A/N: GUESS WHO'S BAAAACK~!
Yep! Halo and Horns are back in business~
So here's the deal. I'm slowly getting back into SPN again - slowly but surely. But, I won't be updating on a schedule like before. From now on - and this goes for all of my ongoing stories - I'm simply going to be posting what I write when I write it. I've decided that's probably the easiest way for me - I find it easier to post my stuff right away instead of piling it up and posting it together/on a schedule. I'm almost done with the chapter after this one, and I'll be posting that when it's finished too. So, as of this moment, I'm posting chapters as soon as I finish them. Whenever this is, of course, is... well, it's just whenever writer's block and inspiration lets me XD
I wanna thank everyone who's been waiting patiently for me to continue the story. I appreciate your patience and loyalty.
Enjoy the chapter!
"-and that's why I'm pretty sure that this is part of the Cage, or at least made the same way. Probably Father's way of keeping me out of commission," Michael finished his explanation, now sitting back in a chair with the sword in his lap and his knees bouncing slightly. Not quite anxious, more or less just restless, wanting to get out there and do something - but, Adam was resting, and he didn't want to disturb the demon, so he just had to sit tight for now until they were ready to go to the Empty. He fixed his eyes on the chains, the Nephilim Grace still working to infuse itself into them, only halfway finished. It was taking a long time, but the archangel couldn't complain. It could take as long as it wanted, as long as, in the end, they were ready to put Chuck away. He took a deep breath, twisting his mouth sharply, and looked back over at his younger brother, eyebrows furrowing.
Lucifer looked more contemplative than anything, but his eyes flickered with a barely-restrained anger that - to be honest - Michael hadn't seen from him in quite some time. It was somewhat protective, though that didn't surprise him at this point. Lucifer had changed quite a bit, becoming more and more of the angel he used to be - the angel he should have been - and he was beginning to feel it, too. And while a part of the archangel was amazed, he still wasn't particularly shocked by it. He smiled slightly at his younger brother, hoping to reassure him. The Devil just sighed, mouth twisting slightly, and leaned back against the table with a shrug. "Well, it didn't work," Lucifer added, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You're back, and we've got this." He fell silent for a few seconds, as Michael just nodded along in agreement with a small smile on his face now, his eyes focused on the Nephilim Grace and the chains. After a while, though, the Devil spoke up again, "I do have a question, though," he began slowly, "why Zachariah?"
Out of everything, that's what Lucifer took from that… Michael shook his head a little, honestly somewhat amused. "I don't know," he replied honestly, unable to help but think back to the Cage. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and frowned. "I really don't know. I guess- because of everything in Heaven." The archangel narrowed his eyes, recalling how easy it was for Zachariah to manipulate him, how he could turn Michael against Lucifer with just a few words, how all he had to do was imply that it was God's will, or that God would be proud, that God would want it, for him to get Michael to do whatever he wanted. Michael had been blind then - now, he was realizing that his brother was just as bad as Chuck was. The archangel sank back a little in his seat, giving his brother a small smile and a shrug. "But it doesn't matter," Michael added quickly, rolling his shoulders back a little and looking back up at his younger brother, who just offered a quiet hum of acknowledgement and looked away again.
"I guess not." Lucifer fixed his gaze on the chains, falling silent, and Michael frowned, watching him for a moment. He thought back to something Adam had thought before - something was wrong with the Devil, but the demon couldn't figure it out. And with everything going on, he hadn't really had much of a chance to ask. At least, he couldn't seem to get Lucifer alone in order to do so. But they were alone now, and Michael figured now was as good a time as any to maybe get his younger brother to open up to him. He couldn't really remember the last time he and Lucifer had had a genuine heart-to-heart, but- he did know that if something was wrong with his brother, he wanted to know about it. Sure, it could just be everything with Chuck, but for some reason, Michael didn't really think that was the case. Something else was… off.
And this time, Michael was determined to get some answers.
"So…" The archangel began slowly, locking his eyes on his brother, and Lucifer paused, flicking his gaze back over to Michael's. "Can't help but notice, you're just… awful quiet, Luci." Michael's expression softened slightly, eyes dancing with concern as he shifted and leaned forward in his chair, crossing his arms over his lap. Lucifer seemed to visibly pause at that, biting down on his lower lip. His shoulders tensed, arms twitching, as he seemed to shove his hands a little deeper into his pockets. Michael's frown deepened, watching for a moment, before slowly bringing his eyes back to his brother's face. Yeah, something was wrong - Lucifer was hiding his hands. Now, if there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that the Devil never hid his hands in his pockets. And he also knew that he shook - a lot - when he got stressed. That was the only reason Michael could think of as to why he'd be hiding them. "Are you okay?"
He watched Lucifer's chest stop moving, as if the Devil was holding his breath. His little brother stayed like that for a moment, his eyes rooted to Michael's as if he couldn't quite bring himself to look away, or as if maybe he thought that looking away would make him seem even more not-okay than he already did. Whatever the reason, his hesitance was more or less Michael's focus, anyway, watching as he opened and closed his mouth, seemingly struggling to spit out a response - or to come up with one in the first place. After all, his brother didn't lie, did he? The archangel was curious as to how he was going to dodge this one, to be completely honest. Michael leaned back, ever so silent, as Lucifer finally hissed out a sigh through his teeth and leaned back a little bit more, not moving his hands from his pockets. "I'm as okay as I can be," the Devil finally replied, slowly, "given the circumstances."
"Well, no, I know that," Michael assured him immediately, frowning. He didn't expect his brother to be okay; sure, Lucifer was right, he was getting what he wanted by proving that Chuck was really the villain all along, but the archangel could see, clearly, there was something else bothering him. Something else was wrong with him - and he didn't seem as happy with the situation as anyone else would have expected. Though, to be honest, Michael didn't. Not really. He knew his brother enough to know that even if Lucifer might have been triumphant at first, seeing the aftermath of their Father's mistakes and genuinely realizing he had been right… it must be so, so hard on the Devil. Hell, it was hard on Gabriel, for crying out loud. Michael sighed, furrowing his eyebrows faintly. "I don't expect you to be okay, Luci- even slightly. It's alright if you're not." Lucifer didn't respond, just flicked his gaze away. "You can talk to me."
