Summary: Now that Michael has a better idea of what his situation is, he and Lucifer have a frank discussion about what comes next.

The sun is up, Lucifer thought absentmindedly as he blinked awake.

He felt its warmth coming in through the window and the softness surrounding him. He was lying on the floor amid a nest of blankets and pillows. The world around him still had a dreamlike quality to it as he tried to decipher why he was on the ground. He hadn't found himself slumbering on the floor since he stopped hosting orgies. He thought back and then remembered his nightmare.

He hadn't dreamt of the Fall in a while, he was probably due for it. The specter of pain and fire never fully went away. It faded from time to time, but it always came back, especially if he was feeling vulnerable and he could admit that he had not been at his best lately, with finding out the truth about what happened between Michael and Dad, trying and failing to help his brother heal and most recently having Michael begin shunning him.

His twin wouldn't speak to him, had moved to a different room to avoid him, was no longer receptive to his touches or his care, he had even returned the feather bracelet Lucifer had given him. He had done everything he could think of to try and bridge the gap short of using a Divine Command, but his twin was stubborn when he wanted to be. Lucifer, being who he was, couldn't help but internalize it. He figured Michael must've finally caught wise about the situation they were in. Lucifer could try to smother him with as much affection as he wanted, it didn't change the fact that he hadn't seen the truth, that he hadn't protected Michael from their father. He had believed the worst of his brother, not realizing it was a fabrication of Dad's, he hadn't seen the barely concealed hurt and pain as anything other than what Michael deserved, he had told him to his face that his physical impediments were a result of his own envy and greed self-actualizing itself. To top it all off, he had cut Michael's wings off and banished him to Hell. Then, he showed up out of nowhere after centuries had already passed downstairs with an apology, a bath and some bandages. Had he truly thought that would be enough? Did he really think Michael would forget everything that had happened? He deserved Michael's cold shoulder.

His actions against his twin made him feel as low as when he had killed Uriel, lower even. Uriel had had a choice, Michael hadn't. With Lucifer playing into Father's game, he may as well have killed Michael. He was there physically, but his spirit was broken and that was Lucifer's fault as much as it was their father's. So, it was no surprise that Lucifer had dreamt of the Fall. He had believed himself to be a monster then, unworthy of love, cast out from his family for his indiscretions and abandoned to burn in a fire of his own sins. He felt just as vile and pitiful now as he did then.

Lucifer was not expecting to wake from his nightmare to see Michael standing over his bed, frozen in Terror with his eyes glazed over and sightless, the shadows around him sharp and the darkest black, alerting him that Michael was absorbing all of his Fear and likely couldn't release himself from the vision it induced. That had made Lucifer feel even worse. This was the only time Michael reached out to him and Lucifer had gone and thrown more trauma at his doorstep. But Michael surprised him.

Stewing in his own self-hatred and loathing as well as his Fear that he was going to end up painfully alone again, he didn't notice the shift in Michael. He was cautious and anticipating heartbreak when Michael removed his fingers from where they had been running through his twin's hair in a bid to offer what comfort he could, even though he himself was hardly better off. He was certain Michael was going to stand up and walk out the door, that they were going to return to the unbearable heavy silence that had become their new norm. Instead, Michael pulled him forward and embraced him.

He had tensed up in shock, not expecting the action. Michael was... hugging him? He was hugging him of his own volition. A hug that Michael had initiated, not one he was flinching from or shaking with fright during. The embrace was loose, like Michael was not used to being the one doing the hugging, but it was warm and Michael didn't seem like he was afraid. Most importantly, he had decided to stay. He didn't leave Lucifer alone, which he was well in his rights to do. And Lucifer...

He needed this. He was doing his damnedest not to show it, but the Fall had never ceased to be a source of Fear for him, even after all these eons. He still remembered it with perfect clarity and he still feared that it would happen again someday, even now that he sat upon the throne of Heaven. Every time he remembered it, every time he dreamed of it, it was like falling all over again. But this time, Michael was here and he was comforting him like Lucifer had wanted all those years ago. He had felt emotion clogging his throat and swelling in his chest as he melted deeper into the hug, his body boneless and exhausted.

