Based on a prompt on AO3's Petting Zoo for Wayward Bunnies
It was raining.
Which wasn't strange, it rained a lot in Portland, whether it was a drizzle or a downpour. Why he moved to a port city known for its gloomy weather was anyone's guess. He supposed he hadn't chosen it per se, more like he'd landed on it.
It rained on the first day he was dumped here arrived. It rained a majority of the last two years he'd been here. His right side did not appreciate it and let him know with frequent flare-ups, but he never entertained the idea of moving. He was used to pain and his shoulder was not the most worse thing he was learning to cope with since the coliseum anyway.
Rain was not a surprise in Portland, but the knocking at his apartment door was.
Michael had no friends, no contacts. He kept his distance from his neighbors and was nothing more than cordial to his scant few colleagues at the library where he worked. The only humans who visited his apartment were delivery people. That didn't bother Michael very much. What was the point in befriending humans who would never be able to know his true nature? If they did know, they'd run from the monster he was. On the off chance they didn't run, they would die soon enough. They would go to Heaven or Hell, either way he would never see them again.
As for more celestial connections, those were all gone as well. His family had renounced and attainted him, disowned him both verbally and spiritually, cutting him off from Heaven entirely. Even his prayers could not penetrate the wall that had been erected between himself and his family. Lucifer had banished him from L.A. once he had decided that Michael had had a long enough stay downstairs which found him in Portland, alone in a cheap, dingy apartment that was halfway to being condemned but all he could afford on his meager paycheck. He had nothing and no one. He hadn't even ordered anything that needed to be delivered so there was no reason someone should be knocking on his door.
He approached it half-cautious half-annoyed. It was a deluge out there, why was anyone walking around in it, let alone disturbing his wallowing peace? He cursed himself for not having a peephole so he could see who it was or one of those doorbell cameras, but he wasn't exactly flush with disposable cash to waste on such an expense.
He pulled the door open slowly, the celestial blade he always carried a sure weight on his person. The first thing he saw was Gabriel's drenched and nervous face and then the next was pure white wings followed by their owner.
Michael stared at Lucifer, not at all expecting to see Him and not sure what he even felt about seeing Him. Lucifer looked a little strange. Angels didn't truly age, but He almost looked younger in a way. He was wearing robes that were outdated compared to the contemporary fashion trends of the Silver City, never mind that they were black and simple. Lucifer had never particularly liked the robes they had to don. Michael couldn't imagine why He wanted to wear them now that He was God. His hair was also in its naturally curly state, another thing Lucifer had abhorred. He thought their curls were messy and unruly and He'd spend hours trying to tame them whereas Michael had been more prone to letting the coils be wild and free until Father had ordered otherwise. Other than Lucifer's physical appearance, He wasn't looking at Michael with the scorn or disgust or apathy he would've expected.
Michael felt a sharp twist in his gut and his chest the longer he looked at his twin. Was it guilt? Pain? Regret? Anger? Bitterness? All of the above? Michael didn't know. His feelings for Lucifer had been a jumbled mess for ages but the arena had shattered something. He had built up a dam within himself to hold back all of the chaos roiling around inside and then he'd proceeded to put cracks in it with every injurious action he had taken against his family, Creation and himself. The dam had burst completely the moment he watched Lucifer fly off to Heaven to sacrifice Himself for His Miracle, the moment when he felt Lucifer's soul burn, the moment when the bond connecting them as the demiurge burned right alongside Him, leaving Michael bereft. Being crushed and tormented by Hell's oppressive environment had rendered any chance Michael had of salvaging that dam impossible. Now, he was left adrift alone in Portland trying to put the jagged pieces back together and failing.
Part of him blamed Lucifer for it. He was an idiot. There was no reason He had to kill Himself for the detective. He could've beaten Michael and then resurrected Chloe. Or He could've submitted to Michael and he would've resurrected Chloe himself and let the two live their days ruling Hell for eternity as he had offered. He didn't have to destroy His own soul and force Michael to feel when it happened. He was still feeling it and Lucifer didn't know, or more likely, didn't care. He had His throne, His dominion over Heaven and Earth, He had His Miracle. He was finally free of Michael once and for all. His crooked twin was hardly a concern God had to waste His time on.
Another part of him blamed his father. He had demanded so much of Michael, had beaten and shaped and molded him into being the dutiful son, destroying him in the process. He forced him to turn away from anything he'd ever wanted in his existence in favor of chasing his father's ever elusive love and trying to enact His Word. Then, the old man turns around and decides a bit of Free Will in His children wasn't remiss after all. Michael didn't think it was possible to hate anyone or anything with the intensity that he'd grown to loathe Him.
Mostly, he knew this was his own fault. He had broken his own heart countless times in hopes someone else would care enough to put him back together. Now, he'd finally managed to break himself entirely and condemn himself to a life of solitude in the process.
He dragged his eyes away from Him and buried the feelings deep as he turned his gaze back to Gabriel.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to take him."
Michael rose an eyebrow at that, the statement striking him odd. Why would Gabriel need to take Lucifer anywhere? He was God now, He had the power to will Himself wherever He wanted to go. And why would He willingly come to Michael for anything? He had the whole Host at His beck and call, what would He need Michael for and why would He agree to come even if Gabriel tried to convince Him? He remembered Lucifer's last words to him as they stood on the docks of Portland, staring out into the water.
