A/N: Merry Christmas, and happy holidays, everybody! I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!
Michael stood still, facing the hallucinations in front of him.
Both were different versions of himself - versions that had both died out long ago, diminished with the prideful light one of them had displayed, diminished with the faith that had once been their entire being. They were both long gone by now, in the real world, but here they stood, facing Michael as if they were real - as if they could be real. One of them wore the face of Dean Winchester himself, but it wasn't him. He dressed too formal, sporting a hat, and stood tall with a proud smile written across his face, his shoulders drawn up, head raised, bringing himself to his full height. Beside him, in a bit of a more casual stance, stood another man. He wore the face of a younger John Winchester, who Michael could remember possessing in the past; he flicked his gaze over the other archangel in silence, ruefully thinking how odd it was how they all stood; Him, in the form of Adam Milligan, and these two as John and Dean Winchester, respectively. It was like some sort of twisted family reunion, if one thought too hard about it.
But these archangels weren't his family - they were him. In twisted, cruel ways, they were him. They weren't real - something Michael struggled to remind himself of - but even then, it didn't erase the fact that they were standing in front of him, did it? Like Zachariah had said, they didn't need to be real to seem real. And those condescending, arrogant smirks seemed far too real. The way Michael wanted to bash their heads into a wall seemed far too real.
The one looking like John stepped forward, ever-so careful. He moved with a grace that Michael had lost so long ago, and the cold smile on his face spoke of pride, faith and arrogance all rolled into one. Staring back into the face that had once been his, Michael could see it etched into every line of his face; he was nothing more than his Father's tool. Even back then, he had known it, but he had made the most of it, still. Held himself tall, with the knowledge that he had never been the Favorite, he had never been the Chosen One or the Righteous One; but he had been the Prince of Heaven, once, and he'd taken his role with dignity, hoping that one day, if he played his Father's game long enough, he would gain the respect and recognition he deserved.
He couldn't really say he missed the way he used to be, but in some respects, he missed being able to smile with such glowing pride, as if he was doing something right. Trying not to taint his thoughts in bitterness, he held his tongue upon wanting to say that he had never done anything right, and that the him before him was just making the same mistakes Michael had. He wasn't real; he was just a figment of Michael's imagination, and a piece of his past he was being forced to confront. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could focus on escaping.
John!Michael regarded him with an amusement he had lost long ago, condescending and pitying, even, as he looked Michael up and down, as if assessing him. Michael leaned back a little, uncomfortable with the lingering gaze, but saying nothing. "It's a pity," John!Michael muttered, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "How far you've fallen. How far out of reach you are." His tone hardened, meeting Michael's gaze. "You could have been saved, but you lost faith."
"Faith is weakness," Dean!Michael muttered scornfully, sparing John!Michael an uninterested look before offering Michael a cold, amused-looking smile, taking a few steps forward and clasping his hands together in front of him. "At least this one understands that," he added dryly, while Michael simply backed away to counter the steps he was taking, looking back over his shoulder and silently praying this would end soon, that he would be taken away to somewhere else, anywhere else. It would be better than having to confront himself - quite literally - now.
"What's the matter?" Dean!Michael asked coldly, and Michael hesitantly turned back to face the other two, his shoulders tensing slightly. "Do you have somewhere more important to be?"
John!Michael had the nerve to laugh at that, like it was some kind of joke Michael didn't get. The archangel screwed his eyes shut, doing his best to block them out. It was hard enough being berated by Zachariah. But didn't he already hate himself enough? What was the point in putting these two in front of him, making them play this little game? Michael certainly knew this wasn't happening for his benefit, but did his mind really want to break him down this badly? Was he so awful that even he was turning against… himself? Was there any point fighting back, if so? For a moment, as he considered the thought, he briefly considered just throwing himself to the lions and letting them have him, much like he had done in the Cage. But, this wasn't the Cage, and he didn't have the luxury of giving in this time; not with Adam out there, fighting to get to him. Whether the one he had come across was real or not remained to be seen, but on the off-chance that he was, Michael needed to find him. Giving up wasn't an option anymore.
"See, he thinks he can just ignore us and the problem will go away," Dean!Michael commented to John!Michael, sounding amused. "Isn't that cute?"
