Michael decides to do what he was best at: lie.
He blinks at Azrael and gives her his best wide-eyed bimbo look. Not that he'd had to use it much, but it never hurt giving it to marks when he was running low on time and needed them to just follow him out to an alley already while hunting.
"Um hi, do I know you?"
Rae Rae puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. "Michael, I know it's you. First, everyone knows. Second, my wings are out and you're not some normal human because you're not in a drooling puddle on the floor yet."
He curses under his breath. "First, put those away then. Everyone else here is on all the meth, but it's only a matter of time before someone teeters out here on stripper heels and ends up cuckoo for cocoa puffs because of your divinity."
"Sure, whatever." She shoves her wings away, a quick flick and nothing divine to be spied.
Michael ignores the roaring flames of jealousy rioting through him. Since the Rebellion, he has been jealous of every siblings' perfect and painless wings, Samael's most of all. But now, he just wishes he had his scraggly, crappy pair back, so he wouldn't have to keep debasing himself in a variety of ways to keep the pain at bay. Instead, he focuses instead on the first thing she said to him.
"What do you mean everyone knows, Azrael?"
She takes off her glasses and wipes them on her fish themed sweater. He's not sure why she has that affectation, but he can hardly comment on angelic sartorial senses or anything else these days.
"Dad told us what happened when He got home. Honestly, since Lu and he had a big blow out before Dad came home, and surprise-surprise aren't speaking again, and Amenadiel is dealing with Charlie being just mortal apparently, they're about the only two who haven't checked in with Dad since, uh, your punishment really got started."
Michael breathes a small fraction-just a hint-better knowing that Samael and Amenadiel don't know. Though, honestly, he'd have sworn that Sam suggested this particular punishment deliberately. It was somehow a relief, however paltry, to realize that at least his twin didn't know for now that they were far from identical currently. Still, that meant the rest of the Host, who were already Samael's cheering section, all now knew how far their former general had fallen.
That Remiel and Gabriel knew.
Fucking perfect.
He clutches his spoils more tightly and glares at his little sister. "So why are you here? Someone chase the dragon too hard a few doors down? Ooh, maybe after a real rager a human asphyxiated on their own vomit. I mean, sky's the limit when you handle deaths, am I right, Sis?"
Rae Rae flinches at that, and he almost feels badly. She didn't ask for her shitty job anymore than he asked for his or his power, the one that ruined parties and didn't exactly win friends and influence people. But here she was dogging him and being so generous as to let him know what a full laughing stock he was above. As if he didn't feel so very much like a walking punchline already.
"I'm here to see how you are, Mi. I...you shouldn't have picked a fight with Lu and Menny."
Michael sighs and his voice comes out more bitchy than even he intended. "Oh, yes, I think I noticed I got my ass kicked. Thanks."
"I'm serious. I tried to warn you-"
"And I didn't take it. Azrael, I don't know if I appreciate the Silver City updates, but it's touching you were concerned. I...thanks. I'm fine." And in all his immortal life, Michael has rarely told a bigger lie, but then again, he has to say that, has to keep convincing himself that he'll hold it altogether. If he ever really stops to take everything in, to worry about all his differences, especially how uncontrolled his fear powers are, he might start screaming and never stop.
His sister steps forward and sets a soft hand on his wrist. It irks him all over again both at Dad and at himself that her hand is far bigger in comparison to his arm than it should be and all the vertigo hits him again like wave. "I really was worried. Dad said he took your wings too and that's true, isn't it?"
He nods, no point in denying it. She has to know by now. A startled Celestial, and her hop in was a shock, well...a startled Celestial always unfurled their wings first, went for their best weapon. He hadn't because he was basically defenseless, at least by angelic standards. If he even counted anymore.
"No wings and no other things, sure you can guess." He sighs again and grabs the loot tighter in his grip. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a ton of shit and a room to get back to."
"No worries. I have a few minutes, no immediate disasters right now, so lemme come with," she chirps, and he starts back to his room, taking long strides deliberately to try and outpace Rae Rae and give her the hint that he's not into cumbaya time right now.
"Michael, come on! How is this fair? Why aren't you a shortie too?"
"Because Dad has some sense of ridiculous humor, and I still lost five inches."
Rae Rae glares at him, her own eyes gone gold from off over his shoulder. "Yes, so short, totally miniscule. Can you slow down? I have to take like three steps for each of yours."
