This chapter takes place during the events of the last chapter and entirely Michael's POV.
Some things before we get started:
1: Child death and abuse is mentioned in this chapter. There is no explicit detail but be aware. This only occurs in this chapter.
2: I am taking a few liberties with the Archangel Michael. In my research, he is often pictured with scales (weighing of souls) and has been mentioned as a protector. I'm playing with that a bit here.
3: For redemption to occur there needs to be something to be redeemed.
Forward and onward.
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Michael flew away furious with himself and more than a little put out. He had flown around for an hour or two before returning to the villa he was calling home at the moment.
He all but collapsed on the couch leaning his head back with a deep sigh. Brown eyes stared at the ceiling for many long minutes. He leaned forward taking his shirt off with a wince; his left shoulder still aching from where Lucifer had yanked on it so roughly. Rolling his hurt shoulder in an attempt to release some of the tension, he flipped his shirt to examine the bullet holes that now riddled the front of it. Michael wiggled his fingers in the holes with a grimace before discarding it onto the center table in front of him. Lovely, at this rate he was going to run out of clothes. Guess he was back to the sea salt damaged one for now.
What was Chloe doing to him? He didn't remember being this affected by her before. No, wait, she had gotten a bit under his skin there towards the end of his little impersonation. He could posture all he wanted but the truth was Chloe had entranced him. Those gentle touches, the heated looks, and the suggestive tone of her voice had almost ruined him. Michael had played it off, of course, but he couldn't deny that he would have given into her. The thought did not fill him with disgust as it had earlier that day. Course if she hadn't figured out he wasn't Lucifer before that moment she would have before they had gotten very far. Lucifer was far more knowledgeable in that particular area than he was for obvious reasons.
He had not planned on coming into any sort of contact with Lucifer, nor had he even planned on working the case. They were drawing him into their little world and he needed to put a stop to it. Watching them together brought up feelings and memories he would much rather forget about.
Michael got up to get some water. A hot shower would probably help his shoulder but the water would do little to sooth the stinging that made up his face. He wished it would just hurry up and heal already.
A 'woosh' and the sound of flapping wings pulled his attention to the living room.
"Michael."
He felt his body relax some at the sound of his sister's voice. Moving around the corner he found her standing just behind the couch her dark gray wings folded daintily behind her.
"Hello, Rae Rae."
Azrael looked him over her eyes focusing intently on his face. "Who did you piss off?"
Michael snorted. "There are only two angels on Earth other than us at the moment. Make your guess."
"Are you messing with Lucifer?" When Michael only shrugged, Azrael stomped toward him and glare clear on her face. Her wings raised slightly in her frustration. "Michael…"
"What are you doing here?" He had no desire to be chastised by his little sister; not tonight.
Azrael continued to glare at him a few moments before she sighed. Her wings seemed to droop a bit behind her. "It feels like the only reason I see you anymore is to ask for your assistance. I hate that."
"We are all busy, Rae."
"Some of us are anyway." She mumbled under her breath.
Michael rolled his eyes at her. "How bad is it?"
Azrael sighed and hung her head. "Bad." She looked back up at him and the expression she wore made his chest ache. "I never come to you otherwise."
Michael had never liked seeing his little sister look like she did now. He often despised the fact that Father made her the Angel of Death but she had proven time and again that she was more than capable even though a few deaths still got to her, especially, the deaths of children. This did not bode well.
Michael sighed. "Let me get my shirt."
Moments later had them touching down in a very run down neighborhood. They were definitely far from Los Angeles. It was dark and raining hard enough they would be instantly soaked through except for the fact that Azrael's powers protected them. Folding their wings against their backs they made their way down the street. No one could see them; another perk of Azrael's angel powers. Michael was just about to ask where they were going when he saw it. Multiple humans were rushing around a burning and smoking building. Half of it was already put out while the other half still blazed merrily. It was utter chaos. He spotted Azrael's helpers corralling various souls but was too far away to really see them. The fact that his sister had call in so many of her helpers did not sit well with him.