"It's very naive," John!Michael conceded with an air of great amusement, the contempt in his voice doing nothing to stifle the burning, bubbling hatred he already felt toward his former self; opening his eyes, he offered the hallucination a glare, his hands shaking slightly as he struggled hard against his own fury. They weren't real; this reminder was what would keep him sane, something he had failed to tell himself back in the Cage. No, back then, he had allowed his own insanity to score all winning points, allowed all of the hallucinations, that circled around him like vultures ready to feed on their prey, to win the fight. But he couldn't do that this time.
"Oh, why not?" Dean!Michael snorted a little, hands in his pockets now. Michael twisted his mouth sharply, looking down and closing his eyes again. "Y'know, everything would be much easier if you just stopped fighting. Just, gave up. Like I did. Hell, like you did. Maybe if you'd given up sooner, you wouldn't be in this mess, would you?" Dean!Michael's tone sharpened, causing Michael to wince instinctively, "you wouldn't be this broken little angel you are now."
"You'd still be like me," John!Michael added calmly. "You'd still have something left. But now? Now you've got nothing more than… well, yourself. And some demon- a speck of infernal bile. One you should have destroyed long ago. One I would have." Michael's eyes snapped open, mouth opening to snarl out a response, but he didn't have the chance. "You're… lost."
"You're-" Michael growled back, lips curling slightly as he opened his mouth. But his breath hitched before he could even consider what to say next, and his lower jaw trembled, then quietly snapped back into place, ducking his head and squeezing his eyes shut as tight as possible. No, he couldn't argue back, he couldn't interact with them, he couldn't let himself fall back into this. A part of him mourned the fact that they were right. He was broken. Or, at least, most of him was broken, and he wasn't even sure he could be fixed. Here he was, trying so hard to be better, trying to be anything but the archangel Chuck had made him into, but he just kept getting dragged back with each second that ticked by. It was inescapable. It was terrifying.
"He can't even argue." Dean!Michael groaned. "This is pathetic."
John!Michael sighed. "Of course he can't argue. I'm not wrong, am I?" He challenged both of them, an amused smile forming on his lips. Michael cracked his eyes open, but he didn't look up yet, the pain in his chest twisting harder and harder with each moment. He placed a hand over his stomach, pressing down slightly, bringing up yet another rush of that sharp, burning pain. "He's got nothing left without Father."
At this, Dean!Michael seemed to pause a little. "He has revenge," the hallucination finally considered, sounding contemplative, and John!Michael offered a confused look while Michael's eyes snapped back up to Dean!Michael's face, his entire body going tense. In response, Dean!Michael offered him an amused, shark-like smile, raising his chin a little. "Ah, you like the thought of that, don't you?" He pressed, taking a few steps forward. "The thought of getting back at dear old Dad for making a fool of you? For abandoning you just like he did me?" His head tilted. "You see? We're not too different, you and I."
"Well-" John!Michael cut in before Dean!Michael could continue, before Michael could react. "That's not quite what he needs. He needs to ask for forgiveness," he added, throwing Michael a sharp glance. "For losing faith and loyalty in God."
"God doesn't deserve faith or loyalty," Dean!Michael retorted darkly, turning his head to look back at John!Dean. Michael blinked, glancing back and forth between them, then sucked in a deep breath, finally realizing what was going on. The classic 'angel and devil on your shoulders' bit. Of course, at the same time, they were both like little devils right then. One leading him on the path to revenge and the other leading him on the path to forgiveness. Neither of which he wanted; he was going to get justice, for sure, but he didn't want to hurt anyone but Chuck in doing so. The blind revenge that the alternate Michael had been after scared him.
And the idea of forgiving Chuck just went without saying.
Michael pressed his eyes shut and breathed in softly, somewhat shakily, before letting his breath out in a huff and twisting his mouth into a frown. It was almost impossible to drown the other two out, but he did so only to focus on Adam, struggling to find him through the darkness.