"Yyyeah," Lucifer stretched the beginning of the word out slightly as he suddenly pushed himself to stand. Michael watched him, blinking, flinching a little on instinct but more or less holding his ground for the most part. "I don't think I'm gonna do that. I'm gonna go see how Auntie Amara and Jack are doing with Cassie. Keep an eye on that, would you?" The Devil looked toward the bowl for a moment, and Michael only followed his gaze for a second before Lucifer had turned around to leave, hardly giving the archangel any time to react. For a moment, Michael sat back, knowing that his reaction, prior to this moment, would have been to just… let him go.
But he'd let him go before, and look where that had gotten them.
It wasn't fair to Lucifer. It wasn't fair to him. He wasn't going to lose his little brother over Chuck, not again. He knew that the Devil wasn't okay, and he knew that Lucifer wouldn't tell him right now, he seemed to feel like he couldn't, but on a deeper level than Michael had ever known. There was definitely something a little stronger here now, brewing below the surface, something was wrong in a way that hadn't been before. Hell, it had been wrong ever since the day Lucifer and Castiel had gone to the Empty together. That's when his brother's entire demeanor had changed, becoming more withdrawn on himself, and more and more intent with finishing the Cage and locking their Father up for good. Michael's expression shifted, taking note of exactly when his brother's behavior had changed. He knew one thing; he wasn't letting Lucifer just walk away again, not this time. He wasn't going to make the mistake of turning his back on his brother, by letting Lucifer turn his back on him. The archangel took a deep breath, standing up.
"No," the word was careful, not hostile, but not submissive, passive. He turned his head, putting the sword down on the table, while Lucifer paused where he stood without quite turning to face him again. The surprise radiating off of his brother, pulsing through the room, was almost palpable. It took most of Michael's newfound confidence not to shrink in on himself again, every instinct screaming to just let his brother walk away, because to be honest, he wasn't really sure if this was going to spark up another fight or if it was going to help them. Regardless, he pushed forward, pressing gently but determinedly, "Lucifer, I'm tired of just brushing things off with you. That's what I did in Heaven, and look where it got us. I just want to help."
"I know, Michael…" Lucifer sighed, and it sounded like it had been ripped from his throat forcefully, as if he was having some trouble getting the sound out, but as if there was no other choice. The Devil didn't turn back to him, simply kind of hunched over on himself, his hands burrowing deeper into his pockets, it looked like, as his arms tensed up further. "This isn't Heaven. It's not the same. Nothing's the same," he added, almost harshly, though his anger didn't seem to be directed toward Michael. The archangel just furrowed his eyebrows faintly, listening on in silence. "But it's not… like that. You just… you just can't help with this."
"How do you know?" Michael challenged, albeit gently, "you're not giving me a chance now."
Silence followed his words, aside from another strangled sigh from Lucifer, as his little brother finally turned to him again. He sank his weight sideways against the table, blue eyes flickering with exhaustion; Michael studied that particular expression for a moment, not knowing how long it would last until Lucifer realized his mask had fallen. Or maybe Lucifer had intentionally let it down - regardless, he had to drink it all in while he could, take note, before the Devil had the chance to rip it away again. He just looked so tired - Michael didn't think that expression could escape his memory, even if he tried to forget it. He'd never seen him look like that, not ever.
"Michael, I'm not…" He watched Lucifer's expression shift, his mouth open and close.
He watched a thousand lies rise to his tongue, watched them choke and suffocate him in the span of a few short seconds. Watched them fizzle out, because of course they did, it was Lucifer and even now, maybe even especially now, Lucifer didn't - wouldn't - couldn't - lie. Regardless, it didn't make watching him struggle any easier. After all, he'd been in that position. He knew exactly what it felt like, having a vague sense of what you wanted to say, but not being able to. Holding yourself back, forcing the words right back down your own throat and choking on them, choking on your hesitance and your fear and your uncertainty. It was suffocating, and it hurt. And he was seeing his years worth of pain reflected on his younger brother's face now. Really seeing it, for the first ever time, and realizing in the same instance that it wasn't the first time.
They were created, Michael marveled, before all of time itself. Before time had even been a thought in their heads. So how long- how long- had Lucifer forced himself shut like this? How long had he choked on his words, so painfully honest and yet still burdened with so much that he would never be able to say? It was inconceivable. It was mortifying. It was sickening.
Nausea rolled in the pit of his stomach, clouding his senses for those good few seconds. He almost let himself give into the sensations, but he didn't - because he still had his little brother standing in front of him, his little brother who was hurting in ways Michael couldn't imagine - and simultaneously, ways that he was all too familiar with - and he would be damned, again, if he was going to let Lucifer continue slipping further away from him. The walls were up. Lucifer wasn't going to go an inch further. So it was up to Michael to slam the wrecking ball forward, and it was up to Michael to rip the wall apart brick by brick until there was nothing left between them. He wasn't going to let this continue anymore; it was time to change.
Things needed to change. For the better, this time. Not for the worst.
"Stop."
He held his hands up, palms facing forward, and watched Lucifer's breathing cease. His slightly panicked expression, torn between honesty and uncertainty, rapidly diminished into confusion. Which was - somewhat - relieving, and Michael took the chance to allow himself to breathe in, deep and steady. He needed to figure out how to approach this in a way that wouldn't make Lucifer close in on himself again. He needed to be gentle - but not enough to allow him to slip away. He couldn't just let his brother tell him he was fine and watch him become closed off again - he couldn't let that happen, not this time, it was time to start putting his foot down. In the nicest way possible. The archangel ran his tongue over his lips, and exhaled.
And, at last, he stepped forward and reached out for Lucifer's shoulder. His hand hovered, but didn't recoil, even as Lucifer pulled away from him. The Devil's gaze flashed toward his hand, and then back up to his face, eyes narrowing faintly. Michael couldn't quite read the expression, a mixture of confusion and a little bit of distrust, and the archangel pushed down the hurt that curled in his chest, resisting the urge to pull back, and met his brother's gaze steadily.
"Luci," Michael murmured, soft, quiet, pleading. Lucifer's expression shifted, cracking, twisting, and he watched his younger brother hesitate under his gentle stare, watched his stony expression crumble, if only briefly. It wasn't that Michael didn't understand his hesitance - because he did, he really, truly did, and he knew Lucifer deserved to be hesitant, he deserved to be wary and unsure, after all he had been through. But he wanted him to know that he didn't have anything to fear around Michael anymore. He wanted Lucifer to know, and understand, that Michael was there. He was there, and he wanted to be the brother he should have been.
