Michael hadn't been able to get back to sleep after the dream sharing. He'd lay with her for hours before he got up and decided to read to take his mind off things. He was sitting at the desk that usually went unused in the corner. Amy stirred in his bed and rolled over with a little groan and his eyes drifted to her. He was still reeling from what he had witnessed.
Amy opened her eyes and yawned, realising she was alone in bed. It was unusual. The boy usually lay with her until the very last second they had to get up. She sat up confused and looked around until her eyes landed on him. He was sitting at the desk and he was looking at her with a weird look on his face she couldn't place.
"Hey," she smiled, rubbing her eyes.
"Hey," he replied quietly, a weak smile graced his lips. Her brain woke up more then and she furrowed her brows.
"What did you find then? I don't remember any of my dreams," she huffed, looking at him curiously. He averted his gaze then as his fingers drummed onto the desk. It made her stomach drop wondering just what he'd seen.
"It was… some memories. From when you were a kid," he replied. He could have meant anything. She had a lot of memories. But somehow his tense and sad tone made it obvious it was some of the shitty ones and she felt her cheeks growing hot as her stomach tightened. She didn't know what to say. The air suddenly felt thick and awkward knowing he had been in her mind and seen her at her most vulnerable.
"Why? Why did they treat you that way?" he lamented, finally looking at her again. His eyes were glassy and she felt a lump lodge itself in her throat. He looked so distraught for her. It was a strange feeling.
"They wanted a son. I was a constant disappointment. Especially when I wanted to be an artist and not follow in their footsteps in the medical field. And then they found out about my powers and dumped me here. Said I'm not their problem anymore," she shrugged. She tried to sound careless about it. Like everything she had been through didn't bother her. But she knew that he knew better. She was broken. Incapable of love because of her lack of it as a small child. It had damaged her on the inside. She watched warily as his hands clenched and unclenched on the desk and he inhaled deeply. She wasn't sure if he was about to cry or throw something. He looked a mix of angry and upset.
"Look… it's fine okay? I'm older and I'm over it. Just forget it," she sighed, wanting to drop the whole thing altogether. She stood from the bed and walked over to him, needing him to focus on something else and forget what he had seen. He looked up at her with shiny eyes as she stood by him and she raked a hand through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut and a soft hum left his lips when she massaged his scalp with her fingertips.
She was stood by his side and he leant into her, head leaning on her belly as a hand wound around her waist. She thought she had distracted him enough as she continued rubbing his scalp and he was quiet for a moment.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked softly after a bit of silence. Her heart jumped a little at his words. Partly from the delight of him saying them to her again but also anxiety from the fact she couldn't say it back. He was still leaning into her as he tilted his head up to look at her. She found herself blushing.
"I know. I still don't know how but… I know," she replied with a small smile. He beamed a smile at her and his arm around her squeezed a little. He dropped the issue then and she was glad. She was also happy he hadn't seemed like he expected her to say those words back. She kept worrying that one day he'd be upset with her for not saying them. She tried to push the thought to the back of her mind.
They carried on their day as usual. Classes and food, hanging out with Mallory and Coco. Amy was starting to get used to his little affectionate touches when they were just going about their day. Every little touch made her smile to herself. By the time night had rolled around, the tea was once again brewed but this time for her. She watched Michael sitting on the bed chewing his thumb anxiously as she got into her pyjamas. She'd noticed how his behaviour changed as the day wore on. He seemed terrified of what she was about to do and honestly, it made her nervous. She padded over to his bed, climbing onto it and then on his lap straddling him. He looked a little shocked that she'd made the move but he relaxed as she stroked the nape of his neck.
"No matter what I find, I promise it won't change anything," she said softly. She didn't know why those words left her lips because she didn't know what the fuck she would see. But seeing him so nervous made a deep need to soothe him and that's what left her lips. She hoped she didn't regret them by the morning.
His eyes softened at her words, his hands smoothing up her back as he held her close with a smile.
