The frown on Raphael's face was deep as he watched the Winchester brother's fight their battles, separated and without the other every blow caused fear to spike in the archangel. Dean took an impossibly strong hit and he found his fingers twitching to reach out, help, protect, save. He knew the abomination was whispering taunts, half-truths, maybe even out right lies, but it's evil couldn't reach him in Heaven. A burn ached in him to tare the monster apart and protect Dean. A shifting of focus and he was watching as Sam struggled in the grasp of the demon he'd been fighting for too long. Unprepared and alone Sam buckled under the demons power; forgetting, still riding the high of crushing Demons in the grasp of his fist Raphael could not determine, but Sam was losing. His hands clenched into fists and he cursed his brother and his decisions and everything that was the archangel Michael.
Suddenly the creature and demon were no more in a blinding light and Michael was at his side. "Now," Michael fixed a stern look on him, "all the brethren know your disgust with me."
Raphael felt ashamed, "my apologies brother. I-I didn't realize.." he shook his head.
"That you were allowing your thoughts to run wild and you cursed my name a dozen times." Michael turned to watch the confused brothers. "As if," he sighed, "morale wasn't low enough."
"Again," Raphael placed a hand on his weary brother's shoulder, "I apologize and I will make sure the brethren understand that those thoughts were.." He sighed, "just thoughts." Raphael was acutely aware how much his brother was changing, how much the war and the resulting aftermath was beginning to wear him down. He could only pray that Michael would seek out one of them, and a selfish part of him wanted to be the one sought, and finally talk about all that was happening. But also Raphael knew his brother and knew that it would be a long time coming before he felt he could speak to any of them. Michael would forever feel like it was his responsibility to be the rock in their storm.
Michael looked at Raphael, "do you miss it?" It only took a glance at Michael's mind to see what he missed. He couldn't help though in that glance seeing that there were many parts that Michael kept locked away now.
In an age so long ago that Raphael had a hard time remembering it clearly, when Michael, Raphael and Gabriel were the only ones and they were what could have been called best friends. When they laughed and frolicked, he chuckled, "sometimes." Raphael pulled his brother close, not caring for once how much Michael hated physical contact. "I miss how much time Father spent with us then. I miss how we had no cares. Before all of our other brothers, before Lucifer became corrupt. Of course I miss it." Raphael kissed Michael's temple and his older brother pulled from his embrace.
"I have.. to go." Michael was gone and Raphael sighed. There were many things he missed.
"That was quite the show you put on for us," Gabriel replaced Michael at his side. "Some colorful language you possess brother."
Raphael felt his wings prickle, a common feeling these days whenever his brother Gabriel was near him. He thought it had something to do with the increased teasing coming for the usually stoic archangel. "I do not need your opinion on the matter Gabriel." He looked quickly but if his brother had snickered Gabriel's face was composed when he looked at him.
"You would be wise not to piss Michael off. We still haven't found our traitor." Gabriel's face was a mask of indifference and if Raphael had had blood it would've been boiling.
"You do not speak of Michael like that," he hissed in Gabriel's face. "Do you understand me?" he was gone before he could do something truly regretful, like start a fight with Gabriel. If his anger had not been so over whelming he would have not missed Gabriel smirking and chuckling lightly, somethings were just too easy to do, flitting across his mind.
Michael was preparing for his journey to earth when his sister, as she wanted to be referred to now, stood beside him. "Be gentle with them," she said, "they need kindness and soft word."
Michael ignored her at first, there was a common ache between his eyes. "I know how to handle a few mortal men." He said to his sister and hoped he sounded no where near how tired he felt. The idea that these two mortal men were causing a headache in the archangel was simply laughable.
"They are not just any normal men," Raguel pointed out the obvious.
The brothers made him grit his teeth and he was finding what the phrase 'to bite ones tongue' meant; yes, he knew all too well that these were not normal men. "I assure you Raguel my intentions are not to upset them." They frustrated him, angered him and even on their better days, amused him. And he did truly want to understand them better and he how no intentions of purposely trying to hurt them.
"I'm just trying to help." She frowned and touched his arm softly and it took much willpower not to wrench from her hand. "Michael do not push yourself so hard. You are not alone."
"I must go," he pulled from her and left without another word.