Azrael pulled on his arm. "Come with me. There is something I want to show you first."
Michael followed silently as Azrael led him into the burnt building. The fire had not been kind in its wake as everything turned to ash and cinder. There were still bodies that had yet to be found. Michael deliberately did not look at them too closely. They were much too small.
Azrael led him to a small room that had been utterly destroyed by the fire and waved her hand in front of her. Michael watched as the room changed into what it was before it had been scorched. Multiple small beds lined the room to the point that only a small path led down the middle of them. He stepped further into the room that obvious held many children. Anger settled over him then rage as he noticed the cuffs attached to each bed.
"There is another room like this one." Azrael said behind him. Her voice was low with sadness. "From what I was able to gather one of the elder children set the fire himself; purposefully. Most are orphans. They were abused and assaulted in so many ways."
Michael gritted his teeth. He held his hands tight to his sides in fists. "Where are they?"
Azrael did not ask to who he was referring. She already knew. He was led out of the house and a little ways behind a small group of trees where all the souls were being gathered. Only three were adults and were being held separate from the others. Without a word to Azrael, he moved in their direction.
"Dismissed." He said coldly.
The two angels standing with the souls bowed to him before hurrying over to help the others. He glared down at the three souls before him. They should have already departed and yet here they were. Azrael could not take them up which meant there was no guilt to weigh them down despite their obvious sins. Michael seethed.
"What do we have here?" He asked his voice like ice.
They looked up at him before quickly looking away in the face of his anger. Two men and one woman. One man dared to crawl and grovel at his feet.
"Saint Michael…Please have mercy…"
"Mercy!" Michael kicked the man off him feeling stained by his mere presence. He felt his wings rise up behind him in anger. The fact that this human knew him revealed he was religious and knew his soul was about to be weighed. It only pissed Michael off further. "Did you have mercy on those children?" He pushed his power into the two silent souls freezing them to their spot in fear as he stalked the one scrambling to get away from him. "Did you have mercy when they cried? Did you have mercy when they begged?" The man had backed himself up against a tree and was staring at Michael like he was the Devil. Michael laughed. Even with the fear no guilt came to the surface. Michael waved his hand and sent the soul were it belonged making sure to mark him for a locked door.
The other two were still trembling and crying when he returned to them. Michael crouched down in front of them releasing his power over them just enough they would be coherent. His wings spread out to balance him creating a dark shadow over their quivering forms.
"Any words from you two?"
They quickly shook their heads.
Michael smiled evilly. "You know you're going to Hell, right? Did you honestly think I would let you through my gates after what you did to those children?" They shook their heads again. Guess they figured it was better not to further piss him off. "Although, I'll let you in on a little secret." He quickly started searching them; looking beneath their fear for any sign of guilt. "If you had just judged yourselves, we wouldn't have to do this. You see, guilt weighs a soul down, but when there is no guilt, well, that's where I get called in by Azrael over there. She collects the evidence and I judge the soul in question. Very rarely do those souls get through the Silver Gates."
Michael paused focusing on the woman to his right. There was just the tiniest amount of guilt. He sneered as he pushed the other man with his wing and he was gone. Michael turned to the guilty one. He focused and brought that guilt forward making the woman curl in on herself as though in pain. "Guilt gives you a chance."
The woman looked up hopefully. Michael scoffed.
"You're still going to Hell." He chuckled as her face fell and the fear came back with a vengeance. "You can; however, get out if you face your guilt. Your door will remain unlocked. It's so much easier said than done though, but I wish you luck."
Michael grinned before knocking the woman over with a flap of his wings. There was a scream before the soul vanished.
He stood and turned to find Azrael watching him with a blank expression.
"You were especially hard on them."