"I've freed you from your sentence, but don't think anything's changed. You are not welcome in the Silver City. You are not welcome in Los Angeles. You are no longer an angel of the Lord. You are excommunicated from the Host and exiled from Heaven. To violate this exile will mean the destruction of not just your body but your soul as well. More importantly, stay away from my family. You've done more than enough damage and I won't give you the chance to do any more harm to anyone I love. If I ever see you again, I won't be half as merciful. Get yourself a life, Michael. And make sure it has nothing to do with mine."
Lucifer had said the words with an irrefutable finality. They were done. Years ago, Michael would've either not cared about Lucifer's words and disregarded them in favor of continuing to mess with his twin. Maybe he would've gotten angry or insulted. Instead, he had felt numb and yet oddly wounded by it. He wasn't sure why. Maybe a part of him had been hoping that that second chance he was promised included Lucifer, but that was wishful thinking. He wasn't even sure why he was wishing for that. Old habits perhaps. Hell had done a number on him (and maybe he needed the reassurance that Lucifer wasn't dead, that he wasn't reduced to burned ash and a nonexistent soul because of Michael).
Looking at Lucifer now, he saw no trace of the previous emotion in their last conversation. Granted it had been two years, but that wasn't enough time for Him to look at Michael with that expression. He looked… hopeful? Was that what that strange emotion was in His eyes? He certainly looked awestruck as He stared at him wordlessly, almost mesmerized. It was off-putting how singularly focused He was on Michael's face. He wondered if he had something on it, but if he did, Lucifer would've made fun of him by now. If he was taking pride in Michael's scar, He would've said something out loud too.
Now that Michael was looking at Him again, he noticed the bruises and open cuts on Lucifer's face. The blood mixed with the rain caused sluggish rivulets of red water to slide down His cheeks.
"Turmoil in the Silver City, brother," Michael inquired, a hint of teasing in his voice and perhaps some gloating.
Maybe he felt a bit better that Lucifer's reign wasn't smooth sailing, sue him.
Lucifer's brow scrunched in response to his words. He opened His mouth as if to speak but shut it again. Michael narrowed his eyes at the strange reaction.
"What? No witty comeback? No scathing insult? No raunchy joke?"
Lucifer's face tightened even further in response to that, but He still said nothing.
"Look bro, can we come in? I don't enjoy standing in the rain, getting soaked," Gabriel intoned, her voice holding both irritation and anxiety.
She looked around herself as if she expected someone to jump out of the shadows and attack her. Michael felt a flare of annoyance that she would bring trouble straight to his doorstep, especially when he was pretty soundly dismissed from having any say in celestial matters. The upside of said expulsion was that he no longer had to deal with any of the family drama, squabbling and backstabbing (not a small amount of which he was personally responsible for). However, he couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt at being considered useful or at Gabriel still seeking him out for help above everyone else. That in mind, he stepped aside and waved them in, giving a quick glance into the wet darkness to make sure he didn't see anyone pursuing the duo.
When he entered the living room, Gabriel had already retrieved towels and was working on drying her hair. Lucifer seemed more interested in staring at Michael than doing anything else. Michael quirked his brow at it, but Lucifer still said nothing. Michael shook his head and decided to ignore it. If Lucifer wanted to give him the silent treatment, two could play that game.
"Am I going to be getting an explanation any time soon, Gabe?"
"It's… it's complicated."
"Okay. Well, uncomplicate it."
"I don't even know if that's possible. Samael, dry your hair and put your wings away. I told you, you can't have them out casually here."
Michael felt a stab of surprise at Lucifer for not snapping at her, both for the use of His given name and for the ordering tone in her voice. He followed her commands wordlessly, as if He wasn't God now and didn't need to take orders from anyone, not even an archangel. Even before He was God, He would've gotten pissy if He even suspected someone was telling Him what to do, even if their advice was sound.
Studying his twin again, Michael stared at Him, trying to see Him with more than just his physical eyes. It was harder for him to get a read on anyone's soul and aura without his wings, but he and Lucifer were twins. Even if Lucifer had renounced him and their bond had been violently broken, a part of their essences would always be linked, nothing could change that. Not even Father had the power to change it. So it didn't take much for Michael to see Him, truly see Him.
His spirit was different, its form strange but not totally unfamiliar. Michael noticed that all the places where his soul had once been intertwined with Lucifer's were empty. Not empty in the way Michael's was. The dark angel's essence was scarred and bruised, a charred ruin left behind to show he was whole once but was now no longer. With Lucifer, it seemed like there was never any Demiurgic bond to begin with, which made no sense. Michael knew Lucifer had intended to deify Chloe and build that soul bond with her, sharing the Demiurge with her, leaving Michael in the cold. But Chloe was not present within His soul either, it was just empty, raw space.
His soul also did not carry with it any taint that would have shown his time ruling over Hell. It did have Michael's Darkness and Fear woven into it even though Lucifer's Light and Desire were present too, as if the Demiurgic powers had all converged in one being. Most notably, there was not the divine aura that would've been there if He was now God. Michael had seen it on the docks of Portland when Lucifer had left him here but now it was conspicuously absent.
