Stating the Obvious: The following fanfic is a sequel to "Second Chances".
Disclaimer: I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.
Author's Note: This is the chapter I had lost :-/ Michael and Allison's conversation was much longer, better even, but for some reason, I can't reproduce their conversation verbatim...siiigh, here's to hoping it came out all right! (Especially since it was why I stopped and had a block for so long...and then forgot about said block, and not in the good way -_-)
Chapter 13. The Time has Come
The taxi ride to the mansion is a long one and Allison finds herself praying – oh, yes, she prays – to keep her mind focused on the task at hand rather than the feelings that keep waging war in her belly.
When the taxi takes a turn into a path surrounded by tall trees, she notices the darkness, the dark clouds, and knows that she's walking into the very eye of a storm.
The first flash of lightning reveals too much – too much even for the taxi driver – as there are angels, or fallen, in the woods, all staring in their direction.
"What in the world?" The taxi driver slams on the breaks and Allison, having forgotten her seat belt, has to put her hand on the headrest in front of her to stop her body from going forward. "Lady, I don't normally say this, but how about we turn around and take you home? Free of charge," the driver's voice is a wary one, but unafraid, and Allison notices the necklace hanging from his rear view mirror. Christopher, the patron saints of travelers, fitting for a taxi driver. Any religious man with sense would not meddle in such matters.
With everything she knows, she's not sure if she's religious or not anymore. She won't make him sacrifice his own life for her, she won't be the cause of another death, but...she has to keep going.
"I'll get off here. Would you mind popping the trunk?" She did bring a sizable heavy bag with Gabriel's parting gifts, not that the driver questioned the weight or sound it made when he threw it in there.
"Lady, I don't think–"
"What's your name?" She leans forward, taking out her wallet so that she gives him enough money to probably turn around and not come back.
When he doesn't answer, she looks at the ID badge in the front and reads his name out loud, "Dani."
She directs her eyes to the driver, eyes wide. He has no resemblance to her brother...none at all and yet, she can't ignore a coincidence. She smiles.
"There's something I have to do. Something very important. I'd ask you to take me all the way there but people have a tendency to die around me. All I can say is this is as far as you have to take me just...don't turn around, don't feel like you regret anything and don't blame yourself. Just go, live your life, and be thankful that you have one. Trust me."
The guy is staring at her with curiosity and concern, but he accepts the wad of bills she gives him. For a moment, she thinks he will follow her, but the sound of the trunk opening gives her the answer before he can. She smiles, "Thank you."
When she steps out, Michael is standing by the trunk, waiting for her.
She goes for the bag first, then looks at him, at all the angels behind him. Will she have to fight them first?
"They won't harm you. They're under orders to watch only, not to intervene."
"That's a nice change," she scoffs, remembering how "involved" they all were when she had the book. She closes the trunk and watches as the man drives away, slowly. "Is that why you didn't help me, or Joseph? You were told not to intervene?"
Michael smiles, "You're learning."
She rolls her eyes, "Unfortunately." She stares at him for a moment, needing to ask one more thing, "Did you know? About Lucifer and..."
"Yes," he cuts her off before she tries to even form words.
She wants to yell that he could've stopped it – if he saw it coming, he could've told her to be careful of her words, that just saying something could bind her to his fate.
"Though, if I may add one thing...I knew Lucifer when he was still one of us...he was troublesome, but still my brother, a great arch in his own respect. When he fell, he became...pitiful. He would cause so much pain and fulfill nothing, create nothing, appreciate nothing, but his pride never allowed him to believe otherwise. He, in his own existence, was at risk of becoming nothing. When he met you, he began a transformation, and it's almost as if he's beginning to remember who he was...what we fought for...you gave him something to care about, Allison. You gave him a reason to exist outside of his sentence, outside of his punishment...you gave him a chance."
"And now I have to rip it out of his hands, I know," she throws the heavy bag over her shoulders, thankful she wore the right shoes for this particular task. "God works in mysterious ways."
Allison starts to walk and doesn't notice Michael's smile. He follows her until they're side by side. The walk is quiet until Allison stops. Michael turns, waiting on her.
"I have one question. If I save Emma, what will happen to him?"
Michael's hands are behind his back, his face blank. For a moment, she thinks he won't answer, but he owes her this. He owes her. "He will die."
Her grip on the bag tightens, "And if I fail?"
"All life will die."
She squeezes her eyes shut in despair, "But why?"
He turns around and looks above them, towards the sky, "As you said, He works in mysterious ways. This has always been His weapon of choice. To test a person's faith, a person's ability to hope, to bring them to sacrifice that which they love most for the sake of the entire world."
"So it's my fault," she murmurs.
"Do not place blame, Allison, it is useless to bother with such things. You forget...should you accomplish your task, He will be merciful."
She takes a step next to him, following his gaze to the thunderstorm above them, "Do I have your word on that, as an arch?"
"No," he chuckles, "you can have faith instead."
Lucifer is staring into the wine glass, sitting alone in one of the dinning rooms, allowing light only from the candlesticks as the power itself had gone a few minutes ago when the storm began.
He chose this room because it is the closest to the entrance. The room itself had once been but a simple hallway – a rather wide, large, hallway – fitting for balls worthy of Jane Austen's stories. He had seen it fit to have a dinner table – it had been a sudden feeling – and he wonders if perhaps He had something to do with it, as He always does.
This is where it'll end.
He can feel it.
He knows her.
She won't just let it go, not even with Joseph dead.
