Michael paced back and forth in the darkness, head raised, eyes closed, arms wrapped around himself as tight as possible. His thoughts whirled, despite his best efforts to push them down, to focus on something beyond himself. He was struggling to reach the connection with Adam, actually, as well as replaying those three words in his head, the one thing he had left to hold onto - I'm coming, halo. Admittedly enough, it hadn't made much sense at first; What did that mean? He was coming? Michael couldn't understand, because, of course, Chuck still had the demon, didn't he? But Adam wouldn't say he was coming unless he really was coming, and Michael knew this for a fact. He wouldn't just be thinking that if he was still stuck.
So, even if he didn't quite understand, a small part of him was holding onto the hope that maybe Adam was free, and safe, and… well, possibly on his way to them. Which, actually, was an odd thought, considering they were about to march straight to his Father, into the apparent 'trap' that had been set. Michael didn't really like it, but he knew what needed to be done. Just in case he was wrong, they had to keep going. If Adam was there, they'd save him. If not, they'd find him. In all honesty, the archangel was terrified to hope for too much.
Adam's freedom, and being able to rescue him… he was desperate for that, to have the demon back, but he knew he had to keep a level head here. Adam was always the straight and narrow, the logical thinker, his decisions never swayed by hope, or fear. So it was definitely harder on the archangel, trying to figure out how Adam would react in this situation, what Adam would do. And, at the same time, it was all too easy; He knew the demon better than he knew himself, and, undoubtedly, Adam would continue on. No hope, no 'what if's', just facts. As much as Michael was hoping the demon was away from Chuck, and safe - he couldn't go solely on hope, and he couldn't run completely on the belief that what he'd heard was really… Adam at all. For all he knew, it was his own mind playing tricks on him, the insanity closing in again.
The archangel sighed, screwing his eyes shut for a moment and struggling to focus. There were so many different emotions, hard to identify - but there were a select few that, most definitely, felt like Adam. Irritation, for one, that was certainly familiar. But also a deep-lingering confusion, and fear…? Anxiety, something close to it. But, pulsing beneath all of that, was determination. Michael furrowed his eyebrows, silent, letting that linger for a moment. It brought a smile to his face despite himself, though - of course, Adam was the strong one.
That gave Michael a little bit of determination, himself, though.
Michael blinked his eyes open and looked up into the darkness for a moment, then let out a low sigh through his teeth and brought himself up alongside Dean again. He was careful not to get in the hunter's way too much; He knew how on edge he already was, and he didn't want to make him even more nervous, especially while he was driving. To his credit, though, Dean didn't startle for a second when the archangel rose up to control with him, and simply continued speaking to Sam, who was in the passenger seat, and Castiel, who was in the back. "-and that's when Adam apparently expelled Michael, and Chuck took Adam as bait I guess 'cause, y'know, he's an asshole." Michael snorted at that, and Dean's lips twitched slightly.
Sam sighed a little bit, rubbing his hand down his face and looking out the window. He seemed particularly upset, Michael noted that, as Dean spared a glance toward his brother before he focused back on the road again. Of course he was upset, though, his brother had been captured by God. Michael wasn't doing so hot either, but that was just a given. Sure, the demon may be Sam's brother, but to Michael, he was so much more than just that. So much more than just family. He was everything Michael was, and everything he wanted to be. He was his other half. His better half, even. No, the archangel wasn't doing so well. Then again, considering… well, how easy it would be to break his mentality completely, he was doing pretty alright…
Jeez, he just wanted Adam back.
"We're going," Dean muttered, and Sam's head turned in his direction at once, but the hunter didn't look away from the road this time. Michael just offered a soft hum of acknowledgement in response, releasing the little bit of control he had, but staying in front to watch. After a moment, Sam seemed to realize that Dean hadn't been talking to them, because he looked away again.