Michael turned back to Gabriel.
"What happened," he demanded, his voice now devoid of humor and teasing.
"I…" Gabriel trailed off with a sigh, seemingly battling some internal struggle before she walked off to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit he had in there.
He briefly wondered how she knew where his things were, but the answer didn't really matter at the moment.
"Here, Samael. Use this to clean your wounds. Michael and I are going to talk in the kitchen."
Lucifer looked between them, His his gaze lingering on Michael longer than it did on Gabriel, before he wordlessly nodded.
Gabriel grabbed Michael's arm and pulled him towards the kitchen. Privacy was more of an illusion than anything else. Michael's apartment had an open concept, they could still see Lucifer from the kitchen and with their enhanced hearing, even if there was a wall, it wouldn't have mattered.
"What's wrong with him? Why doesn't he have the powers of God? Why is his soul so wrong? And why is he being so weird," Michael probed immediately.
Gabriel let out a humorless chuckle.
"I don't even know where to begin."
"The beginning would be good."
"Trust me, we don't have the time for it."
Michael glanced over at Lucifer, who was… trying to use the first aid kit box to wipe his face?
"What are you doing," Michael asked, narrowing his eyes at him with confusion.
Lucifer jumped a little at being addressed and looked between Michael and the first aid kit with varying levels of bewilderment.
"Pop the latches and open it. The supplies are inside."
Michael watched Lucifer take a few seconds before figuring it out and pulling out a roll of gauze and packaged alcohol wipes uncertainly. He turned away from the tableau and back towards Gabriel.
"What the fuck? Did he get hit in the head or something?"
"I'm pretty sure he did, but that's not the reason for all of that. He's… I mean, he's not supposed to be here."
"I completely agree."
"No, he's really not supposed to be here. He… migrated, against my will. He hopped into my portal at just the right time. I didn't realize he was with me until it was too late for me to stop him. His arguments about why he should stay actually made sense so—"
"You're not making sense, Gabe. Will you just tell me what the Hell is going on?"
Gabriel sighed again but nodded in acquiescence.
"He's not the Lucifer you know. He's not from this universe. He's from the new one Mom and Dad are creating together."
Michael raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that.
"You allowed a being originating from another universe to cross into ours?"
"I didn't allow him to do anything. I told you, he totally hijacked my portal and forced himself into this universe!"
"And you didn't send him back immediately because…?"
"I told you, his arguments were convincing."
Michael rolled his eyes at that. Lucifer was always charismatic and convinced most of their siblings to do pretty much whatever He wanted. Michael had thought Gabe was above that, but clearly he was wrong.
"Why didn't you kick him out of your portal before he even got here?"
"If I booted him from the portal, he could've been hurt or destroyed."
"His presence here alone could lead to destruction. I'm surprised Lu— the Silver City didn't realize the second he arrived."
"Well, so far I've gotten no indication that they know and his presence hasn't torn a hole in reality."
"Yet. Why did he even come here? Not enough adoration in his own universe, he wanted to try his hand here too?"
"He hitched a ride with me because… because he wanted to meet you."
Michael quirked an eyebrow at that.
"What's so special about me? Doesn't he have his own Michael?"
"No."
"What?"
"There… there isn't a Michael in Mom and Dad's new universe. There never was."
Michael looked at Gabriel with both disbelief and dread.
"How is that possible? There are two halves of the Demiurge, that's how it's always been. Creation can't exist without the existence of both halves."
"Mom and Dad said They wanted to subvert the issues that cropped up between you and Lucifer. They thought that you two were at the root of all our family's problems and Their solution to the "twin dilemma" was to make sure there were none. No twins, no problems. They still needed a Demiurge to spark Creation in the terrestrial plane, so They made Samael alone and made him the Demiurge. I knew all of it was a load of BS. I told Them as much. I told Them it wasn't fair of Them to decide that you were the source of all our family drama, that it was no better than when They had done the same thing to Lucifer before exiling him to Hell. They were supposed to be learning from Their mistakes so They wouldn't repeat them in that universe, and there They were, learning all the wrong lessons. They have no right to view you as the inferior twin and then act surprised when you lash out."
Michael listened to Gabriel rant with a growing numbness filling his bones. He'd always known his parents mostly looked at him with overarching apathy. His mother showed interest at times but those were rare gems that he kept close to his chest. Clearly, those moments hadn't meant as much to Her as they had to him. His Father? Well, he knew where he stood there. Michael hated Him but he couldn't help but to still long for His approval and His love. He shouldn't have been surprised or sad that he wasn't worthy of it in any universe, but he couldn't deny those feelings lurking beneath the numbness, waiting to take over.
"Why didn't you tell me before," he mumbled amidst her onslaught of increasingly disparaging words about their parents.
Gabriel had never been so bold before as to openly express her negative opinions of Them. He supposed Lucifer's influence showed in that regard. He watched his sister deflate in response to his question.