Michael knew that it's the love they have for each other. It twisted something inside him, those memories he had of when he and his own brothers had that love for one another. Before brothers began to fall and wars were fought. He didn't remember the beginning as one single piece of time. He remembered emotion; love, learning, obeying, love, lonely. He'd barely recognized lonely when Raphael and Gabriel were created and they had all of Heaven to themselves. Slowly more and more angels were created and even more after Lucifer fell.
He stood there in their respective dreams and mostly he felt sadness for there was an emotion, a burning need, that he could not understand. He doubted he ever would. How they loved the angel's they dreamed of. It was almost torture to wake them, lecture them, he wished he didn't have to but a warning needed given.
"Brothers," he cleared his throat. The scenes before him changed quickly; Dean's taking shape with ease as Sam's struggled. Still Michael was impressed, Dean's first visit had been awkward.
"C'mon Mike that was dirty," Dean was looking between him and his brother.
"I am sure with your injuries a break would suffice," to prove his point he made them feel their pains.
"Okay okay," Dean rubbed at his shoulder where a bullet had grazed him, "point made. What gives Michael?" Michael looked between the two brothers, two men given impossible tasks and they had accomplished them with strength, resilience and faith. "Dude?" Michael snapped from his musing annoyed with himself that he'd allowed his mind to drift.
"My apologies brothers," Dean muttered something about him definitely acting strange. Michael ignored the comment and went on with why he was there. "Why would you split up?" he questioned. "Do you not see the dangers around you?" They frustrated him so much.
"We're just trying to get things done more quickly," Sam braved.
"Do you think it an accident you two were put together here?" It seemed forever ago, and it probably was, that his Father had told him the story of the Winchester brother's who one day would be called on to save the world.
"What?" Dean looked at his brother.
"You two come from an incredible bloodline, you would be wise to remember that." He could still hear Raphael in his head telling him that he had no confidence in the brother's and their abilities. Too many arguments with his brother about strength, faith and that the brother's would have kept their respective angel's safe.
"C'mon Mike you didn-" Something in Michael's eyes was cause enough to groan and he felt guilty for interrupting Dean's intimate moment to appease himself.
"I am sorry and technically I have not waken you." Sam let out a humorous snort but Michael did not find the humor in his words.
Dean fell back with a growl, "then get out of my dreams." The bed and Castiel were back in the blink of an eye and Michael removed Sam and himself from the dream.
With Dean gone the dreamscape flickered before they found themselves in the childhood home of the Winchester brothers. Michael suppressed a shudder, too many times he'd witnessed the tragedy that had happen here. Every time hoping he'd be able to see a way that it could have been different. Torturing himself with things that could never be changed, he wonders what his brethren would think of that.
Sam stood there rubbing at his neck looking confused and lost and the only thing keeping Michael from leaving was that he could see that the young man needed to talk. Michael was not like Raphael, he could not read a humans body language just as easily as their mind, but he new the desperate look in Sam's eyes.
"Dean did not see me as you do," he hoped it would ease some of Sam's confusion and embarrassment.
"Why the hell do you.. you.. look like that?" Sam asked gesturing wildly to the 'body' that Michael had appeared to him as.
"The subconscious chooses the vessel," he answered easily.
"How does Dean see you?" Sam asked quickly.
"It is different each time." Sam fell heavily onto the couch behind him and Michael too took a seat, surprise came to Sam's eyes but he did not say anything.
"You," Sam rubbed his face roughly, "you look like my dad."
"Then think of me as someone else," Michael was amazed by his patience, only moments ago the brothers had been grating on his nerves. Maybe it had something to do with the naked emotions playing over the younger Winchester's face.
Sam closed his eyes, a human tick that Michael did not understand all too well, but when he opened them again Michael still sat there as John Winchester. "I guess.." he trailed off helplessly.
"You have something on your mind," Michael stated in hope of distraction Sam from the situation.
The flood gate opened and Sam rushed out, "how is Azrael, is he alright, does he have nightmares?"
Michael held up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions, "your angel is healing." He wished that he could feel something for lying so easily to the mortal, but Sam needed to focus and worrying about Azrael's well being was not going to help that. Sam's entire face lit up at the word 'your' and Michael prayed that he was making the correct decisions.
Sam glanced away and Michael knew that he was not done questioning the archangel's ord-suggestions. "Shouldn't we be focusing more on the gates?"
