"Don't Wanna Fight" - Alabama Shakes
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Michael kept his eyes on the road as Dan drove them down to the police station. After a long morning of celestial 101 and a trip to the hospital, all Michael wanted to do was turn his brain off and stare into the abyss that was motor vehicles on the I-10.
Dan didn't hold it against him. He could tell how stressed Michael was. He wasn't sure if it was about the meeting Michael had lined up with the Lieutenant or his inevitable conversation with Ella. Either way the angel had stress rolling off his body in waves. Dan ignored his silence and chose to play music instead.
The light tunes of Alabama Shakes played in the background as Michael focused on the lane dividers. Every half second a white block would pass under the right tire. Something about the uneven road, the low pressure in Dan's back right tire, and the thin lanes, made Michael fall into a trance.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The passenger side of the car drove over the lane dividers creating a rhythm Michael couldn't help but follow.
He wasn't sure what triggered it, but he was sent into the past. A memory locked so far into his memory, spewed forward for him to remember.
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Michael had his cheek pressed up against the dirt floor. His hands bound behind his back. His shoulder, his only source of balance.
He was breathing hard. The dirt around his mouth, kicking up as his breathing tried to steady.
"Tisk tisk tisk…"
Sandalphon dusted his hands across his pants as he tried to clean Michael's mess. The thumping of his large hands beating across his clothes, the only noise to drown out the screams.
"Now look at what you've done. You've gone and dirtied the only pair of pants I own."
Michael coughed up a mouth full of blood. The mixture of blood and dirt smeared against his face. He groaned as he tried to sit up right. The blows to the torso Sandalphon had just delivered proved difficult for him to move. So he stayed, cheek against the floor, groaning.
"There's no use holding out… The more you try, the more I'll make the demons torture him."
"Please stop," Michael murmured.
"What was that?" Sandalphon crouched down. His hand cupped his ear as he tried to funnel Michael's next words. "I didn't quite get that. Repeat it for me again."
"I asked for you to stop… Leave the boy alone," Michael choked out.
"Are you ready to give me what I want?"
Michael rolled onto his side, all of his weight landing on his right shoulder. He yelped out in pain from his lack of balance.
"I asked you a question, Michael."
"We both know I can't give you what you want. There's no use bringing the boy into this."
"I beg to differ." He stood back up to marvel at his work.
Michael stayed on his side, paralyzed and broken. The great warrior at his feet reduced to nothing but what was in front of him. Thin. Raggedy. Not a hint of hope in his eyes.
"The boy," Sandalphon spoke up, "I hear he calls for you."
Michael closed his eyes. Trying to shield anything that would be used to sway his decision.
"Calls for you nonstop, in fact. It's all really touching. Papa this, Papa that." He swung his hang about in a mocking tone. "Would you like to hear?"
"No…"
"No? But he's your son. Shouldn't a father love his son?"
"Stop this…" Michael groaned.
"And why should I? It's the only thing keeping you motivated."
"He's but a boy!" Michael shouted against the floor.
"Aye he is, but you refuse to give me what I need. So I'll torture the little prince until you deliver on what I want," Sandalphon explained.
Michael shook his head, "I don't know how to give you the demiurgos. I've told you that!" He pulled at his restraints trying everything in his power to break free. Sandalphon just stood in front of him with a smile on his face.
"It'll come to you." He turned over to the side and opened a door, allowing the cries of a small child to encourage Michael. "With time."
"Ah! No no no! Papa!"
"Stop! Leave him alone!"
"I'll leave him alone when you give me the demiurgos."
"You know I can't do that," Michael whispered.
"Then his cries will continue to be all you hear."
Michael buried his face against the ground trying everything in his power to drown out the child's cries. A mixture of dirt and salt was all he could taste.
Tear jerking, screeching cries filled the area for what seemed like forever. Every call of Michael's new title breaking down the cold exterior he tried oh so hard to keep intact. He wasn't sure how long he could keep on listening. Every cry made him want to surrender.
It wasn't until silence erupted out of nowhere that Michael thanked his blessings.
A creature emerged from out of the room, rushing over to Sandalphon. He dropped down on one knee, bowing to his master.
"What is it, Gaudium?"
"The child… He's… He's…" He looked over to Michael and frowned. "He's weak, my Lord. We cannot continue any further, for I fear we may lose him."
Michael thrashed around on the floor trying everything in his power to get himself upright. His anger grew as he realized he may lose his son. Gaudium shrunk away from Michael, fearing for his life.
"Nonsense. I could hear the boy perfectly fine."
"You can hear his bellows, yes, but the lad… He's gravely weak, my Lord. I fear —"
"Continue your practice, Gaudium."
"But, my Lord, I don't -" Gaudium stopped talking immediately as Sandalphon gave him a glare. "I… Apologies, my Lord." He gave his master a bow, flashing Michael a pitiful look. "My prince," he whispered.
"Traitor!"
"Now come on, Michael. Words hurt."
Michael thrashed around in his restraints more erratic. His teeth bared white with anger, similar to a rabid animal. His hair in tatters. His body bloodied. No matter how much strength he put into breaking his confines, they wouldn't budge.