"You know why, Mikey. You would've taken it and internalized it. You would've used it to fuel every bad thought you already have about yourself. And because They're God and you can't accept that God could be wrong, you would do everything in your power to prove Them right. I didn't want to see you tear yourself apart any more over Them. Not now, when you're already so…"
"So, what? Weak," he sneered in response.
"Fragile. Hurt. Heartbroken."
Michael scoffed at that.
"Why would I be any of those things?"
"For the same reason he is," she replied, nodding to Samael who still had not figured out what to do with the medical supplies and was doing a rather poor job of pretending not to be listening to their conversation.
"You're both alone, in so many ways. Samael could tell that something was wrong, that he was incomplete. Mom and Dad brushed his concerns off, but he didn't let it go so easily. I could see the despair, the bitterness and hurt growing in him every time I saw him. It reminded me so much of you, but it reminded me of Lucifer too. I knew Samael would rebel, even sooner than Lucifer had. And he would be out for blood. He couldn't cope on his own and as angry and jealous of his siblings as he is, if he killed them, it would break him. You know that better than most."
Michael's back straightened at the unwelcome reminder of Remiel and her demise by his hand.
"I know I shouldn't have interfered, I know Samael doesn't belong here, I know Lucifer will be upset about it. But he doesn't deserve the fate Mom and Dad gave him to and you don't deserve this fate either."
Michael scoffed again.
"You're right. I don't deserve this. I should be dead. That was the deal in the coliseum. I shouldn't even be here."
"I don't believe that. Lucifer said everyone deserves a second chance. I've been watching over you. I've seen you getting more and more lost in your loneliness and pain being here on your own, isolated from every connection you've ever had. As much as you may have disliked your life in the Silver City, it's the only home you've ever known and now you're here trying to make a way in a world you barely know. I wish it wasn't like this, I wish you weren't alone."
Michael shifted on his feet, uncomfortable at his sister's sincere concern for him.
"It's not like all this just happened in a vacuum. I made choices and there were consequences."
"Still, you were promised a second chance and I think you can do more with your chance than wallow in solitude and self-hatred. You can grow, you can change, you can forgive yourself and make amends, you can heal. Angels aren't meant to be solitary beings, we've always been connected to each other, spiritually. We weren't created to be alone. You and Lucifer even more so than the rest of us always relied on that connection with others, but especially with each other. I never quite understood it, but I know that you changed when he was gone and I know that your soul missed him even if you wouldn't let yourself admit it. I also know that you're in a worse place now than you've been in maybe your entire existence. I'm scared that one day I'm going to come looking for you and you won't be here anymore. I don't want to see you gone, but I know I'm not the one who can make you stay. I can't guarantee Samael is either, but it's a chance. All your connections to the Host are gone, but you were never forbidden from forging a new connection. If Lucifer can do it with Chloe, then you should be allowed to bond with who you choose to. Please, Michael. Just try. Let yourself have this one thing."
Michael shook his head, wondering if his sister had received brain damage at some point during her trip through the universes.
"Talk to him at least. He's been really eager to meet you. He's been alone his entire existence, all the while knowing that he wasn't meant to be. And it wasn't by choice, it was because Mom and Dad decided to manipulate his life based off of the mistakes They made with you and Lucifer. I remember how you guys were in the Beginning. You used to be inseparable. Even Mom and Dad came in second place compared to the way you two saw each other. The hatred and jealousy weren't all there was then and I don't think that's all there is between the two of you now. The bad blood between you and Lucifer is stopping you from remembering that, but you don't have that with Samael. He never got to have any connection with you because They wouldn't let him. Samael is stuck at the beginning and you're looking towards the end. Maybe you two can meet somewhere in the middle, somewhere good for the both of you."
Michael reluctantly glanced back at Lucifer, or Samael rather. He had abandoned the first aid kit and was now back to staring at Michael with his intense and curious gaze. Michael supposed it would be strange seeing your face on another person if you hadn't been used to seeing that for your entire life. Stranger still to meet the twin you were supposed to have. Samael was looking at him like he saw Michael as someone worth knowing, someone worth having around, someone worth keeping, someone worth existing. That more than anything should've made him tell them both to leave. He did not need the emotional turmoil of this weird situation. It would be much easier to return to his empty house and pretend nothing had ever happened. But it had been so long since he had seen any positive emotion in Lucifer's eyes for him, at least outside of a Hell loop, and he wasn't quite ready to give it up.
He approached Samael cautiously, like he was a wild animal that might attack at a sudden movement. Samael watched him with silent curiosity. Michael stopped a few feet in front of him, trying to find words to say. What exactly does one say to their alternate twin brother who decided to cross universes just to meet you?
"Hi," Michael started and could've smacked him+self for sounding so awkward and clueless.
It wasn't this difficult when he and Lucifer first came into existence, at least not in this way. They had known each other the moment they saw one another, had latched onto each other's souls in an instant. The awkwardness and the difficulty communicating didn't come until later.
Samael didn't appear to mind his clumsy introduction. He looked upon him with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes still shining with adoration and longing that Michael didn't feel like he had earned.
"Hello, Mikael."
Michael took note that Samael's words, while spoken in English, had an indefinable accent. It took a moment before he realized that it was likely an Enochian accent. He had never thought of his Native tongue as having any specific inflection, but he supposed Samael's universe was unique in a lot of ways.