"Yeah, exactly, that's the point. Sis, I don't really feel like a sleepover right now." He blows a long strand of hair out of his eye. "Not exactly going to braid each other's hair, right?"
"What do you think girl archangels do all day?"
He snorts. "Same as the rest of us: whatever Dad says do. I think me, Sam, and that time Amenadiel rotted his wings off but hey his grew back...anyway, we're all object lessons on what happens when you don't. Keep being all devout, Rae Rae."
They get to the door and he turns to put himself between her and the knob. In no way is he in the mood to referee between Ella and his littler sister, to have Ella realize there never were ghosts at all and there is somehow more to her rabbit hole than just now knowing the former Defender of Heaven.
"And see, I'm not gonna say I'm 100% but I'm managing. I'll see you in a few years, no worries."
She shakes her head. "No, I mean if I were suddenly a guy-besides the height cause that would rock-I'd be hella-confused. And without wings...I can't even imagine."
He sighs. "Best if you don't." Michael figures offering a bit more information will satiate her enough to vamoose. "Look, it hurts, I'm not going to hide that. Wings? Apparently even shit ones are very important. I'm having a lot of phantom wing cramps, but I have a way to manage it, so I'll just wait a few ice ages or million years, see if Dad gets over it. I mean, it's not like I Rebelled or sent a giant flood. I might get off soon enough relatively speaking for good behavior."
Rae Rae sniffles at that and rubs at her eyes again. "Maybe, but you just...are you sure you don't need help?"
I need all of it.
"Nope, totally fine, so I'll catch up again later. Night, Sis-"
The door opens and Ella pokes him in the hip. "Michael, it's been like thirty minutes. How hard was finding vending machine food? Ooh, did you get your violence on without me because no fair, and I want my own mugger then and holy shit!"
He groans and steps to the side, no point now since clearly Scrappy has seen Rae Rae from around him. "Lopez, great, way to make my night better."
Michael gives a panicked glance to Azrael and prays so only she can hear it I can explain, I swear, but she only met me like this and she does not know about my relation to Samael. I...Rae Rae, don't tell her. Please.
That last part is pathetically small and plaintive, but it's honest at least. He's only supposed to be keeping her alive for gambling and vengeance, but he doesn't actually want this to end yet. It's weird and sometimes overwhelming, but it isn't lonely, and it's the first time in a very long time, even back at home, that he hasn't felt so bereft.
His sister gapes between them both and she doesn't answer back. Michael swallows hard, not sure what Azrael is going to do, but terrified she'll blow his cover.
"Rae Rae?" Lopez's lip wibbles a bit and she rubs at her eyes. "I...Michael, can you see her too?"
"Yes, of course," he says, giving his sister the best approximation of puppy eyes he can.
"Right because duh I guess angels can see ghosts," she finishes, but then she frowns. "Wait, but you said, Mike, that ghosts aren't actually real and...what is going on?"
Michael sighs and wishes he could pinch the bridge of his nose, but he's still loaded up with hopefully not expired sodas and twinkies. "Here's an idea. Let's go into our room and away from whatever johns wander by. Three of us out here are about to get solicited for who knows what freaky bullshit and I, for one, am too expensive for this set."
He winks at Lopez, trying to get the joke across, but she's mostly frozen and gaping between Rae Rae and himself.
"What's going on, really?" Lopez demands.
"Yeah, totally wanna know that too, Michael?"
"Then someone get the door. Sugary, processed snacks don't make it easy to twist open a door knob."
He sits on his bed, cross legged, and has eaten his way through one set of twinkies and now into some snowballs, which suck. Lopez is pacing the tiny confines of their room, her rant a million miles an hour in Spanish, so he gets she's pissed, but he has no idea the exact flavor of furious. Meanwhile, little sis looks as scared as if she were facing Lilim while sitting on Lopez's bed. He tosses her a bag of Doritos.
"Hey, so we going to talk or just pace and freak out? I was gonna try and get some beauty rest before a fuck ton more driving tomorrow but an intense stare off also works. Seriously, Rae Rae, it's not even that stale. Have some bounty."
Lopez stops pacing and rolls her eyes at him. "You broke into the vending machine, no ve?"
Rae Rae nods. "Man, kind of a not the best use of Celestial strength, but it was impressive." She opens the bag on her lap and bites into a Dorito that mostly crunches. Mostly. "Meh, these are a bit stale."
"But they're free!" Michael points out.