There's still Emma and Allison is ever the hero.
"Mr. Smith?" John hears the voice of Emma, such a beautiful girl, wearing her pink silk pajamas – Lilith had bought them and, even though they were surprisingly modest, silk has a tendency of clinging to one's skin. "Where's Max? And Lily?"
"I'm afraid they've gone into the city, the belly of the beast, so to speak," something only he knows causes him to smile just then, "to tend to some very important business." He hasn't really spent much time with her, not as much as Mephistopheles, but the time he has spent, he has treated her like a princess, encouraging the others to spoil her at every turn. Which is why he's not surprised that the very fact that they're alone has her heart rate accelerating like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. Many spend hours trying too hard to plant the seed of infatuation but, in truth, all that is needed is a distant approach – distant enough to make her daydream with curiosity, but not so distant that you cannot create the flint the fire requires to burn.
He smiles.
He could end it...here and now.
"Come join me, Emma. It's terribly morbid being here alone, in the dark." He watches as she moves to sit in the chair closest to him, her expression meek, and as she gets nearer, he uses his foot to keep her from pulling the chair out.
"Why don't you join me...and sit...here?" He pulls his own chair back and pats his lap.
Lilith had said he could end this. He could do what Mephistopheles couldn't. Oh, Mephistopheles had flirted and teased the girl, but that had not been enough to attract her to the spiderweb. However, Lucifer...he had given her just enough for her own curiosity to draw her in, not his efforts.
She's staring at him, her heart beating faster, "I don't think I should, Mr. Smith."
"John," he corrects, "please, call me John. I won't harm you." And he won't. It's a truth. What he needs is a sin...a mortal sin...another Eve.
He wouldn't taint her, not completely.
With Emma, all Lucifer needs is a drop of that taint, that single drop of blood in shark waters, that's all. He wouldn't condemn her to his domain, but he would taint her so that she couldn't be what He needed her to be, not now. She could still be a child of God, welcome in His embrace, worthy of being forgiven, but not to His angels.
He likes to think Allison would appreciate the effort.
The young girl takes one step, then another, and another, until she's standing right next to him. He doesn't pull her to him, cannot force her, so instead he brushes the hair off her cheek and presses his finger to her lips.
It confuses him how, even now, he thinks of another.
Emma finally descends, sitting on his lap. He holds her at first, doing nothing but holding her in his embrace, not thinking of Allison, and yet even he is not that good a liar that he can lie to himself.
This is the end. He will never see her again. No matter what happens, his fate is sealed...he might as well make sure he comes out winning in some way.
When she stops shuddering in his arms, he begins to trail kisses around her neck, to touch her thighs, to part her lips, always waiting to receive unspoken access to her.
He will have her, she will let him, he'll just have to be careful as to how far he'll take it.
Allison is standing under a tree, her hand against the trunk, listening the thunder rumble in the sky.
"This is as far as I can go, Allison." Michael, for some reason, had stayed with her the entire time. At first, she thought he was trying to make sure she delivered her task, but with all the angels around them, watching her unkindly, she had realized he had been trying to protect her, from his own – to ensure they all kept a respectful distance. There are still angels fighting a war amongst themselves.
She turns, seeing him standing just a few feet away from the tree. "I would thank you, but personally, you've made my life a living hell." He quirks his brow at the term, "And yes, I realize the humor behind that, considering who I'm..." She decides not to go into it right now and sighs, "What I'm trying to say...I've read the bible. I've read the stories about you and Gabriel. I always thought you had the worst jobs. To do what you're told, no matter who it hurts, who dies along the way, because it's His will. Now look at me," she sighs. "Whatever you've done before, whatever you're doing now, you're a good guy, even if you're not exactly easy to deal with..."
Michael smiles, and it's a rare smile, coming from him; a genuine one. "Just be grateful it wasn't Gabriel. Remind me to tell you a story or two about him that you won't find in your bible. Don't forget...we may be angels but we're not without fault, and God is not without His mercy. Leave the bag by the tree."
"But Gabriel–"
"Faith, Allison. Take only what you can carry, if you must, but leave the bag here. They will only slow you down."
Allison nods and turns toward the mansion. She decides not to walk. No, right now, considering the audience behind her, she knows it's only a matter of time.
She has to run.
The distance between the tree and the door is not much, but for some reason, even though she's running now, it seems further away with every step, and when she reaches the door – doors that tower her in height – she doesn't think, doesn't wait, doesn't allow herself to feel.
"It's time." She hears a voice she hasn't heard in an entire lifetime.
Her eyes immediately fill up with tears, "Simon."
"I have faith in you."
Faith. Isn't that what it always comes down to?
And with those words, she twists the knobs open and realizing it's unlocked, throws the doors open – screw the element of surprise, she figures. They can smell her, they can probably see her coming, and they will obey her.
After thought: Again, if I offend anyone with my theories of mortal sin, sorry...but anyhoo, yes, Emma somehow went from being this teenage girl in her late teens in my head to being a full-fledged teenage girl, hormones and all (think nine to thirteen to sixteen, maybe). Go figure. And hopefully I don't offend anyone by the mention of the possibility of sex with a minor (but anyone who's read the bible knows...some of those girls married very young). And Michael finally, even if just for a little bit, lets his guard down. As for Simon...well, I cheated, a little bit. Technically, he wasn't around the house, but as he is the nephalims' personal guide, I figure he would have ways to communicate with them without being in any way close. But, yes, things are about to go big bada boom. Sort of. I'm not real good with action scenes ~.~