"It's Michael. And you prefer…"
"Samael."
"Not Lucifer?"
"I'm not much of a Lightbringer," Samael replied with a wry look on his face.
The statement piqued Michael's interest, but he felt wrong-footed just standing there while Samael looked at him with that bright gaze, like Michael hung the stars. Granted he literally had, but he wasn't used to someone giving him such a look of unadulterated warmth. He needed something to do to distract himself from it.
"Do you know how to use any of that," he inquired, nodding to the first aid kit still held limply in his hands.
"I've spent some time in Raphael's healing halls, but I don't know what any of these things are."
Michael gestured to Samael to sit on the couch as he took the kit from him. He examined Samael's face. The cuts weren't deep, and the bruises would likely be gone in a day, but it was something to focus on.
"The trip through Gabriel's portal wasn't as smooth as I'd thought it would be," Samael explained to the unasked question.
Michael didn't reply and instead worked silently, using alcohol wipes to clean the cuts. There were bits of glass stuck in his face as well. He used tweezers to pluck them out, quietly shushing his pseudo-twin when he winced at each shard being removed. Once his face was clean, he used butterfly bandages on the deepest cuts.
Samael stared at him the entire time. At one point, he raised his hand and reached out like he wanted to touch Michael's face. The older angel had flinched involuntarily at the action and Samael had dropped his hand and went back to silently staring.
Michael was acutely aware of Samael's unrelenting gaze just as he was aware of Gabriel, who had retreated to his bedroom to give them some time alone. He had spent so long bitter and desperate to stop being ignored by the majority of his family. He had been surrounded by legions and felt completely alone. Now, he only had two angels sharing his space and he felt like a bug under a microscope.
Michael didn't have dominion over Desire, but even he could feel his siblings' shared hopes for Michael to be… something to Samael. He could hardly be something to himself, he didn't know what they were expecting of him.
He sighed as he sat down next to him, studying the identical man. Samael studied him right back.
"What has Gabriel told you about me," he asked after a long silence.
Samael paused before shrugging.
"I've overheard things from her, Mother and Father. I know you are the Power of the Demiurge. I know you have dominion over Fear and Darkness. I know you were the commander against the forces of Chaos. I know you cast your Samael into Hell at Father's order. I know your differences with one another was enough of a reason for Mother and Father to create me the way they did."
"All that is true, but I meant other things about me."
"You mean your actions during the fight for the Throne?"
"That— yes, for a start."
Samael shrugged again.
"Details elude me, but I know you hurt people and that you have spent time in Hell as a prisoner."
"Hurt people? That's a minor understatement," Michael scoffed.
"I killed people. Mortals that I wished to use for my own gain. Siblings who tried to put a stop to my cruelty. I ruined lives, tore souls asunder, left devastation in my wake with no regard. That is what I did and I didn't feel guilty about it. It took centuries in Hell for that to happen. Even then, I tried to tell myself that I was justified in my actions. Sometimes I can still convince myself to believe that."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I'm trying to figure out what you hope to gain from me."
"I just want to know you."
"Why?"
"Because you're… you. You're the part of me I've been trying to find since the moment I was born. I can't exist on my own. I'm not supposed to. The Demiurge isn't meant to be a single being, it's meant to be two halves completing one another. Souls forever connected. Creation is formed by this constant duality."
"So you want to learn to create? Is that why you're here? Because Lucifer would've been the better twin to seek out for that."
"Learning to create properly would be nice, but it's not the reason I'm here."
"Create properly?"
"I have created some things. Mother and Father folded bits of your aspects into me when they made me. I have dominion over Darkness and Power along with Light and Will. In theory, I am still the Demiurge and should be able to create on my own, but my creations are unstable. I have been able to make black holes and expand the primordial Darkness of the terrestrial plane, but my stars die seconds after their births, my moons crack and turn into meteorites, destroying the few barren planets I've made. Likely, Mother and Father will have to take over forming the galaxies. But it is Their fault. They should not have interfered in our conception. They should not have made me wrong. In doing so, They ensured that I would be the only one of my siblings who can see the truth about Them: They are imperfect and so frustratingly fallible. They cursed me to be the same way. My creations reflect the nature of my existence."
Michael's interest was piqued as he heard the anger and bitterness lacing Samael's archaic speech pattern. Clearly, he was not feeling charitable towards their parents. He watched Samael take a calming breath before he continued.
"As I said though, creation is not my goal here. My greatest interest is in knowing you, knowing the other half of myself, no matter what that looks like. Knowing who and what I was meant to be."
"I am not a good person, Samael. I am not a good brother and I'm an even worse twin. If you think you'll come here and live out some fairytale, you're going to be disappointed."
"I know you are not perfect. I'm not either. I have hurt those around me too and I have been… tempted to harm my siblings, permanently," Samael replied, looking down in shame.
Michael opened his mouth to retort something sufficiently self-deprecating, probably something about how he was worse than Samael could ever hope to be, making a competition of even who could outdo the other as worst brother of the year, but Samael's next question stopped him short.
"Have you ever been alone? Truly alone? Not just physically, but spiritually, down to the crux of your soul?"
