Day Three.

"Don't tell me you stayed up all night again…"

Lucifer paused, just for a second, and looked up. He was busying himself with cleaning up the rest of the feathers until he was called into the precinct - He'd decided not to go in that day until Chloe needed him for something, spend his free time trying to pick up the mess in the penthouse. He was genuinely surprised by how many feathers there still were, scattered all over the floor. It was honestly ridiculous and Lucifer was about ready to call up to his Father and ask Him to clean up the mess since God had been the one to make their wings shed in the first place.

The former Devil flashed a sweet smile at his oldest brother, slightly nervous, but charming. "I had things to do…" He started, and sighed when Amenadiel simply groaned and facepalmed, shaking his head at his brother wordlessly. Lucifer frowned slightly, rolling his eyes and pushing himself to stand up completely. "What?"

"I think you keep forgetting that you're mortal," Amenadiel scolded, "and you need a lot more sleep now than you used to. Luci, this is dangerous. Really dangerous. Humans aren't supposed to stay up like this."

"I slept the night before!" Lucifer protested, gesturing toward his room.

"You can't skip nights anymore," Amenadiel retorted. "It's going to take a toll on you. You already look weak at the moment."

Lucifer blinked, distracted by that. "Do I?" He couldn't really take offense, at the moment. He actually wasn't feeling too great, either. For starters, he felt like someone had a hand around his throat and was squeezing for all they were worth, and every so often his nose would start tingling before settling back to normal. Oh, and, not to mention, he was aching everywhere. Everywhere.

"And you look really pale," Amenadiel added, frowning even deeper now as he walked forward. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Well-" Lucifer was about to tell his brother that he felt like he'd been hit with a bus when his phone started buzzing from the counter. "Hold that thought," He sighed, frowning, and turned away from Amenadiel, reaching out to pick the phone up and being careful not to touch any of the pieces of glass scattered around - He'd already cut himself about an hour ago by accident and had bled for at least two minutes.

"It's the Detective," Lucifer hummed, waving his phone slightly and starting to respond to the text. "I have to g-"

He stopped when the tingling feeling in his nose started up again, this time accompanied by a slowly building pressure. Lucifer took a deep breath in - which actually made it worse - and completely froze.

Amenadiel blinked, shuffling forward. "Luci-"

And then Lucifer sneezed. For probably the first time in his entire life, he sneezed. And it actually fucking hurt. Luckily, it wasn't accompanied by any snot, though, so he'd take that as a win. Still, he was actually pretty disgusted.

"You're sick," Amenadiel said immediately, sounding completely shocked at the realization while Lucifer silently rubbed at his still-aching nose. "You're sick."

"Wonderful," Lucifer grumbled sarcastically, honestly panicking a little bit. He'd never been sick before. Did this mean he couldn't go to work with the Detective now? Did he have to go to a hospital? Lucifer did not want to go to a hospital. "Maybe it'll pass," he said quickly, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. "Humans get colds all the time, right?"

"It could be more than just a cold," Amenadiel warned, frowning. "I think you should stay here and get some rest."

"What is with you and rest?" Lucifer groaned, turning to face him. "I don't need it. I'll be feeling back to normal before the day's over, I'm certain of it." He frowned. "Or, at least, I hope so. I don't want to be holed up here sick," he grumbled.

"Lucifer," Amenadiel sighed. "I may have been oblivious back then, but I'm much more observant now. And I can see that whatever this sickness is is affecting you much more than you're letting on."

"I don't lie," Lucifer protested, frowning. Then he snickered. "You really were oblivious back then, weren't you?"

"You don't tell the whole truth," Amenadiel countered, then frowned, glancing away for a second. "And, yes, I was."

Lucifer blinked, staring at him for a moment. "You're not really upset about that, are you?" He questioned, confused. "All of that was so long ago, Amenadiel."


"Lucifer?"

