"Look. I'm not saying angels are dicks. I'm just saying… okay, yeah, I'm saying angels are dicks. What were you thinking, with Zachariah?" Laughter followed Adam's words from both ends. Michael was practically doubled over, gasping for breath, while the human just grinned. This was back before Adam's Transformation, before Michael's insanity. When they all still held on to the hope that they could get out. Lucifer, in front of them, just smiled dryly and rolled his eyes. "Seriously Michael, that guy sucked ass. He couldn't even do his job right!" Adam exclaimed.
"I have to agree with Adam here, yeah." Lucifer rubbed a hand over his mouth, and Michael looked up at his younger brother, the grin on their face widening even further as the Devil just shrugged. "Zachariah was a douchebag. A useless douchebag."
"I know," Michael wheezed, and started laughing again when Adam actually snorted. "Hey, come on! I didn't have many options in Heaven!" The archangel objected, straightening up. "Castiel rebelled, Raphael, like… Man I don't even know what's up with Raphael anymore. You know I hardly see him in Heaven anymore?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow at that, curious.
Adam snickered. "That's because you got dicks like Zachariah stealing the good angels' jobs." At this, Michael started laughing again, as did Adam. "I'm serious."
"Yeah, you sound like it," Michael teased, a grin on his face now as he slumped back against the bars of the Cage, another rush of laughter bubbling from Adam's lips. "Man, we don't even need Zachariah up there anyway. And, honestly, I've been running Heaven fine without Raphael," the archangel boasted proudly. "Who needs 'em? I'm a good enough ruler." Adam and Lucifer both burst into laughter then, and Michael blinked, offended. "Hey! Heaven would have crumbled to ashes if it weren't for me."
"Hate to tell you, bro," Lucifer chuckled, "but Heaven's already crumbled."
"See, that's true," Adam cut in. "But it's Zachariah's fault."
Lucifer burst out laughing again, grabbing onto the bars behind him as much as he could to keep himself steady. "This seems personal now," Michael commented, amused, watching his brother curiously before turning his attention back to Adam. "What do you have against him?"
"Hey, if it looks like a dick and quacks like a dick…" Adam spread their arms out, grinning ear to ear as Lucifer doubled over again. "Then it's gotta be a fucking dick. Zachariah's a dick!"
All three of them started laughing again at that.
"Well, look at that - sounds like the three of you had a grand ol' time in the Cage."
Michael didn't turn, just blinked, staring ahead almost blankly. The memory twisted and faded into the darkness the second his mind turned in Dean's direction, though he struggled to hold onto it before it could completely disappear. It was odd, seeing him and Adam from a different perspective. Even weirder seeing them and Lucifer - it was fuzzy, uncertain, nothing close to being as clear as it was when he and Adam were sharing a vessel, when they were sharing souls. It was something the archangel thought he'd never have to experience. And now that he was, he almost couldn't remember what it was like feeling whole again.
He looked down, rubbing his arms slightly before turning, hesitantly, to face Dean. The hunter had his head turned, looking around the darkness somewhat warily, as if he expected something to pop out at him - Michael couldn't blame him. They were both already on edge - and Dean more so than the archangel, and for good reasons, for sure. He didn't move much, simply wrapped his arms around himself a little tighter and looked down. "Wasn't all bad."
Dean glanced over at him, silent for a second, then shrugged and looked away again. He continued glancing around for a good few moments, just taking in everything in - and he seemed to deem the place somewhat secure, because he relaxed, shoulders dropping, and turned his full attention back to Michael, chin raising, eyes narrowed. Not quite hostile, more inquisitive; Michael paused and tilted his head toward the hunter, wondering if he had a question or something, and ready to answer as honestly as possible. A part of him recognized that he could always just read the hunter's thoughts - but he didn't want to do that.
"I still don't understand you…" Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his mouth and glancing over at the archangel. Michael furrowed his eyebrows slightly, silent and understanding, yet confused at the same time. "I mean, I can see it, and I can feel it for myself - but it is still just so damn hard to grasp the fact that you… actually…" He shook his head a little, almost in disbelief.
"Care?" Michael finished quietly, and Dean didn't answer, but the expression on his face was enough of a confirmation. The archangel looked away, eyes flickering around the darkness. Honestly, he wished he had an answer to that. He wished he could explain why he cared - and beyond that, he wished he could explain it in a way that could make Dean understand. After everything the hunter went through, Michael didn't expect trust. Hell, he hadn't expected the level of trust he'd been given, when Dean had let him in, in the first place. He didn't expect it, and he wasn't going to ask for it unfairly. To be honest? Dean deserved to hate him.
