Surprise!

Night falls before the massive group reach the buses, everyone agreeing to rest for the night in the station before attempting their next move. Quiet and not so quiet sobs sound from various places around the campground, finally taking the time to mourn those who were lost in the chaos. Injuries are effectively treated with the medical supplies that were stored in one of the buses, ensuring everyone no one else will be lost to infection. When all's said and done, the filthy, exhausted townspeople huddle together inside the abandoned bus station and fall into a mostly restless sleep.

Most of them anyway.

Nico and Michael sit on the ledge of one of the massive windows on the front side of the building, both wary from the battle but too cautious to rest. Many of the eightballs in the swarm were killed in the explosions, but like cockroaches, some survived. The siblings have had to dispatch plenty on the way to the station, so they're almost certain there are more to come. A tense silence has fallen over the two once everyone else retired, the heaviness only being broken by the occasional yawn that manages to push past the younger sister's lips.

After the tenth yawn, Michael speaks. "You need to rest," he states, causing his sister to jump slightly at the sudden break in silence. "Your injuries need time to heal."

"My injuries are superficial at best," Nico counters, lifting her hand to her line of sight to examine them. Most of the blisters that formed from the fight are popped and raw, other are smaller and barely filled. The flesh on her palm is red and bleeding in some places from friction, but they've long since went numb.

She doesn't really count the rest of her injuries as injuries, just a few bumps here, bruises there, and scrapes everywhere. Then of course there's the awful ache she feels in her bones from battle exhaustion, but again, her mind seems to have tuned that out.

"There's no need for me to rest yet," she finishes, lowering her hand back to her lap. "I still feel as good as I did when the battle started." Not entirely a lie considering how they've been living for the past week.

Michael manages to catch her gaze and hold it, leveling his usual flat look on her expectant one. "You're an awful liar," he declares after a moment or two, earning a quietly annoyed groan from his sister in response. "At least when you lie, don't show me what you're lying about."

"I'm not lying," Nico counters, rolling her eyes dramatically and leaning against the glass behind her. "And if I was, trust me, you would never know."

"I know you well, little sister," the older angel assures, shifting his gaze to the moonlit world beyond the window. "You haven't changed in all the time you've been away."

A harsh bark of laughter forces past Nico's lips and Michael turns his eyes back to hers, spotting that same hollow hostility from before swirling under the blue in her eyes. "You must not know me at all then, brother," she practically whispers, her tone teetering on the edge of empty and challenging. The heavy silence that follows lasts a bit longer than either angel feels comfortable with, but neither one knows what to say.

The sudden shift is startling and Michael takes the chance to fully examine his little sister, having little to no time in the past few days from everything that happened. She's definitely thinner than the last time they were together, eyes rimmed with dark circles of someone plagued by something terrible. Her muscles are more defined, body lithe and covered in scars both old and forming from previous battles. Even the look in her eyes is different. Nico's childlike personality is still there, but he can see past it. Under the joy and excitement that's always there, a darker emotion breaches the surface. She looks...haunted.

Before he can stop it, his lips part. "What happened to you?" Michael finds himself asking again, causing his sister to raise an expectant eyebrow. "You've changed."

Another snort of laughter from Nico before she shakes her head and shifts her gaze over the sleeping crowd. "I doubt you're one to talk about changing, big brother," she retorts, hints of her usual childishness showing from her uncharacteristically hardened exterior. "You never talked of monsters in your sleep or woke up fighting before. It's a bit disconcerting, really." The archangel stiffens and forces his darkening gaze back out the window. "Aw, come on, Michael," Nico jibes, scooting over and nudging her brother with her elbow. "You're the one who brought the subject up. You shouldn't have brought it up if you weren't ready to talk about yourself with it."

Michael narrows his eyes and turns his attention to his sister, already feeling the air crackle with the anticipation of an argument. Nico must feel it too, her hand clenching into a tight fist and her eyes locking with his. "If you're just going to be a bitch about it, then don't bring it up," she bites, turning her legs and sliding from the ledge. "I'm going to patrol outside."

The older angel watches his sister's movements in silence for a moment before sighing heavily through his nose. "You shouldn't go by yourself," he states quietly, never moving his gaze from the back of Nico's head. "It's dangerous."

Nico freezes, body language unreadable and face turned away from him. "I've been alone before," she starts in the same quiet tone. "Danger is expected." With that, the youngest angel continues forward, silently making her way around the sleeping huddle and toward the doors. Once the doors close behind her, Michael allows himself to breathe.

The two used to be inseparable, always seeming to have a stronger bond with each other than they have with their other family members. When she decided she wanted to explore the world on her own, Michael was more than reluctant to say yes. It took Gabriel's persuasion to even get him to consider it and both of their pleadings to get him to agree. No one expected her to be gone for one hundred years. Of course he expected her to change, but not even he was prepared for this.

Unwilling to leave the situation as it is, Michael inhales and exhales slowly to relax and silently moves around the group of sleeping humans to the main medical center, grabbing a couple rolls of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol before making his way outside. It takes a second for Michael to locate his sister, but after a second of looking, he finds her in the middle of her pacing around the station. She notices him a few seconds after he walks out and tenses, her eyes hardening for battle and her hand snapping to the sword on her belt. Once she realizes it's Michael, her defense drops and she rolls her eyes.

"Truce?" Michael asks, lifting the medical supplies as an offering. "If you're going to work, you need to be in top shape. You're not too old to let your older brother help you mend your wounds are you?"