Michael was not well, he was injured and not healing. Lucifer felt selfish placing this burden on him, but Michael held him tighter and bore his weight easily and without complaint.

"It's alright, I'm here," Michael had said, rubbing circles into Lucifer's back.

Lucifer had let out a humorless chuckle both at recognizing words he had been saying to Michael for the past month and for the irony of Michael being here now to provide comfort from the memory of the Fall when he was so devastatingly absent during the Fall itself. The chuckles didn't last long before turning to whimpers and then to sobs. Embarrassment welled in him at the display. He was supposed to be the strong one. Michael was broken and damaged and he needed support, he needed someone to hold him up, to guide him to some sense of normalcy. That person was meant to be Lucifer, and here he was crying like a child over something that happened ages ago and seeking comfort from Michael, whom he had wronged.

Michael had gone to pull away, but even if this moment brought Lucifer shame, he couldn't let it go so easily and he quickly latched onto his brother, wrapping his arms around him tightly to prolong the embrace. Michael allowed it, pulling him closer and murmuring words of comfort. After a moment, Michael let out a watery sigh and he rested his head on top of Lucifer's. He felt weak for allowing it, but for the moment, he needed Michael and Michael needed him and it was enough.

He didn't remember exactly when he fell asleep. He vaguely recalled waking up when Michael left their embrace to get pillows and sheets off the bed, creating this cocoon for them to rest in, reminiscent of their fledgling nest. Once that task was done, his twin rejoined him and coaxed him back to sleep. Lucifer had nuzzled into his chest before doing just that. Now though, he realized he was alone.

He sat up quickly, looking around the room before spotting Michael by the windowsill, watching the sunrise.

He was as still as a statue, the only movement he made was his soft breathing. The light from the sun they had created together bathed him in its rays like a halo. He couldn't help but think of those centuries they had spent together in the Void. He remembered the look of awe and wonder on Mikael's face every time Samael had lit a star ablaze. He remembered the glow playing across his shining eyes and bright smile.

They were so young then, everything was new and pure. It was just them against an empty universe. They knew they had their siblings, but the twins had always gravitated to each other, wanting to be together, wanting to impress and delight each other with their creations whether it was Lucifer inventing different types of stars and planets for Michael or Michael making more moons than Lucifer knew what to do with or the most impressive black holes and supernovae. They had wanted to share all of it with each other and were hardly interested in anyone else. Their siblings had accused them of being blasphemous for not turning that devotion towards their parents first and foremost and narcissistic for desiring to spend so much time with their mirrored self. It had never occurred to them that the twins saw each other past the superficial in a way that no one else did, not even their parents nor had they ever appreciated the differences between the twins, at least until they wanted to use those differences against them.

In the end, that hadn't mattered. Lucifer had stopped seeing Michael at one point just as their siblings had. As much as he would like to blame their father for that, he knew that he was not faultless. It had paid quite well to be the Lightbringer and the Angel of Desire before the Rebellion. Their family's attention was fickle at best, they didn't truly know him, but it hadn't mattered. They stroked his ego and that was enough. He had grown vain and self-absorbed the longer he was showered with the affection and adulation of the other denizens of the Silver City to the point where he began to believe he was truly the most beautiful and strongest and worthy among the Host. It didn't hurt that he had grown quite jealous of Michael's elevated status after the wars with Chaos and the ego brushing only made it all the worse.

After a while, he couldn't see beyond himself and his selfish desires. He couldn't see Michael anymore, not as he truly was. He ceased to appreciate and acknowledge Michael's personality and unique traits, the things that made him him; he began to view him as merely an extension of himself, the darker twin that was not as social or daring or dazzling. A shadow-self that lurked around, bringing Fear with him and scaring away Lucifer's fan club. A disappointment, a flaw, a source of shame.

Michael was the only one who tried to keep him humble, but he would ignore his twin's sound advice and disregard the way the Host had ostracized him for things in no way within his control. He had even, at times, made fun of Michael alongside them. Yet, even when he viewed him with derision or embarrassment, he still wanted Michael's full attention. He wanted to hear Michael's voice amongst his admirers. He wanted his approval. However, it had seemed that the closer Lucifer became to the Host the more estranged he and Michael became, and Michael's devotion and loyalty shifted away from his twin and towards their father.