"Jeez, you're worse than me," Dean mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. Michael stared at him, confused at first - but then he understood. Yes, he could feel it; The self-loathing that swirled around inside of the hunter, the anger and the pain and the absolute hatred that he held only for himself. But he not only felt it; He understood it. Down to every second-guessing, idle comment in the back of his mind. Down to every hesitant step forward, and down to every immediate hundred steps backwards. Down to every moment he stood, awake, alert, eyes wide open, his mind spinning and swirling with the thoughts he despised. With the reminders of how horrible he was and how much worse he could be, how much worse he was going to be.
Michael understood what it was like to hate himself, for sure.
But at the same time? The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. And he can hate himself, he did hate himself, down to every last core of his being. But it seemed like Dean had already gotten past that stage; And he'd moved straight on to just not caring. There were no more voices in his head, there was no more second-guessing his own steps and sitting up at night thinking about how horrible he was, because he didn't care enough about himself to do that anymore. He didn't care enough about himself to hate himself. He was just… done with himself.
The hunter said nothing, but the way his mouth twisted, the way his chin lowered, head ducking, almost in a nod - and yet, not quite - was enough confirmation for the both of them. Michael just stared at him, confused and scared, wondering how long it would be until he gave up on himself as well, and what would become of him when he did. Because the moment he stopped caring enough about himself to stop caring about what he was, and what he could become, that was the moment the insanity would come back to rip him apart limb from limb. And it was so close now. Without Adam, it was so damn close, and Michael knew it. He knew how easy it would be to let himself go, to retreat into the insanity, to the hatred, to let it numb him, without the demon.
But he didn't want that.
Dean shifted a little on his feet, silent, calm, controlled. Internally, though, he was hesitant. Confused. He wanted to say something - but what was there to say? He had no advice for the archangel. He had turned out worse, himself, so what could he possibly say to Michael now? Neither of them knew what to say, not until the darkness rattled, and a distinct voice broke through - a familiar one, to both. It was Castiel, and Dean reacted quicker than ever, as if he'd been waiting for it.; In an instant, he disappeared, taking control back immediately.
After a moment, Michael rose up along with him to watch, careful not to take any control - and noting they were back in the main room, leaning against one of the tables. The second he rose up along with Dean, though, he watched Castiel's steps slow, and falter, and then he froze, staring at Dean through wide blue eyes. And in the next instant, there was a blade in his hand, and he was approaching again - but this time, guarded, cautious, wary and mean.
"Whoa, there," Dean sounded bewildered, drawing back a few steps and nearly stumbling over his feet in his haste to get away - and a small part of Michael noted how he backed away from Castiel and yet, when it was Michael, or Adam, approaching, he couldn't seem to care less. "Cas, what the hell?"
"Get out of him," Castiel growled, and Michael stiffened. Oh, god, that hurt. There was nothing but distrust blazing in his brother's eyes now, nothing even remotely close to the warmth and understanding that Michael had seen before. There was no room for trust in those cold eyes, no room for warmth - not even a chance. The archangel faltered, the pain exploding in his chest, and in response, Dean grunted, grimaced, and took another half-stumbling step back.
"Cas, it's me," Dean insisted, teeth clenched, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Castiel continued forward, and with each step that he took, the hunter backed away. Michael didn't know what to do, or what to say - but he knew he had to get Dean out of this situation fast. He wasn't sure what lengths Castiel would go to here, but he knew that blade would only be hurting one of them, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Michael. The archangel hesitantly rose up to take control along with Dean, careful not to shove him down. The hunter fought a little at first, as if that had been what he was expecting - but then he stopped, realizing Michael wasn't trying to keep him down, and was simply… sharing control with him, as he did with Adam.
"Castiel, let me explain- please-" Michael begged, as Dean continued backing them away, eyeing the blade in Castiel's hand warily. Castiel's eyes sharpened, darkening with rage. "I- I understand you- you have every right to be wary but I swear, I'm not going to do anything." He held up his hands, meant to be a placating gesture, but if anything it just made Castiel stiffen.
"Cas, seriously," Dean was talking now, and right then he just sounded pissed off. That gave Castiel paused, the angel staring at them in a mixture of confusion and wariness. "Just calm down, dammit. Let us explain before you go stabbing me through the chest, alright? Not like that'd work on an archangel anyway, so just." The hunter extended a hand, palm-up toward Castiel, looking down at the blade before raising his gaze back to Castiel's face. "Just stop."