He realized, a little too late, that he couldn't sense anything from the demon. No emotions, no thoughts, absolutely nothing. The archangel sucked in a gasp, fighting against the panic clawing its way up his throat, cutting off his airways and making his lungs ache. He had to stay calm if he was going to get through this; Panicking just made it harder to fight the hallucinations, to pretend they didn't exist, to acknowledge that they weren't real. They would leave him be, eventually, he just had to focus on something else. And that 'something else', being his connection to Adam, was even harder to focus on now than it should have been.
Finally, just when the panic became so strong he thought he could drown in it, he heard it. It was soft, quiet, almost to the point of nonexistence; but it was there, and more than anything else, Michael knew it had to be real. Michael, Adam's voice broke through the panic and fear and confusion that had been dragging the archangel down, the despair fizzling away with each word. Halo, I don't know if you can hear this, but…
"Adam," Michael breathed, running his fingers through his hair and gripping the sides of his head tightly. John!Michael and Dean!Michael faded away - more figuratively than literally - as he focused completely on the demon's words. "Adam- Adam I can hear you, I-" He stopped himself, a hand over his mouth, desperately willing him to continue. He was shaking now, but less with fear and more with anticipation, his chest ten times lighter and the foggy cloud of panic having been lifted tenfold, grasping at whatever piece of his best friend that he could.
Unfortunately, Adam didn't continue for a while, and the silence made it easier for John!Michael's voice to break through, sharp and commanding as he approached Michael. "You don't need that disgusting, incessant pit of filth-"
Michael reacted before he could even really register what he was doing; he simply lashed out, grabbing onto whatever part of the hallucination he could reach - which was John!Michael's wrist - and simply slinging them backwards, away from him. He watched, wincing a little, as his former self went crashing back, but instead of feeling guilty, or afraid, he felt almost satisfied. The archangel sucked in a deep breath and stumbled back a few steps, lifting his hand back to his head and closing his eyes again, as tight as possible. "Adam… Adam, say something…"
"You're weak," John!Michael roared, pushing himself to stand. "You're a weak, useless coward!"
"Hiding behind a demon, of all creatures," Dean!Michael jeered with a sharp little laugh, as Michael screwed his eyes shut to the point where it almost hurt. "And yet you think I'm bad. But you- you just need someone to cling onto, don't you? You just need someone to steady yourself against, because poor little baby Michael can't stand up on his own. You're pathetic," he spat. "You're a pathetic, worthless good-for-nothing."
"Stop- stop talking," Michael hissed, ignoring the way the words made his chest twist and tighten, the pain that they incited; he needed to listen, he needed to hear Adam. "Stop."
You gotta wake up, man.
"You don't deserve Father's love," John!Michael seethed. "You don't even deserve to exist anymore. You're lucky he allowed you to live after you failed him. You're lucky he hasn't destroyed you, and you'll be lucky if he doesn't. Or maybe you'd be better off," he added darkly, "maybe being dead would be better than being nothing. The nothing that you are, and the nothing that you've always been. He knew it. We know it. You know it."
"Adam knows it," Dean!Michael added coldly.
Michael flinched back a little bit, bringing his hands up over his ears now instead. They were getting harder and harder to drown out, and Adam was getting harder to hear over the near screeching they were doing now, their desperation to be heard. He didn't understand it, not at first, why they seemed to be grabbing for his attention so recklessly, why Adam's voice hadn't already flushed them out completely. The demon had always been able to silence the internal voices, the whispers in his ears, no matter how loud they were. The only time he struggled was back in the Cage, locked up inside his own head with his own self-loathing, the only time it could flush Adam out so effectively, so viciously, was back in the Cage. The Cage, the Cage…
"Well, aren't you a smart cookie," Zachariah muttered from behind him, as Dean!Michael and John!Michael were finally silenced; Michael's eyes flew open, staring ahead. They were both gone, the darkness around them having given way to something else entirely, something Michael wasn't quite expecting to see. It was the park, of all places. Zachariah wouldn't have brought him here, for sure - Michael must have, if only subconsciously… the archangel turned slowly to face his brother. "Too bad you figured it out. It was fun while it lasted."
"What-? Dad," Michael mumbled, somewhat frantically. "Dad. What did he do?"