"Really?" he asked with a hopeful look. So desperate to be accepted. She nodded, despite a voice in her head screaming at her to abort the mission and take the words back. She felt his tension melt away as he cupped her cheeks and leant up to kiss her softly. It was such a sweet kiss and she melted into him. When she moved away, he gave her a bright smile and she returned it, ignoring how her stomach was in knots. She shifted off him, grabbing the tea and gulping it down as fast as she could.
"Holy shit, it tastes like ass," she gasped, covering her mouth praying she didn't vomit. He laughed next to her and she squinted at his amused face.
"I told you," he smirked smugly. She sneered playfully at him before they both lay down. Before long they were both asleep. The tea had made her drowsy similar to Zoe's tea. But it didn't have the drunk feeling she enjoyed from Zoe's. She wouldn't lie, she was a little disappointed.
When her eyes fluttered open, she was in a house she didn't recognise. The whole aura of the whole made her shiver and she heard a child's laughter. Her curiosity piqued, she slowly walked towards the bedroom where the noise came from and opened the door. She stopped dead in her tracks, breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her. A woman was dead on the floor and blood was everywhere. Tiny bloody handprints all over the walls. But her eyes were glued to the sweet boy sat in the chair. He looked so innocent but the blood on his hands was clear as day. This was Michael. He was a toddler. And he'd killed someone. She knew he'd done bad things. He was the son of the devil after all. But being around him and how sweet he was all the time often made her forget just what he was capable of. And she'd never really thought too much about the things he'd done in the past. She swallowed thickly as the boy giggled and played with the blood on his hands. It made her feel sick. The tang of copper in the air was overwhelming and she took a step back, hoping she didn't spew up everywhere. Could she throw up in a dream? She hoped not.
She couldn't look at it anymore and left the room, but as she walked through the doorway, everything changed and shifted. She was in another room now and an older woman was slumped on the couch. She was dead, that much was clear and she tilted her head as she took in the scene. She'd killed herself.
"Grandma?" she heard a familiar voice call. Her heart dropped realising just what memory this was.
"Grandma?" he called out again. She looked on with wide eyes as Michael walked in, his face contorting in shock as he looked at the lifeless body of the woman who raised him. His eyes drifted to the table in front of her and she saw it click in his mind what she had done. He looked so much younger. His hair a little messier with bangs and a white t-shirt with small black stripes. He looked so much more… innocent.
A shaky breath left his lips as he grasped his head, looking like he was struggling to compose himself.
"No," he whispered, his voice shaking like a small child as he sniffled. She covered her mouth as tears stung her eyes. He made a pitiful noise as he knelt before the body, still looking in shock as he cupped the older woman's face.
"Grandma. Hey… hey, wake up," he pleaded weakly as he sobbed. Amy took a step forward as a tear rolled down her cheek. The pain in her chest was getting worse.
"Hey, wake up," he begged louder, scooping the woman's limp body in his arms as he held her desperately. He cradled her head as he cried softly.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he sobbed. Amy's heart shattered into pieces. He thought it was his fault. Maybe it was in a way. She didn't know what it was like to raise the Antichrist. But in that moment she felt an overwhelming pain for the broken boy in front of her. He was sobbing into the woman's neck as he held her like he was scared she would break and Amy stifled a sob with her hands as she dropped to her knees beside of him.
"Its all my fault," he lamented as he gently placed her back on the couch.
Amy reached out, desperate to console him. To hold him. To tell him it wasn't his fault. That it was his father's fault for making him this way. But her hand went right through him like she was made of air and it only made her chest feel tighter.
"Hey, grandma," he sobbed, stroking to woman's hair so affectionately. It was so difficult to watch. She didn't want to be here anymore. She knew he had darkness in him. She knew he'd done bad things. The earlier memory proving that. But this was so difficult to watch. She knew his grandma had killed herself and she knew what happened afterwards. How she refused to see him in the afterlife. But in this moment, she found herself mad at Constance Langdon. For abandoning a boy that needed help. For refusing to give him any closure or comfort afterwards. For breaking him so badly by making him think he had done this to her. She knew Michael. She knew how sweet he was underneath it all. How he couldn't help the darkness that lay within him.