People push us away when they need us the most, Sam's words rang in his ears. Please stop pushing me away, Luci.
Finally, Lucifer seemed to soften, and Michael reached for his shoulder again. This time, his brother let him - with a bit of a grimace - clasp his hand over his shoulder. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, a rush of relief pounding against his chest. Good, it was a start. It was a step forward. But they needed more, and Michael was willing to take the leap - and now, a little more hopeful that, if he did, Lucifer would jump after him. With that in mind, he slowly began to relax, blinking his eyes open and glancing over at his younger brother. He had an idea… the archangel could only hope it didn't backfire, that it didn't do more harm than good.
He paused, unfurling his wings. They felt a little lighter - his eyebrows twitched, glancing back for a second - but he didn't get the chance to see them before Lucifer was suddenly moving back, wary once again. Michael raised his hand, turning back to him, allowing his brother to move away from him to show him he meant absolutely no harm. "It's- It's okay, Lucifer."
Lucifer just stared past him for a moment, looking visibly shocked, and Michael's worry steadily dissolved into confusion as he realized his brother's reaction had nothing to do with him, but his wings. The archangel looked back again, finally twisting slightly to get a good look, and he couldn't keep back a sharp gasp in time. Spread out wide, his wings bristled, feathers mixed with blue and black spread out and fluttering. They looked nothing like they had before - rather, to be honest, they looked like an angel's Grace and a demon's soul woven together, forming two large, glorious wings. Michael blinked, fluttering them slightly; they moved with him fluidly, as if they had always done so, and he heard a soft hiss from his brother as Lucifer inhaled sharply.
"Whoa."
Michael paused, glancing over. He couldn't help but smile at the wonder on his brother's face, but his attention was redirected from his wings almost immediately, back to the reason he had pulled them out in the first place. "Yeah, whoa-" He made a mental note to show Adam later, he knew the demon had never been a fan of flying, but he had to know what he'd think of them, "-what do you say we take them for a test run?" He offered, holding his hand out to his brother yet again, and Lucifer's gaze flicked back to him immediately. "I wanna take you somewhere."
"Gee, Micha," his brother muttered, eyes narrowing faintly, "at least buy me dinner first."
Michael rolled his eyes, his time with Adam, unfortunately, allowing him the pleasure of knowing exactly what his brother meant by that. Still, he couldn't help a small, amused smile. He knew the joke was just Lucifer's way of trying to change the subject - or maybe to pretend this wasn't happening, but it was, and Michael, again, wasn't going to let him slip by as easily as before. A part of him hoped they could get through this before Adam woke up, to be honest. So he kept his hand extended to Lucifer, holding his gaze, a silent offering, and hoped he'd take it.
Lucifer's eyes flicked back and forth between his, blue eyes blazing with uncertainty, suspicion. But, eventually, at last, he moved forward slightly. His gaze darted to Michael's hand when the archangel reached out further, relief flickering across the oldest one's face as he clasped his hand down onto his younger brother's shoulder again. It meant Lucifer was trusting him again, for the first time in a long time, and Michael tightened his grip slightly. He wouldn't give Lucifer a reason to regret it, not this time. Confidence strengthened, the archangel stretched his wings out a little more, relishing in the way they spread so easily, no longer stiff, or singed, or hurt. He could feel the power coursing through his veins again, the strength he hadn't felt in so long, and he found himself marveling over it for a good few seconds as he searched for the location he wanted to bring them to, and cracking a relieved grin when he found it. Lucifer shifted, tense.
… there really was so much tension in his shoulders.
Michael's grin wavered, eyes blinking open as his focus shifted, rapidly readjusting his priorities. He couldn't believe how stiff Lucifer was. The tremors that the archangel had assumed had only taken his hands were, indeed, wracking his entire body, just in small, barely-noticeable bursts. Barely-noticeable, but now Michael could feel the shivers underneath his hand. The way Lucifer's muscles rippled, tensed, locked, recoiled and trembled again under his touch. His mouth twisted, shifting into a frown now, as he flicked his eyes over his younger brother's face. The tension seemed to come from how taut his younger brother was, the overly-tense posture he had taken. Meant to look relaxed outwardly, but built carefully only to hide the shaking of his muscles, the product of the anxiety that seemed to be swallowing him whole from the inside out.
Another rush of nausea curled in his gut, and he tightened his grip on Lucifer's shoulder somewhat unconsciously. In response, his brother twitched and twisted, but made no real effort to break away from the grasp yet. Just stood and stared, blue eyes taking in his expression with an unexplainable sense of wariness, a distrust that didn't seem like it was even directed at Michael anymore. No, it seemed more or less reserved for himself. Michael had to physically restrain himself from nodding at the thought, letting his eyes slip shut with a soft, pained sigh.
Taking a deep breath again, the archangel finally brought up the nerve, and the courage, to bring himself closer to his brother, tightening his grip slightly. Lucifer's muscles rippled under the touch, seeming about two seconds away from pulling back again, but Michael didn't give him a chance. He was tired of the dance, the one-step-forward, two-steps-back that was their relationship. And he was going to put an end to it, finally, right then and right there.
He brought the wings up, ruffled feathers spreading out, the easiness of the movements almost bringing a smile to his face - but not quite. Still, he brought them down again, flapping them with a gentle, familiar whoosh. Again, it was so… easy, in comparison to how hard it had been to fly recently. He knew they had arrived where he wanted when he felt wind against his skin, blowing his hair back - but even more so, because the moment he felt the breeze, he also felt Lucifer suddenly jolt, jerk and break away from him, recoiling as if he'd been shoved. Michael blinked his eyes open, mouth twisting sharply as he looked up at his younger brother, flickering blue eyes taking in his expression hesitantly. Lucifer looked stunned, gaze flicking around rapidly.
Stull Cemetery.
"What-" The word came out in a huff, breathless in his brother's attempt to spit it out. Michael didn't move his gaze from Lucifer's. Partially because he didn't want to take the look around himself. He was already tense enough just knowing where they were - looking around, confirming it, would make it even worse, and he had to keep himself relaxed for the most part now for Lucifer's sake. The Devil's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face, and his mouth twisted into a loose scowl. "Oh, man. Oh- man- come on," he expressed his displeasure with little hesitation, bringing a sharp glare in Michael's direction, and the archangel flinched slightly - more so out of instinct than anything. Still, he steeled himself again rather quickly, his resolve unwavering for the first time in a long time. He had known Lucifer wouldn't like this, and he didn't really like it too much himself, but he knew it was more than necessary. "Why'd you bring me here, Michael?" The words were sharp, accusing, distrusting.