Lucifer flinched, visibly, his wide eyes flickering up as he turned around to face Amenadiel. He stepped back slightly, wings unfurling immediately to leave, but his brother didn't look mad. That halted Lucifer for a moment. Ever since all of this had started, every one of his siblings had been absolutely livid at him for what he'd done, what he'd started. Amenadiel just looked puzzled and maybe a little disappointed as he walked forward. "I-" Lucifer started, then faltered, wings lowering.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Amenadiel asked softly, stopping in front of him and reaching out to brush Lucifer's hair back, away from his face. Lucifer didn't say anything, folding his wings back completely as his brother tried to tame the wild curls that Lucifer no longer bothered with. "This isn't you."

"No, this is what Dad's made me," Lucifer responded bitterly, pulling away from his oldest brother abruptly. "Don't you see, Amenadiel? You can't stand there and tell me you agree with him- with Him pushing his family away for- for…"

"Father is distracted now, yes, Luci, but He still cares for us. For you," Amenadiel assured, eyebrows pulling together as he frowned at his younger brother.

"I'm sorry, Amenadiel," Lucifer let out a low, dry laugh and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "But He truly doesn't. If He did, He'd be paying more attention to his family rather than His oh-so precious toys."

"Lucifer…" Amenadiel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "It's… more complicated than that, brother. I'm sure Dad has a reason for-"

"Abandoning us?" Lucifer threw in helpfully, still sour.

Amenadiel spared him a look. "-For getting so involved with these humans." He narrowed his eyes slightly, an odd look crossing his face. Lucifer wondered, for a second, if Amenadiel felt the same way he did about the humans. The lower race. The creatures that had taken his Father's attention from His own family.

Lucifer loathed them. He doubted that would change. "Well, it's not just him," he finally said, shaking his head. "Mum's grown cold, Uriel will hardly speak to me, and M-" He winced, glancing away. "Michael…"

Amenadiel's expression had changed considerably, stepping toward his brother. "I warned him to back off. Is he still bothering you?" He demanded.

"He's always bothering me, Amenadiel, it's Michael," Lucifer mumbled, subconsciously bringing his hand up to rub at his shoulder. "Just- Between all of it, I can't do this anymore. The Silver City, it- it isn't what it used to be, our family isn't what it used to be."

Amenadiel stayed silent for a long time before suddenly stepping forward again. Lucifer flinched at first, but he froze in surprise when his brother simply pulled him into a tight hug. The younger angel stayed still for a moment, stunned, then hesitantly returned it.

"Wh- What's this for?"

"For not noticing how much you were hurting," Amenadiel murmured, resting his head on top of his younger brother's. "I'm sorry, Luci."

"It's not your fault," Lucifer muttered with a slightly breathless, bitter laugh. He closed his eyes, digging his fingers into Amenadiel's jacket and burying his face into his oldest brother's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Amenadiel chided him, shaking his head slightly.

"I'm sorry for bringing up all this drama," Lucifer said simply. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I know you, Amenadiel, you wouldn't turn against Dad, not for even a second."

"We'll be on opposing sides," Amenadiel mumbled, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Lucifer nodded faintly, then sighed and pulled away. Amenadiel kept a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. "I wish I had seen how much this was affecting you. I should have."

Lucifer blinked, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have made a difference," he responded faintly. "It's too much, brother. I can't just stand by and…"

"I know."

"Do you think He'll destroy me?" Lucifer asked suddenly. "Do you think Dad would…"

"No, Luci," Amenadiel interrupted quickly, eyes widening. "You're His son. I know you don't think so, but He really does care about you. The worse He'll do, is…"

"Send me away." Lucifer smiled bitterly. "With my luck I'll land on Earth with the humans."

"Or…" Amenadiel didn't seem to want to finish that sentence.

"Or the Underworld," Lucifer finished for him, his voice going a little softer at the thought. He stared down, uncertain, then shook his head and looked up again. "Well, whatever happens will be better than this." He gestured around.

"Better than me and Azrael?" Amenadiel asked lightly, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. Lucifer blinked, arms dropping to his sides, then forced a grin at his brother.

"Not likely, 'Menny."


"I should have noticed," Amenadiel finally mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I won't make that mistake again."

