Title: the used-to-be warriors
Fandom: NCIS/Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich.
Warnings: takes place early in season 3 for NCIS; spoilers for everything aired in Supernatural
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 290
Point of view: third
You can't hide much longer, brother, Michael whispers in his ear. You've survived too many things to be a man. Our time is approaching; soon, my vessel will be ready. You must stand with me.
No, Tony replies, turning his face away. I left all that behind when I crafted this form.
Azrael, Michael says quietly. We cannot succeed without you. If you were not one of us, you'd be long dead—remember that.
Tony knows the words are true: human lungs wouldn't have lasted through the plague and a human couldn't have outrun that bomb. Without wings, he'd have died while McGee and Kate rushed to safety.
You can return, Michael cajoles, hands warm and familiar on Tony's skin. Tony still refuses to look at him.
I will offer you one more chance, on the eve of battle, Michael says coldly, pulling away. Know that there are but two sides to this war, mine and Lucifer's. You are with me, Azrael, or you are with him.
I understand, Michael, Tony murmurs. And I wish you well.
Tony woke shivering and burrowed deeper into his blankets. That dream had long since become tiresome, and he wondered if there were anyone but a shrink he could talk to about it. He resolved to keep ignoring it until it went away. Anyway, it probably just meant he had delusions of grandeur—why else would the Archangel Michael keep visiting and practically begging Tony to stand by his side at the End of Days?
It didn't matter. Tony still had a job to do, so he might as well get up and head to the office.
He made a mental note to look up Azrael; it was the first time Michael had used the name.