Rather than answering, Zachariah just turned his head to the side, looking intrigued, as if he was listening to something; Michael paused, straining to hear it, as well, and he nearly fell to his knees when Adam's voice started up again, soft and pleading. I'm going to try and come in there myself… Mike, man, please… if I can't reach you, even in there…
"Looks like the cavalry's coming," Zachariah noted dryly, "I wonder if he'll be able to fight… you."
Michael stared back at him, his teeth grinding together, but he said nothing. Oh, there were so many things he wanted to say - so many things he wished he had the confidence to, but the words just wouldn't leave. He didn't even know how to begin. He just wanted his best friend. But the realization that what was happening here - hallucinations, Zachariah trying to break him, John!Michael and Dean!Michael - wasn't just his own imagination, his own insanity, but an outside source as well, left him somewhat despaired. He couldn't fight himself, but he certainly hadn't been able to fight the Cage, and it had, ultimately, succeeded in breaking him down.
"You're just not strong enough, Michael," Zachariah told him, taking a few steps forward and tucking his hands into his pockets with an amused little smirk now. "You weren't then. You aren't now. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just give in? Wasn't throwing the towel in easier than putting up a fight?" His brother pressed, pausing just in front of him now. "I mean, come on. How many times is Adam gonna have to put you back together again before he runs out of glue? Hell, I bet he's already getting sick of having to pick your sorry ass up every time you fall apart. Why he even tries anymore is beyond me. So why keep putting him in that position?" Michael didn't respond, just flinched slightly, keeping his gaze downcast. "You're not important enough for him, Michael, and he's gonna realize it. Sooner or later, he's gonna leave you. Wouldn't it be better to just break now instead of later? It'd sure as hell hurt a lot less."
Michael didn't respond for a moment, thinking back to the things Adam had said to him before - "Buddy, this is forever. You and me. Adam and Michael. Michael and Adam." - but it was even more than that, it was… the feelings. The emotions Adam displayed; the first time Michael had begun to realize that their relationship was even deeper than he had known, after he'd almost gotten them killed, when Adam had been so angry with him - but not for putting the demon in danger, but for putting himself in a situation where he could have been hurt. The fear of losing him had stunned the archangel, if only for a few seconds, just the realization that even if Adam couldn't quite say it aloud just yet, he really did mean something to the demon.
And then, gradually, he'd watched as Adam softened, more and more each day, becoming much more open with everything he was feeling - "As far as I'm concerned, you're my family." - the little gestures, the words, even the smiles that Adam allowed himself every so often. They spoke volumes, and they spoke more truth than Zachariah ever had, would, or could.
Because Adam didn't lie. Not to him.
Michael's confidence was already beginning to strengthen before Adam's voice found its way back to his ears again, enveloping him in the calm, direct, honest serenity that the demon so often displayed, and he couldn't keep back a smile despite himself at the words that Adam spoke. I need you. That's the thing with us, man, I need you, and you need me. We only had each other then, and we only got each other now.
Truthfully, Michael had never believed anything more.
You and me. No God, no grand story. We write our own beginning, and we write our own ending. We're the ones that broke through. We're the ones that weren't supposed to be part of the story, but we put ourselves in anyway.
The archangel's smile widened a little bit at that. It was true - despite everything, despite Chuck's best attempts to push them back, he and Adam had forced their way right back into the 'story', had built themselves up out of absolutely nothing. That took strength - from both ends.
So let's make it ours- you and me, just like it's always been, and kick it in the ass.
"You're not even listening to me anymore, are you?" Zachariah's voice broke into the archangel's thoughts by the time the prayer finally ended, and Michael was practically grinning to himself at that point; even his brother couldn't wipe the smile away as he blinked his eyes open and looked back up, leaning back slightly and focusing on the other angel. He found that the pain had gone, the fears and uncertainties that had plagued his mind had been quieted, and even the constant, whispering voices had shut up. Like every bit of negativity had just drained away - not temporarily, either. Like it was gone, diminished, evaporated, finally stifled by the newfound sense of… contentment that had settled in the archangel's chest.
And he embraced it, feeling, for the first time, that he finally deserved it.