"When I get out of this, you'll —"
"When you get out?" Sandalphon laughed. "My dear friend, the only way you're getting out is through the grace of your father." He pointed his finger up to the imaginary sky and shot Michael a smile. "Which is never going to happen." He dropped down, squatting in front of his prize. "It's been years now, Michael. If your daddy wanted you found he would have come to save you by now."
Michael pulled on his chains. He had no words behind his blazing eyes.
As the sounds of the small child picked up once more, Michael's strong composure softened.
His heart started to break in two.
"Papa!" The boy cried out.
Michael dropped onto his back. His hands trapped under his weight. The pain of hearing his new title weighed too heavy on his heart as the cries grew louder.
"It could all stop, you know? The boy would cease to be inflicted with pain, if you simply gave me what I wanted," Sandalphon called out.
"I can't give it to you," Michael whispered.
"Then the boy will continue to cry out in agony."
"Papa! Papa! Please, papa!"
Michael bit down on his tongue. His chin tipped up as he tried once more to drown out the cries. Pools of tears settled in his ear canals.
"I see… I'll make sure to tell the little Prince personally that his father doesn't care about his pain."
Sandalphon turned on his heels delighted with his progress. He left Michael to his torture no longer interested in talking. And just as he was about to leave the room, he left the door wide open. Allowing the cries of the child to torture Michael even more.
"Ow! Ow! Papa! Please!"
"I'm so sorry, my boy…"
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Dan tapped Michael across the leg drawing him out of his thoughts. He shook, having been so lost in his memories. He hadn't noticed Dan trying to get his attention.
"You okay?" Dan laughed.
"Huh?"
"You were staring pretty hard there. You okay?"
"Yeah… Just.. Just in my head." Michael shook his head, granting his friend his full attention. "I'm sorry. Did you ask me something?"
"No. I just looked over and caught you in your thoughts. You were looking a little intense there for a second. What was that about?"
"Oh. It's… It's nothing," Michael murmured. He looked back over to the window trying to conjure up a different memory, one filled with happiness rather than sadness.
"Had to be something, if it's got you staring so hard you'd shatter my window…"
"I…" Michael directed his attention away from the window. Instead, he turned his vision towards his lap. His hands resting along his lap. He let out a sigh unaware how to bring up his daydream.
"Is it about Ella?"
Michael shook his head. "No, but thanks for that reminder." He brought his hand up, letting it wipe along his face. He masked the way he wiped his tears from under his eyes. With a cough, he cleared his throat of any scratch that may give him away.
"Sorry about that," Dan murmured. He flexed his jaw as he knew he only added to Michael's anxiety.
"It's fine."
"So…" Dan pressed. He knew it was better to get Michael talking.
"Just remembering stuff…" Michael adjusted his seating, finding the topic of conversation hard to discuss. He pulled at the bend of his jeans, wiping the sweat off his palms.
"Like what?"
"I don't really feel like talking about it."
Dan flicked his eyes from the road to Michael. He knew better than to let someone linger in their own thoughts for too long. So he pressed on. He reached over and lowered the volume to the radio. Michael turned his head away from the lap and shot Dan with a frown.
"You know you can talk to me about anything…" Dan let out a chuckle. "I think after last night we both can go to the other with anything."
"Thanks…"
"I'm serious, though." He went ahead and nudged Michael on the knee. "You can talk to me if you're going through something. There has to be a lot swimming through your head right now."
"Yeah… You could say that." His words were short and honest.
"So, let them out. We still got another thirty minutes before we get to the precinct. I'm told I'm a great listener."
"Oh… I don't know. I'm not comfortable with —"
"Or we could talk about Ella. I could tell you were nervous to pick up her FaceTime call. And —"
"Really, Daniel. I… I'm fine."
"Nope. I'm not taking that," he shook his head with discontent, "out with it. One or the other, you choose."
Michael looked at his friend like he had grown a second head. Once again humanity had demonstrated it's tenacity to push his buttons. After everything Dan had learned about him, he still felt the need to give him orders. He didn't know whether to be impressed or humbled.
"Michael?"
So when Dan pressed on the issue that was bugging him, Michael chose the lesser of two evils, he went with the topic of Ella.
"Fine…" He let out a sigh. "Let's talk about the Ella situation."
Dan let a smile spread across his face. Baby steps. He nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him.
The pair shuffled out of the car once they arrived at the police station. Both didn't seem to want to come into the station, but when Lieutenant Herrera called asking about Michael's hospital visit, the two knew it was inevitable.
As the two drew closer to the building, Michael stopped them before entering the building.
"I don't know why you're nervous," Michael said. "You're not the one on the executioner's block right now."
"The Lieutenant is going to want an explanation… I don't know if I have another lie in me. Yesterday was stretching it."
"So leave... The Lieutenant isn't expecting you. I got everything under control."
"You sure?" Dan stopped them outside the building.
"Yeah. If the Lieutenant asks, I'll tell him you had things to do."
"I do have things to do…" He whispered to himself.