She stood on shaky legs, wiping her eyes as she watched him sobbing over the dead body. She wanted to wake up. She didn't want to see this. It was too painful. It was making her realise that maybe she cared more for the boy that she first thought. The room shook and changed again and suddenly she was stood in the living area. Michael was stood over two women who were now dead, one with their throat slit and the other had a knife in her head. She felt the bile rising in her throat as she looked to Michael then. He was wearing a latex bodysuit. She blinked at him, trying to take in the scene. There was so much to take in, she felt like her head might explode.
"Those were good people. They deserved a chance," her head whipped around to face a man she didn't recognise. She had no clue who he was but he was sat on the floor against the wall. He looked like he was pinned in place by an unseen force and as her eyes drifted back to Michael, his harsh glare made her realise it was him keeping him there.
"They don't belong here," Michael stated firmly. Amy furrowed her brow at how indifferent he looked about the whole thing. Like he hadn't just killed these two women just for the fact they were in this house and he didn't like it.
"Because of what you did, they'll be here forever," the man hissed. Amy looked confused and her eyes widened when the ghosts of the dead women appeared by their bodies as they stood. She took it all in with wide eyes as the women tried to understand what happened to them and Michael glared at them.
"Michael…" she whispered, stepping forward as she tasted the impending doom on her tongue.
"You didn't have to kill them. I know you! This isn't who you are!" the man implored. She wanted to agree. To beg Michael to stop all this. That he was sweet and kind deep down and he didn't have to give in to the darkness inside of him.
Amy yelped and fell on her ass as the women burst into flames and she watched horrified, seeing how Michael's hands were clenched by his sides. What was he doing? He was killing them again, but they were ghosts. Was he getting rid of their souls? She covered her ears, muffling the women's screams as she squeezed her eyes shut. How many times had she danced with Dark Michael? The one now before her with no remorse as he cruelly killed the women again. This time forever. They turned to nothing but ash and Michael collapsed on his knees, looking drained and a little shocked. As if he had just snapped back to his usual self. She blinked at him, unsure how to feel about it all. Seeing just what he was cable of, what he had done. It scared the shit out of her. But at the same time, she knew him well enough to know he had no control over this. She tried to remind herself how good he'd been since he came into the coven. How even though he had a few minor slip-ups, he'd behaved himself and kept his darkness in check.
The man stood up then on shaky legs as he walked towards Michael and Amy. He stood over Michael who looked up at him with shiny eyes.
"I never could have helped you. I was foolish to try," he frowned. She felt her heart clench on the look on Michael's face. Yet another person abandoning him. Someone who could have helped him. Cordelia had shown Amy it wasn't impossible to save him. She herself thought it wasn't going to happen when he first arrived but she'd seen first hand how he had good in him. She watched with an aching heart as Michaels bottom lip quivered, his whole body trembling as the man walked away. Once again she instinctively reached out to comfort him but she couldn't. All she could do was watch as he tried to deal with what he had done and how he was once again alone once more.
The walls started to look as though they were melting and she felt a headache coming on. She rubbed her eyes and suddenly she was in the dining room. There was a girl lay helpless on the table wearing some kind of white garment as two women in black stood around her and a man that looked a lot like Anton LaVey. She furrowed her brows as her eyes darted to Michael. He was sitting down, a black cape around him but he was shirtless. His eyes were wide and she wasn't sure if he was in shock or something as he stared at them all. She had a bad feeling as she looked back to the girl.
"For you Michael," one of the women muttered. Amy's horrified shriek mingled with the agonizing screams of the girl as a knife was buried into her stomach. She clasped a hand over her mouth feeling sick as Anton took the knife and started cutting her open. The screams bounced off the walls and Amy felt lightheaded. Stumbling back into the wall. She watched horrified as Anton removed the knife, only to replace it with his hand. And then he pulled out her fucking heart. Amy retched, unable to fathom the scene unfolding before her. But when she looked back at Michael, she knew now what it was on his face. It wasn't shock. It was awe. And it made her stomach clench painfully hard as she tried to marry the thought that the sweet boy she knew was really this dark.