They were all silent for a while, and so, Michael allowed his thoughts to turn back in Adam's direction, focusing on the emotions lingering below the surface, definitely not at all his own. For a moment, he had to wonder if maybe they were a figment of his own insanity, as well, but they couldn't be, right? They felt so real, and they felt so much like Adam, and… even if they weren't, he just needed something to hold onto. Something at least close to what the demon was. This was that, at least for the time being… and, for the time being, it felt like he was still there. And it put his anxieties, his worries, to rest; Because if he could feel Adam there, then he had to be alive, and he had to be okay, and he had to be safe, and Michael could only pray that he was.
"Sam," Dean's voice startled the archangel out of his thoughts, and Michael paused to listen. "Get some rest, you look beat." As the hunter looked over at his brother, the archangel realized, yes, Dean was certainly right - Sam wasn't looking too hot. His eyes kept closing as he blinked, as if forgetting how to open them again, but he kept forcing himself awake when he seemed to realize he was drifting. "We've still got a while to go."
Sam gave him a doubtful look, hazel eyes flickering as he searched his brother's gaze. Michael frowned a bit, thinking. It was that look again, like he wanted to say something, but he just couldn't - and, finally, heaving out a soft sigh, the younger Winchester looked away again, glancing out the window before looking back at his brother. "You sure?"
"Rest, Sammy," Dean insisted, an amused smile twitching at his lips now. Sam looked over at him again, clearly still reluctant, but after a few moments, he gave in and sank back into the seat, leaning his head back and letting his eyes drift shut. And, satisfied, Dean returned his gaze to the road, and Michael relaxed once again, watching quietly as the hunter took a turn. After a while, he retreated back into the darkness, though he stayed in front a bit so he could still hear. Settling down, he wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes.
"So, Cas," he heard Dean speak up after a while, and cracked his eyes open a bit, blinking. "How are you doing, huh?" The question confused Michael at first - until he remembered Castiel's earlier reaction to finding out Chuck hadn't left the universe after all. Admittedly, he felt extremely guilty about keeping such information from them, especially considering how important it was. He still couldn't get over his initial anxiety, worrying about whether or not it was smart for them to just rush right up to Chuck themselves - since, after all, this was Michael's fight. And yet, at the same time, maybe it wasn't - thinking back to Jack.
Once again, his thoughts moved toward Lucifer, and he struggled to push them down again. If Dean noticed this time, he didn't show it, simply kept his attention fixated completely on Castiel as the angel responded. "Fine." His brother paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate, before he caved. "... I don't know, honestly. It…" Castiel trailed off for a few seconds. "... It was supposed to be over. Chuck was supposed to be gone."
"I know," Dean muttered, a mixture of sympathetic and frustrated. "Believe me, I know. I thought… I don't know, that we could just- move on. But-" The hunter suddenly laughed a little, though the sound seemed to catch in his throat slightly, sounding more forced than anything. "When are things ever that easy with us, huh?"
"Never," Castiel agreed, though his tone was a little bit lighter now, equally sympathetic - but the tension had been broken for the most part, whatever was left of it, anyway. Michael furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his legs, listening quietly. "Still, it was nice to think… to hope that…" His brother trailed off again, but this time the pause was longer; Michael bit his lip, concerned. He hated how much Castiel was struggling. "... Well, anyway. How are you doing, Dean?"
"Could be better," Dean replied easily enough. "Could be worse." For a second, it seemed like maybe they were still referring to Chuck - but Michael realized quickly enough that the topic had shifted, sudden and unspoken, and both of them seemed to realize just as fast. "Really, I'm… I'm okay. It's really not that bad." After a moment's hesitation, he added, "still freaky, but."
"Of course." Castiel went silent for a few seconds, as if trying to think of what to say next, or how to phrase what he wanted to say. Michael closed his eyes again. "I have to admit, I'm still a little shocked that you… well, that you said yes, after everything that had happened with…" He didn't finish that sentence, and both the archangel and the hunter understood why. "It's still just a little hard to believe that you're completely okay with it, considering."