"I'm glad you didn't," Lucifer countered, clearing his throat, which had started itching at that point. He did it again, then sucked in a sharp breath and stifled a cough. "If you ask me, everything turned out pretty alright."

"It could have been better," Amenadiel objected, then paused, his gaze focusing on his brother. After a moment of silence, he stepped forward. "Enough of this, we can talk about that later. You really need to rest."

"Amenadiel-"

"Lucifer."

"Alright-" Lucifer sighed, holding his hands up, and spared his brother a pointed look as he took a few steps back toward his bedroom, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder. "Alright. I'll go rest. But I'm doing so extremely reluctantly, so… keep in mind that I'm extremely displeased with your sudden mother-hen behavior. Or, perhaps not so sudden," he added thoughtfully, "since you always did seem to be a helicopter p-"

"Go." Amenadiel rubbed his hand down his face.

"Going." Lucifer huffed out a sigh, a little dramatically. Instead of heading back to his room, however, he inched forward and reached for his phone. Amenadiel glared, deeply, for a second, but relaxed reluctantly with a sigh when Lucifer promptly stuck his tongue out at him. "I'm merely telling the Detective I'm on house arrest. Hah, maybe she'll come save me." He smirked at Amenadiel before turning back to his phone, sending a quick text to Chloe explaining most of what was happening before setting the phone back down and looking up, back toward the shattered glass and feathers littering the room.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts, as Amenadiel came up beside him and leaned against the counter, brushing a few shards of glass away with the sleeve of his jacket as he looked down at his brother. "It's not the first time the bar's been wrecked, brother."

"No, I know. I know," Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Obviously. I'm just getting a bit tired of having to clean it up."

"Understandable," Amenadiel commented quietly, thoughtful for a moment. "You miss your powers, don't you?" Lucifer didn't answer, just let out a low snort clasped his hands together over the counter, ducking his head a little. As he did, the cross necklace around his neck swung loose from where it had been safely tucked in his shirt moments before, and Amenadiel took notice to it immediately. "Hey… where'd you get that?"

"Hm?" Lucifer looked up at him in confusion for a moment, and Amenadiel gestured to the necklace. The former Devil looked down, mildly startled at first, before he shook his head. "Oh, yes. Ms. Lopez gave it to me." He reached up, touching the necklace around his neck for a moment before shrugging and throwing his brother a glance. "Figured since Dad and I have reconciled…"

Amenadiel's lips twitched, almost breaking into that smug grin Lucifer knew and hated so well, but he managed to control himself this time. "That's nice, Luci. It looks good on you," he mused with a light smile, and Lucifer let out a snort and rolled his eyes to the side, looking away for a moment.

"Anything looks good on me, brother."

"Whatever you say." Amenadiel let out a low chuckle and clasped a hand over his back. Lucifer looked up, a little surprised by the lack of pain, but then relaxed quickly a moment later. Of course, he hadn't cut his wings off this time, there wouldn't be any scars there now.

Lucifer went silent for a few seconds, looking thoughtful as he stared down. "Amenadiel?" His oldest brother let out a low hum of acknowledgement, and Lucifer continued. "After I… left, were Azrael and Gabriel… Were they…"

"... Azrael and Gabriel are fine, Luci," Amenadiel spoke quietly, moving his hand away to place it back on the counter. "Father let them off easy after what you did after the trial. Azrael went on with her job, and… Gabriel is still writing, as far as I know. He was when I left." At this, Lucifer paused. He thought back to when Michael had first shown up, Raphael and Gabriel at his sides. His younger brother hadn't even cast him a passing glance - but then again, Lucifer hadn't been able to keep his gaze on him for too long, either. He remembered how pissed he used to be at Gabriel - at all of his siblings. But Azrael and Gabriel in particular, his anger toward those two was simply… unjustified. He wished he could talk to them now.

What did they think of him now?

"… Good," Lucifer muttered, and Amenadiel nodded slightly.

"Now go get some rest."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but he did lightly nudge his brother's shoulder with his own before turning and heading back for his room. He sneezed again before he was even halfway there.