Michael kept himself from flinching again by flicking his gaze away, cautious eyes finally leaving his brother in order to take a reluctant look around. He couldn't keep his breath from catching in his throat in time - couldn't stop the way his shoulders tensed, reeled back, feeling every muscle in his body pull taut. But he didn't fight it - it was a natural reaction, one he'd expect in any case. He was just glad Adam was asleep, recalling how the demon had spiraled straight into a panic attack upon realizing exactly where they were when they had left Hell for the first time in years. It was hard to be here, but the archangel wouldn't expect any less from any of them. But he was hoping, this time, it could be a place of healing instead, to start righting his wrongs and fix his mistakes. The archangel closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his lips, breathing out.
"You remember," he began, hesitantly, yet not without the conviction, the determination that had consumed him. They were doing this. "You remember when you asked me what the point was? Father making us fight- making us kill each other, for the sake of his tests…"
"Of course I- I remember, Michael," Lucifer's words were clipped, and while they lacked the distrust he had displayed prior, his voice was still strained. Michael blinked his eyes open to look over at him again, watching his brother shift and stutter where he stood, either wanting to get away or come closer - or both - but not quite being able to make his feet move. Michael watched him in silence, watched as his little brother pulled himself together again.
The tensing of his jaw was all he needed to see to know that the younger archangel had succeeded, before he spoke. "It's kind of hard to forget. I still don't get why you brought me here, though. It's over, isn't it?"
"Is it?" Michael questioned back immediately, and Lucifer's entire body tensed, shifted, moving backwards without quite stepping away. The archangel furrowed his eyebrows, turning a little to face Lucifer again, but he didn't approach for fear of putting Lucifer more on edge. "I know with- with everything, we haven't had the chance to talk. Y'know, really talk. I'm sorry, I… I should be there, I know- and I want to. I've wanted to since-" He stopped for a moment, sucking in air he didn't really need, more or less just aching for a break so that he could think his words over more carefully. Lucifer stared at him in silence, the tension in his shoulders winding down. "But I don't know how to…" The archangel lifted a hand, gesturing between them. "I don't know how to talk to you, Lucifer. I don't know if you even want to talk. I don't know if you need to. If we need to. I don't know if it'll make things better or worse, or if we can even get past this-"
"We are past it," Lucifer interrupted, and Michael couldn't help but tremble a little, just for a second, visible and deep, because his brother's voice was suddenly quiet, soft and breathless and broken, laced with exhaustion and pain. But also fury - so much fury that Michael, once again, almost flinched. This time, though, he managed to keep himself from doing so, expressing his surprise with little more than a blink of his eyes as Lucifer continued on. "That's the whole point! I'm- Michael, we're fine. I don't care about-" His gaze flickered, leaving Michael and roaming around instead. The archangel managed a halfhearted glance around the cemetery, himself, before ultimately choosing to focus on Lucifer once again. "-all of that."
Michael hesitated, staring at him for a moment. He couldn't help but question whether or not he should believe that - on one hand, Lucifer didn't lie. But on the other hand, if it was true, then why… why did it still feel like it did matter? Like that was why Lucifer wasn't talking to him now, wouldn't tell him what was going on. He frowned, biting down on his lip for a moment. His arms twitched, aching to wrap around himself again, to shield himself once more. But he simply stood still and just watched, as Lucifer hunched over slightly, tense shoulders rocking forward as he dug his hands into his pockets and stared out at the graveyard through narrowed eyes.
"But something's still wrong," Michael blurted out before he could stop himself, watched as Lucifer's gaze flicked toward him again. The archangel merely blinked again, as his brother's eyes met his, taking in a breath and continuing, "and I don't know what it is, Luci, but I know. You're too quiet, too- too withdrawn, and you've been like that for a while now. And it wasn't like that before. It wasn't like that until- until-" He stumbled a little over his words, a sudden shift in Lucifer's expression catching him off guard, like his brother knew what he was going to say. "Until the Empty…" He trailed off, and stared, struggling to click the pieces together.
Lucifer's expression crumbled, just briefly, lapsing into an expression of frustration and guilt before it froze over again, and his eyes dropped from Michael's, rooted to the ground instead.
… okay, that was it.
Michael huffed out a sigh, not of irritation, but of pain. It hurt him far too much just to see his brother hurting like this, so hesitant and… confused. The tremors in his hands had spread up to his arms, and this time it was visible, and Michael watched his brother shake as he tried to pull himself together, wondering exactly how many signs he had just brushed aside; how many worries he had stifled because of his own fear of approaching Lucifer himself. But he wasn't having any more of that - it was time to man up, grow a pair, as Adam would say. So the archangel twisted his mouth, set his jaw, and took several steps forward - literally and figuratively - as he approached his brother. Lucifer didn't look up, but he seemed aware of Michael's approach, if the tensing of his already-trembling shoulders was any indication.
Stifling the anxiety brewing in his chest, Michael squared his shoulders and reached out for his brother. Lucifer recoiled, if only for a second, finally snapping his gaze up to Michael's face. The archangel kept his hand hovering, searching his gaze cautiously. Lucifer's mouth opened slightly, though he didn't say anything - and he also didn't continue to retreat. So, after only a second of hesitation, Michael steeled himself once again and took one last step forward, crossing the distance between them completely. His hand clasped down over Lucifer's shoulder once again, chest aching as he felt every little tremor that wracked his younger brother's body. But he shook his head, pushing it aside for now, as he tugged the Devil forward and wrapped his arms around him for the first time in far too long, clasping one hand over the back of his little brother's head and gripping the back of his shirt with the other, embracing him gently but firmly.
Lucifer breathed in sharply; Michael felt his chest stop moving as he held his breath, clearly shocked by the sudden contact. The archangel swallowed and shut his eyes, fully prepared to be pushed away - but his brother only stood there, completely rigid and yet trembling, whether too stunned to reject the hug or simply not wanting to, Michael had absolutely no idea; but he was grateful for it all the same, clamping his mouth shut tight as his jaw trembled, swallowing.