"See, it's perfect. Go," Michael jerked his head over to the car. "I'll be fine. I have the meeting with your Lieutenant and then I'll have a quick chat with Ella... Who," he turned around to see if her car was in her parking spot, "not here at the moment." He tried not to frown as he turned back to Dan. "It'll be fine. I'll be fine." Michael shoved his hands into his pockets. When Dan looked at him, he added, "I'll be fine," with more confidence.
Dan didn't believe Michael for one second, but there was little he could do. The two were already at the station. Lieutenant Herrera was probably already waiting for Michael by the stairs. There was no going back.
"Alright." He slapped Michael across the back. "But you'll message me if the Lieutenant asks about me?"
"I will. I got your back, Daniel. Don't worry."
Dan let out a breath of air he wasn't sure he was holding onto.
"If I wanted an angel in my corner, I'm glad it's you, man."
Michael flashed him a smile.
"I should get inside… I wouldn't want your Lieutenant sending a search party after me."
"No, yeah! Go, go."
Michael nodded his head, leaving the Detective behind. Dan made sure to stick around for a while just in case Michael made a break for it. He knew it was unlikely, but he felt he needed to at least see it through. Once a few minutes passed, Dan turned on his heel and made his way back to his car.
With Chloe's cruiser nowhere in sight, he let his mind wander.
"It's not my place," he told himself. He unlocked his car, opening his door. He stopped himself before climbing inside. "It's really not your place… You have things to do. You don't have time to go across town and check in on him."
Dan gripped onto the door frame trying to stop himself from getting into Chloe and Lucifer's business.
"He belittles you and talks shit behind your back, Dan. Why would you go and comfort him?" He shook his head. "Don't do it. You don't have to be the better man." He dropped his hands and slid into his car. He closed the door and sat looking down at his steering wheel. "Don't do it," he told himself.
But something in the back of his head was telling him to drive down to Lux. Something about the memory of Lucifer leaving town and the look on Chloe's face when he skipped town made him cave. He couldn't let this little fight be the end of their partnership.
So he did what any good friend would do. He swallowed down whatever pride he had and agreed to help.
He shook the steering wheel from frustration. "Ah! Why do you have to be such a good person!"
He slipped his right hand off the wheel and turned on the car.
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Michael carried on his way, entering the police station. No one paid him any mind as he moved about the precinct unattended. He was used to it. Everyone either assumed he was there to see Chloe or he was his twin brother. A few faces bid him hello, but the majority ignored him.
As he got onto the elevator to take him down to the bullpen, he took the time to think about what he would say to Ella. Nevermind the Lieutenant, he had more pressing issues to worry about.
A woman in front of him looked over her shoulder.
"Floor?" She asked.
"Bullpen, please."
"No accent…" She turned around so she could get a better look at him. "You must be Michael. Claire, Claire Tyler." Her hand extended out for Michael to shake.
He took her hand with speculation.
"And you know my name, how?"
"Apologies," she drew back her hand. "I'm a part of the mental health team here at the station. I'll be conducting your evaluation in today's meeting."
"I wasn't aware there would be others attending my meeting with the Lieutenant. Let alone an evaluation…"
The elevator doors opened.
The two looked at one another.
Claire flashed Michael a smile before stepping out. "Allow us to talk more in Lieutenant Herrera's office." Her heels clicked along the tile, leaving him behind.
"Very well," he murmured to himself.
Michael stepped out of the elevator before it closed on him. He followed her, hot on her heels. As he turned around the corner, heading down the stairs, he felt like the whole bullpen had their eyes on him. He tried to force a smile on his face, but in all seriousness, he was nervous. His eyes scanned the floor looking for any sign of Chloe or Ella. Chloe's desk was empty. Ella's office was closed, blackness indicating she wasn't inside.
"Mr. Prince?" Claire called out. She was already at the Lieutenant's office, waiting outside. "Care to join me inside?"
"May I ask what this meeting will be about? As I was told this morning, it was just supposed to include the Lieutenant and I."
"All in due time, Mr. Prince." She opened the door to the Lieutenant's office, beckoning Michael to enter. "Please."
He bit his tongue before he let his mouth get the better of him.
"Fine..."
He fixed his face and flashed the woman a smile. He put one foot in front of the other and stepped into the empty office.
Before Claire could offer him a seat, Michael walked over to the first open chair available in front of the Lieutenant's large desk. From behind, he listened to Claire close the door behind him. The clicking of her heels once again filling his ear canals.
"Mr. Prince…"
"Ms. Tyler..." Michael pulled his right leg over his left, placing his hands on the top of his knee.
The woman took a seat in the Lieutenant's large chair, in front of him. From what he had observed, Michael knew she was a woman of business. She held herself to her top standard. Her pencil thin skirt, her pulled back hair, and her lack of question taking told Michael this was serious.
"It's come to my attention that you've been impersonating your brother for the past few months. Seven, to be more precise. Want to fill me in as to why that is?" Her attention was no longer on Michael as she pulled items out of her bag.
"I don't believe I've ever given anyone the impression that I was my brother," he lied.