Dean exhaled slowly through his teeth as he replied. "It's not like I'm one-hundred percent okay with it, Cas. Like I said, I'm freaked. Still kind of expecting the worst. But at the same time, it's like- this is different. Like he's different, you know? And I can feel it. All he cares about is Adam." Damn, if that wasn't the truth. And now Michael was thinking of the demon again. The archangel sighed, pressing his eyes shut a little tighter and turning his thoughts back in Adam's direction. The anxiety had strengthened somehow… that worried him. A lot.
"And he truly plans to leave once we've rescued Adam?" Castiel was asking, and Michael reluctantly tore his attention back to the conversation, but he kept a part of himself focused on the connection between him and Adam. He really had to figure that out - and see if there was any way to strengthen it. On the off-chance that Adam really had gotten away, and was out there somewhere, he'd have to be able to find the demon somehow, because he doubted Adam even knew his way back to the bunker in the first place - the thought of him wandering out there on his own hurt almost as much as thinking of him being held hostage by his Father. Neither of them were particularly favorable situations.
Then again, no situation in which they were separated could be considered favorable.
"Trust me," Dean actually chuckled a little bit, for some reason. "That's literally all he can think about right now. And I'm in the guy's head. Well- technically, he's in mine, but. You get it." Michael had to bite back a snort at that, then he frowned. Well, he'd like to see how Dean did, being separated from Sam for this long… okay, yeah, it wasn't the same situation. The Winchesters were closer than most brothers, for sure, but Adam and Michael literally couldn't have been any closer than they were before. Seriously.
"Good." Castiel sighed, soft and satisfied. Michael blinked his eyes open, looking up into the darkness for a moment. He thought back to their conversations, how Castiel had seemed to trust him - or how he was starting to, anyway. He couldn't help but agonize over how quickly that had shifted, the second his brother had realized he was possessing Dean. Like the towers were already beginning to crumble, like they were made of glass, so easily shattered at any wrong move. And he had to wonder how he could even begin to fix that, after what the other him had done - was it even possible to mend something so broken beyond his own comprehension?
"You should get some rest, too," Dean murmured after a few moments, sounding somewhat distracted now. Michael paused for a second, but he stopped himself before he could dig deep enough to see what was on the hunter's mind; He didn't want to invade his privacy, after all.
"No, I'm alright," Castiel responded quickly, and Dean sighed a little, but he didn't press the subject further. Michael closed his eyes and leaned his head back for a moment, then promptly let himself fall backwards, the darkness surrounding him completely. It was almost peaceful, to be completely honest. He let Castiel and Dean fade into the background, and brought his focus back to the connection between him and Adam. The emotions were pulsing even stronger now, and they only got stronger the more he focused, the more he pushed.
He laid there for a while, just trying to strengthen the connection. Struggling, holding onto the emotions he was praying were Adam's - hell, he was sure they were his, they had to be, they felt so much like him. He ached to hear his voice again, or to see through his eyes again, but there was only darkness. He blinked his eyes open, staring up into it, surrounded by it - so much of it he could practically drown in it. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
Michael only retreated from the darkness when Dean called him back to the front; Somewhat reluctantly so, he rose up along with the oldest Winchester, careful not to take too much control. As the hunter turned his head, looking around, he could see why Dean had called him; They had parked on the side of a road, one that looked very… abandoned, lifeless. Dead. It was dark out, and every light in every house was out - except for one, one they were parked just in front of, on the opposite side of the road. Dean's eyes narrowed as he stared at it, pushing the door open to get out - he was in the back, and Castiel was driving. Sam was awake now, already outside the car and fondling a gun, mouth twisted and set into a deep frown.
He looked over as Dean got out, and as the older hunter reached a hand out for the gun. Sam only spared a brief glance downwards before shaking his head, stepping back, and turning back to the house. Dean's eyes narrowed even further at that. "Sam, give me the gun."