"They caught me on a bad day. Besides, they mutilated children in the worse way possible. They deserve everything they get." Michael stated unapologetically. He sometimes wondered why his Father created humans in the first place. So many of them were cruel and evil in ways he had never imagined before. Even Lucifer, the one they called the evil one, had a better moral compass than they did.
Azrael nodded in agreement. "I still need your help."
Michael blinked at her as dread filled him. "Azrael…"
"I know." She hated making him do this. "They are so fearful, Michael, they aren't letting us help them. Please. You know I wouldn't ask if there was any other way."
Michael closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He nodded stiffly to Azrael. "Show me."
Azrael led him to the gathering of child souls. They were huddled close together and their fear soaked the surrounding area. Michael couldn't breathe it was so thick. Children were never meant to be this afraid. It made his stomach twist in knots. His Fathers most innocent souls were being forced into this darkness and horror. Was it any wonder Michael hated so many of the humans he came in contact with?
Michael took another few deep breaths to calm his own anger that still lingered from before. It would do him no good here.
Slowly, he approached the group, his wings once again folded against his back. The children noticed him and huddled closer together as they watched him wearily with fear in their eyes. The eldest kept the younger between them. Dear Father, the oldest appeared to be only ten. Gently, he waved Azrael's helpers away. They sent him sympathetic looks he did not care for.
"May I approach?" He addressed the children. "Only to sit on that log there." He kept his voice gentle as he pointed to the mentioned log. Cautiously, the children looked to one another before one stepped forward a bit and nodded.
Michael smiled warmly, sitting calmly with his hands on clear display. He had nothing to hide from them. "I'm Michael. May I ask your name?" He spoke to the one that was clearly the elected leader among them.
"Benjamin."
"Hello, Benjamin." Michael said still smiling. "Mind if I call you Ben?" Ben shook his head. "How old are you, Ben?"
"Eleven."
Father, why? "That's a good age. May the youngest of you step forward as well?"
A few more nervous looks passed between them. How many were there? Michael did a quick head count. Twelve. Damn it. A small girl came forth holding the hand of a boy slightly older than her.
"Hello, what's your name?"
The girl looked to the boy who nodded. She turned back to him with a nervous look. "Susan. I'm eight. This is my brother." She smiled softly like she knew a joke he did not. "His name is Michael and he's ten."
Ah. Michael chuckled. "Susan and Michael. Those names suit you."
The boy rubbed the back of his head nervously. Susan giggled a bit before looking at him concerned. "What happened to your face?"
He was never going to escape this now, was he? "I had a bit of a disagreement with my brother that got a bit out of hand. You ever fight with your brother?"
Child Michael shrugged. "Used to. Not so much now. I was too busy trying to protect her." He looked at Michael with tears in his eyes. "Didn't do much good, did I?"
"You did perfectly." Michael said reassuringly. "You tried and did all you could. That is all any of us would ask of you."
Susan sniffled. "I'm so scared."
Michael reached out a hand toward the girl. "I can help, if you allow me." He always let children come to him.
Timidly, Susan stepped forward and reached for him. Her brother held her back nervously.
Michael nodded at him and held out his other hand. "Come with her. I will not harm you."
Slowly, they came to him together. Each one took an offered hand. He searched within them for their fear. It was dark and sour and had filled them both for the past six months. Michael felt his anger grow again but quickly squashed it when they flinched.
"I am sorry. I am not mad at you." He assured them quickly before taking hold of their fears.
Instead of bringing it forward, he compressed it, balled it up and vanquished it for them. The change was immediate. The little souls brightened and smiles spread on their faces in the way that only children could achieve. Michael smiled at them warmly feeling his own worries fall to the side in the face of their brightness. These souls were precious and so heavily cared for in the Silver City.
Susan giggled. "May I touch them?"