"I...if ghosts don't exist and you two know each other...can someone explain this? Like what? You're a fairy or maybe a goddess? Help me out here."
Michael snorts. "Azrael wishes she were a goddess. Only one of those in the universe and She's currently somewhere toasty."
"Right, just your mom because She...She sent that flood."
Michael nods. "Yeah."
Lopez's eyes widen as she regards Azrael. "Azrael...like the Angel of Death."
His sister blushes hard and practically squeaks. "Yeah, caught me. I'm the Angel of Death, and Michael's my big uh brother."
He nods. "We're still going with that. A few months in a different form just because Dad's in a snit doesn't undo billions of years." And it didn't. Not at all. It was like a blink to a mortal, even if he was starting to feel new things, even if the way he felt arousal around Lopez was both so startlingly different but somehow so fitting. "So yeah, that's my little sister."
Lopez sits hard on the mattress beside him. He's not sure why she's not taking the time to catch up with one of her oldest friends (apparently), but he continues to munch his sugary snacks and let the girls sort it all out between them.
"You never said you were an angel."
"I thought that would make you sound nuts," Rae Rae admits. "And Dad has that no Divinity and humanity mixing rule so..."
Michael sighs. "Yeah, well, between me and you and some of our siblings, I guess that's more like a guideline now."
"Yeah, I mean nephil, go figure and-"
Please, watch what you say, Azrael. Lopez doesn't know that Sam is Lucifer and not just a shit actor even now or that Amenadiel made a defective half-angel.
This time, his sister glares at him.
So, I'm just gonna lie.
He snorts. "Like that'll be different and anyway on topic, why did you ever do the 'I'm just a ghost' in the first place?"
She shakes her head, and he knows before she flits off, they'll be talking privately about his own half truths. "Because of Dad's rules, but also I think it's because of I dunno...in my head saying I was a ghost sounded easier for her to understand."
"I was eight!" Lopez shouts. "I didn't understand any of it." She looks frantically between them both. "I'm pretty sure I still don't. I...why me?"
Rae Rae quirks her head at Lopez and frowns. "I don't understand the question. Why not you?"
"I dunno. Do you show yourself to humans often? Do you have a lot of 'ghost buddies?'" Ella demands, her tone icy.
Rae Rae shakes her head. "No. Honestly, you were the first one I ever talked to outside of leading a soul up to Michael to be Judged. I ferry to the Silver City, and if someone fails the evaluation, then I take to the gates for Lu...the Devil to deal with. That's kind of my thing. It's dull but it's always super busy, but you were nice and easy to talk to, so I just did."
Lopez is so livid, she's shaking at this point. "You kept coming back! My family thought I was nuts! I mean, Ricardo was so mean to me about the ghosts, but it wasn't that...not at all. I...so why me? Like if you're gonna be all 'Be not afraid' but without even admitting that part, then why me? Am I supposed to be a saint? Is this some shitty way to prep a Joan of Arc thing because I'm a terrible choice for a crusade or something."
Michael sighs and sets his stash on the bedside table. Then, without asking, he wraps an arm around Scrappy's shoulder to steady her. "You're not. You're just nice. I dunno. You just really are easy to get along with. I'm gathering little sis just got lonely. I only got involved with you because it was that or let some asshat in an alley beat the shit out of you. Wasn't an option."
Rae Rae's eyes widen. "What?"
Lopez looks between them both but despite the tension in her shoulders, she still relaxes into his arm. "Look, I..."
"Ella, what have you been doing? I knew that you quit your job and were road tripping. I...I knew about Pete."
Lopez freezes in his arm and sniffles. "You did?"
His sister nods. "I...I was there, not to collect, but I mean...we're not supposed to interfere, but the sort of angel on your shoulder, whispering subconsciously to take that syringe with you from the grow room? That was me."
Michael can feel Ella's fear as soon as it peaks. It's so visceral that he doubles over with it, and takes a sharp inhale, gagging a bit on the noxious scent of lilies. Reluctantly, he lets go of Lopez's shoulder, and she stands, uttering a garbled apology and heads to the bathroom. The shower sounds soon after, indicating that whatever gab fest they were engaged in is now officially over.
Michael takes in great gulps of air and finally forces his power away, enough to be able to focus. He's not even sure if the overwhelming waves of nausea from feeling fucking Pete all over again is because he has next to no control over his gift any longer (and would it have killed Dad to have a fucking returns policy) or because it's Ella. He's never really felt the fears this keenly and deeply about someone he cares about. Maybe once, when he was very young and making the universe even for the Demiurge came with threats, but it's been almost forever since he gave a damn about Samael like that, like they were really brothers.