Michael stared down at the pudding cup that Ella had shoved into his hands, sitting at his desk and silently swirling the spoon around warily, watching the brown mush swish back and forth with the motion. On occasion, he looked up, searching for his brother, or Ella, or someone interesting. After giving him the odd snack, Ella had told him she had a crime scene to get to. Michael had offered to go with her, but Ella told him there were police officers already working the case, so the former archangel had to stay behind. The more he sat there and waited, the more worried he became. Lucifer hadn't shown his face, not once that day, and the concern churning in his chest was almost unbearable.

The worst part was that he didn't have the usual, collective anger from everyone else to drown it out. So he felt every twist and stab of emotion - his own emotion. He didn't quite like what he was feeling, but he tried to brush it off. Tried to tell himself Lucifer was probably just with Chloe, or at a therapy appointment, that's why he hadn't seen him… or he'd simply decided not to show up that day. Maybe he was taking a lazy day. Maybe he was nursing a hangover. Wait. No. Lucifer apparently didn't get hangovers… maybe he'd drank too much? He was mortal now, after all, maybe the rules had changed for him. Then again Michael wasn't sure if any amount of pain could stop Lucifer from coming to work.

He shot down each and every one of his own ideas, tapping his fingers idly against the pudding cup and staring down, bouncing his leg up and down nervously and occasionally hitting his knee against the bottom of the desk. The physical pain was actually a nice distraction, until it began aching so much that he finally had to stop and take a breath. No, this was fine, everything was fine. Lucifer was fine. Just because he was mortal didn't mean he needed to be fussed over like a kid. Jeez, it was so much easier to ignore his own feelings when he had the feelings of literally everyone else dumped on him. Now he had no idea what to do with his own. He still wasn't entirely convinced they were his own.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and forced himself to lean back in the chair, just putting the pudding down on the desk and settling both hands on his legs, his fingers digging into the fabric of his white pants. Maybe he was just bored. Yeah, that had to be it. He was bored, and he had nothing better to do than sit around wasting time over his own emotions. So he needed to find something to do. A case. If Pierce were there he'd be dumping file after file on him, but-

Oh, Dad, why was he thinking about Pierce of all people?

Michael very much so wanted to bash his head into his desk at that moment. Instead he put his head in his hands, screwed his eyes shut, and tried to think. Well, not to think. But trying to push the thoughts back instinctively made them worse, instinctively made him think about it that much more until it was all he could focus on. Until, eventually, it became too much. He shoved his chair back, forced himself to his feet, grabbed his overshirt off of the back of the chair and promptly stormed out of the building in a blind rage.

This time, though, his anger was his own. Such boiling, twisting, burning anger and every bit of it was directed right toward himself. Anger for feeling the way he did, and even more anger for being angry about caring in the first place. Anger for being selfish, for wanting to not care, for wishing he didn't have to. Anger for being angry in general, knowing he shouldn't be feeling like this. He wasn't being forced to focus on everyone else's rage right then, so why was this such a big deal? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he drown it out? Not that he ever could, but these were his emotions. Firsthand. And they hurt worse than any empathy powers could ever make him feel.

"Okay. Okay." Michael pulled himself to a stop, taking a quick glance around before simply screwing his eyes shut and sucking in a slow, deep breath, letting it out slowly and trying to think. Okay, he was fine. He could control this. He didn't know how, but he could. These were his emotions, and he could feel how he wanted to feel. He just had to finally figure out how to do that. He'd always been so focused on everyone else that he'd never had to think about it before, never had to think about how he really felt.

He'd been so focused on the anger.

It had always only been the anger.


It took Michael a few moments to actually leave the library, leaving the broken book behind. Gabriel would be pissed at him, he was sure, but Michael would prepare himself for the anger that would surely be radiating from his brother. It wasn't much different from the anger of the other angel's, anyway. It was just another headache to him, or at the most, a few hours of burning, suffocating chest pain. Either way, it wasn't anything new.