Michael paused, an unpleasant feeling rising in his chest.
"Can't say I've had the pleasure," he lied.
"I knew the moment I came into being that I was made wrong. I wasn't supposed to exist on my own. I knew something was missing, someone was missing, another piece of myself that I could never find no matter how much I searched for it. Every time I told Mother and Father, They would brush me off with cryptic half-answers. All the while, They knew the truth. They knew I didn't have to be alone. They could've given me answers, but They chose not to. They chose to watch me suffer for Their mistakes. The rest of the Host were so blissfully ignorant. Everyone else's souls were full and complete, their bonds with our parents and each other were enough for them. They had their purposes that they had no issues fulfilling. Their dominions which they could control with ease. I was the odd one out, forever searching, forever unmoored. It was inevitable that I fell into despair. Despair quickly became anger and anger became rage. It was easy to turn that rage and jealousy and envy on my siblings. They had what I could not. I hurt them so many times, in big ways and small ways. No matter how guilty I felt and how much I promised I would refrain from doing so again, I would hurt them once more. I left the Silver City as often as I could so I would not continue to be such a bane to their happy existences. I hoped creation would welcome me, but it was only ever destruction. I was dangerously close to giving in to Oblivion when I met Gabriel and I learned about you. I just thought if there was a chance to find what was missing, I should take it."
Michael stared at Samael, digesting all he had said. It was difficult to ignore the similarities between the two of them and their relationship with the rest of the Host. He also couldn't ignore that both of them were at a point where they had one foot in creation and the other in Oblivion, the nothing space of nonexistence calling to them. With that in mind, he could understand even more why Gabriel had brought Samael here. She thought she might be able to save them both or that they could save each other.
Michael snorted a little at the thought. When was the last time he saved anyone? It had to be millennia ago. Now Gabriel wanted him to save Samael from himself or risk him choosing to end himself.
"Right. So, no pressure then," Michael muttered before glancing up and meeting Samael's sincere gaze.
"Look, I'm not a particularly honest person. I mean, I've already lied to you at least once during the course of this conversation, but I'm going to be honest with you now. Most days, I can barely find a reason to get out of bed. I understand why Gabe brought you here. She's a bleeding heart. She's hoping we'll be able to help each other cope or heal or whatever. But my will-to-live meter is running pretty low and I know for a fact that I don't have the capacity to support someone else on top of myself. Even if Lucifer wouldn't flip his shit when he finds out about you, even if we could formalize a soul bond with each other, even if we actually could help each other, I know myself. The second I realize this could work, that maybe I don't have to be alone, I'll lash out and I'll hurt you. At the end of the day, no matter what universe you're from, I know you, so I'll make sure to hurt you in a way that will be hard to recover from. Then, we'll be right back where we started. So, what's the point?"
"Can I ask why you would hurt me even if you don't want to?"
"I don't know. Habit, I guess," he shrugged.
Samael pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows, disbelief clear on his face.
"That's hardly an answer."
"It's what I've got. Take it or leave it."
"I thought you said you were going to be honest."
"What can I say? I'm a liar."
"Gabriel was right, you are convoluted," Samael pointed out, an amused tilt to his lips.
Michael let out a sound of indignation at that.
"I am not! What would make you say that," he protested.
"You lied about being honest and was honest about being a liar. Sounds pretty convoluted to me."
"I'm just a complex man. I have layers if you must know. Convoluted, the nerve."
Samael giggled impishly at his exasperation. It was a good-natured sound, not born of ego or malice as had been the case in the twins' later interactions. It caused a warm sensation to pass through him and a momentary abatement of the constant throbbing in his soul, almost like it might recognize that he was not as alone in the universe as the jagged edges within him believed.
Well, fuck.
"In the interest of honesty, I sort of lied before."
"Oh, did you? What a shock," Samael commented sarcastically.
"Alright, alright, asshole. Didn't take you long to acclimate, huh? I kind of liked it better when you did less talking and more creepy staring."
Samael let out a smirk but said nothing, waiting for Michael to speak with an open and expectant expression. It was probably that look on his face, on Lucifer's face, that prompted him to speak more than anything else.
"I do know what it's like to be alone and incomplete, down to your soul."
He watched the smile fall away from Samael's lips slowly.
"You… you do?"
Michael nodded before letting out a weary sigh.
"I'm going to tell you a story, our story, or what it would've been anyway."
Samael straightened up at that and turned to listen intently.
"Mom and Dad conceived of Lucifer and I at the very same time, but Darkness has always come before Light, so They brought me into being first. For the first few moments of my existence, I was alone. Time wasn't exactly measured back then and it's too difficult to fathom the time equivalent compared to the way time moves now. It could've been nanoseconds or centuries before Lucifer showed up. I know how it felt though. It felt like an eternity. I felt cold and lonely, incomplete and off-balance. Existing was painful and I didn't know why it hurt so much. Then Lucifer came into being and everything settled down, everything stopped hurting. We reached out to each other, and our souls bonded instantly. All those empty places inside of me filled with Light. All the jagged edges of Darkness softened just a bit. Power balanced with Will balanced with Power. A perfect equilibrium. Without ever saying anything, we decided that we belonged to one another in a way no one else could understand. Then we created and spun stars, moons, planets and galaxies across the nothingness of space as a manifestation of that belonging more so than it was ever a manifestation of Dad's Will."