"I'm sorry," the archangel breathed, desperate to spit out the all-too familiar words, and get out everything he needed to say before Lucifer had the chance to push him away again, literally or otherwise. He swallowed again, sucking in a breath to continue, "I'm sorry, Luci, for everything. For not being there- for not knowing what's going on- for- for why you think you can't talk to me about it, and not being able to tell you sooner that you could. I-" He paused, listening painfully as his brother inhaled. It was a shaky sound, one that obviously came with a bit of a struggle, and he knew it was taking everything his brother had not to break down right then and there. Michael tightened his grip in response, keeping his eyes shut. "I know this is hard, Lucifer. I know it hurts- I can't- I can't imagine how much it's hurting you. You tried to tell everyone, and nobody listened. And it wasn't fair- it's still not. You went through so much pain for so long, and- and nobody was there. Nobody cared. Nobody believed. So I- I get it- I get it. I wasn't there. Nobody was. And now it's all coming undone- because of him- and it's so much. I can't stand it- so I can't imagine- I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is for you, Lucifer, I…"
"Michael…" Lucifer's voice shook almost as hard as he was, now; Michael could feel him trembling in his arms, and he fought against the urge to pull him closer, falling silent and simply listening to whatever his brother was going to say. But, Lucifer didn't continue; rather, after a few seconds of complete silence, he suddenly shifted - Michael moved back, ready to release him, only to freeze when he felt the Devil's arms wrap around him, careful and reluctant. But once he had done so, he gripped the back of Michael's shirt and simply seemed to refuse to let go; Michael almost melted in relief when he felt Lucifer's face press into his shoulder.
Brick by brick, the walls began to crumble, and Michael felt every second of it.
"Please talk to me," the archangel breathed, resting his head sideways against Lucifer's. A soft, shuddering sigh escaped his brother; he felt the shiver run through the younger archangel, rubbing the Devil's back gently as he continued softly, "I want to be here for you, Luci, but you have to let me. You have to talk to me. You have to tell me what's wrong, and how bad it is, and how much it hurts and how much it sucks because- because I- I know it sucks, brother. I know it hurts. But if you don't talk to me about it, I can't…" He trailed off for a moment. He couldn't make it better, he couldn't help. But he didn't even know if he was capable of doing that at all, anyway. But he knew what he was capable of, so he went with that. "I can't listen, Luci. I can't be there. And I…"
I want to be there. No, that… that didn't sound quite right.
"... I need to be there, Lucifer." Michael finally blinked his eyes open, just as Lucifer suddenly seemed to tense once again in his arms. Again, he half-expected his brother to pull away. But, again, Lucifer surprised him by instead tightening his grip, practically digging his fingers into Michael's back as he exhaled and continued softly, "so- so please stop leaving me out of this."
A moment of silence passed between them. Lucifer's breathing had gone heavy, and stifled, and his grip on Michael had tightened to such an extent that the archangel almost feared he was going to break a rib or something - which he really hoped Adam wouldn't be pissed about when he woke up, but with any luck, he'd be able to heal them before the demon did. But, luckily, before it could reach that point, Lucifer loosened his grip and finally pulled away from him, albeit slowly. Michael hesitated, but he did pull away, as well, looking up at his brother carefully. The Devil didn't meet his gaze immediately; rather, the way his eyes danced around him made it feel like Lucifer was trying to look at anything except him. In those few seconds, Michael's heart sank, and he swallowed hard, ready for the walls to come back up again.
But Lucifer surprised him with a shake of his head, a sharp inhale, and a hesitant, vulnerable glance in his direction. And Michael genuinely thought it might be okay. Until Lucifer opened his mouth. "Michael- Michael, I'm sorry-"
"Luci, no-" Michael shook his head a little. "No, it's okay-"
"No it's not-" Lucifer cut him off with such fierceness, such fury, that Michael almost backed off despite himself. But he stood still, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, as he watched Lucifer screw his eyes shut and recoil from him. His hands rose, shaking so hard that Michael wanted to reach out and grab them, pull his brother into another hug until he stopped trembling. But he stayed where he was, flicking his gaze rapidly from Lucifer's hands to his face, until his brother abruptly reached up to run both hands through his hair. They didn't come back down, gripping the blonde locks tightly as he held both sides of his head, his breathing becoming more and more stifled with each second; finally, Michael managed a step forward, mouth opening, but he didn't get a chance to say anything before Lucifer was speaking again. "It's not okay- I'm not-"
Michael blinked, rapidly, and recoiled again, only because Lucifer was finally opening up to him, and he didn't want to say or do anything that would ruin that. So he fell silent, and just listened.
"I can't do this." Lucifer breathed out sharply, seeming to squeeze his eyes shut a little tighter. He was shaking even harder now, and Michael had to restrain himself from pulling him into a hug, nodding slightly for him to continue even though Lucifer couldn't see him. "Michael, I can't- I've been trying so hard to- to just- pretend it wasn't happening but oh- oh dad it's happening this is really happening and I don't- I don't want to but I can't- I can't stop it- I don't want to stop it but I-" Michael blinked, rapidly realizing his brother was quickly spiraling into… panic.
He didn't think he'd ever seen Lucifer panic. Not like this.
Torn between concern and relief that Lucifer was actually talking to him, Michael shifted back and forth where he stood for a good few seconds before finally walking forward again, reaching out to touch Lucifer's shoulder tentatively. The Devil didn't react to the touch with anything more than a sharp jerk and shake of his head, not shrugging him off but not leaning into the contact. "Slow down…" The archangel tried to soothe, staring at him worriedly. "What's happening?"
Lucifer seemed to visibly falter, Michael's soothing voice and careful words seeming to have the opposite effect on him than the archangel had planned. Michael frowned, staring at him in silence for a few seconds, simply waiting for him to continue; he wasn't going to push too hard yet, he could see how much of a toll this was taking on his brother, so he resigned himself to waiting - something he was fairly good at, to be completely honest - and simply stood there and watched the Devil attempt to regulate his breathing, shaking hands still buried into his hair. When he opened his eyes, Michael was surprised - and yet not - to see tears in them.