It had grated on Lucifer's nerves to no end to see his twin become more and more attached to their father, to become His Prince, His Sword. Especially, when Lucifer knew Michael didn't agree with their father half the time and didn't really care about the titles he had gained, titles that made him many enemies amongst their siblings. Those titles had alienated Lucifer from him as well. They were no longer as balanced as they were before the wars. Michael became a commander and general in Dad's army. Lucifer was merely a soldier. He fought sometimes but he mainly stayed back to defend the Silver City. The distance created a rift between them that Lucifer's own actions only made worse.

No amount of praise from the rest of their family was able to mitigate the resentment and envy that grew in him towards both Michael and their father. He had accused Michael of being a bitter, spiteful, jealous, envious troll for so long, but Lucifer had been the one smashing things and throwing tantrums when he didn't get what he wanted from his brother. He did not pay attention to what may be going on behind the scenes with Michael and Dad, he hadn't cared to, he only cared about what he wanted. He backed Michael into a corner more than once, making him choose between Lucifer and their father in arguments that Lucifer usually started. Michael often chose Dad, which only left the Lightbringer more incensed than before. It was little wonder he had no idea the abuse Michael was enduring since he had become so wrapped up in himself that he hadn't shown anyone else the slightest bit of concern.

And look where it had led him.

"You're thinking very loudly."

Lucifer snapped out of his thoughts and focused on Michael, who was now looking at him, half of his face aglow with sunlight while the other half remained in shadow, like a chiaroscuro painting. Michael's words gave him pause. When they had still had their soul bond, they had been able to project their thoughts to one another and read each other's minds. He wondered if it was possible for them to get there again. He wouldn't mind reconnecting with his twin again, soul-to-soul.

"Can you hear my thoughts," Lucifer asked, hopefully.

"I didn't mean literally, it was just an expression. I don't think we're there yet." Michael replied carefully.

"Oh. Well, maybe one day."

"Maybe, Hel— Sam."

Michael said Lucifer's nickname with emphasis, like he needed to confirm it for himself. He had been calling him Hêlēl when he was being less deferential, which threw Lucifer for a loop, but he had never had a chance to address it. More important, Michael's voice had a different quality to it than Lucifer had heard in a long while. It felt more grounded, in a way. Solid, present. Michael himself looked steadier. Not like nothing had happened to him, more like he was finally aware of himself and his body and was making conscious decisions rather than just existing.

Lucifer wondered what had changed last night but he didn't ask. There was a calmness in the air that he didn't want to break.

"How did you sleep after the nightmare," Michael asked curiously.

"Alright," Lucifer replied simply.

Better when I wasn't alone, he thought but didn't say.

He could see guilt and remorse on Michael's face as he took Lucifer's words in.

"The Fall was a significant point in my life, but I've mostly dealt with it. Nightmares might come every now and again, but I handle it well enough. Didn't even need Linda's help with that part. Don't worry about it," Lucifer assured.

Michael pursed his lips, still unsatisfied.

"I…" he started hesitantly.

"I felt it. I felt everything: the falling, the crashing, the burning."

Lucifer blinked in surprise at that.

"What? How…"

"Our soul bond. It was still there when you first fell and I… I wanted to feel you, so I opened it as wide as it would go and I felt what you were going through: falling through the dimensions, burning through the realms, crashing in the Lake of Fire, breaking and burning over and over."

Both Lucifer and Michael paused, shuddering involuntarily at the memory invoked from the description.

"I— I felt it. I wanted to feel it, I deserved to after abandoning you to that horror."

Lucifer didn't know what to say to that. He felt a cold stab of pain in the pit of his stomach. He had never wished that fate on anyone else and never could. Not even in his lowest and darkest moments had he been capable of wanting to inflict that same pain on any of his siblings, least of all his twin. To know that Michael had felt all of it anyway, not just in a nightmare but in real time, did not bring him comfort. It was horrifying and only made him feel guiltier about the pain his twin had been going through for so long. It also served to stoke the fiery depths of his rage towards his father. He didn't think he had been this angry at the old man in centuries.