"That sounds beautiful," Samael whispered with awe in his voice.
"It was, for a while. We were enough for each other, we didn't need the Host or a God or a Goddess. But they needed us. They needed a Sword and Commander to battle against the forces of Chaos. They needed a Lightbringer to illuminate the Silver City and spark the others to Create as well. The equilibrium between us began to be tested by all these new expectations. Then Father "gifted" us with another domain. Suddenly, I had Fear within my purview as well. It had its uses in wartime but in peacetime, alongside Darkness and Power, it was a volatile mixture, one that did not endear me to the Host. Lucifer gained Desire. It was never simply just carnal desire, he could constantly reflect the wants of others. He was Will, exercising His in a way the others of the Host could not. They didn't understand it, but it drew them to Him nonetheless. That shift changed so much about us, fundamentally. When we were alone, we were one. But when surrounded by our family, we couldn't last. Our paths began to diverge. We both bowed under the weight of our sins. He gave in to pride and lust while I gave in to envy and greed. We blamed one another because we weren't able to understand why we couldn't hold on to each other anymore. We hurt each other again and again, escalating in our cruelty towards one another at every turn. We knew each other intimately so we were best equipped to hurt each other. We broke each other and we broke ourselves. Eventually, the only solution that seemed logical was for one of us to be gone. So there was a Rebellion and He fell, literally. Or rather, I pushed Him. Even then it wasn't enough, not for me. I still felt the need to prove that I was better than Him."
Michael paused there, glancing at Samael who was still listening with rapt attention, a telltale wetness to his eyes.
"Centuries later, we found ourselves in a coliseum fighting for the throne of Heaven. I called for a fight to the death. I pushed the circumstances so that Lucifer chose death, ran towards it. I thought the thing that I would feel when He died was triumph, satisfaction. It would be the ultimate victory. I would finally prove once and for all to our entire family that I was better than him. There could be no denying my supremacy if I was God. But I was a fool and I didn't know myself half so well as I thought I did. The second I looked at Lucifer and I realized what He was going to do, what I felt was panic and fear. I didn't want Him to do it, I didn't want Him to die but He left before I could stop Him. For a moment there was nothing and then there was the feeling of His soul being ripped apart, of Him burning, dying. I didn't push Him into the fire physically this time, but my actions made Him burn again. And my soul, it… I've never felt… there aren't words I can use to describe how it felt. I used to understand my bond with Lucifer, what it meant, how our souls operated together, how they would react to one another's. I forgot what it was like in the Beginning, but what I felt in the coliseum was ten times worse."
Michael felt a tear run down his cheek as he thought of the bone-deep gut-wrenching agony that had hit him all at once. He was surprised he wasn't brought to his knees in an instant that day, but perhaps he had been too shocked for it. He thought he had gotten used to it, living with his lame side for so long, but feeling Lucifer's death was a whole other level of pain. He looked up as Samael's finger brushed his cheek, softly wiping away the tear from his face before he scooted a little closer to Michael and reached out to take his hand, his right hand. Michael stared at their intertwined fingers for a moment before continuing.
"I barely had time to think about what it meant before the Miracle was alive and attacking me with a strength no human should possess. I thought about fighting her off, killing her again. But what would be the point? Lucifer was gone, His soul was destroyed. The thought of living with Him gone… I was an idiot to believe I could've ended Him. I might as well have though, it was my fault He was gone. I wanted it to end, I begged the Miracle to kill me, to use the Flaming Sword and erase me from existence because I couldn't… I just couldn't. But then He was back somehow. One of Father's loopholes, I suppose. He spared me physically, but spiritually? Our souls never bonded again. He rejected me. I mean, all of the Host did, but He rejected me. He's gone on to forge a new bond with the Miracle, and why wouldn't he? She was made for Him. My soul is still in the state it was in when His soul was destroyed. It doesn't know, it can't recognize that He's out there somewhere, that I'm not alone because the truth is, I am. It's like the Beginning all over again. All the empty places and those sharp edges are back. The constant agony of being incomplete is back. This time, it's my fault. There is a void growing inside of me, getting larger every day. Wave after wave constantly battering an already damaged soul. It will overtake me one day. If you stay, it will drag you down too."
"Michael…" Samael started, moving even closer to him.
"You think I don't feel the Darkness and Power waiting to consume me, to twist me into something I don't recognize, someone I would hate to be? You think I don't feel the agony of incompleteness every second of every day? It's already dragging me down. That's what I've been saying this whole time. I am well acquainted with those jagged edges and those dark corners, intimately. That growing void is all I've ever known. I don't know what's crueler: never knowing what it is to be whole or knowing exactly what it would take but being unable to do anything to fix it. The only time I've felt the pressure let up, even a little bit, was the moment you opened that door and I saw your face."
Michael looked away with a lump in his throat. Samael's voice, full of hope, was too much for him to bear head on.