"You know, maybe if you stopped pissing people off, you'd be in less pain?" Raphael suggested idly, falling into step with him. Michael glanced down at his brother, then rolled his eyes and looked away again.

"Come to berate me, too?" Michael snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked. "Because, believe me, I've heard quite enough from Azrael. And I can't imagine Amenadiel will be too pleased with me, either, so that confrontation should be fun." He made a face. "I can feel his anger from here."

"Why is anger the only thing you focus on?" Raphael asked suddenly, sounding genuinely confused. "Your ability, you can sense all emotions, not just the negative ones. The positive emotions probably won't hurt you as much."

"Oh, wonderful," Michael replied sarcastically, "just tell me where to find a sweet little ray of sunshine in the Silver City."

"Azrael."

"Azrael hates me," Michael responded coolly, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "In fact, at the moment, her anger is just a little stronger than anyone else's here. Besides Amenadiel, but he's always pissed about something."

"Gabriel," Raphael suggested, and Michael blinked, actually not having anything to retort to that for a second. Then he snorted.

"I just snapped one of his books in half," the archangel replied easily. "I won't be on his good side for a while."

"Why Father gave you, of all angels, the ability to feel what others do is beyond me," Raphael muttered.

"It's beyond both of us, Raphael, but I'm not questioning Him."

"You never do…"

"Why is that such a bad thing?" Michael demanded, shaking his head and running his fingers through his blonde hair. "Everyone's second-guessing Him now, and it's annoying. First Samael starts planning a war, Mother and Him are fighting constantly, and now even the most loyal angels are questioning His leadership."

"I'm not questioning His leadership," Raphael protested. "I'm questioning why He made you an empath."

"Well, ask Him," Michael retorted, rolling his eyes. "Because I don't have a clue. But this is what He wanted, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, okay." Raphael shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "One of these days, though, it's gonna matter," he warned. "I mean, come on, Micah. It's affecting you physically and mentally, and I don't think I even have to mention the emotional strain. You should talk to Dad. Let him know that the powers are hurting you."

Michael blinked, honestly distracted by the use of the nickname for a moment, but he quickly recovered to respond. "I'll be fine."

"You're willing to put yourself through all this pain just to avoid confronting Him?"

"Yes, well, I'm sorry I don't complain like a priss about every little thing," Michael remarked. "It hurts. Boohoo. I got over it, so you should do yourself a favor and do the same. Quit worrying about me and start worrying about Samael's stupid "war"."

Raphael stared at him for a moment before raising his eyebrows and looking away with another half-hearted shrug. "Yeah, man. Whatever you say."

The positive emotions probably won't hurt you as much.


"Shit, Raph…" Michael hissed, digging his fingers into his hair and squeezing his eyes shut a little tighter. Maybe if he'd listened to his brother back then, none of this would be happening. If he had just taken his advice, gone to his Father about how his powers felt. How much they hurt. How angry he was, all the time. Or even just tried to focus on the good emotions instead of the bad ones. There were plenty in the Silver City, Michael had just been looking for a reason to be angry. A reason to hate Lucifer as much as he'd always wanted to. A reason to get back at him, to push him as far as he had, to satisfy the burning rage in his chest. But it never had, it never satisfied him because Raphael was right; No matter what he did, he was always going to be angry until he stopped focusing on the negativity and started focusing on the positivity.

For just a second, he wished Raphael was there. Maybe he could talk him through this. Michael hadn't listened to him before, but if he could now, he would. And if he could, he would look Raphael right in the eyes and tell him how grateful he was to him. Of all the angels in Heaven, Raphael was the only one who could really stand to be around him, the only one who kept his patience through Michael's long-winded rants and never seemed fazed by him snapping on occasion. Michael just wished he could have seen it sooner, the loyalty his brother had possessed. The strong, undeserved loyalty.

He sighed and pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to focus. Right, the positive emotions. What made him feel good? Ella. Ella made him feel good. Thinking of Lucifer made him feel… guilty. Amenadiel, too. Raphael. Gabriel. His siblings. His entire family. His Dad…? No, those feelings were complicated… So, Michael stopped thinking for a second. He stopped thinking and went still, trying to clear his brain before he continued his internal search. There had to be something, something inside that could calm him, something that could make him feel even a little better than he did right now and he just needed to find it so he could calm himself down.