"No. Not anymore," he told Zachariah distractedly, turning his head away for a moment, then taking a deep breath. Ever so slowly, he straightened up, tugging his arms from around himself and letting them drop back to his sides instead. "Because you're not real. You or your little lies. I'm not weak, and I'm not a coward. I'm…" He trailed off for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say, what needed to be said. "I gave… my entire life to someone who never cared from the beginning. I was betrayed. Used. Abandoned. Thrown into Hell. And for a while, I thought that I deserved it - and, you know what? It was exactly what I deserved, because it helped me see exactly what a piece of shit the man I had lived my entire life to serve really was." His expression twisted slightly, eyes darkening, though less with anger and more with determination. "And I'm going to be there when we put him away. I'm going to stand side by side with my friends and my family while the one that caused all of us so much pain and suffering for his own amusement is finally punished."
Zachariah didn't say a word, just stared at him, fury and contempt flickering through his eyes.
"I'm not nothing," Michael muttered, mostly to himself now, rather than the hallucination before him. "I'm a Goddamn warrior and I'm gonna finally do what's right, because Chuck gave up the power to control me when he left me in the Cage. And when he's gone, we're gonna write ourselves a brand new story, with our own happy ending, free from the web he's spun. He can't stop me - and you can't stop me," he challenged Zachariah, eyes narrowed. "So either you let me go, or you keep it coming, but one way or another, I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"But you're not strong enough," Zachariah challenged, "you won't let yourself be strong enough. That's why you're in this mess, because you know you don't deserve it. You're just a maggot-"
"I," Michael interrupted sharply, drawing himself up to his full height and taking a step forward. "Am the Prince of Heaven. Whether Chuck made me or not, that is what he made me." He sucked in a deep breath, almost a gasp, hands curling into fists at his sides. The adrenaline coursing through him seemed to be pumping stronger than ever now, blazing, burning.
"And I'm strong enough," the archangel continued slowly, "to do whatever I damn well please."
The park jolted, suddenly, abrupt and sharp, like an earthquake; it took only a second for Zachariah to disappear from where he'd been standing in front of Michael, just moments before. And, just when the archangel was about to turn to leave, satisfied that the park was empty and he could move on to finally get back to wherever Adam was, he found himself facing the demon; he jumped a little despite himself, more out of surprise than anything, but Adam just laughed a little as he pushed himself back on the swing he was seated on, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looked over at Michael. "So, you finally did it," he commented.
Michael paused for a second, a little uncertain. He didn't answer yet, just asked, cautiously, "are you real?" Because, of course, he couldn't be sure, even now. He thought back to how Adam had appeared before him, just as he was doing now, only to disappear the moment Zachariah showed up again. If this was the same case, then Michael had to be prepared for anything.
"I always knew you had it in you," Adam continued casually, not answering the question. "Just wondered how long it would take for you to grow a pair. I gotta admit, I'm not disappointed." He pushed himself back on the swing again, humming in amusement as he was propelled forward.
Michael frowned a little, more or less unnerved that his question had been left unanswered. But before he had the chance to ask again, knowing there was really no other way to be sure - though, to be completely honest, he was already certain that this Adam, sitting in front of him, wasn't real, as the demon would have answered by then - he felt it; a sudden rush of emotions, not from his side, but from Adam's. It all came pouring in again, the barrier between them seemingly crumbled along with Zachariah's disappearance, and the archangel whirled around the moment he felt it. There was concern, there was frustration, and confusion - but then, abruptly, when Adam seemed to feel their connection return to full strength, there was nothing but relief and excitement, something that the archangel could feel just as strongly.
"Hey, tell me I said hi," 'Adam' piped up from behind him, laughter tainting his words. Michael glanced back at him, blinking, wondering why - if he really wasn't real, and was just a figment of his imagination - he wasn't berating him, beating him down like the other hallucinations had tried to do. It didn't make sense until 'Adam' snorted, smirked, and rolled his eyes, replying smoothly,
"Come on, asshole. You didn't really expect me to be the villain in your story, did you?"
"Michael!"
The archangel turned, at once. Unlike 'Adam''s cool, calm, collected tone, the voice that greeted him was full of concern, anxious but still buzzing with the relief that they had been reunited once again. The very second Michael's eyes focused on Adam's face - the real Adam - that was it; he practically lit up, not hesitating in rushing forward to meet the demon halfway as he approached.