"I can't do it." He sounded so miserable, it made Michael's eyes sting a little, himself. "I didn't want you to know- I didn't want you to freak out and worry but- Micha- I-"
"Hey- hey," Michael broke in without quite meaning to, wincing a little almost immediately after he cut his brother off. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he reached out with his other hand, wrapping his fingers around Lucifer's wrist. "You can tell me anything, Luci. It's okay."
Lucifer didn't reply immediately, but he let Michael tug his hand down, away from his hair; let the archangel carefully maneuver the other one down, as well, until Michael was holding both of his hands, which were still trembling harder than the archangel had ever seen before. His little brother shifted, his expression twisting in spasms of pain and terror, before it finally crumbled back into that heartbreaking, ever-present exhaustion that seemed to be weighing the Devil down all the time. "I'm sorry… no, just- let me," he cut Michael's quiet, mumbled reassurances short, and the archangel nodded quickly to his brother, eyes softening. "I'm sorry. Not for all of that- I mean- I am, I am sorry for all of that, but it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does, really-" A slightly hysterical laugh broke through his lips, sending his ramblings to a halt.
Michael's eyebrows furrowed lightly in concern; he dropped one of Lucifer's hands to grab his shoulder instead, offering a soft squeeze to assure his brother that he was still listening.
Lucifer breathed in, and out again, closing his eyes once more. It didn't take him as long to speak again, though, despite his reluctance. "You're right, okay, I- I have been more withdrawn. I've just been trying to keep my distance- to stay out of your way, and keep everyone out of mine- I can't get attached again, Micha, and I can't let you, because I'm not going to be here when it's all over and it's already hard enough knowing what I'm leaving behind, but I can't…"
He didn't continue for a moment, so Michael spoke again, slow and hesitant, around the lump that was forming in his throat, through the freezing stone lodged in his gut. He had practically stopped breathing at this point, and while he was consciously aware of it, he couldn't bring himself to continue again just yet. "... Lucifer," he began slowly, "what are you talking about?"
"The Empty, Micha," Lucifer told him, his voice laced with exhaustion and defeat. "I'm talking about the Empty. I- Cas's deal, I just wanted him to be able to stick around for Jack- because- because Jack needs him, you know? The kid needs him. But he doesn't need me. Nobody needs me-" Michael felt his grip tighten on Lucifer's shoulder, his reassurances dying on his tongue before they even had the chance to surface when Lucifer continued, "you have Adam and Jack has Cas and Gabriel has porn stars and everyone's going to be okay, but I'm not- I can't be there, Michael- I can hardly be here now. With you. With them. It's so hard- it's…"
There was so much to focus on at once. Michael's head spun, struggling to grasp onto something to register, but the information had just completely sent him spiraling. He tightened his grip on Lucifer's shoulder even further, somewhat unconsciously now. "Lucifer… you…" Not knowing whether to be concerned or horrified, or both, he went somewhat… blank for a second. "You didn't- tell me you didn't…"
Lucifer shook his head slightly, not saying a word, and Michael exhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing past the intense pain that exploded in his chest like a bomb. "I'm sorry."
"No- no- no. Just- just give me a second…"
He felt horrible, needing a second at all, but Lucifer didn't say a word in protest. Simply faltered, eyes drifting shut, and Michael stood still with his hand still clasped over Lucifer's shoulder, maybe a little too tightly, as if he was afraid his brother was going to be wrenched away from him at any second. And, who knew? Maybe he would. He hadn't even given much thought to Castiel's deal - something he felt increasingly guilty about - but his focus had, more or less, been shifted to Adam and his Father. Of course it popped up every now and again, but even Dean hadn't wanted to think about it, and Castiel didn't offer anymore information on the subject than necessary, so it had somewhat retreated to the back of Michael's mind for the time being. But it wasn't hard to piece together exactly what Lucifer had done here, giving himself in their younger brother's place… it was such a Lucifer thing to do, and yet not, but somehow, a little bit of pride managed to sprinkle its way in with the pain, and a hollow smile curled at his lips.
He really was so good. Michael could kill himself for not seeing it sooner.
But, he shook his head, and forced himself to focus. The archangel finally breathed in, Lucifer's words hitting him hard yet again. He felt his eyes sting, a lump rising in his throat, trying to choke him out of his misery. And for a moment, he almost let it swallow him whole - knowing he had to feel whatever he was feeling, that he couldn't just push it down, and push it down, like his brother did - and like Adam did, sometimes, or at least like he used to do. Michael ran his tongue over his lips, breathing out and then in again. It was hard to figure out what was concerning enough to address first, but he managed to focus on what he might be able to fix. Or at least, what he might be able to help, if only slightly. "... why would you think I don't need you?"
"Oh, come on-" A laugh, choked and forced and shaky, broke through Lucifer's lips. Michael blinked his eyes open, knowing the sound was more of a release of tension than anything. So he just stared, watching his brother, until Lucifer opened his eyes and glanced up at him. The Devil seemed to tense, seeing how intently Michael was watching him. "You know… you…"
Michael only stared at him, softening slightly under Lucifer's confused gaze. He really thought no one needed him - hell, Michael was sure he thought nobody even wanted him around, and that hurt more than anything. He kicked himself again, mentally; he should have been there… but maybe it wasn't too late, at least… at least for now, and Michael was going to try his best to do right by him this time. "Of course we need you, Luci, I…" The archangel trailed off, running his tongue over his lips, trying to figure out how to say exactly what needed to be said here.
"For what?" Lucifer practically snapped, but this time Michael only stared back at him. He didn't flinch, he didn't even blink; he just stared, eyebrows slowly furrowing together. He related, far too greatly, to the feelings of inadequacy his brother was displaying, to let it go on now.
"Lucifer- even if we don't- even if we don't have a reason-" Michael shook his head a little, eyebrows furrowing. "Adam and I- we wouldn't be the same without you, I know for a fact. Like when we thought you were dead, Luci, that was hard for us. Especially for me. You were…"
For a moment, he hesitated on the word. He remembered how weak and helpless he had felt, hearing of his brother's death - how angry at Dean he had been, and how desperate for a purpose again he had felt… losing Lucifer had just been another string cut, and he remembered the lost feelings all too well. "... Luci, you were dead… I thought you were dead," the archangel breathed, dropping his gaze from his brother with a frown. "And it hurt, and it- I was so angry at everything and- and scared and desperate to make things right again, even though I couldn't-" He stopped, swallowed, and sighed. "It was torture. Worse than anything I've ever felt."