The former archangel sighed and combed his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds until he realized he most certainly needed to breathe, especially right then, when his breathing was more shallow than ever. So he sucked in another breath and let it out slowly, grimacing a little as he turned back toward the precinct, and hesitated. As boring as it was, he usually stuck around because Ella was there. But she wasn't there today. So did he really have a reason to stick around anymore?

Chloe certainly wouldn't want him around - not that she was there right then, she was off on a case - but Daniel was, and the cop was shooting him looks every few seconds that… well, Michael wasn't really intimidated by the little shrimp, but he certainly did feel a lot smaller under the accusing glare, which seemed to make the pain in his chest even worse. He sighed, digging his fingers deep into his overshirt and looking down at it in silence for a moment, shoulders twitching a little as he thought. There was nothing left to do here, and he wasn't wanted by anyone in that building anyway. Which was fair, and good, because it left him able to leave in the first place.

But leave where? He couldn't go back to Ella's, there would be no point in that, she wasn't there. He couldn't go to Lucifer's, much as he wanted to check on the guy… Lucifer wouldn't want him around either. Amenadiel certainly wouldn't, if he was there, and he probably was. He didn't want to be alone, though, that was the problem. And he had nowhere to go, nobody else to talk to - nobody that would want to talk to him, anyway.

He shook his head at himself and sighed, glaring down at the sidewalk for a moment before just turning to head down the sidewalk, no set destination in mind. He'd go get lost in a crowd or something, people-watch. It was better than nothing. Or, at least, it would have been if he hadn't immediately bumped into a tiny, blonde-haired woman with glasses who Michael instantly recognized as Lucifer's therapist, despite never having met her in person.

"Sorry." Michael reached a hand out to grab her shoulder as she stumbled, the former archangel surprisingly steady on his feet, himself. The woman just chuckled a little, somewhat nervously, and flashed him a small smile.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"Good…" Michael pulled his hand back a little, hesitating slightly. Typically, Lucifer's friends didn't quite like him. Ella was the exception, but honestly, the way she was - she liked everyone. Daniel and Chloe loathed him, and this was someone Lucifer spoke to everyday about his issues - Michael had no doubt that his name had popped up quite a bit during those conversations. The former archangel grimaced and glanced away for a second, ready to turn and continue on his way, but the woman stopped him.

"Hang on a second- are you alright?" She tilted her head at him as Michael's gaze flickered back to her. "You just seem… very deeply conflicted." She paused, eyes narrowing as she stared at him - as if she was searching for something, and Michael shuffled on his feet a little uncomfortably under the stare.

"No. No, no, I'm fine." Michael took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair again, the motion no longer serving to calm him, but somewhat of a nervous habit by now that he barely even noticed. The woman didn't look convinced, and especially not after Michael huffed out a half-hysterical laugh and shook his head slightly. "Just- emotions, you know? Stupid emotions."

"Right." The woman nodded in clear understanding, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up at him. She actually had to tilt her head back slightly to look at him in the first place, and Michael couldn't help but let out another half-hearted chuckle as he scrubbed a hand down his face. "Well, the emotions re important, but the cause is a main focus also. The source is what you need to look into, what's making you feel the way you do."

"Oh, well, that's easy," Michael muttered with a shake of his head. "I just… I need to find a way to stop. To make the feelings just… stop."

"Hm." The woman narrowed her eyes, then stuck her hand into her pocket and pulled out a card. "Listen, I have to get to work. But-" She held the card out to him, and Michael took it after a second or so of hesitation, looking down to scan the words written onto it. "You clearly need to talk, and, luckily, I literally get paid to listen. You should schedule an appointment and come around sometime."