"Dean-"
"Sam," Castiel interrupted the hunters - and Michael couldn't thank him enough - as he got out of the car, walking around to stand beside them. "Give it to me." He held out a hand for the gun, himself, and Sam drew back a bit, staring at him in disbelief. And Dean didn't seem to like that idea any more than the younger Winchester did, because he stepped forward, eyes sharpening, glaring at the angel like he had just called him a bastard. Michael blinked, watching.
"Cas, no." Dean sounded pissed off now, his glare flickering between Castiel and his brother as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sam, you saw what that thing did to you the first time." He jerked his chin toward the other hunter's shoulder, and, once again, Michael couldn't help but think back to Chuck's hurt shoulder, too. It couldn't just be a coincidence that they were both hurt on the same shoulder, seemingly in the same spot, from what the archangel could see, could it? It had to be connected somehow, but Michael couldn't figure it out. As for Dean, he seemed to go rigid at the thought, and a low growl rumbled in his throat - a brief gesture that reminded him of Adam, achingly enough - as he stepped forward. "I said give me the gun."
"Yeah, and I said no," Sam retorted, narrowing his eyes at Dean, as if daring him to argue. And Dean, of course, unsurprisingly, seemed ready to take that dare immediately; But Castiel abruptly stepped forward, his attention no longer on the boys, but instead fixated on the house across the street. Confused, Dean drew his attention back to the house, himself, and Sam turned to see what was up, as well. Michael only stared, not understanding what Castiel was staring at until a figure passed by the window, followed by another. A very. Very familiar figure.
Castiel dropped the blade from his sleeve again, catching it by the handle, and started toward the house with a look of absolute fury in his eyes. The gun forgotten, Dean rushed after him, and Sam wasn't too far behind. Michael was just searching for Adam, desperate to catch a glimpse, but he couldn't see his figure through the window. That being said, though, the one he had seen - it couldn't be him, could it? Why would he be there, anyway?
"Belphegor!" Castiel roared the second he had reached the door, kicking it open - Michael was surprised it didn't fly off its hinges - and the archangel's blood ran cold. Of course, it wasn't Belphegor - no, it was Lucifer - and now that they were in the doorway, he could see what was happening a little bit clearer. Gabriel was there, too, simply standing near the back door with his arms crossed over his chest while Lucifer lifted Chuck up and promptly slammed him down into the coffee table, never once breaking concentration, not even as Castiel stormed toward them.
Before Michael could react, though - and boy, was he ready to react - Dean suddenly extended a hand in front of the angel to stop him, and another in front of Sam when the hunter raised the gun. "Wait," the oldest Winchester insisted, a completely no-nonsense tone to his voice and his eyes cold; It stopped Sam dead, but Castiel just continued to glare, shaking with fury.
Adam wasn't there. Michael didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.
Lucifer finally straightened up and turned, and he paused. Dean's chin raised slightly, as Sam and Castiel suddenly stiffened, going still on both sides of him. Michael held his brother's gaze, wide-eyed with confusion. The Devil stared back at him, almost in disbelief, as if unsure of what he was seeing - then his eyebrows rose, head tilting, and a low "huh" broke through his lips.
Behind him, on the floor, Chuck groaned and rolled over, heaving himself up a bit. In response, Gabriel strode forward, delivering a harsh kick to their Father's ribs and sending him crashing right back down into the floor, among the broken glass from the coffee table, with nothing more than a pained groan as he spat blood out onto the ground, lips curled back over his bloody teeth and his glare fixed on his sons. If looks could kill, they'd be nonexistent.
"You're not…" Castiel's voice was choked now, strangled, an emotion Michael couldn't identify. He was just staring at Lucifer, wide-eyed with confusion, and pain, and fear. "You're not Jack." At this, the Devil's head turned toward the angel, and his mouth twisted, jaw setting. Castiel just continued to stare, pupils shrinking with the realization, and Michael winced. "Or… Belphegor."