Lucifer didn't respond immediately, but his disbelieving expression smoothed out into something akin to guilt - or grief, maybe, though that hadn't been Michael's intention. Still, the Devil was listening to him, so the archangel reminded himself to just be grateful for that for the time being as he drew in a breath and continued carefully, "and Adam didn't show it very well at the time, but he was just as lost. He relied on you so much in the Cage before. You were there for him before I was even there for him, and he hasn't forgotten that. I know you guys have your moments, but he still cares about you. You're his family, too." At this, Lucifer's expression shifted, softened, somewhat, but his gaze didn't quite meet Michael's yet. "We do need you."
Lucifer breathed out sharply, still staring down. He shifted slightly where he stood, mouth twisting sharply into a frown, but his shaking had calmed considerably, much to Michael's relief. He must have gotten through to his brother, if only a little. "Micha, I just-" The Devil paused, breathing in again, and continued cautiously, "I just want to do something good for once, man. Just- I just wanna be something good, you know?" And Michael had to nod- because he did know, he knew a little too well. "Even if it doesn't last long- even if I have to-"
He stopped, then, seeming unable to continue. He finally moved again, raising one hand to rub over his mouth, and Michael finally loosened his grip on the Devil's shoulder. He understood. All too well, he understood that, if nothing else. Hell, he had been desperate to change after he'd heard of Lucifer's death, desperate to be something better, to make things right for him, since he couldn't make things right with him. That was what had led him to nearly getting himself and Adam killed - which had led to their first 'fight', which had led to him realizing exactly how much the demon had cared about him. But Michael had been hurting so much - blinded by grief and fury and pain, and his desperation to do something good for once, to defy his Father… the archangel sighed and looked up at his younger brother, a frown twisting at his lips.
"My son doesn't need me, Michael," Lucifer finally continued after a few seconds. "And you, and Gabe and Adam, you'll do fine without me. You will-" He insisted, as Michael opened his mouth to protest. "Hell, Micha, you have. I know it was hard, and I'm sorry, but you- I can't-" He just looked frustrated now, at his own inability to speak, and Michael ran his tongue over his lips and shook his head a little as he struggled to think of something to say. "I'm just- I'm not… good."
Michael blinked and stared at him again, somewhat incredulously this time. He couldn't be serious - here he stood, ready to give up his life for Castiel. For everyone. Here he stood, struggling to break past everything their Father had built up in front of him, every wall and barricade that Chuck had put up just to block him out. And here he was, insisting he wasn't good. Insisting he didn't matter. And, fuck, if Michael couldn't relate to it - but he was fighting to push past that, to insist, not to others, but to himself, that he did matter. He would matter. He wasn't going to be chained down by Chuck anymore, he wasn't going to be what he made him. But it seemed like Lucifer was still having a hard time grasping that… and why wouldn't he? That was his entire existence. Michael knew how hard it was to just understand.
"... But you have a chance to change it," the archangel managed to reply after a few seconds, and Lucifer finally glanced up at him. "Lucifer, you have a chance to- to change everything. To prove everyone else wrong- to prove Father wrong-" He paused for a moment, running his tongue over his lips, and took in a deep breath. "Prove me wrong, Luci. You always wanted to."
Lucifer's expression twisted again, pinching up in a mixture of pain, frustration and disbelief. "That's different, Michael, I- I'm just-" He shook his head. "I'm not ready to change."
Michael exhaled softly, suddenly pulling back and letting his hand drop from Lucifer's shoulder. He was finally starting to get somewhat exasperated - not at his brother, but, rather, at himself. Just when he thought he might be starting to get through to Lucifer, the Devil retorted with something even stronger, and left Michael speechless again, scrambling for reassurances he wasn't even fully prepared to give. He wished he knew what to say. Lucifer would know what to say. Adam would know what to say - hell, he always did… Because he just said it. No hesitation, no sugarcoating. He told you how it was with supreme confidence and he didn't regret it for a second. And that was enough to almost always knock sense into the archangel.
Maybe it'd be enough to knock some sense into Lucifer.
But Adam was asleep, tucked away in the dark corners of their mind. And as much as Michael wanted to prod him awake, he hesitated. Of course, he planned on letting Adam know everything, from beginning to end, and he was sure the demon would have a few things to say to Lucifer himself - but Michael couldn't just step back again, let Lucifer slip away, and leave his best friend to handle it for him. That wasn't how their relationship worked, and if Michael was going to step up and do this, then he had to actually step up and do this. He had to find a way to get through to Lucifer on his own, to break down the last barrier between them, to pull out the last brick and let the wall crumble before their eyes. If he couldn't do that… Michael took a deep breath, shifted, closed his eyes, and nodded slightly to himself. He loved his brother. But it was time to take a different approach - soft words and gentle reassurances weren't working. So, he was going to speak Lucifer's language - Adam's language - and hope he understood.
"Nobody changes because they're ready to change, Lucifer," the archangel spoke bluntly after a moment, not quite knowing where he was going with this, but continuing on all the same. He didn't lack the kindness he had displayed prior, though - no, there was no hostility or anger in his tone, but he did speak much more firmly. Blinking his eyes open, he spared a glance up at his younger brother. Lucifer simply stared at him, blinking rapidly in surprise. "I wasn't ready," Michael admitted, taking a deep breath. "I wasn't ready to fall- I wasn't ready to face Father again. I wasn't even ready to leave the Cage in the first place, brother. A part of me didn't even want to - because I was scared of it. Because I was scared of how much would- would change when we left, and I just wasn't ready for it." He paused, meeting Lucifer's gaze. He wasn't sure if he was getting to him, but his younger brother was simply staring at him through wide eyes, looking as if he was hanging on to every word. And so, Michael continued. "Change is scary. It's- It's terrifying. But nobody's ready for it, Luci. Nobody's ever just ready to have their life flip around on them like that. But if you don't- if you don't-" He hesitated, just for a moment.
"If you don't let yourself- move with it, and- and accept how you feel and let yourself feel it, then you're just going to be stuck, and confused, and lost and scared. And yes, it sucks ass, but at least you're not alone." Michael softened, reaching out once again to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Lucifer's gaze didn't move from his. "You don't have to be, at least. Not anymore, Luci. We're changing, too. And we're not ready either. So we need each other, more than ever."