"... Maybe," Michael sighed and bit his lip, averting his gaze once more. The woman hummed and headed past him, and she got a few feet down the sidewalk before Michael shook his head a little and turned. "Hey, uh, Linda…" He trailed off and went silent for a moment as she turned back to him, looking up expectantly, and Michael visibly hesitated for a few seconds before he simply shook his head again. "Sorry, nevermind."

Linda frowned at him, at least for a few seconds, then offered a small smile. "Alright. I hope I'll see you soon-" She paused, giving him a pointed look and meeting his amber eyes for a few seconds. "Michael."

The former archangel blinked and stared at her, completely silent, as the human turned and continued on her way. He continued to stare until she had turned a corner and disappeared behind a row of buildings, standing completely tense in the middle of the sidewalk for a second or so longer before dropping his gaze to the card she had given him, still visibly shaken by that… entire interaction.

Therapy, huh?

Before he could think about it too much, the door to the precinct swung open and Daniel stepped out, looking as grumpy as ever. Michael glanced up, quickly stuffing the card in his pocket and staying silent as the human turned to him, looking irritated. "Let's go, we've got a case."

"And you want me to tag along," Michael said blankly, staring at him. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to feel about the human. He didn't really hate him, but he didn't quite like him either. Still, he was Ella's friend, and apparently Lucifer's… acquaintance, so Michael would make an effort to try and get along with him. Key word, try.

"No, not really. But nobody else is available and you're just standing out here, so I figured you might as well do something useful," Daniel huffed and walked past him, and Michael paused for a second as he turned to watch him go, mouth opening slightly to spit out a retort. But he stopped, mostly because he couldn't really think of something to counter that with, and also because he didn't really have the anger to respond right then.

So instead, he just sighed and turned, walking after him as he shrugged his overshirt on and buttoned it. A day with Daniel - this should be interesting.


By the time they got to the crime scene, the tension was practically suffocating the former archangel. He was honestly beginning to feel glad he couldn't feel the anger from the cop - what he could sense was overwhelming enough, and he didn't even have his powers then. Honestly, though, other than that, it was kind of peaceful. As long as he couldn't feel Daniel's anger, he could at least try and act like it didn't exist. He sighed and pushed the door open, stepping out of the car and shutting his door at the same time Daniel did.

"So, what-" Michael looked up toward Daniel, but the cop merely walked past him and headed for the house. "... Happened." The former archangel grimaced and ground his teeth together wordlessly for a few moments, staring after the human sourly before shaking his head and following. Whatever, just get through the day. He deserved this anyway.

He didn't bother with gloves as he followed, just simply shoved his hands into his pockets and walked in after Daniel, a grimace settling across his lips as he looked down. A human man - in his 20s, Michael would assume - was laying sprawled out across the floor on his stomach, his head turned at a rather unnatural angle and his mouth open, blood still trickling from his lips. Michael blinked, narrowing his eyes a little.

"Ugh… Gross."

"Miiikey!" Michael looked up, both surprised and pleased, as Ella bounced toward him with her camera hanging around her neck and threw her arms around him. The former archangel chuckled a little, wrapping his arms around her in return. "Hi!"

"I thought you had another crime scene to investigate?" He commented, amused as he pulled back and Ella turned away to do her thing, which at the moment was taking pictures of the victim's body. Michael spared a glance up toward Daniel, who was glaring at him silently as he spoke to another man - probably the one who had found this poor sap.

"I did," Ella replied, letting her camera swing back into place around her neck as she turned and smiled at him. "And then I was called here when I was on my way to the precinct. This poor guy-" She pointed to the man on the floor, and Michael reluctantly looked back down at the dead human, eyes narrowing. "Had his neck snapped. Pretty violently, too - looks like it was enough pressure to nearly turn his head around completely on his body." She shuddered a little, and Michael raised his eyebrows hummed.

"Right, that's unfortunate," he sighed, then looked back toward the man Daniel was talking to. "And I'm guessing that's the guy who found the poor dude."

"Mhm, his roommate," Ella explained, then looked down when her phone buzzed, blinking. "Ah, jeez, I gotta go. I swear, Lucifer better get in today," she complained as she turned away, peeling her gloves off and grabbing her kit. "It's been seriously busy. I'll talk to you later Mike!" She added, rushing past him and lightly brushing her shoulder against his in the process.