"I heard your prayers in the beginning. Dad let it go on for a while before He cut our connection so I could be useful to Him again," Michael continued before glancing over at Lucifer with a heartbreaking look of sadness and misery.

"I'm sorry that I didn't come for you, that I left you there alone. After everything we meant to each other, everything we were, I chose Dad."

"Michael, it isn't that simple. I know that now."

"It's that simple for me."

Lucifer clenched his jaw as he recognized that stubborn tone in Michael's voice. Part of him was happy to hear that some fight was left in his brother after a month of watching a broken facsimile of the man he thought he knew. He also couldn't help but be frustrated as experience told him that it was going to take moving mountains to get Michael to budge on this issue.

"Well, let's agree to disagree for now," he decided, saving that battle for another day.

"What about you? Did you sleep at all last night," he inquired as he stood up and moved towards his brother.

"Not really, no. I was thinking," Michael replied, moving over so there was space for Lucifer to squeeze in beside him.

"What about?"

"Everything."

"Considering our life span, I don't know how you found the time," Lucifer joked lightly, though Michael ignored it.

"Mostly, I've been thinking of what's real and what's not."

Lucifer didn't know why but the statement made a pit of apprehension settle in his stomach.

"Oh?"

Michael locked gazes with him, his eyes searching Lucifer's face before he spoke again.

"Father is gone, isn't He?"

Lucifer sighed a little at the question before answering.

"Yes, He is. He left with Mum. He can't hurt you anymore. Even if He were here, I wouldn't let Him anywhere near you."

Michael frowned in response as several emotions flashed in his eyes: disbelief, relief, longing, loss, anger, sadness before settling on resignation.

"He didn't even say goodbye to me," he muttered, apparently discomfited at the fact.

For a moment, Lucifer couldn't understand why he would be sad about not getting a farewell when their father had caused him so much pain. However, he quickly realized that Michael had been made to obey and love their father above all else. That state of being had been all he knew for the majority of his life. Perhaps a part of him believed his love and obeisance was reciprocated. He wouldn't be the first abuse victim to think it. It was difficult for anyone to turn away from their abuser, especially when it was a parent, a divine parent at that. Lucifer wondered if Linda would say Michael needed closure, but it didn't matter because his father and twin were never going to see or talk to each other again as long as Lucifer had something to say about it.

"After, when Dad was gone, I remember some things, doing things, hurting people. Is that real?"

"Mi… it— it's complicated."

"Did I kill Remiel? Did I kill your Miracle? Did my actions make you almost destroy yourself?"

Lucifer hesitated at the questions, even knowing full well his pause was an answer in and of itself.

"So, it was real. I did those things," Michael mumbled to himself, his voice full of self-loathing.

"It wasn't really you."

"It was me. It was my hands, it was my body."

"Dad—"

"Dad commanded me to be the villain and follow His plan, but He didn't tell me exactly what to do, detail by detail."

"Mi, Dad took your Will away from you. He forced you into being someone who fit His narrative. He wouldn't let you choose who you wanted to be or who you could love. Hell, He wouldn't even let you choose what clothes you wanted to wear or how you wore your hair. He called you a prince and then forced you into being a tool for Him to use as He pleased. He tore us apart so He could have a bloody retirement plan. This isn't your fault."

Apparently, Michael did not want to hear this. He jumped up from the windowsill and rounded on his twin angrily.

"I killed Remiel! Our sister! No, I didn't just kill her. I erased her from existence. There is nothing left of her soul because of me. I killed humans and got them killed and I didn't care or feel any remorse for it. I got you killed. I made you fly to your soul death while I stood there like a fool. That was me. Not Dad. Not Mom. Me! I'm a monster, a murderer. That's the truth. You know I'm not lying. You can feel it. You can tell."

Lucifer looked at his brother sadly. He had been waiting for Michael to explode this way, to stop tiptoeing around him and truly process all that had happened. It hurt that Michael was still blaming himself for this when as far as Lucifer was concerned, his twin was as much a victim as anyone else in this situation. Perhaps even worse, because he had been forced to victimize others and was left to bear the weight of the guilt that brought. All thanks to their father's plan.