The other woman took the heart in a bowl over to him and he stood up. Amy's eyes widened as she walked over.
"No! Don't you fucking dare!" she yelled tearfully. She knew it wouldn't change anything but she couldn't stop herself.
"Michael!" she shrieked, watching mortified as he picked up the heart and bit into it. The air shifted, the room getting hotter instantly and Amy stumbled backwards when a shadow unfolded behind Michael. It was him. Satan. This was the moment it all happened. When he realised what he was. She felt sick to her stomach.
"Father, I am with you now," Michael smirked, blood smeared on his lips. She couldn't look at him. It was too much. She suddenly felt like she was being suffocated and she didn't know what to do.
She shot up in bed, a cold sweat all over her body as she gasped for air. She didn't even think as she dived out of bed and ran to their bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet as she emptied the contents of her stomach almost violently. Her whole body was shaking as she threw up, tears down her face. She half expected him to run in after her but thankfully he didn't. She could hear his faint snoring from in the bathroom and it gave her a sense of relief she didn't have to face him just yet. She wiped her mouth with tissue, leaning against the wall as she tried to comprehend all she had seen. She had promised him whatever happened it wouldn't change anything and she wondered how true that was. She had seen some of the darkest parts of him in those dreams. But she had also seen his weakest most vulnerable moments. She thought back to things Cordelia had told her about how he was lead down this path and that much was clear now. Yes, he had dark urges from a young age but the people around him didn't help him. Instead, they left him. Making him angry at the world for his rejection and abandonment. By the time the Satanists had come, he had no one and a deep need to be loved and accepted was consuming him. But still, the image of him eating a fucking heart made her stomach turn. She'd kissed those lips. She never knew just what sinful things they had done before.
She was terrified. Scared of what she had got herself into. He was the Antichrist. It was so easy to forget just what he was but now the images would forever be burned into her mind. She felt so conflicted. She cared about him. She knew she did and seeing him sobbing over his grandma had only made that feeling stronger. Again, it was like he had two people inside of him. She had been around his darker half more than a handful of times yet he hadn't hurt her. If anything, after his little tantrum that time, his darker part seemed to almost worship her. It made her heart beat funny. That it wasn't just the sweet Michael that wanted her. But also the black parts of him too.
She sniffled, wiping her eyes as she stood up. She needed a moment to think, she needed to talk to someone to rationalise this. She still cared but it made her feel bad about it. Should she care for the boy after the things he'd done? Did that make her a bad person? Her brain was too full and she walked out of the bathroom. Michael was still sleeping in bed and she slipped out of the room before he woke, still her in sleep shorts and tank top. Her feet made their way to Zoe's room. She wasn't sure what time it was. It was starting to get light outside but she knew it was still early. She knocked softly, a pit in her stomach growing. Nothing happened and she stifled a sob with her hand as she knocked a little louder this time. She was bordering on desperate. The door opened and a dishevelled looking Zoe answered. But when her eyes laid on the crying girl in her pyjamas, she opened the door and allowed her inside instantly.
"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly, ushering the girl to sit on her bed. Amy couldn't stop herself. She opened her mouth and the flood gates opened. She told her how she had practised her spell and just what she'd seen in Michaels dreams.
"I don't know what to do Zoe! He's done such awful fucking things but I still care! What's wrong with me?" she sobbed helplessly as Zoe rubbed her back.
"Amy, nothing is wrong with you. Remember what me and Cordelia said all along? The things he did, it wasn't his fault. Look how good he's doing now. He's flourishing here, with you," Zoe soothed softly. Amy sniffled and rubbed her tears away as she tried to let the words settle in her brain and ease the ache that had settled in there.
"Do you think he's changed?" Amy asked meekly, needing reassurance.
"Yes. I think he's more good than evil now and he's getting better each day. I mean you know him more than anyone now. Do you think he'd hurt you?" Zoe asked carefully.