"Is that so?" She pulled a folder out of her bag. The weight of the thing smacking against the desk was enough to shake him a little. Ms. Tyler pulled back the folder, searching for a piece of evidence to prove him wrong. "July 18th, a young woman reported to have slept with you. Well not you, but Lucifer Morningstar. She stated in this report," she pulled it out, "A woman stepped out of the elevator blazing mad. She threatened Lucifer, but it turned out that it wasn't him? He tried explaining to the woman that he wasn't his brother. That she shouldn't be mad. When I asked him who he was he stated his name was Michael, his twin brother… The woman then pulled out a gun. I ran out before she could shoot him." Ms. Tyler looked up from the report with her eyebrow raised. "Bordering on rape by deception, Mr. Prince."
"I never stated my name was Lucifer," Michael defended himself. "She assumed. And I believe you failed to remember that I had a gun on me by the end of the night."
"The woman with the gun?"
Chloe… But he wasn't going to tell her that.
"Mazikeen Smith. I'm sure you've met?"
"I have." Ms. Tyler smiled as she tried to imagine the scenario. "She's an acquaintance with Detective Decker is she not?"
"She is… So you can see where the protective nature came from."
"Still doesn't explain why you've been pretending to be your brother."
Michael let out a huff as he knew the woman wasn't going to let this slide.
"My brother asked me to keep an eye on things while he was gone. Does that mean I used his name to get things around town, yes. I was tasked to keep up his appearance should anyone come looking around. My brother has been a little protective over his things since the whole Sinnerman capturing debacle." Michael looked Ms. Tyler in the eye the whole time as he delivered his explanation.
She let out a hum as she remembered the grooling paperwork that followed with the late Lieutenant's passing. Her eyes were casted down to her folder once more as she remembered some form she had at the bottom. She held up her finger, silently asking Michael to bare with her.
"Speaking of Marcus Pierce… Before his men were able to destroy some of the files in this very office, the department was able to confiscate a few things." She smiled as she found the small manilla folder at the bottom, wedged in between more reports. "Your name Mr. Prince. Or should I call you Mr. Demiurgos?"
Michael clenched down on his teeth, flexing his jaw. It had been some time since he heard the name.
"There's not much to this name. No birth certificate. Social security number. No -"
"And there wouldn't be," Michael stopped her. "It's not a name I go by."
"Then why was it a part of the files we had?"
Michael shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't worried. Maze had assured him all information on celestial beings had been removed from the police records. Whatever Ms. Tyler knew she was fishing for a connection between the famous crime lord and open files.
"Alright…" She lifted a few forms, reading their contents. "Mr. Pierce seemed to keep a detailed log of your comings and goings. Somewhat paranoid, one would assume. Can you give a statement on that?"
"No, because I never knew the man personally." I did. "As I was told by Detective Decker the man was obsessed with my brother. It would explain the kidnapping Lucifer reported months prior to the fiasco. It doesn't take a Detective to know that the man was obsessed with my religious upbringing. He believed he had captured the Devil and wanted to know what Heaven's greatest warrior would do."
"And that's you? Heaven's greatest warrior?" She asked.
Michael shrugged his shoulders once more. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he was. He had held the title for a millennia before Lucifer had fallen, but once his brother was kicked out, things had changed. He had changed.
"I am Michael to my brother's Lucifer. Mess with him, you mess with me. It's always been the deal with my brother and me. Perhaps Marcus Pierce thought he needed to keep an eye on me just in case I came looking for my brother."
Ms. Tyler nodded her head as her eyes skimmed along Michael's personnel status. They were written in code, but she knew enough to figure out that Michael was a military man. He was trained in something. He wasn't an American citizen, so he was littered with classification, sealed to her curiosity. The coded texts were the closest she was going to get to seeing the man in front of her.
"I see…" She closed the manilla folder, placing it off to the side. Michael watched the folder slide across the desk. As he was distracted, Ms. Tyler cleared her throat. "I apologize for the questioning, Mr. Prince. I jumped right into my curiosity and completely forgot what this meeting was about."
"It's fine…"
"I have been ordered by the department to give you a wellness check." She flashed the angel a smile. She folded her hands in front of her, trying everything to take back the rough start to their interview.
"A wellness check? For what exactly?"
"Mr. Prince -"
"Michael, please."
"Mr. Prince," she stated. "I was just briefed this morning with the details of yesterday's incident, but even I know that something as traumatic as the events that unraveled yesterday are a lot for someone to go through. A kidnapping followed by a car accident from one of LAPD's acquaintances is one thing we don't want going under the radar."
"You're checking my mental health?" Michael questioned. He pulled his leg off the other, sitting back into his chair.
"Yes."
Michael was all too aware that it was more than that. She was fishing for information. Information that would lead her to the dead ends. Maze and Chloe had ensured that. The two had orchestrated enough of a paper trail to keep his identity out of question. With everything at risk of Ms. Tyler's questioning, Michael decided that as of now, he would bite his tongue. He couldn't have any of this getting back to Chloe. She didn't deserve to get in trouble for his blunt nature.
Ms. Tyler's eyes briefly slipped onto the folder that rested on the side of Michael's person. It laid against the side of his body, silently teasing her to know what was inside.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Prince? Seeing as you were in a car accident no more than twenty-four hours ago. One would expect some bruising or broken bones."