His plan had constantly left Michael with the short end of the stick. Lucifer wondered why their father let Michael exist if He was just going to disregard, hurt and abuse him. If Michael was so offensive to Him, surely it would've been more merciful to destroy him? But when had Father ever been merciful? The only thing Lucifer could credit Him with was not killing his twin. At least that gave Lucifer a chance to reconnect with him now. Then again, Michael's death had been part of the plan all along. Lucifer was meant to kill him. The way he had felt back then, he would've done it. It was Amenadiel preaching of mercy, recalling how he felt after Uriel's death and memories of what he and Michael had once been that stayed his hand.

"Just because you may think that that's the truth doesn't mean it is true."

Michael scoffed in reply.

"Why am I here, Sam? I don't belong here. I am going to put people's lives in danger."

"Dad—"

"Let's say you're right, and everything I did is because Dad commanded me to do it, then not only am I a murderer and a monster, but I'm weak and a coward as well. And you know better than most that I'm a traitor. I betrayed you. I raised my sword against you, I threw you before Father for judgement, I tossed you into an abyss, I ignored your agony and I let you burn. It didn't matter how much it tore me up inside, I did it anyway. The moment I saw you again, I did everything I could to hurt you. I killed the woman you love, I got your friend killed, I forced you to take a throne you never wanted, and I made you kill yourself. That is who I am, so why am I here? Better yet, why are you here when you should be up in the Silver City ruling? Or down at Lux taking care of your responsibilities? Or strengthening your bonds with your new family? Why? Because you've deluded yourself into believing that everything I've done is Dad's fault and not my own? It's ridiculous! It's the basest sentimentality clouding your judgement. It's a sweet lie to make yourself feel better. It. Is. Not. True."

"If you believe all that Mi, then what would you have me do, hmm? I promised you a second chance."

"I don't deserve a second chance. I don't belong here… I… you should take me back to Hell."

Lucifer drew back at that, not expecting the request and thinking of unpleasant memories of when he made a similar appeal to Amenadiel.

"I won't do that."

"That is where I belong, being punished for my crimes."

"Michael—"

"I shouldn't be here, with you taking care of me or treating me like I need a fucking spa day after everything I've done! I should be scrubbing Hell's floors right now. But what do you do? You— you pardon me, you bring me back to Earth, you give me time and love and gifts and hope. You nurse my wounds and comfort me and treat me like I'm worth the effort when we both know I'm not. And you call it mercy. What is merciful about that? What is the point of that?"

Lucifer stared at Michael in shock. There were tears slipping down his twin's face, tears of both grief and anger, not that Michael appeared to notice. He was too deep in his spiral of guilt, despair, and self-hatred to notice.

"What do you want me to do," Lucifer asked, at a loss of how to fix this.

"Take me back to Hell and let me rot, because all of this? This false hope? It is crueler than anything else you could do."

"I can't do that," Lucifer replied again.

"I'll go willingly. You don't have to feel guilty. I'm asking for it. I don't want to be a burden and I don't want to be here. I can't change, I can't grow. He won't let me and I won't let myself. We're prolonging the pain and racing towards the inevitable. Please, brother. Please."

"I can't."

"Then ask Amenadiel to do it or Saraqael or Jophiel or Zadkiel. They hate me, it won't bother them."

"No," Lucifer denied stubbornly.

"Then smite me, strike me down. Do something but don't leave me like this," Michael pleaded.

Lucifer almost expected him to drop to his knees. He got awful flashbacks of when he had just found Michael in Hell and his brother had prostrated himself before him, asking to die and fully expecting Lucifer to fulfill the request. He was no more tempted to acquiesce now as he was then.

"Leave you? Mi, as long as it's in my power, I'm never leaving you again."

Lucifer's words gave Michael some pause. The former Devil took advantage of his momentary shock to cautiously approach his brother.

"If I send you to Hell, I'm going down there to suffer with you. If I let Oblivion claim you, it's going to claim me too. I'm not losing you again, I'm not letting anyone take you away from me again, not even you."