The angel stared at them, eyes narrowed. But, slowly, he stopped, and stepped back, lowering the blade. He didn't put it away, though, simply dropped his hands to his sides and brought the blade around, pressing it into the inside of his arm and giving them nothing more than a cold nod. "Explain," he growled, glaring, still not quite believing Dean was in control. That still hurt.
"There we go. Nice and easy," Dean sighed, dropping his hands as well. The movement made Castiel tense again, but he didn't move forward, just stood still and stared at him. Michael retreated a little, struggling to remind himself that they had every right to be angry and wary after what the other him did, but he couldn't stifle the pain flickering through his chest. Dean only sighed and took in a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak - and Sam chose that moment to walk back into the room, phone in hand, mouth open, only to pause at the sight in front of him. The hunter's eyes darted to Dean, and then to Castiel, and then to the blade and a sparkle of understanding lit his gaze. "Hey, Sammy," Dean greeted dryly.
"Everything okay in here?" Sam questioned, and paused, turning back to the phone. "Yeah, Crowley, I'm hanging up now. Tell Rowena- … okay, wow, bye, then…" The hunter pulled the phone away from his ear, muttering something that sounded like 'rude' - Michael guessed that the demon had hung up on him - before he turned back to Dean and Castiel, eyebrows raising.
"No," Castiel grumbled, looking back toward Dean for a moment. "Michael is possessing Dean."
"I know," Sam responded easily enough, and Castiel's eyes widened slightly, throwing the hunter a bewildered glance. Dean just sent a smug look his way, then leaned back and rubbed his hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a soft, silent sigh. Sam stuffed his phone into his pocket, walking forward with a small, sympathetic smile on his face. "It's okay. Look, Dean's fine - it's just temporary, I think, until we get Adam back?" He checked, looking at his brother, and Dean nodded faintly in response - while Michael flinched slightly at the mention of Adam, silently kicking himself for even getting slightly distracted from that.
"And speaking of Adam, don't we have- I don't know, a little bigger fish to fry?" Dean snapped after a few seconds, sucking in a breath through his teeth - Michael winced, realizing he was feeling the archangel's pain head on, and struggled to reign himself back in enough to where the oldest Winchester wouldn't have to deal with that. Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, and Castiel visibly hesitated, watching them - before finally relaxing, slowly tucking the blade back into his sleeve and giving them nothing more than a short, curt nod. "Great. Thanks."
"You did mention Adam was in trouble," the angel relented begrudgingly, his blue eyes searching Dean's, a clear question in his gaze. And Dean must have answered, because Castiel abruptly relaxed, a look of realization flitting across his face, mingling with relief, before it vanished into the seriousness it had been before. "What happened?"
Dean looked over at Sam, who exchanged the look with him silently. Finally, when the oldest Winchester just shrugged, the younger looked back over at Castiel and crossed his arms over his chest, a look of slight resignation settling across his face. "Chuck has him."
Castiel recoiled as if he'd been struck.
Jack's face flitted through Dean's mind for a second, and Michael couldn't keep his thoughts from jumping back to his brother in time. And, in response, every muscle in Dean's body seemed to tense up, wide eyes dropping from Castiel and Sam and instead focusing on the floor. But not a word was spoken from the hunter's end, though, hardly any thoughts, even. He was just silent, tense, the realization pounding in his chest. But he didn't look up, or say a word, until Castiel and Sam began speaking again; The angel had moved forward, eyes blazing.
"What do you mean, Chuck has him? Chuck's back?" Castiel practically snarled the word out, and Michael flinched a little bit at the amount of hatred, the rage that radiated from the angel. Dean slowly lifted his head again, but he didn't seem particularly focused on the conversation anymore. Michael didn't know what to say to him - he didn't know what to do about his little slip up. He had hoped maybe the hunter hadn't noticed, but that didn't seem to be the case.
But he wasn't saying anything. Why wasn't he saying anything?
Dean shifted a little on his feet, still tense, fingers flexing, shoulders twitching - but he was silent.
"Yeah. Apparently." Sam lifted a hand, gesturing slightly, but even he looked a little helpless as to how to explain - of course, he didn't know the story. Dean opened and closed his mouth, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. There was hesitance, there was uncertainty, and confusion, and disbelief - but there was no anger. Michael had realized that, too. No anger followed the hunter's revelation, no fury from the archangel's slip-up, and that did leave him to believe maybe Dean hadn't put the pieces together - but still, his reaction didn't make sense. "It seems like he might be holding Adam as bait - leverage, maybe."