Michael looked down at his folder. Feeling the woman's eyes on it, he pulled in onto his lap. He placed his palm on the cover choosing the next words to leave his mouth carefully.
"There's a large bruise going from my chest to my abdomen. The doctor said the seatbelt was my best friend yesterday."
"It seems it was. Is there any pain, Mr. Prince?"
Michael shook his head, "no."
"I'm assuming those are the medical forms Lieutenant Herrera asked for."
"They are…" He replied.
"We appreciate you bringing them in…"
"You're welcome." His tone was soft, sensing this was turning into something completely different.
"Mr. Prince…" Ms. Tyler pushed the chair back from the desk. She walked around and placed herself on the corner of the desk, off to the side of Michael. "Mr. Prince?" He looked up for the first time. "I heard that you went to talk with a social worker yesterday…"
"How did you -"
"We have eyes everywhere, Mr. Prince. Not much gets by us."
Michael sat up straight in his chair. He wasn't aware anyone was watching him yesterday, but it seemed like he underestimated his surroundings.
Mental note: Don't fly around the precinct from now on. Police station is watching your every move.
"I hate to ask, Mr. Prince…" No, you don't. "But was the visit for you? Do you need help?"
"I…" The words were caught in his throat.
"It's okay if a man like yourself knows he needs help. I've seen your file…" Ms. Tyler's eyes scanned over to his personnel folder. "I know you've done time."
He looked up at her with a crooked head.
"You served," she clarified. "It's common for men to come back from war and feel out of place."
Michael squinted his eyes. He wasn't sure where she was getting this information, but she wasn't wrong. He had fought in a war. In fact, he had fought in more than a dozen over his long existence. He had seen things no human could live with, but it didn't mean he needed help. He was fine. He felt fine.
I feel fine.
"I'm fine," he told her.
"I'm sorry, but I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't distinguish between your truths and lies, Mr. Prince."
It's Michael! He wanted to scream at her.
"It's Michael," he repeated, nicely.
"Michael." She tried it out on her tongue. "I can see you are getting defensive. I didn't mean to offend you," she apologized. "I'm just trying to express that I think it's a smart decision that you've started looking into social work."
Michael stayed quiet. He was interested to hear where Ms. Tyler would go with her conversation.
"Not many people take advantage of the resources around them. Many individuals, like yourself, find it hard to seek out help." She mentally kicked herself as she tried to connect the conversation back to Michael. "Not saying you need it, Michael… But I know it was a big step for you to meet with a social worker."
Michael nodded his head in understanding. It was hard for him to walk into the wellness center. Mental health pamphlets littered the walls as he walked inside. Each describing how natural it was to seek out help. It was all a little overwhelming, but he knew what he would get out of it. Some grounding and an understanding that he wasn't okay. What had happened to him, wasn't alright. What he had been through needed to be talked out. The time for bottled up emotions was no more.
"You have children?" Ms. Tyler asked.
Michael nodded his head. When it looked like Ms. Tyler was about to ask another question, he added, "two."
"Genders?"
"Presenting male and female, I'd assume. But you never know with kids these days."
"I see…" She kept her questions to herself. His answer had opened a floodgate of questions she wanted to ask, but she chose to keep them to herself. Nothing in her files had mentioned anything about Michael having children. Not even Pierce's notes on the man. And although the information was like pulling teeth to get from Michael, she appreciated everything she could get.
"I don't mean to be all up in your business Mr. Prince. It's all simply protocol for our meeting. Wellness checks can be a little intrusive. Anxiety filled. I'm not here to add to your stress."
"Thank you…"
"But," she added. Here we go. "I do have to run through a few things before I can call this meeting to a close."
"Of course…" Michael addressed with sarcasm.
Ms. Tyler didn't wish to keep Michael in suspense, so she ripped off the bandaid. "Do you wish to deal with your past trauma and or mental illness?" She asked.
What kind of question is that? I thought you just said you didn't want to place stress upon me?
Michael looked at Ms. Tyler with irritation on his face. His eyes were pinched, flabbergasted at how blunt she was being.
"Again I'm sorry, Mr. Prince, but this wellness check needs to be held. Your actions taken by the police report yesterday states you pulled on the emergency brake to stop the car. You actively used the most dangerous way to get out of a hostile situation. Our higher ups want to know if you have a suicide wish…"
"What?" Michael shook his head. "No… No, of course I don't."
"So pulling the emergency break wasn't -"
"It was reckless and idiotic of me. I understand now that I could have hurt myself more than I could have imagined. It was a fight or flight response I wish I hadn't reacted to." Michael pinched the brim of his nose, actively trying to stop a headache from forming. "I understand that my actions put a man in a hospital…"
"They did…"
Ms. Tyler didn't bother to mention that the driver had passed early in the morning due to his injuries. She didn't wish to burden him with that. No good would come from Michael hearing that he had a hand in another man's death. So she kept the death of the driver under wraps like Liam Harrison's legal team called for.