Seems she had fully noticed his wings. Michael ruffled them a bit before bringing the left one around for her inspection. They always asked. He always gave into them. After what they had suffered, he could handle a little innocent fondling. Their touches were always brief, more a pet on the surface just to feel the soft feathers. Susan and her brother were no different.
Both smiled before launching at him for hugs. Michael startled a bit but returned the hug resting a hand on each head.
"Go in peace." He mumbled to them before handing them off to one of the helpers that had come forward to collect them. Susan and Michael went willingly.
After watching in nervous silence, the other children came to him much easier and quicker. Michael made sure to get all their names (he never forgot them) and took their fears one by one. Each child was then handed over to an awaiting angel helper to be carried to the Silver City were no fear or pain would ever touch them again.
Eventually, Ben was the only child left. He stared at his feet in serious child-like contemplation. Michael watched him and waited. Sometimes it was all they could do. The child had to make their own decision to come to them. Part of Father's free choice gig. If Michael forced them, his power would not help. He had only done it once and had never done it again.
Ben looked at him with all the seriousness that an eleven year old could muster. "You are Archangel Michael? They went to heaven?"
Michael raised an eyebrow. So Ben had some religious upbringing. He couldn't help but wonder how he had ended up here. "Yes and yes."
Ben stepped toward him. He looked frightened and resigned. Michael watched him confused. "Dad told me I was going to Hell. That true?"
Michael recoiled. Understanding hit him in the face. The soul that knew him…this boy's own religious knowledge… Ben was the one to set the fire. "Of course not!" He spat all new anger rising forth. A child in Hell? He'd cut off his own wings before that happened. As much as he hated his brother, Lucifer wouldn't have stood for it either.
Ben flinched but then stood tall again. "He said it was because I kissed another boy."
Michael blinked. Memories flashed; hesitant touches, nervous hands, and tentative kisses, all so very experimental. He shook them away. "If that was the case I'd be there right now."
Ben tilted his head then stared wide eyed at him. "You for real?"
Michael chuckled dryly. They were memories better left buried. "Yeah, I'm 'for real'."
Ben smiled at him as though Michael had shared a very big secret with him. He had for all intents and purposes. Michael accepted the hand that was held out for him. That was new.
"Did you love him?" Ben asked innocently.
That question brought Michael up short. More memories surfaced that he tried so hard to stamp down but failed. Happy smiles and laughs. Not-so-secret pranks. Sly looks that only they had been able to understand. Michael closed his eyes then gritted his teeth as it only made the memories burn brighter behind his eyelids.
"Michael?"
Michael opened his eyes to find Ben looking at him worriedly and that Azrael had moved forward to place a hand on his shoulder. It had been her that had called to him. Michael sighed then shook himself. His wings fluttered behind him; their soft rustle caught Ben's attention. Michael noticed and moved the one that Susan and her brother had stroked earlier closer to him. Azrael remained where she was at his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Ben mumbled even as he reached to stroke over the primaries.
"I did love him. Too much." Michael admitted in a pained whisper. A moment of weakness; he had come to regret it, painfully.
The three remained in silence. Ben carefully stroked his small hands over Michael's wing while Azrael watched over them both. It was peaceful in their little corner away from the chaos just a few yards away; the same chaos that was currently happening within Michael.
"You ready to go?" Michael asked eventually. It was pointless to delay.
Ben nodded. There was no longer any fear for Michael to find. They had already conquered that. Ben smiled at him taking Azrael's hand.
"Maybe you still do. Maybe you should tell him." Ben told him with the innocence that only children had.
Michael shook his head. It was much too late for that. "Go in peace, Ben."
Michael watched them as they disappeared then hung his head. The rain pelted down on him with Azrael's departure. Dark wings rose to cover his head instinctually. The water rolled and dripped off them in rivulets. Eventually, the rain slowed. Most of the humans had departed the scene by then. Slowly, the rain came to a complete stop. Still Michael sat unmoving lost in his own thoughts. So lost he was that he didn't hear Azrael return until she gently pushed his wings back to uncover him.