"No," Amy replied without hesitation. She knew he wouldn't. She was sure of it. The realisation soothed her somewhat as she came back down to earth after her hysterics.
"Things are never just black and white. There is no pure good or evil. Michael had a hard life and those who should have helped him didn't. You saw that. Now he has you. He has someone to care and make him see the good in him," Zoe implored as she gave the girl a smile. Amy smiled back as her cheeks heated up. After everything she said she'd basically admitted to Zoe something was going on with them. But her words made her feel better.
She knew deep down he had changed. How he controlled himself even when his dark half came out to play. How he treated her like she was made of gold. How many times had she lay there wondering how the fuck this sweet boy could be the Antichrist? Because the good in him shone through to her like a beacon in the night. Zoe was right. There was no cut and dry black or white here. He had both good and bad in him and now he was with the right people. She started to feel better now that he wouldn't revert back to his old ways. He'd already come so far.
After bidding Zoe goodbye, she walked back to their room, but when she opened the door, Michael was sat up in bed with tears down his face as he sniffled. She stilled, eyes wide as she took in his face as his wide eyes bore into her.
"I'm sorry. You hate me now," he sobbed, lowering his head as he cried into his hands. He remembered his dreams, she just knew it. He knew all of what she had seen and her being gone when he woke probably made him panic. She had ran off in fear of him at first. She had been that jarred she'd thrown up after all she'd witnessed. But now she had a sort of clarity about the situation. She had known what he was all along and she shouldn't have been surprised that he'd done dark things. But the boy before her now wasn't the same one from those dreams. And seeing him sobbing made the image of him clinging onto his grandmother's lifeless body swarm her mind and her heart ached dully in her chest.
"I don't hate you, Michael," she whispered as she walked over to the bed. He shook his head, clearly not believing her as he continued to sob like a helpless child. She wrapped her arms around him and he clung onto her, soaking her neck with his tears.
"I mean it. I won't lie, I got fucking scared and I needed a minute. But I know you. I know the real you and I don't hate you at all," she said sincerely as she soothingly stroked his hair. His arms were tight around her but she didn't say a word, letting him hold her as much as he needed. She had felt so much pain seeing his abandonment in his dreams and it made her feel a sort of kinship on a new level with him. She knew what loneliness felt like.
"I love you," he sniffled, the words muffled by his crying into her neck. Her heart seized. This time she wished she could have said it back to him, knowing how much he needed to hear them. The guilt bloomed in her then that she was just another person in his life that couldn't give him what he deserved.
"I know," she sighed, holding him tighter as her chest constricted.
She held him for a long while until he calmed down, and when he moved away, she wiped his tears from his angelic face.
"Why are you so good to me?" he whispered with a quivering lip. Her throat went dry as she tried to reign in her emotions looking at how broken he was.
"Because you deserve it. Because you mean so much to me," she admitted softly. It was as close as she could get to saying something akin to 'I love you' and his eyes widened, face lighting up at her words. It made her insides turn to mush.
"You're like an angel. My guardian angel," he mused with a wistful smile. She snorted and shook her head.
"Hardly," she gave him a wry grin as the air in the room felt less tense and smothering. This whole thing had felt like a turning point for her. For her to realise just what the boy meant to her. She never thought she'd feel like this about anyone. It might not be love but she wondered if it was pretty damn close.
"Can we lay together for a bit?" Michael asked softly. His blue eyes were all shiny from his tears and she was powerless to deny him anything when he looked at her like that. She gave him a smile and nodded as she lay down on her back. He curled around her, nuzzling into her neck as her hand went into his hair. Her fingers rubbed his scalp and he hummed softly. She still wasn't sure just what she had gotten herself into. Knowing now the things he'd done and what the dark half of him was capable of. But right in this moment as she lay with him, she didn't have any regrets. She was happy and wanted to be in his arms. To make him smile. To show him he mattered and he didn't have to be a bad person. Cordelia had asked her once if she thought people deserve a second chance. Amy knew she was right. He'd done terrible things because those around him influenced him to do so. But now she was here. She could keep him on the straight and narrow and show him that being good had its perks.