Michael looked even more thrown then.

"But that's…"

"Selfish? Perhaps. I don't care."

"You're God now. You have the Silver City to think about. The universe and all the sentient life inside of it. You have the detective and your humans. You can't abandon it all for me. That's crazy."

"Is it? We're a part of each other. Two halves of a whole. Aren't you tired of only being half of who you're meant to be, of carrying on through life incomplete? Don't you feel it? That gaping void inside of yourself that wasn't there before Dad got involved and started messing with our fate?"

"Of course I feel it. I haven't been able to feel anything besides it for eons."

"And don't you want it to be over?"

"What do you think I'm asking for? An end to it all."

"If I send you to Hell, your suffering won't end. Everything there is designed to compound your pain and guilt until you're ground down into nothing. And killing you won't be an end either, not for me. All you'll be doing is submitting to Dad again."

"I've submit myself to Him my whole existence, why should I stop now?"

"Because He can't win! He shouldn't! He's not even in this universe anymore, He's fucked off to go ruin yet another version of us. Why should we let Him continue to dictate our lives? Why should He hold the power to rip anything else from us?"

"Because He's God. Being All-Powerful is kind of His thing."

"But He's not God of this universe anymore, I am, and I don't give a damn what He says or what He wants. What do you think I would've done if I'd have gone through with His plan? If I'd have killed you and ascended and only then found out the truth? Do you truly think I could've accepted that Dad had preordained you to die? That I would've been satisfied with you being marked for slaughter, like some lamb to sacrifice at the altar of my greatness? Knowing Him, Remiel's death was part of His plan too. He certainly didn't lift a finger to save Uriel, so I doubt He would've for Remy."

Michael looked like he wanted to deny Lucifer's theory but found he had nothing to refute it.

"All of Dad's children and His creations are little more than pawns to be maneuvered to fit His visions. I saw the strings long before our siblings and fought to cut them, and we see what Dad's reaction to that was. I wish I was able to get through to you before I fell. But I need you to accept the reality of it now. You need to accept that He used you, used all of us. He did it because He could. But it's over now, He's gone. He left me in charge and He might not be glad He did," Lucifer advised, some of his blazing fury at their father coming through towards the end.

"And in case it wasn't clear, if I had lost you again because of Him I would've burned through every barrier separating our universes so I could tear Him apart."

Michael shook his head, clearly at a loss.

"But why," he asked, his tone bewildered and confused.

Lucifer stepped even closer to him, placing a hand on the back of Michael's neck, his fingers brushing loose curls.

"Because I love you. Because you're my brother and my twin and my soulmate, literally. Because our lives have been taken away from us to suit the needs of a despot. It's not fair but we can't change the past. What we can do is move forward and make the future our own."

"How?".

"You have to forgive yourself, Michael."

"Forgive myself," he scoffed.

"I don't believe you're the one that needs to be forgiven, but I acknowledge that not everyone will see it that way and you clearly don't think so either. It doesn't matter what I say or what anyone else says, if you can't forgive yourself, you'll be dragged down anyway and Dad will win. Forgiving yourself is the only way you can break free of Him."

"Maybe I should be dragged down."

"Hell is a dead end. There's no light there, no possibility for more. It will destroy you and your death will destroy me. Don't ask me to go through that. Please, Mi. We've lost so much time already."

Michael seemed to deflate as he looked down to the floor.

"I don't want to hurt you again, Sam, but I don't know how to even begin to forgive myself."

"I know it won't be easy, trust me, I know. I've battled my own self-loathing. I once asked Amenadiel to bring me back to Hell too. I've been sucked into a Hell loop before. It's still a struggle sometimes to remember that even if I stumble, I deserve a second chance, that I'm not the monster I spent so long believing I was. You don't have to do this alone. I'll be here with you every step of the way."

"What if I can't do it?"

"We'll keep trying until you can."

Lucifer used his hand on the back of Michael's neck to pull him forward, resting their foreheads against each other's.

"I won't give up on you. Just say you'll try."

Michael let out another long-suffering sigh but he nodded once in reply.

"Okay," he confirmed.

"Okay."