Eventually, things even out, but he calms mostly when he feels Rae Rae's hand on his shoulder. When he looks up, the concern in her eyes aches. He's not used to pity, except from her a bit after he was injured post-Rebellion. He's not sure he likes the look from Azrael any more than he does from Lopez. He's dealing. He was the Sword of God; he doesn't need pity.
He doesn't.
"What's going on here?" Azrael asks, snapping his focus back to her.
He stands and leads her out. They wander the parking lot of the motel till they come to a bench not too far from the main office. He sits and she does the same beside him. "You let Pete hurt her?" He asks. It's the first thing he says to break the silence.
"I couldn't really obviously interfere with her. I did it once and so this time, had to be super under the radar. I mean, she's alive, right? Go me!"
He blinks at his sister, and something dawns on him. Truly, really dawns on him. He'd suspected perhaps, but Azrael's slip confirmed it. "She was supposed to die in that car accident, wasn't she?"
Rae Rae's eyes get comically large. "Shh, I worked really hard to hide it. It took a lot and a favor I called in from Death so Dad doesn't...I didn't say anything. Please don't tell Him."
Michael gapes at her. In all her time, she's never been this reckless, not ever. "You did what?"
"I won't say it again. I didn't mean to say it at all. But I wasn't...if that wasn't gonna be the reason, it certainly wasn't gonna be that total d-bag Pete!"
"Azrael, do you understand what you did? Do you have any idea? If Dad does find out-"
"Well, you're not gonna tell Him! It's not like He noticed yet. He was so busy and kind of vacationing through the multiverse for a while. He likes that one earth a few universes over where that Chloe still acts or whatever."
Michael rolls his eyes. Dad running different romance scenarios for Sam and his Miracle irks him to no end. For a split second, he wonders if there are loops and variations on him that aren't utterly miserable. Seems too hard to hope. Dad does love making him such a punching bag. "Figures."
"Yeah, so I didn't say anything and you're not gonna tell anyone, even Ella!"
He snorts, and okay, maybe he is mastering the ultimate bitch tone. "Oh, well, you know how I have Dad on speed dial, and the rest of the Host love listening to me."
"Wow, you do have the whole annoying sorority girl condescension vibe going on."
He narrows his eyes at his little sister. "Hardly."
"Maybe! You have that icy death glare down too."
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs again. "Rae Rae, seriously, why was it her? Why did you take a risk that big for Lopez?"
"Why did you? You've been on the road for a few months on your own since uh that fight in L.A. right?"
"Yeah," he says, voice quiet.
"Well, why did you save her instead of just looking away?"
Michael laughs bitterly. "Because she was nice to me. No one ever is, and she's so incredibly kind and good and gentle...I couldn't let her suffer. I just couldn't."
"That's how I felt when the accident happened. She's like all this sunshine, and I know...what Pete did and how awful it was. I saw him do it, but I just...I hope that sunshine doesn't just die out, Michael. It would be awful."
"I won't let it," he says, surprised a little by the vehemence in his voice.
"You really care about her, huh?"
He frowns. "This isn't about Sam at all. I...I saved her by doing what angelic things I still can, by using my fear powers and showing her the full Light of God stuff," he finishes, gesturing to his eyes. "I told her I was twins with Satan, but I didn't...for once in my existence, no one sees me and thinks Lucifer. So I didn't make the connection for her. I know this won't last. She's gonna go home, shake off her shock, and be a forensic scientist again. But if until she gets this all worked out, she keeps running into alleys and beating up wannabe date rapists...she's not safe. I can't let her get herself killed. I'm just the loaner mostly angel until she goes home and Sam and Menny can watch her again." He shakes his head. "Not that they did such a bang up job before."
"Is that how you deal with everything? I mean, if she's out there being a vigilante or whatever...does you helping...I dunno...does it help with your wing pain?"
He looks away and at the sidewalk, feeling drained. "She needs or thinks she needs to go all Batman and Robin on douchebags because I'm pretty sure every time, it's just her rewriting how that night went and kicking the shit out of a Pete stand in. I know that's not how even humans are supposed to cope with trauma. But it's what helps her. I...the pain is so bad, Azrael. In my shoulders and back, when it really hits, I can't think. I can't even breathe, not that we need to much."