"Yeah, no. Sorry." Lucifer paused a little, spreading his arms out a little before dropping them back to his sides. He met Dean's gaze almost desperately, as if expecting to see Michael there instead of the hunter, but the archangel hadn't risen up to take control. The oldest Winchester just stared back at Lucifer, no clear emotion on his face - and, to be honest, no clear emotion flickering in his chest, either. It was odd, being so close with him, but not being able to tell what he was feeling. Somewhat alarming, to be completely honest, considering…
"Oh, they don't know?" Chuck choked out a laugh, blood bubbling to his lips in the process. Dean's gaze flicked back to him, and Michael's chest tightened with a mixture of fury and disgust as he looked down upon his Father, his eyes wild and crazed, a grin tugging at his lips that was bordering on psychotic. "Of course they don't," Chuck flicked his gaze back to Lucifer, who turned his head slightly to look back down at him, eyes narrowed.
"Shut your trap, you bastard." Gabriel kicked Chuck again, this time in the shoulder.
"Wait-" Lucifer hissed, but it was too late; The second Gabriel came into contact with Chuck's shoulder, Sam had doubled over, gasping, the gun slipping from his fingers and thudding to the floor as his hand came up, gripping his shoulder tightly with a low, pained grunt.
"Sam?" Dean turned back to his brother at once, wide-eyed with concern, and Michael finally rose up to take control along with the hunter as Dean reached out, the archangel's hand already glowing as if to heal Sam - or at least try to. Before he could get close enough, though, Lucifer strode forward, knocking his hands out of the way and shoving Dean back, sending the hunter stumbling. Michael stared at his brother, bewildered, while the hunter snarled. "Hey-"
"You can't heal him," Lucifer told them coldly, and Michael stilled, listening to his brother. "You'd just be wasting your powers, Michael." Turning back to Sam, the Devil reached out for the younger hunter. Dean took a few steps forward, but before he could get to his brother, Lucifer had already taken Sam by the wrists and was pulling him toward a chair, forcing him to sit down. Dean took a half-step toward them and froze again, his eyes never leaving Sam, while Michael was struggling to get a glance in at his own brother. Gabriel, meanwhile, had hauled Chuck back to his feet, scowling, and had shoved him back into the couch.
Sam shook his head, pulling his hands away from Lucifer, and stared up at him. There was no anger in his eyes, just wariness, confusion. "Who…" The hunter couldn't seem to spit the word out, swallowing hard and searching the Devil's face carefully. Michael flinched a little bit, and Dean's jaw set slightly, a trickle of emotion finally rising to his chest. Not the one the archangel would have expected, though - no, it was sympathy, understanding, almost.
Castiel realized it before Lucifer could get the word out, though. "Lucifer," the angel whispered, a haunted look flickering across his face. Michael flinched back again, retracting a little bit of his control, as Dean looked over at Castiel. "It's… it's Lucifer."
Sam pulled back even further, face paling, looking absolutely horrified.
Lucifer looked over at Castiel and grimaced slightly, as if he had just spoiled some grand surprise. But his attention was taken back rather quickly, turning away from Sam and instead facing Dean and Michael, blue eyes narrowing slightly, searching the older hunter's gaze. "Michael?" He checked, slow and simple - Dean was the one who nodded, as Michael couldn't bring himself to take enough control to do so, too stunned, too terrified. "Adam's not here." The Devil spared a spiteful look toward Chuck, his fury seeming to intensify even further as he glared at their father. "This bastard won't tell me where he is. He's not in the Empty, but…"
Chuck only grinned, taunting and cold, and Gabriel's fists clenched, but he didn't move an inch. Michael swallowed, his gaze lingering on his Father. It was Dean who spoke up, quiet, simple.