"I saw your soul, Michael. I can see it right now. It's fractured, broken. I see all the dark places that are so easy to get lost in and I can see the hints of light that are still there, just waiting for someone to call them out into the open. That's why I'm here. When I heard about you, it wasn't just the prospect of my pain ending that drew me here. It was the knowledge that I might be able to end your suffering too. Nothing you've said has made me want to turn and run, if anything it only makes me more determined to stay if it means I can help you."
"Help me? I did this to myself. Every action, every wrong decision, brought me here. I paved the road to my own destruction."
"I think there's plenty of blame to go around. Mother and Father certainly have Their fair share of it, and you do too. Knowing myself as I do, I'd wager my other self is hardly faultless either. But that doesn't mean you should just be left here to wither away."
"You don't get it."
"Don't I?"
"No, you don't! I don't deserve a second chance! You have some idealized version of me in your head because you've never known me, not really. But if you did, you wouldn't be here right now. You would run in the opposite direction just like… like Lucifer did. He— he abandoned me, he rejected me, completely. And he was right to. I abandoned him first, over and over again. I threw him into an abyss, I pushed him over the edge literally and figuratively, I made his life miserable. This is the result of it. I deserve to be alone. I spent my whole life fearing that loneliness, resenting it, wishing for the opposite and yet everything I did only drove me towards that reality. Lucifer was right. We were dealt the same hand, the same face, the same shoulders, but I had a chip so big on mine, I self-actualized it and I have no one to blame but myself for how I am now," Michael recalled with a bitter smile.
"So it's not fair, after everything that I did, for you to show up here: young and innocent and clueless to everything that I've done and offer me a chance I haven't earned."
"Innocent? I've done bad all by myself, no twin or chip on my shoulder required. In fact, I made a point of sowing the seeds of misery everywhere I went just to prove to Mother and Father that my actions, good or bad, were down to my choices and no one else's influence. You don't know half of what I put my siblings through. I might not have killed anyone, but I certainly made sure they suffered. I thought it was fair that my pain was spread out and shared amongst the Host."
"That— that was different. Mom and Dad wronged you directly. They could've helped you at any point but chose not to."
"You don't need to make excuses for me. I've long stopped doing so. I could not control what Mother and Father did to me, but I could control my response to it. That I chose to turn around and hurt others because I was hurt is a sin I can never truly make up for. My siblings had no blame for what had been done to me. It was wrong for Mother and Father to do what they did to me because of their own mistakes. It was wrong for them to hurt you as I know they did. They had to have been even worse parents to you and your Lucifer than they were to me considering they rewrote him down to his very soul and wouldn't even let you exist at all. I'll never forgive them for that, on both of your behalf. I think I'm even angrier about what they did to the two of you than I am about what they did to me. Even still, it was wrong of me to take out my anger on my siblings just as it was wrong for you to take your pain out on the ones who you hurt. There is fault and guilt to be passed around quite a bit amongst us all. That doesn't mean I'm willing to just leave you here alone, especially if you're hurting as bad as I know you are. I don't intend to make myself a hypocrite by condemning you for what you've done when knowing all the while that I am hardly any better. I deserve to suffer for my sins too. You served your sentence in Hell. If anything, I'm the one escaping my deserved punishment, not you."
"You don't even know me."
"But I do. I've always known you, even when you weren't there. I know you, the good and the bad. I still want you, I care anyway. It's just a matter of you accepting that and allowing me to be here with you, to be here for you."
"It's not that simple."
"But it could be. You just have to say yes."
"But I won't— I can't—"
"You're not worth it? You're going to hurt me? You don't deserve it? I heard everything you said, but don't you think it should be up to me whether or not I'm willing to risk this going sideways? I understand all the possibilities, I'm not going into this blind. I hope you also understand that there is every chance that I may hurt you just as much as there's a chance you may hurt me. In fact, it's almost a certainty that somewhere along the way both of us will be hurt. I'm willing to try anyway, just say that you are too."
Samael reached out his hand to him, his palm slightly glowing with the light of his soul. Michael looked down at it, his thoughts and emotions a mess that he had no idea how to begin to untangle. How did the day end here? He was resolved to spend his nights as he usually did, alone and ruminating on his many regrets. Now there was Samael and a chance that he didn't deserve, and it was probably going to end in disaster for everyone.
But what if it didn't, a small part of him wondered.
What if, impossibly, this thing between them worked and he got a second chance of having his twin back, or a version of him anyway? Samael couldn't replace Lucifer. There was history between Michael and Lucifer, good and bad, that couldn't just be erased or overwritten. He could forge a new history with Samael though.
Michael was at ground zero again, he had been forcibly flung back to the Beginning. He was alone in the dark again, with no God or Goddess to look to, no siblings to connect with, no twin to make him whole. Samael had appeared once more to save him from being alone. Did he dare to turn him down? This was the only chance he was going to get.
So, just as he had in the Beginning, he reached out and took Samael's hand. All those empty places filled with Light. All the jagged edges of Darkness softened just a bit. Power balanced with Will, Darkness balanced with Light, Fear balanced with Desire. Sin and Guilt matched with equal Sin and Guilt. Broken souls, still damaged and scarred but full and complete, nonetheless. A perfect equilibrium. The Demiurge whole once more. A bond reforged.