His sister sets a hand over his own, and again that fucking shock and disorientation that it's not his hand, not really. And he hates Father all over again but mostly himself because Rae Rae is right. At the end of the day, all he had to do was ignore Samael, and his life wouldn't be great but it wouldn't be this.
"So you get something out of the vigilante act too?"
"I get something out of scaring humans, really scaring them. Letting my powers loose like that gives me energy, for a while. It runs down, and the pain comes back. Either way, when the phantom pains get bad enough I'm not thinking clearly. I'll Fear anything." He swallows hard. "The second time Lopez and I met, she didn't get it and touched me when I was getting real bad. She's felt all of what I can do like this, of how just uncontrolled my power over fear is without wings. I don't...Uriel cared about the ins and outs of this stuff, the patterns. I just needed it to work on the battlefield when I was still worthy to be there but-"
"But what?" she asks, gentle as always.
"I think wings are crucial to what we are. I know Sam didn't have his for a while or Amenadiel. Sam wasn't a fraction of what he could be I think during his vacation early on here. Amenadiel was basically mortal. I just...without my wings, I have no lightening rod, no focus for my powers. They're running amok."
"So the fear?"
"Yeah, so small doses, controlled to stop the pain and to keep me from really going overboard."
Rae Rae squeezes his hand. "I don't get this. I know you messed up, but not that badly. I mean Dad...maybe I can talk to Him."
He stills and then shakes his head. "Don't you dare. Yeah, compared to banished to rule Hell for all eternity or locked in a cell under Maze's torture schedule, Dad probably thinks my punishment is mild. If you talk back to Him...Azrael, I'm figuring it out. Don't get Dad angry with you too, please."
And sometimes for all the machinations and games Father plays-has always played-Michael wonders why he ever served Him as faithfully as he did for as long as he did, even with his attempt to have a reprieve with Lily long ago.
And wasn't that its own disaster?
She sighs and then hugs him. It doesn't last long at first. She yips and pulls back, realizing probably how different it feels to hug him like this, that while he's still stiff and crooked (and for the millionth time, fuck you too Sam), he's softer in so many places. Nothing like what he was.
"Sorry, I...was that too much?"
"No, it was nice," he admits before sweeping her up in his grip. "I'm managing. I just won't breathe a word or even think about the things you've...about why Ella's still here. We're managing. I just have to get her to realize she needs to go home and stop risking her neck. I can do that; I just need more time."
"You really like her, don't you?"
"Scrappy Doo? Meh, she's okay. Way less annoying that most other humans."
Rae Rae laughs and looks up at him. At least that much has stayed the same, more or less. "No, it's more than that. The way you held her...the fact you're hanging with any human at all when you were so vintage Amenadiel about it and staying separate and stuff."
"Nah, I just...she's nice to me. That's all. She's too good for all this crap, and she's too good for that piece of shit Pete."
Rae Rae looks like she wants to press things again, but she doesn't. Instead, she changes topics. "Isn't there anything I can do? This isn't...what you're doing isn't ideal, Michael. You can't just keep hoping if you scare enough humans you can learn to live with the pain."
"Well three months is barely a sneeze and Dad's not gonna reprieve. It works. It's not an elegant solution. It's the best idea I've got."
She sniffles at that, and oh yes, all the that pity. He wonders though he dares not ask about how his little sister sees him now. Is his form more jarring because he's technically female or is it more the shock about the depths he's started to stoop to. Wingless and predatory, a CINO or Celestial in Name Only, perhaps.
"Maybe I can find something to help with the pain at least?"
"Knock yourself out, squirt. I am sure that's the feature, not the bug, though..." he trails off, thoughtful.
"What?"
"See if there's anything you can find out about Celestials without wings. I mean, not a lot of us over time, but maybe...I dunno. For now, it's the fear running wild, but I am worried other powers might too."
She quirks her head at him, clearly confused. "One to a customer, right? Fear is already having a riot, right?"
"Way to put it, squirt," he huffs. Then, he rolls back all the prickly and relaxes. She is trying, and Azrael and Lopez are the only two beings in existence who care enough to even try. "Sorry, I...no, I was worried about the Demiurge stuff."
"But I figured that didn't work since, you know, Lu's the Devil. Can either of you even do a package deal thing if one of you is super not allowed in the Silver City forever and the other is uh...on probation?"