"He's alive," he told Lucifer blankly, and the Devil looked back up at him, eyebrows furrowing. The bluntness seemed to surprise him, before a look of realization flickered across his face, head tilting, eyebrows raising - but he didn't say a word. "We know that much. Kid must have broke himself free." The hunter's lips twitched a little bit for some reason, shaking his head. "Definitely a Winchester, ain't he?" He stepped forward, easing past Lucifer, to approach Sam. The younger hunter was still staring at Lucifer, but as Dean approached, he spared him a half-desperate, half-confused look, as if asking why his brother wasn't doing anything.
Honestly, it broke Michael's heart as much as it broke Dean's.
"Dean." Lucifer sounded slightly appreciative, if not bewildered, as he turned to watch the hunter. His head tilted slightly. Dean turned back to look at him, but returned his gaze back to Sam fast enough, reaching out to pull part of his shirt down to get a look at his left shoulder. "You're the only one here not looking at me like I just ate your baby."
Dean didn't answer him, just pushed Sam's hands away and tugged his shirt down. Michael couldn't help but gasp when he caught a glimpse of the wound, eyes widening slightly. He didn't know much about humans and how they scarred, but he had a feeling a gunshot wound wasn't supposed to be black. Dean just grimaced and released Sam, letting his younger brother fix his shirt and turning back to the others, spinning the blade around in his hand. Lucifer was still staring at him, curious and confused, and Michael met his brother's gaze somewhat hesitantly.
"Get out of him…" Castiel suddenly breathed. Lucifer looked over at him, an odd look flitting across his face, but he didn't say a word. Just grimaced, eyes narrowing faintly, unresponsive. Michael hesitated, wanting to say something, desperate to say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say, he couldn't think of any way to console any of them, so he just stayed silent.
"Come on, Cassie," Gabriel piped up. He hadn't moved his gaze from Chuck, and he wasn't showing any sign that he was about to, narrowed eyes fixed only on their Father. Chuck hadn't moved an inch, eyes shut now, completely relaxed. Michael hated that. "Don't be an assie." Lucifer actually choked out a laugh at that, as if it had been startled from him, while Castiel slowly turned his gaze back to his older brother, looking bewildered now. And kind of offended.
Dean cleared his throat, directing Castiel's attention to him. "Cas, hang on a sec, okay? I mean, I'm fully aware that this is Lucifer here, one of the biggest dicks in existence-"
"Thanks," Lucifer interrupted, and he actually sounded genuine. Michael, meanwhile, was offended enough for the both of them.
Dean continued on as if the Devil hadn't even spoken, his gaze flickering toward Chuck, then Gabriel, then back to Lucifer before he looked back at Castiel. Michael watched silently, honestly a little curious now. "But you gotta remember something, man. He's an angel."
For a moment, Castiel only stared, confused, uncomprehending.
Michael didn't understand it at first. Not until Sam suddenly breathed in from behind them, unsteady and shocked. Dean didn't turn, looking back at Lucifer - and if Michael thought his brother had looked appreciative before, he definitely did now, staring at the hunter with a newfound sense of respect, head tilted, curious, confused and intrigued all at once. Sam spoke up after a few good moments as the realization dawned on all of them. "He needs consent."
Dean nodded, short and simple. Michael's eyes widened slightly at that, and Castiel jerked back slightly as if he'd been struck. His wide eyes darted from Sam to Lucifer in an instant, the realization causing a completely new expression to split across his face. There was still definite confusion, distrust, but all traces of hostility had vanished, and that broken look was gone. There was coming a little more hopeful there now, flickering through his eyes. And it was something akin to what Dean had been feeling before, the slight hope that had been flickering through the hunter's chest before they had left, and now Michael understood why.