"And I'm glad you are able to recognize how foolish your actions were yesterday. It's important to distinguish right and wrong decisions so you don't repeat them. The first step to getting better, Mr. Prince is to admit that there are things you could have done better."
Michael nodded his head in response. A hum escaped his lips, unable to vocalize anything for her statement.
"I'm assuming your social worker advised therapy?" Michael gave her a curt nod. "Have you found a therapist you're willing to talk with?"
Of course I have. Linda. What better person to discuss celestial trauma with, than the Devil's personal therapist.
"I have…" He replied.
"Have you set an appointment date?"
"Not yet."
"That's fine." Mrs. Taylor walked away from the corner of the desk and over to her notes. She sat back in the Lieutenant's chair, pulling a pen into her hands so she could jot down some notes.
"What are you writing?" Michael asked. He looked over to the desk trying to make out the chicken scratch she was writing down.
"Notes to bring back to my bosses. Everyone believes you to be a threat… And going off your sealed files, I can see why." Her eyes looked up meeting Michael with a raised eyebrow. "But!" She called out. "I know it's all for show. You are quite the man, Mr. Prince. Clouded with mystery and a troubled past. Equal concoctions for an interesting character." She smiled as if she was talking to a new friend. She placed her pen down and gave Michael her attention once more.
"Is the interrogation over?" He joked.
"Not an interrogation, Mr. Prince. Wellness check." Her index finger waggled in front of Michael, proving a statement. And although it seemed like he was being interrogated, they smiled at one another. "Am I am done with my evaluation, yes."
"Did I pass with flying colors?"
"Mmm, not so much with flying colors, but I have made a note that you will be pursuing therapy. I'm not issuing it as court ordered, but I would highly recommend treating it as one. Once Lieutenant Herrera arrives, we'll go over your restrictions for the near future."
"Restrictions? I... I'm not sure I heard that correctly. What's going on?" Michael pushed himself from the back of the chair, presenting himself on the edge of his seat.
"More will be gone over once the Lieutenant arrives."
Waiting for him to say more, Ms. Tyler looked up. She found him looking out of the office, looking for someone. She was sure he was looking for his friends, but she couldn't be sure. His nervous tapping caused her to try and break the tension. She crossed her hands together. Sympathy seeped into as she knew things were only going to get more stressful for him.
"Do you often fidget when you're nervous?" She asked.
"Huh?" He stopped his leg bouncing. "Oh… No. No, I don't think so."
"Stressed?"
"I don't know." His attention was elsewhere as he tried to ignore Ms. Tyler questions.
Uncertain she would get anymore out of him, she stopped her questioning. She leaned back into her chair, reaching into her purse to send a message over to the Lieutenant.
He's done with his evaluation. You can join us in your office now.
Michael had his eyes on her the whole time, observing the woman as she sent someone a message off her phone. Within a minute's span, Lieutenant Herrera knocked on the door, allowing himself entry. Michael stayed seated as Ms. Tyler rose from her chair, allowing the man to sit in his own seat. Her bag was draped over her shoulder as she took a seat beside Michael.
"Mr. Prince…"
"Lieutenant Herrera…"
"I assume Ms. Tyler and yourself have gotten acquainted."
"Mmm, we have." Michael nodded his head.
"I'll take your physical now," the Lieutenant ordered. His hand reached out waiting for Michael to hand it over. Before anyone could say anything more, Ms. Tyler spoke up.
"About that Lieutenant… You legally can't ask Mr. Prince to release those forms over to you. Not without a warrant or subpoena."
A growl escaped from the Lieutenant. He looked at the form in Michael's lap before retracting his hand.
"I'm more than willing to disclose the contents inside out of good faith. I truly don't wish to drag on this investigation."
"Well there you have it, Claire." He lifted his hand back up, beckoning the file to land into his hands.
"Lieutenant," Ms. Tyler hissed. The two locked eyes. A silent argument bounced between them until Michael cleared his throat.
"Fine," the Lieutenant grunted. He directed his attention to Michael, waving the file away as if he didn't wish to see it anymore. "So let's say you actually went down to the hospital to get examined yesterday. What can you tell me about your missing time from arriving at the precinct until I caught you running down the stairs to meet with Detective Decker?"
Jumping right into it then.
Michael crossed his leg right over the other, directing his attention to the lint around his knee.
"As Detective Espinoza and I clarified yesterday, we were going over his case with Los X. I helped him obtain a warrant by getting him an audience with Judge Turpin. Afterwards, I met with a social worker, as I'm sure you were already aware of." He looked over to Ms. Tyler. She looked to be having a hard time minding her own tongue.
"You were gone for four hours after that…"
"Do you not know how emergency rooms work? I was waiting a long time to be seen by a physician."
The Lieutenant grumbled under his breath once more. He was tired and frustrated. With the new killer dropping bodies in a closer time frame and the Captain breathing down his neck, he had little patience for the man in front of him.
"Might I remind you, that you failed to notify Detective Decker about your joy ride with Detective Espinoza. That kind of stunt is something your brother does and I will not tolerate that in my precinct."