The very first thing he did was wrap his arms around Adam, feeling more calm and secure than ever the moment he finally reached the demon. His best friend hugged him back tighter than he ever had before, as if he was afraid that he would lose him again the second he let go; Michael buried his face into Adam's shoulder, content to stay exactly where he was for at least the next few years that followed, because he'd been separated from the demon long enough, and he didn't think he'd be able to let him go again after all of this. He relaxed into Adam's embrace, breathing out a soft sigh, muffled by the fabric of his friend's suit as his eyes drifted shut. It was over; Zachariah was gone, he'd beaten the hallucinations, he'd pushed past his own insanity and he'd done it - mostly - by himself. And now that it was over, he could be with Adam again.
Abruptly, the demon began to push him away; the archangel opened his mouth to protest, but he hardly had any time to. "Are you okay?" Adam demanded, looking him up and down. Michael took the chance to glance him over a bit, as well, feeling weak with relief upon seeing that the demon, himself, looked unharmed. "Are you okay?" Adam repeated sharply.
"I-" Michael shook his head a little, pulling himself from his own thoughts to respond. "I'm fine, I'm okay, I promise- are you?" He brought his gaze back to Adam's, searching the demon's eyes somewhat desperately, feeling relieved when he saw the concern fade into a mixture of relief and - surprisingly enough - a little bit of amusement, even, as the demon pulled away.
"I'm so much better than okay," Adam admitted, huffing out a laugh. "Boy, do I have a story for you."
"Me, too," Michael laughed a little, as well, despite himself, feeling weak with relief - but, surprisingly, not at all exhausted. Hell, he felt more energized than he had felt in a while. Like his adrenaline was still pumping, like he could do just about anything. But the only thing he wanted to do was settle down with Adam again, to hear his stories and tell his own. Oh, he knew how proud the demon would be of him finally telling Zachariah off, finally managing to push past the chains of self-doubt and self-loathing that he had coiled so tightly around him. He closed his eyes for a moment, but, as another thought occurred, his relief slowly fizzled away. "Wait a second," he began, blinking his eyes open and looking down at Adam. "Oh, the park-"
"Don't worry about that," Adam interrupted quickly, "everything's taken care of. I'm back at the bunker - hell, at the moment, I'm actually in Dean's head." Michael blinked, his expression twisting slightly in confusion, as the demon clarified somewhat amusedly, "it was the only way I could reach you. Dreamwalking wasn't exactly cutting it this time. It was like… like something…"
"Was blocking you out," Michael finished, recalling Zachariah's words. You can't get out and they can't get in. The archangel grimaced a little, shaking his head. "I think I might be able to explain that. Like I said, I've got a few stories of my own." He paused, his expression softening once again as he met Adam's gaze once more, a small smile appearing on his face. "After you."
Adam nodded a little, a sly smile appearing on his face. "Well, it'd be a lot easier to show you," he told the archangel wryly, and Michael froze for a second, his expression shifting; his eyes lit up at once, and the slight smile turned into a full-on grin at the implications. They were in the same place again; Adam was back at the bunker and, with his permission, they could both easily leave Dean's body to go back to their own vessel, reunited once again. There wasn't anything Michael could hear right then that could be more relieving, more gratifying than that.
"Yes," the archangel breathed out eagerly, taking a step forward, and Adam's lips tugged into a grin, looking just as excited as Michael was now. "Yes it would. We- we can…?"
"Yeah," Adam laughed a little, reaching out and putting a hand on Michael's shoulder; the archangel leaned into the touch, smiling warmly back at his best friend. "We can." Adam smiled at him, brighter and warmer than ever, every bit of the relief Michael was feeling etched clearly across the demon's face. And, in response, he felt his own relief growing stronger, the warmth in his chest intensifying until the archangel honestly felt like he just might explode from it all. "So whattya say we get the fuck outta here and catch up, huh, halo?"
Michael huffed out a laugh, grabbing onto the demon's arm, mostly to ensure he didn't collapse. "Took the words right out of my mouth, horns."