Nico seems to ponder the offer for a moment, her eyes floating between Michael and her tragic hands. After a minute, Nico huffs tiredly and shakes her head. "I'm not," she relents. "But I'm not happy about it."

For the first time since they got to the station, Michael allows - forces for his sister's sake - a smile onto his lips, though it feels more relaxed than even he was anticipating. "I don't think you're ever happy with me," he responds as Nico makes her way over and they sit on the front stairs of the bus station. The moon gives just enough light for Michael to see by. "Happy in general maybe; but with me, never."

Something that could arguably be considered horror flashes on Nico's face as she allows Michael to take one of her hands, causing Michael to look up in what could be considered confusion. "I'm always happy with you, Michael," she says, her tone tight when her sore muscles protest the movement. Nico despises after battle stillness. It always brings out the aches no one notices when fighting. "I'm just not always happy with your ways of doing things. At least, I'm not anymore. You used to be fun. Scary at points, yes. But fun."

"I just worry more now," Michael explains, removing the cap from the alcohol and pouring some on Nico's hands. He releases Nico's hand when she hisses and snatches away. "Sorry."

Nico shakes her head and tosses a few of the longer pieces of hair from her face. "It needed to be done," she replies, shaking the hand a few times before returning it to Michael's. "A bit more tact would have be nice, though."

Another smile, less forced, forms on Michael's lips as he reclaims the hand and pours a bit more alcohol over it. Nico tenses and hisses through her teeth, but doesn't pull away. "I'm sorry," he says again. "I would do better if we had more to work with."

"We have plenty to work with," Nico counters as Michael sets the bottle aside and picks up one of the rolls of bandages. "You just didn't take the time to look."

"I had a lot on my mind," he defends. "I couldn't leave you out on your own."

Nico rolls her eyes, but her attitude doesn't have the bite it did previously. "As you continue to say," she starts, her tone the flawless mixture of tired and annoyed Michael has heard before, "I am over eighteen thousand years old. I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"That doesn't mean I don't worry. I'm still you're older brother and we haven't seen each other for a while." He begins to wind the bandages around her hand, a tired look forming on his face as he does. "I've already lost more siblings than I originally thought possible. I don't want to lose another."

A bitter frown pulls on Nico's mouth. "Uriel was a-" A glare from Michael. "-pain. But I doubt she's dead. She's just dramatic. And Gabriel's not dead. You two just don't know how to communicate. Besides, I'm sure everyone else is still out there somewhere." Her free hand moves and she uses a finger to tilt his chin up so he has to look at her. "You worry too much," she states. "Stop that."

Michael sighs through his nose and shakes his head free of his sister's hold. "I can't," he starts coldly. "I'm supposed to be in charge of the Chosen One and I've left him. I was supposed to protect a city and I've killed its citizens. I'm surprised no one's looking for me. And now you've come back and I'm responsible for you now. Not to mention I have no idea what to do with these people. I have a lot to worry about." There's no snappy response, no laugh, no comment. After the first hand is wrapped, Michael looks up in mild concern.

Nico has a new look on her face, one Michael can't say he's ever seen on her face before. After a moment, the expression breaks and Nico smiles. "That was the most you've opened up to me since we've been together," she says, an unusual maturity in her voice that causes Michael's eyebrows to rise. "Thank you."

Neither of them speak for a moment as Michael works on Nico's other hand. She's ambidextrous now, but the one Michael works on is the one she was born being dominant in. Michael can see that in how much damage it took in the fighting. She has a habit of blocking with her best arm in a pinch. After Michael cleans the wounds with alcohol, allowing Nico the one swear word she hissed in her pain, Michael finds a response.

"Your sudden maturity scares me," he says, earning an offended scoff from Nico as she looks up from her hands. "Maybe you should continue to behave in that manner so that it doesn't."

"I'm mature as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudge," she catches, clearing her throat loudly at Michael's warning glare. "I'm mature. I've seen things. Done things. It's been rough."

"I don't know enough about what you've been through to say whether or not I believe you," Michael responds honestly as Nico scoffs yet again.

Nico nudges Michael with her toe and ignores the look of disgust she earns as a response. Then she yawns and stretches, shifting and turning so that she's lying down on the stair they sit on with her head resting on Michael's leg. "Whatever," she says, grunting as she shifts again to get herself more comfortable. She really hates fighting. One would think that since she does it so much, she'd be used to it. Maybe the reason she's so sore is because her body's starting to quit on her. She yawns deeply and settles in place. "I know what I've been through."

Michael almost protests his sister's actions, but the fact that she's already so far asleep that she just mumbled incoherent gibberish causes him to sigh and relent. "Your ability to sleep anywhere also concerns me," he says, the only movement he makes being to lift his arm and rest it on her back. He frowns in concern at the cringe and pained hiss she gives as a response, but he keeps his concerns to himself. "I may move us later, so be ready." She gives another incoherent slur of words before she falls silent and her breathing evens out. Michael huffs from his nose again and carefully settles himself on the stairs. "We are going to have a conversation about your sleeping habits. . ."

Ok, I don't even know if people are A) still in the fandom or B) still read this because it's been hella long time since I posted. Ah well, I saw Legion earlier and it sparked my Dominion interest for some reason and now I wanna rewatch it and I caught a hint of inspiration for this. I can't promise that this will continue to get updated as I currently have one fic I'm still working on up here and three on my new Archive of Our Own profile so yeah. Plus this show has tragically been cancelled so I don't even know if this is going to get anything anyway.

Whatever. here it is!