Lucifer gazed back at him in silence. He was trembling again, though it didn't seem to be from panic this time, but from something else entirely. And Michael watched, eyes growing wide with alarm, as tears flickered to life in his brother's eyes, rising and bubbling up and threatening to spill. The archangel stiffened, torn between recoiling or pulling him into another hug - and he was just about ready to go ahead and do the latter when Lucifer finally reacted; the Devil moved, shifted, and suddenly leaned back on his feet to bring his hands up to his face, rubbing his thumbs across his eyes slowly and carefully and shaking his head with a huff. Michael paused, releasing his grip on Lucifer's shoulder with a frown. "See, that right there-" His younger brother's voice broke slightly as he spoke, but he continued on, "that's what I meant when I said you can make anyone want to be better, you bitch."
Michael, despite himself, managed to huff out a laugh at that. Mostly because, that was it; and he felt it as the last wall crumbled down, leaving nothing but open space between them. And, oh, he took the chance as soon as he could. "Yeah…" The archangel breathed, closing his eyes. "Doesn't the thought of it make it worth a try, though, brother…?"
"I guess," Lucifer responded, albeit somewhat hesitantly. "But still- it's… it's still happening, Micha. I can't stop it- you can't stop it…" He sighed through his teeth, looking down.
Michael hesitated slightly, watching his brother for a moment. "Well- I- you know, maybe that's not entirely true," he said lightly, mostly just trying to make him smile now. "You know, if we get Gabriel and Cas in on it, maybe we can intimidate the Empty or something. Kind of a 'you take Luci, you take all of us' deal, and then we can just sit there and annoy the hell out of it." His attempts worked, as Lucifer gasped, snorted, and then simply burst into laughter. Michael's lips twitched slightly, the rest of the tension draining from him as he watched his younger brother. The archangel simply fell silent, listening to the sound of his laughter - a genuine laugh, one he had missed a lot more than he had even known. He closed his eyes for a moment, even managing a small smile, but his worries soon turned in another direction. Still, he allowed his brother a few more moments of mirth before he brought it up. "Are you going to tell them?"
Lucifer's laughter faded; Michael blinked his eyes open to look up at him, met with an uncertain gaze before the Devil dropped it again, looking toward the ground with a faint grimace. "I guess I should now. You know, anyway. I just- jeez…" He huffed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. Michael fell silent, running his tongue over his lips, then spoke again carefully.
"I could tell them," he offered quietly, "if you want."
His brother's hesitance only lasted a good few seconds before the Devil suddenly relaxed, shoulders drooping, and his tired blue eyes flickered back and forth between Michael's for a few more seconds before he looked away with a sigh. "That'd be easier, wouldn't it?" He muttered, but, to Michael's surprise, he ended up shaking his head. "No- if they're going to know, they should hear it from me," he grunted. "I guess you're gonna tell Adam, though."
Michael nodded without hesitation. He didn't keep anything from Adam - didn't and wouldn't, and judging by his brother's resigned sigh, the younger archangel knew better than to ask him to. "Of course. When he wakes up- he's still sleeping." He paused a little, biting back a frown, and pushed his concerns away. Of course Adam was tired - Michael wasn't too sure how he wasn't, to be completely honest, but he wasn't about to complain about it. The demon would be awake soon, and Michael had to be patient- and get them out of Stull Cemetery before it happened. Because even if he wasn't going to hide any of this from Adam, he certainly didn't want the demon to have to wake up to this. Michael rolled his shoulders back and sighed.
"Alright, well, at least give me some warning before he punches me," Lucifer finally said, sounding more or less resigned to his fate, and Michael couldn't help but snort out a chuckle. Though he doubted Adam would punch Lucifer for this - though he was fully prepared to have to hold the demon back himself just in case - he knew Adam wasn't going to take the news lightly. But that was just something that Michael had to prepare himself for, and Lucifer already seemed to be doing just that. It was going to be hard - on everyone involved. But he knew the demon would want to know. He was already worried about Lucifer, despite not wanting to admit it.
"Of course," Michael murmured, lips twitching into a smile. "I'll try my best."
With that, Lucifer managed to crack a smile of his own, though it didn't seem like he was putting much effort into it. But, Michael couldn't help but be slightly relieved - at least he wasn't faking anymore, trying to hide it from him. The oldest archangel relaxed, letting the rest of the tension in his shoulders drain away, and Lucifer shifted back slightly as he did the same. He had gotten through - they had broken through, the walls crumbled, his brother's mask gone. Michael chose to focus on that for the moment, instead of the deal. That could be addressed properly when he filled Adam in - but for the moment, he needed to remain somewhat positive, for his sake, as well as for his brother's. "You wanna head back?" He asked after a moment, glancing around.
"Yeah." Lucifer sighed a little, and Michael spread his wings out, half-expecting Lucifer to do the same. But his brother stepped toward him, and seemed to hesitate, which gave the oldest archangel pause; he looked up at his brother, expressing his concern with no more than a blink and a worried frown, but Lucifer didn't quite meet his gaze yet. Instead, he swept his blue eyes around the cemetery and inhaled through his teeth before finally turning back to Michael - rather abruptly. Then, just as quickly, before Michael had the chance to question him, Lucifer pressed forward and reached out, grabbing him by the sleeve and tugging him forward into a hug.
It didn't last long - barely long enough for Michael to lift his arms to hug him back - before the Devil pulled away again. But not before he had the chance to mumble, just barely loud enough for the oldest archangel to hear, "thanks, Micha." - though he didn't give Michael proper time to respond to that, either, because the moment he had pulled away, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but a familiar whoosh of beating wings and a gentle, stirring breeze that settled only seconds later. Michael stayed still, holding his arms up for a few seconds longer, and blinked.
His expression settled rather quickly, shock rapidly deteriorating as he finally registered what had just happened. And the archangel couldn't help but smile a little, wrapping his arms around himself for a moment. It wasn't like it used to be - like a shield, curling in on himself to protect himself from everything else around him. This time it felt more like a hug, itself, and he allowed the warmth to buzz around in his chest for a good few seconds before managing to spread his wings out again, stretching them out as far as they could go - until they started aching - and letting out a soft, content sigh through his teeth. Another bridge mended; another wrong made right; another reconciliation, and this one somehow felt that much sweeter.
Michael took one last glance around and smiled before turning away once again, flapping his wings and following after his brother with a soft whoosh.