"I thought you might still be here." She said gently.
Michael shrugged. His wings stretched and shook away the accumulated water before folding.
"What are you doing, Michael?"
"Sitting here in the rain." He responded dryly.
Azrael was not amused. "I talked with Gabriel. She told me everything."
"Of course she did." Michael scowled. "Little messenger is nothing but a gossip."
"I'm sure I don't have to remind you what happened the last time you let your jealousy get in the way."
Michael glared up at her. Azrael did not back down from him and returned the glare.
"No, sister, you don't."
The siblings continued to glare at each other. Azrael sighed. She kneeled in front of her brother and took his hands in hers to rest them on his knees. Azrael looked at him intently.
"Then let me say something and I want you to hear me, Michael." Azrael made sure he made eye contact with her before continuing. "You and Lucifer were, are, my favorite brothers. You two would tease me to the point of insanity but let any of the others do it and you two were on their case instantly. I didn't just lose one brother to the fall, Michael, I lost two. Something broke in you that day and you haven't been the same since."
Michael jerked away and forcibly stood to get away from his sister. "I don't know what you are talking about."
Azrael stood and chased after him. "You are lying to everyone, Michael. More importantly, and even worse, you are lying to yourself."
Michael twisted back on her eyes narrowed and teeth bared like he was some kind of dog. "It's how I stay safe!"
"Safe? This is what you call safe?" Azrael waved her hands at him irritated. Michael growled at her but she ignored him. "You are controlled by your anger and your hate and you are taking it out on the wrong person."
Michael scoffed with a laugh. "Mother is in an alternate universe now and Father remains ever untouchable and unreachable! Lucifer is the only one left!"
"I meant you!" Azrael yelled back just as heated. "You are punishing yourself just as much as you are trying to punish everyone around you. You won't even allow yourself to heal properly, Michael."
Michael stared at his sister angrily his breaths coming fast and short. Azrael stood just as firmly; never giving an inch. As small as she was, she could be a force to be reckoned with if the right buttons were pushed. Michael didn't want to have this conversation. Not now when memories were so close to the surface. Not ever in fact. He was losing his grip on everything and really just needed to get away. What was worse was he knew she was right. Michael flapped his wings and was gone.
Azrael stood silently staring at the place her elder brother had disappeared from. She sighed, her heart heavy with worry. "I hope you know what you are doing, Father."
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Michael slammed the door not caring that it rattled the entire frame of the villa. He stormed across the living room, grabbed a flower vase that was sitting innocently on the center table, and threw it into the nearest wall. It smashed with a resounding crash that did little to appease his mood. Next, were the stools at the breakfast bar. They splintered where he threw them. Michael had just grabbed his glass from earlier when he noticed a small piece of paper left on the bar. He looked at it curiously. That had not been there before.
Michael,
I hope you don't mind but I wanted to provide you with a few essentials.
Love,
Rae
It took Michael a few moments to comprehend what the little note actually said. He looked up into the kitchen. Quickly, he moved to look in the fridge and counters to find them now fully stocked. With a thick swallow he moved to the bedroom he had taken residence in. Nothing looked out of place. Michael opened the closet to find multiple sets of clothes; the drawers were the same. Michael backed away from them until he sat on the foot of the bed.
This was the straw that broke him. From being thrown out, having the gates locked, being shot, having his face sliced open, being manhandled, shot again ruining what he thought was the last of his shirts, to dealing with everything that had happened tonight, and then this; Michael broke. He couldn't have stopped the tears if he tried. His hands fisted in his hair as he leaned over his knees. It was just too much. He felt like everything he had worked so hard to build up was falling down around him. Everything that he had buried was drowning him. His heart bled from reopened wounds he thought closed long ago. Rae was right. He had never healed. He had never given himself the chance.
P.S. Maybe it's time to face the truth instead of running from it. I'm here if you need me.