"Hunters are much like angels, Samuel, they have been around for countless centuries and they learn more and more with each passing generation. They are vigilantly watching for Demon activity and none of them are ignorant to the fact that the apocalypse has been diverted for now. My cursed Brothers have few options open to them and they know that moving with out plan will only result in defeat, hopefully ultimate defeat." Sam was quiet after Michael's words and the angel would wait him out because he knew that the young mortal was still weighed down by something.
Finally he said, "I want to trust you, I do," he looked at Michael pleadingly, "but it feels like you are being purposely unhelpful." In that instant Michael knew that it wasn't Sam's need to close gates and keep demons from pouring on Earth that kept him questioning, but his experience with other angels and the lies and deceit they had shown the brothers.
He was surprised by the sadness this revelation brought him. "I wish that I could convince you that I am not like the angel's you have been tortured by. I wish you had never experienced such blinding hatred from my brethren." More proof that the angels were failing their father.
"I do know you are not like-like her." Sam's voice began to tremble, "I'm scared Michael. I remember that day, I remember the feel of her blade cutting away my skin." Sam rubbed absently at the marred flesh on his shoulder. "I can still feel her taking Azrael's thoughts," he shuddered voilently.
Michael was next to Sam in a blink, hand awkwardly on his shoulder, right above the scarred flesh. "I can take away those memories."
"No," it was a shaky reply and Michael was going to ask again, "no I don't want that. I-I.." Sam sighed and leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees, and head heavy in his hands. "I don't know why, but I think they'll be important later."
"As you wish," he moved his hand around the broad shoulders and it spoke volumes when the young man leaned into the embrace. Michael did not hear his sobs but he felt as the strong shoulders underneath him began to shake. He wrapped his other arm around the front of the hunters body and Sam's hands came up to grip tightly around Michael's bicep. "It's okay," he said softly. "It'll be okay."
Sam's head fell onto the familiar shoulder and Michael suspected that this here was why he was in the body of John Winchester, Sam needed this comfort. Something stirred in Michael, fear, that he was doing this wrong. Raphael was the one who understood humans, who comforted souls lost and confused from their sudden entrance into Heaven. He could do nothing but hum soothing sounds and rock them gently. Slowly he allowed his wings, as weak as they were in this dreamscape, to come forward. He knew that Dean always took great comfort in their embrace and he hoped the younger brother would be no different. Sam startled at the first touch but stilled immediately. The response was quick, the tension drained from Sam's shoulders and his sobs become more quiet before they stopped all together. He rested into the embrace more fully.
Sam's voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet comfort it nearly startled Michael. "Does God hear me when I pray?"
He hesitated just a moment before, "sometimes even I do not know if Father hears me pray, but Sam, I do," he said tenderly. "I have heard your pray since you were just a boy. You are a man of staggering faith, something to be admired." He draped his wings more fully over the calming mortal. "I also know that God very well may not hear us, but he loves you Sam. This I am certain of."
Sam sat up suddenly and wiped at his eyes before giving Michael a shy smile. "Thank you Michael." He returned the smile, a strange feeling indeed, and went to stand but Sam's hand on his arm stopped him. "Would you-I mean if you don't- Could you stay?"
Michael returned to his original seat across from Sam and the boy stretched out. "I will stay until you fall asleep," Sam smiled and Michael refrained from pointing out that technically Sam was already asleep.
The young hunter quickly fell off to sleep but not before mumbling, "goodnight Dad." Michael stood and walked to the mortal and placed his hand along the marred flesh and carefully healed it before concentrating on the scar along his neck, finally he healed the aches that did not reach Sam in sleep before leaving him to his dreams.
He went to Dean and found him sleeping now with his angel wrapped tightly in his arms and Michael healed his wounds too. "I am sorry brother Winchester's, I shall try to not fail you any more." He returned home, intent on apologizing to his brother for the rude, uncalled for actions before he had left.
I am not happy with this chapter, but I made a promise to the muse to stop being so difficult and this was how it wanted Michael to come across; and *totally reluctant* I guess it does know where it's going. I also wanted to show that even an angel like Michael is being changed by what's happening around them.
The scene between Michael and Sam was a big reason why I wanted the subconcsious to choose the way the angel appears to our boys. I wasn't sure when but I wanted this scene, of course in my head it was a bit different, but cookies-crumble. There was a lot less 'baaww' and a lot more yelling. :)
Hope you enjoyed!