A distinct, thundering growl began to rumble in Castiel's throat, but he didn't seem furious over the fact that Chuck had Adam. He just seemed pissed that Chuck was back. Not that Michael could blame him much. "That…" The angel couldn't even finish his sentence, far too outraged. Sam gestured again, dropping his arms back to his sides with a short sigh, and Dean finally raised his head and spoke up, each word sounding like it was stuck in his throat, forced out.
"He's got him in his old house." The hunter twisted his mouth a bit, head raising, and stepped back with a slight huff. Sam turned to watch him, and frowned a little, seeming alarmed by whatever expression was written across his brother's face. But Castiel was silent, eyes fixed on the floor, nothing but rage glittering through his pale blue eyes. "You told Rowena, right?" Dean directed the question to Sam, who simply stared at him, eyes narrowed faintly.
"Yeah. Well- I told Crowley, he told Rowena." The younger Winchester turned toward his brother completely, and Castiel finally looked up. His own expression shifted, rage dissolving into concern the second he fixed his eyes on Dean, and Michael got the distinct impression that the oldest Winchester wasn't looking so hot right then. "She's gonna see if there's anything in the Book she might be able to use… well, against God." Sam almost huffed out a laugh at that, as if the situation was funny, and Michael couldn't help but snort a little himself. Because if there was anything that was going to take his Father down, it wasn't going to be in a book that any humans could decipher. He almost shook his head at the thought.
"Great." Dean licked his lips and looked toward Castiel, then looked away again. Michael noted that almost absently - he couldn't seem to look either Sam or Castiel in the eyes right then. He was backing away from them now, too, toward the doorway, distancing himself to leave. Sam took a half-step after him, but otherwise remained completely casual, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted, eyebrows raised toward his brother. Dean didn't look back at him.
"Where are you going?" Castiel stared at Dean, concern evident in his expression now, the rage not having quite been stifled - but for the moment, simply shoved straight to the backburner. The hunter looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
"To get some shit together, Cas. We're about to go confront God," Dean emphasized, and Sam raised an eyebrow at that, understanding, while Castiel just narrowed his eyes slightly, suspicious. Whether because of Dean, or because of Michael, the archangel didn't know.
"Think we should bring the Equalizer?" Sam asked suddenly, eyes flickering to his brother, and Dean visibly paused at that. Almost unconsciously, his gaze drifted toward the hunter's shoulder - his left shoulder, much more specifically, and Michael couldn't help but think back to Chuck. The way his Father had doubled over the second he and Adam had touched his shoulder, as if in pain. Michael frowned a bit, but he didn't say a word. As for Dean, he hesitated - but that new information seemed to spark up somewhat of a realization, yet another revelation, an epiphany that he wasn't quite ready to touch up on right then. "Just in case," Sam added.
Dean shrugged a little, seeming to realize he'd been a little too silent. "Yeah, just in case," he responded vaguely, somewhat dismissively, before finally turning to leave the room. Sam started to say something, mouth opening, but he stopped when he realized his brother wasn't listening, anyway. Castiel shuffled a few steps forward, but Michael saw Sam extend an arm to stop him before Dean had completely turned around; And then the hunter was simply leaving the room, not looking back at the other two, and Michael slowly sank back once again, nervous. Waiting for the inevitable.
Dean didn't say a word to him.
The hunter walked into his room, leaving the door open. He grabbed his jacket, his keys, took a look around the room for anything he might be missing, and Michael held his breath the whole time, because it had to be coming. With what Dean knew now, with all that Michael had let slip, there had to be something he had to say. Some kind of wariness, even, anything.
No, Dean didn't say a word. It wasn't his voice that echoed through Michael's head, when the silence was finally broken. It wasn't his voice that startled the archangel, made him gasp.
I'm coming, halo.
It was Adam.
Michael rushed for it at once, letting the demon's voice surround him, and aching to respond back - but he knew he couldn't. It was a prayer; Short and simple, and Adam probably didn't even realize what he was doing now, didn't even realize Michael could hear him, because nothing else followed. That was it. But Michael held onto it as tight as he could, desperate for it, even, chest aching, throat constricting, pain exploding through him, rushing over him like tidal waves. He ached, every part of him ached with fear, and yet the relief was overwhelming.
Adam was alive, he really was alive, and he was okay. Michael didn't understand those words - the I'm coming - but that wasn't his focus right now. Adam was alive.
The relief was steady on Dean's end, too. Nodding to himself, as if something had been confirmed, as if yet another realization had struck, he shrugged his jacket on, pocketed his keys, slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave the room. Yes, the hunter was relieved…
But it didn't seem to be for the same reason.