"That's how I phrase it," he admits. "I dunno, but I do worry that I...that if one of my powers is going crackers that the other one, maybe it will too. I don't know."
She hugs him again, but she doesn't pull away this time. Michael laughs ruefully as Azrael even strokes his hair and mutters to herself about how tangled it gets. "It's pretty, Michael, but you so need to remember how to take care of long hair again."
He chuckles. "That all fell out of fashion some time during the Renaissance, but I...yeah...still working on those stupid hair ties. They're complicated."
She nods and stands, unfurling her mottled but perfectly healthy wings. The coloring was never his favorite, but they're divine and glorious, the same way that wings are supposed to be. Big props to them for actually existing too.
"I'll look around the archives, see what I can get from Death or others...I...just take care of her."
Michael nods. "Sis, there is nothing on any plane that could keep me from doing that."
Azrael studies him one last time, and she's about to say something when, for once, she thinks better of it and disappears away with a flap.
He returns to the room with more soda and some chocolate. However, he's half convinced the candy bar is years old and possibly dusty by now, but he's not sure. He thought sweets and caffeine might help Lopez. He's not sure how best to comfort her for now, but he desperately wants to.
When he gets back, he finds her with her hair up in that towel twisty thing she's so good at and he should probably learn because, yeah, his sister is right and his hair is a rat's nest more often than not currently. But Lopez is sitting there in pajamas and her hair curled up in a towel. She's hugging a pillow to her chest and gazing half-heartedly at some Cartoon Network crap that Michael has no hope of placing. Nor does he care to.
He sits next to her, doesn't even ask, and lets her curl up under his good arm. "I brought offerings, Scrappy. Not sure the Snickers is still good, but I chocolate fixes everything, right?"
"Rae Rae was never a ghost."
"No, but sis might be one of my dumber siblings. Not really, but definitely second most impulsive. I am sure you could guess the first most impulsive sibling I have, but he's not technically an angel anymore."
Lopez sniffles. "Satan, impulsive. Yeah, makes sense. I mean that's how Lucifer down at my old station always played it." She sighs. "I always felt a little bad for him. I think he did the whole act super great, really committed to the method, but he couldn't even get the part on Diablo and that other guy sucked!"
Michael snickers a little. He has caught more than a few eps of that, mostly because the devil there is an arrogant idiot. Sam might have blurted things to the producers or whatever, but the actual show doesn't actually make him look like anything else but a buffoon. It's why he enjoys it.
"Yeah, but I...I think she meant well. You're not special because you're anointed or the next Virgin Mary, Lopez. You're just so nice, like one of the best humans either of us have met. I think there's a lot to be said for how kind you truly are. That's all. We both took a shine to you because you're the best your species has to offer because you choose to be, you choose to be that light out there."
She shakes in his grip. "I don't feel like it. Pete said I had darkness like him."
"Yes the 'we're not so different you and I' spiel. I've given that one before a time or two."
Lopez punches him lightly on the shoulder. He rolls with the motion to preserve her hand. "You're not evil, Mikey."
He sighs and resists the dumbass urge to kiss the top of her head. They're barely friends at this point, and he doesn't really want more. He just wants to be himself, and to have all these confusing feelings go away. And yet, if he still felt like his old self, he'd find even Lopez human filth beneath him. He doesn't want to go back to thinking like that either. He just can't hope for anything. She wouldn't even like him if there weren't a million reasons why they would never fit.
"You haven't heard the ins and outs of my epic tantrum. Still, Pete was wrong. You've got two angels vouching for you, Scraps. I...Sis messed a lot up, but I'm still glad she could protect you most when you needed it. I'm serious. Most of this plane is shit, but it's a way more interesting place with you in it."
She shakes her head. "Mike!"
"It's true! Overpriced everything, traffic, and douchebags looking to roofie most girls in a frat house. It's crap. Dad shouldn't have taken Day 7 off, you know?"
"Wow, dude."
"Truth is truth, Lopez. I...you're going to be okay."
"Maybe, but I just...my head keeps spinning. Two angels glommed on to me. I...is there something different about me?"
"Besides not being an asshole? Not that I know of. You're beautiful." He gulps, realizing that nugget tripped off his tongue without him meaning to. "I mean...uh...you know what I mean."
"Do I?" she asks.
"Yeah, I mean, we're two smoking chicks out there to draw in our victims who have it coming. You know you definitely get the guys to come over, more flies with honey and all that crap," he adds, floundering to try and cover his slip.