"You mean." Castiel looked back at Sam and Dean, then looked back at Lucifer, eyes widening even further, disbelief flickering across his face. "You mean… Jack…"
Lucifer shrugged, puffing his cheeks out and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmmmhm. 'Cause they're planning to get rid of me," Chuck sneered out, and Michael jumped a bit, admittedly, having forgotten he was there. Dean looked back toward the archangel's Father at once, eyes narrowing slightly as the man tilted his head, grinning. "Funny, ain't it? Lucifer trying to play the good guy, the hero." He flicked his gaze toward his son, his smile turning even colder, and Michael felt something deep inside of him stir, that fire threatening to flicker back to life again. "Not a role that fits you, I gotta admit."
Lucifer waved a hand, calling Gabriel off before the archangel had even properly lifted a hand to punch their Father. Reluctantly, the youngest fell back, but his glare never faltered from Chuck. "No, I guess not," the Devil replied stiffly, narrowing his eyes at their Father. "Because I was just created to be the villain in your pathetic little story, wasn't I?"
Chuck's mouth twitched, curling upwards into a dry smile in response.
"Who's the real villain here?" Lucifer demanded, turning slowly to face him now. Dean narrowed his eyes, gaze not moving from Chuck. Michael could feel his fury rising again, all his own now. Not influenced by Adam, and hardly even influenced by Dean; No, this fury was completely his. And there was so much of it he didn't know what to do with. "You know, aside from the ones you only created for your show, your game. The real villain, Father, is the one pulling the strings." His tone changed, a mixture of disgust and contempt lacing his words. "It's not even about revenge anymore. You don't deserve the power you've got. Not after all of this."
"Look at you," Chuck murmured, rolling his eyes to the side. "Trying to be the good guy." Their Father grunted a little, and suddenly sank back into the couch a little further, a satisfied smile beginning to tug at his lips. "But I don't need you as the villain anymore, Lucifer. That got kind of old a while ago." Their Father pursed his lips, shrugging. "I actually got a new idea I wanna test out… it's gonna take some work, but I think what I have planned is gonna be the best one yet."
Michael furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding.
Gabriel blinked, lifting his gaze and finally looking away from Chuck, turning his head to look toward his brothers. Lucifer looked confused, himself, but he was making more of an effort to hide it, turning to look first at Michael, and then back toward Gabriel, before he looked back down at Chuck. Sam leaned forward a little, confused. "What?" Lucifer demanded.
Chuck just grinned, and didn't say a word. Lucifer's eyes sharpened.
"You son of a bitch," Gabriel snarled, seething, as he stepped forward. Lucifer didn't stop him this time, letting the youngest archangel storm forward, leaning over the couch and getting right in Chuck's face, lips curled back. Chuck just stared, eyes narrowed. "It's not gonna matter. You know that, right? Your game, it's over." He spat.
"No, it's not. Not yet." Chuck cracked a grin, and Gabriel opened his mouth to respond. Lucifer seemed to decide that was as good a time as any to pull his brother back, though, and thankfully enough at that, because the amount of rage radiating from the youngest archangel was honestly kind of terrifying. Michael frowned, turning his gaze back to his Father for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Dean was quiet, just thinking - so Michael hesitantly took enough control - just enough - to speak up, himself, finally bringing up the courage.
"Where's Adam?"
Chuck looked over at him, pausing. A look of recognition flickered through his eyes, realization, but no surprise. If anything, it was almost as if he had expected whatever it was. His mouth twitched, curling upwards into a sarcastic little smile. "Et tu, Michael?"
Michael stared at him, silent as ever. His fingers twitched, his blood was boiling. He watched the blood drip down the side of Chuck's mouth, studied the bruises that had formed on his face, likely from the beating his brothers had already given the man. And his hands curled up even further, balling into fists, because he wanted that. He wanted to hurt Chuck until the man was begging for mercy, he wanted to drive him to the ground and make him suffer as much as he had suffered, all those years in the Cage. And as much as he was suffering now, being apart from the one person who could make him feel alright. Something deep within the archangel was snapping, the strings holding his sanity were being snipped one by one.