"Bye…" Michael sighed, turning his head to watch her go.

"Saint," Daniel spat the word out with an almost disbelieving tone (something Michael could understand, considering what Daniel knew the man had to think the name was ironic since there was no way in hell Michael could be a saint), but the former angel turned anyway to look at the other as the cop made his way toward him. "Good news."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure there's plenty of good news, considering," Michael commented with a glance toward the dead body on the floor, and Daniel's expression shifted to the same irritation he regarded Lucifer with.

"... I swear to God, I can see the family resemblance…" Daniel mumbled, and Michael mused over the irony of that statement until the cop spoke again. "Just listen. Dude's roommate was apparently attacked by the same guy that killed this dude-"

"Oh. You're so right. That is good news!"

Daniel's eye twitched.

"The attacker's name is Koby Winters, and apparently Jennings here owed him a ton of money that he didn't pay back. So."

"Great." Michael cracked his knuckles and looked over at Daniel, raising an eyebrow. "Then this should be mostly easy, as long as he hasn't ditched town or som-" He paused, cutting off when Daniel simply shoved past him again and headed out the door, and he frowned slightly. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned and followed after him with a hum as he headed for the car. "You know, I get the feeling you don't like me."

"You think?" Daniel opened his door with a huff and got in the car, and Michael took his place in the passenger's seat. Of course, he was just stating the obvious, no doubt about that. But he was hoping to ease some of the tension. He wasn't sure why it was so… uncomfortable to have someone be angry with him - especially now that he couldn't even sense that anger. In a way it probably made it harder, not knowing how intense the rage was. But it also made it easier, because he wasn't feeling it as well, and maybe he could do something about it.

"Yeah, I get it," Michael muttered, glancing to the side. "I don't particularly like me, either." He curled his hands into slight fists and looked down, and Daniel paused for a split second before starting the car with a sigh. "If this is about-"

"It's about you being a controlling, abusive bitch to your brother."

Michael paused, snapping his mouth shut and glancing at him. As much as that hurt, it was the truth. And he couldn't deny that he was glad Lucifer had friends on Earth who really cared about him… taking a deep breath, he fixed his gaze on his hands and frowned as Daniel started driving. "I know, and you have every right to hate me for that."

"Yeah," Daniel grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. "So, what, this mean you're not taking Lucifer 'home', wherever that is?" Michael paused, the realization settling in - Daniel had no idea about the angel shit - and he fell silent as Daniel continued, "what changed your mind?"

"There's just… been a change in plans." Michael looked down at his hands, blinking. "Our Father decided… Lucifer, belongs here."

"What's with this Father of yours, anyway?" Daniel grumbled, clenching his teeth. Michael glanced at him, then looked ahead toward the road. "Lucifer's always talking about how much he hates him, and yet you…" He narrowed his eyes a little. "Well, you don't, but you don't seem much better, either, so."

"Ouch," Michael muttered, a little more offended at the insult to God than anything. Poor mortal, had no idea who he was talking about. He looked away, staring out the windshield once more before letting out a low sigh and sinking down. "S- Lucifer doesn't have good history with our Father. But, recently… they've reconciled." He sighed, relaxing against the seat. "And our Father agreed to let Lucifer stay."

"And what about you?"

Michael paused. "I'm staying, too."

Daniel glanced at him, silent, then let out a huff and looked ahead again. "Whatever, man. Just stop dicking around with Lucifer. He may be a shit sometimes, but…" He gritted his teeth, seeming reluctant to continue, but he did so anyway. "He doesn't deserve your crap. And if you ever," his voice dropped, a little darker, a little scarier, but Michael merely glanced at him. "Ever even lift a finger against Ella, I will destroy you."

"Noted," Michael replied quietly, looking away again. "I'm trying to be better, Espinoza." At this, both men fell silent for a long time before Daniel finally spoke up, somewhat hesitantly, but not as angry as before.

"Good."