Lopez laughs genuinely and looks up at him with earnest appraisal. "You are pretty, you know. I...I know that it's what's on the inside that counts-"
"Then I'm well and truly fucked, Scrappy."
"Michael!"
"See, told you."
"Anyway, not to be shallow, but so you have a scar on your face and a bad shoulder. You're still really pretty, Michael. I know you don't want to be, and maybe one day your dad won't be mad at you and you'll get better."
"Maybe," he replies quietly, trying to encourage her rather than state the obvious that he was quite literally cosmically screwed. "I just...thank you. I can't see it myself, but I...that's sweet." He grimaces a little but doesn't loosen his grip on her. "Next time we slumber party, you can do my make up."
"Can I?"
"Fuck no, although obviously you'll have to do it when it's time for me to scam some big old high roller. For buckets of cash I'll endure it."
She giggles. "Yes, truly, the trials of the damned to put on mascara."
"At least you admit it," he says, glad to hear her laugh. "You're kind, Lopez, and our family never was. It's not some great mystery, and you don't have to worry about secretly being scheduled for sainthood. Azrael and I...we didn't get a lot of kindness from Mother or Father and the Host can be so fucking competitive and catty. Being responsible for ferrying the dead or a master of fear doesn't exactly make the others with better, cooler powers like you. It is what it is." He squeezes her tightly. "You've got a huge heart. Big enough to talk to scarred girls at bars and try and find them shelters they don't actually need. I...you're amazing, Ella."
He worries for a beat that he's come on too strong, that he doesn't sound like a concerned mostly friend.
Lopez nods and burrows into his good side. "I wish she'd just told me what she was. I would have sounded as crazy even to an uber Catholic family talking about seeing an angel, probably still would have been sent to so much therapy and meds-"
"I'm sorry. I know that Rae Rae must be too."
"Yeah, I just...she lied, and it ruined so much. I hate it. Pete lied and that was a fucking nightmare. She lied and my family never saw me the same again." She looks up at him with those wide, brown eyes, and she could ask him to return to L.A. this instant and hug Samael and he might just do it to keep her happy. Probably. "I'm glad I can trust you. Everything else is nuts right now, totally loco, but I have St. Michael on my side, and that's...it keeps me sane, Mike."
"No one has said that about me in a real long time," he admits.
"Just between you and me, we're always gonna keep it honest, right? We're in this whole thing together. I work on my Pete issues."
"Yes, frat predators all over beware." His delivery is dry as he speaks, but he gives her a sly wink all the same.
"Damn straight." She sits up, and he loathes the loss of contact.
But Hallmark moment over, and they're friends and not usually the cuddle on a barely full bed type. Michael stands, grousing at the way his right side doesn't want to cooperate this late at night but slumping over to his own bed. When he looks back to Lopez, he's reminded of why she and Azrael hit it off so easily. Both somehow, even now, are so naive; both have huge hearts that drive them. He can tell from the pity again in her gaze.
He shrugs. "Bum side, risk of being a used up general."
"You're not used up. You're...you're on a second act."
He snorts. "Hell of an act it is. I...get good rest, Scrappy. You're gonna train a little before we give Pete the once over back in the City of Angels. I wanna see all you got."
She nods eagerly, so hard her towel slides off her head; a riot of wet tendrils fall down in her eyes then. "Awesome. Mike?"
"Yeah?" he asks, curling up under his blankets.
"I really need something stable."
"That what we're calling our Thelma and Louise act?"
She arches an eyebrow at him. "That one you know?"
"I can Google, and it comes on TNT a lot which all hotel cable has, even this shit hole. Anyway, point before I never sleep, Scraps?"
"I just...please just stay honest with me. I can't take another shock like Rae Rae actually being the angel of death or Pete being an utter psycho."
"Well, chica, pretty sure I'm not a psycho. Also, being the angel of death as hard as it is, is light years better than being the angel of fear, trust me."
"Yeah, I...promise though?"
He sighs, knowing that he's already following Sam's playbook and leaving so much out. That full transparency is something they've never had. But he just can't. Because for the first time, no one is comparing him to Samael, and he's not in his twin's very long and considerable shadow. Michael can't give that up because the other way around, he's always the one lacking. He grimaces to himself. Now lacking more than ever, actually.
But he offers her his best smile and fakes a yawn. "I'll always tell you as much as I always have, Scraps. Now get some rest. Before we kick Pete's ass, I'm going to be kicking yours."