But he just stood there, quiet and composed, not displaying a hint of the rage he was feeling. And again, he asked, softer this time. "Where. Is. Adam?"
As if he recognized Michael was snapping, as if he were encouraging it, Chuck leaned forward a little bit. Gabriel reacted quickly, starting forward, but Lucifer continued to hold him back. The Devil was just watching Michael, and he could feel his brother's gaze on him, silent and concerned and understanding. Dean was quiet, just watching, the same amount of understanding flickering through his chest. He didn't say a word. He didn't even move.
"What, you miss him?" Chuck's smile widened ever so slightly. "What's the matter, Mikey? Not attached to me anymore, so you had to attach yourself to someone else?" He lowered his chin a bit, while Michael only stared, the deep, burning fire turning colder and colder. "Poor little angel." Chuck paused, chuckled, and looked away. "Sorry. Poor little fallen angel, so broken and desperate for someone to follow around like a little puppy again." His Father huffed out a laugh. "What makes you think you're good enough for anyone else, son?"
And that was it.
There was a lot Michael could take. There was a lot he had taken. But this? This, he couldn't take. Each word out of Chuck's mouth was turning that fury cold. White hot, flickering through his veins like poison, lighting each and every part of him aflame. His eyes stung, but no tears came, and there was no pain. It was just from complete, utter rage. He had felt fury like this before, from Adam, but he'd never felt it so strongly. Not himself. Not toward his Father. This was destructive, this was blinding, and numbing, and intoxicating. Suddenly, all he could hear was Dean's heart pounding in his ears, fast and steady. Suddenly, all he could see was red. A haze had swept across his vision, everything else around them blurring, Chuck's face the only thing he could make out in the sea of crimson, the dark, pulsing, blood red surrounding him.
The last string had been cut, and Michael knew he should be on the edge of the cliff, falling into the insanity that had been pulling at him since the first 'get out' had crossed Adam's mind. But it didn't even feel like insanity now - it felt like everything was ten times clearer than it was before. All he could think about was Chuck, and Adam, and himself, and the Cage. And how he hadn't deserved to be tossed aside when his Father was finished with him, how he hadn't deserved to be discarded like he didn't matter, like he hadn't slaved for his Father for his entire life. All he could think about was how easily his purpose had shattered, and how lost he had felt then. But he didn't feel lost anymore. He wasn't asking why anymore, because suddenly, he understood.
He took a step forward, toward Chuck, and nobody tried to stop him. But he didn't do anything, he didn't lift a hand against him. He just stared down at him, down at the man he had used to call his Father, his God, the man that had brought him into existence and thrown him aside just as easily. He just stared, trying to catch a glimpse of something other than the pathetic mess that he was now - and feeling so, so satisfied when he couldn't. Yes, Michael understood.
"... I pity you," the archangel mumbled, his fury reaching its peak, but at the same time, he had never felt calmer. It was an odd sensation - he was pissed, but for so many different reasons than before. It was rage, but there was also such a sense of indifference, something he had never really had before. Not really defeat… no, it was acceptance. He couldn't control who Chuck was, he couldn't change the monster that he had chosen to be. And agonizing over it was just getting exhausting. There was no point in it, not anymore. Hurting over someone who couldn't care less. What good could ever come out of that? With those thoughts in mind, he came to realize that the only thing he was angry about at this point was what Chuck had done to Adam. And speaking of that…
Chuck blinked at him, silent, speechless, offended, confused.
Michael stepped forward again, and, once more, nobody tried to stop him. Lucifer stayed still, Gabriel merely watched, Sam had stood and Castiel had inched forward, but they didn't move an inch otherwise. And Dean had retreated, a deep sense of satisfaction lingering in his chest. Approval, even. No, nobody tried to stop him. Not as he threw the first punch, nor as he reeled back, fists clenched, and went for a second. Nobody moved an inch.