says softly letting Michael lean on him. He's thankful for the boy who doesn't expect him to reply, is just there, letting Michael mourn.

He knew things wouldn't stay stagnant while he was in Hell, he couldn't hide behind an excuse that he didn't realize something like this could happen. The Heaven was deserted, many of his siblings dead, far too many in vain, and the ones left now being cast down to Earth.

He can't make himself to blame Castiel. He had seen how his brother had already beaten himself up over his mistakes. Over the mistakes he had done under a pressure which hadn't even been meant for him, not Raphael, not anyone but Michael himself. He's the one who had failed his brothers and sisters, let them down, abandoned them.

"Michael," Adam says quietly removing his hand from the angel's hair and putting it on Michael's which holds to Adam's another one. Only now Michael realizes that his grip has become painfully tight. When he releases his hold, Adam moves so that they are face to face making the archangel meet his gaze.

"It's not your fault," he says running his fingers on his cheeks. But when nothing changes in Michael's eyes, he sighs dejectedly closing his eyes and leans in pressing their foreheads together.

It's absurd how one small human can disarm him so completely, strip him from all his titles, his composure, his righteousness. He leans in the last inch letting himself to be liberated.