"With all due respect, Lieutenant, it wasn't a joy ride," Michael stated. "We went down to the court house, wellness center afterwards, hospital, and then to his daughter's school. He was my escort the whole day. I didn't break the restriction Captain Urias placed upon me."
Something about the way the Lieutenant pinched the brim of his nose and leaned back into his chair made Michael pull back on his sharp tongue. The man was physically tired. And he didn't blame him. He was exhausted as well. It was the weekend. Saturdays were meant to be a day of relaxation. And here they were. Dressed up in their weekday clothes, arguing with one another about yesterday's miscommunication.
"Something is troubling you about the Captain?" Michael asked. He could feel the Lieutenant's frustration rolling off in waves. It wasn't necessarily fear, but Michael could read it.
"That's none of your business, Mr. Prince…"
"It might not be, but it does concern me when you bring me in on a Saturday afternoon. I'm not mad about that, Lieutenant, I am more than willing to assist you on your thorough paperwork. But something…" He uncrossed his legs, moving to the edge of his seat. "There's something there. Why are you trying to catch me in a lie?"
Ms. Tyler looked between the two men, interested to see where this was going. She had mentioned nothing about Captain Urias during their interview, so she was stunned to hear he had caught up on the department's concern. The Lieutenant let out a nervous chuckle.
"Mr. Prince… I can assure you I am not trying -"
"I would stop there before you continue with that lie. I, like my brother, am able to draw things out of people. I can tell your focus is on the Captain right now. I just…" Michael leaned forward looking into the Lieutenant's eyes. "It's there on the surface. Why are you looking at me for a man you're more interested in?"
"I…" The man tried to pull his eyes away from Michael, but he felt a pull. "I…"
"Mr. Prince, whatever you are doing needs to stop," Ms. Tyler called out.
"Not yet… Lieutenant?" Michael snapped his fingers in front of the man. "Yes, there we go. Lieutenant… What are you afraid of? What does the Captain have to do with me?"
"He… He…" The Lieutenant tried to shake Michael's trance off, but it was no use. Michael only snapped his fingers more to get the man back on track.
"Focus, Lieutenant. What does the connection between the Captain and me have to do with anything?"
"Mr. Prince," Ms. Tyler scolded him.
"He's covering for you," the Lieutenant blurted out.
"Excuse me?" Michael asked. He had not expected that answer. He cut the connection and looked at Ms. Tyler for clarification. "I don't know him, I swear."
When the Lieutenant came to, he looked at Michael with a strong glare.
"I find that very hard to believe, Mr. Prince."
"I don't know the man," Michael stressed. "Yesterday was my first time meeting with him."
"And yet he let you go without so much as a report filed on kidnapping. No follow up questions asking how Liam Harrison was able to lead you into his SUV without prior injuries. Mr. Prince there is practically no evidence of the story you told police officials yesterday."
"I did not ask for Captain Urias to dismiss me. I was fully ready to answer any questions that came my way."
"So why didn't you?"
"He never asked."
"He never asked?" The Lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe Michael for one second.
"No. He kept the conversation on my brother, Lucifer. He… He was obsessed with him. I believe he wanted to know about the connections my brother possesses."
Both Ms. Tyler and the Lieutenant looked at one another.
"I believe he talked to Detective Decker about Lucifer as well. I can't be sure, but I know she wasn't happy about their conversation when he dismissed me. She had expressed how weird the situation was, but didn't go into detail. She was… Well she had her hands full with me and my brother. We were arguing."
"What were you arguing about?" Ms. Tyler asked.
"How I've been reckless with my residency in Los Angeles. I haven't seen my brother in almost a year… He expressed that he didn't bring me out here to cause trouble. He… He takes his involvement with the LAPD seriously. And with my latest incident getting to the Captain, he didn't appreciate putting Detective Decker in that position."
The Lieutenant called for Ms. Tyler over, around the desk and read what he had to write.
Captain Urias is covering for Liam Harrison. He dismissed Michael so he didn't draw attention from Lucifer.
"You're speculating, Carlos. Mind your tongue," Ms. Tyler addressed.
"Don't tell me you can't see it. He's done this for two other suspects. The time for letting this all go under the radar is well passed. We need to -."
"That's enough." Ms. Tyler grabbed the piece of paper and crumpled it up. "Not now," she looked over to Michael, warning the Lieutenant. "You're free to go, Mr. Prince."
"I'm not done with him, Claire."
"Yes, you are. And you will prevent yourself from harassing him any further. We don't need a lawsuit on our hands." She walked over to the chair she had vacated. "Mr. Prince you are free to go, but I would strongly advise meeting with a therapist and working on your situation. Should you have any legal questions regarding your future," she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. "Feel free to contact me personally."
"Claire…" The Lieutenant growled.
"That's enough, Carlos."
Michael plucked the business card from Ms. Tyler's hand. He gave it a quick once over before placing it inside his back pocket.
"Thank you," he whispered. He picked his folder up off the seat and walked over to the front door. Right before he was about to pull the door open, he turned back around. "Lieutenant?"
"Mr. Prince?"
"If you have any gut feeling indicating that Captain Urias is doing anything illegal… I would pursue it."
"Reasoning?" The man stood up from his seat interested to know where this was going.
"Something didn't sit well with me when all he did was ask about my brother instead of the accident. I also heard the Captain mention something about Detective Decker being better off in a high station if she hung around a better crowd." Michael placed his medical folder on top of the shelf on the side of him. "I have nothing to hide, Lieutenant. As I said before, I don't wish to drag out your investigation. I'll leave my forms here for you to review as you wish. Have a nice day, sir."
He bowed his head and left the room before anyone could keep him any longer. He made sure to close the door behind him.
The bullpen was busier than he had ever seen it. Officers were moving about at top speed, shuffling criminals around the room.
He took a second to let everything sink in. Although the meeting had a few surprises, he was glad to have gone through with it. It seemed to clear his name of any concern the Lieutenant had with him and it reassured him that he was on the right path with his progress. All he had to do was make an appointment with Linda and things would start to get better.
As he stepped away from the Lieutenant's office, Michael pulled out his phone and began drafting a message to his sister-in-law. It wasn't anything too detailed. He just typed out that he would like to make an appointment. Afraid he would never send it if he put it away, Michael went ahead and pressed send.
A small wave of relief washed over him as he began to cross out the goals he had made for himself. Therapy. A way for him to come face to face with his trauma. A resource for him to get better.
A smile crossed over his face as he placed his phone back into his pocket. As he pushed himself away from the office, he heard his name being called out to him. He turned around to see Ella standing outside her door frame.
"Were you going to leave without saying hi?" she asked.
Michael shook his head. "Of course not." He made his way over to her. Once he reached her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. "I didn't know you were here. When I first arrived your office was closed."
"I was only kidding," she joked. "I saw Claire Tyler in the Lieutenant's office with you… Pretty serious huh?"
Michael dragged her back into her work room so no one else could hear them talk. He closed the door behind him. Opting to take a seat on one of her work stoll. His hands rested upon his lap, nervously fidgeting with his fingers.
"Just a little wellness check. That's all."
"Wait, what?" She walked over to him, placing her hands on each side of his face. "Who called for it? I hope you didn't think I did… I would never do such a thing. I know -"
"I know, Ells. I know… I know it wasn't you." He turned his head to the side so he could kiss her hand. "According to Ms. Tyler, it was the department. They were just following up with yesterday's incident."
"The department? That doesn't sound right. You're not an employee."
"I guess it had to do with Captain Urias. He didn't really issue anything other than an officer to watch over me. The Lieutenant thought it was fishy."
"Because it is," Ella explained. "You didn't tell me the Captain didn't question you."
"There's been a lot on my mind lately. So much I've barely had time to process everything. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I just…" He wrapped his arms around Ella's waist pulling her close. She slipped between his legs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He placed his head against her chest, enjoying the way her fingers ran through his hair. "I just want to slip into my bed and sleep the day away."
"Don't we all," Ella joked.
Michael pulled his head away, looking up at his girlfriend.
"I'm sorry. I know this case is stressful on you. I shouldn't be talking about my problems when they are nothing compared to yours."
She shook her head. "Your problems are just as important as mine. Heck, I'm sure you're more stressed than me right now." She ran her thumbs under Michael's eyes, trying to smooth out his dark rings. "Have you slept at all in the past twenty-four hours?"
"Yeah…"
"More than three hours?"
"Then no."
"Michael…"
"I know." He wiggled his way into her embrace once more. He held onto her tight as he enjoyed the few more seconds before she called for him to explain their FaceTime call. Soft kisses peppered the crown of his head as she tried to comfort him. "I missed you," he murmured against her chest.
"You did?" A smile spread across her cheeks.
"Mm-Hmm…" He pulled his head back flashing her a smile. "I really am upset that we won't be having our date tonight." His hands ghosted down to her hips, playfully tugging on her belt loops. The imagine of her grinding on top of him last night bringing a smile to his lips. "But maybe tomorrow when everything settles and we both get a good night's sleep?"
"I uh… I don't know, Michael." The smile fell from both their faces. She held her hand along her jaw trying to break the news.
"What?"
"I have a lot of paperwork I have to go over. Chloe's old friend sent over his FBI files for me to look over. I am going to be buried in work well into next week… I don't know if I'll have time for a date anytime soon. I'm sorry."
"Oh… No. No, that's okay." He shook his head, dismissing his worry. "That's fine."
"I'm not entirely sure if I'll be super busy well into next week, I'm just guessing. I don't -"
"No, no it's fine. I wouldn't want you to divide your time. I know a new body dropped. I know how important it is to find your killer." Michael lifted himself up off the work stool. "I should probably go…"
"What? No, you don't have to go. I wasn't trying to kick you out. Michael…"
"I kinda should head out though. I don't want the Lieutenant thinking I'm… Well I don't want him thinking about me much. I don't need him questioning you as well." He placed a kiss on Ella's cheek.
"Oh… Okay…"
"I'll catch you for our evening call?"
"Yeah…"
"Good." He flashed her a smile. "I'll let you get back to work."
Michael waved her goodbye before walking out of the work space. Confusion swept across Ella's face as she watched Michael take off.