Summary: Michael makes an unpopular decision and there are several reunions.
"Absolutely not."
"Sam—"
"No, Michael."
"Will you just hear me out?"
"There's nothing to hear out because it's not happening."
"I—"
"No."
Michael sighed frustratedly as he sat back against Dr. Martin's couch and turned to the blonde who had been silently watching the twins' argument.
"See what I mean? He's being completely unreasonable," Michael complained.
"I'm not being unreasonable. I'm being non-negotiable. There's a difference," Sam retorted.
"You really want to play semantics right now?"
"Seeing as how you've lost your mind, why not?"
Michael scoffed in reply, but his answer was cut short by Dr. Martin raising her hand.
"Alright, guys. Let's call a time-out."
The twins glanced at one another and then huffed and looked away, both crossing their arms over their chests defensively. When they realized they had mirrored each other's actions, they dropped their arms. Sam shifted closer to his corner of the couch and crossed his legs primly while Michael placed his hands in his lap, one hand clutching the other. Dr. Martin looked between the two of them, both exasperated and amused.
"As much as I think arguments can be beneficial, they should also come to a resolution point. I'd like to help with that, but it's a little difficult when I have no clue what you're arguing about in the first place."
"Didn't mention your little idea to Linda, did you? What? Afraid she'll think you're as insane as I do?"
"Lucifer, let's refrain from that kind of language," Dr. Martin chastised before turning to Michael.
"Now, what is it you haven't told me? Feel free to only share if you're comfortable doing so but I can't mediate this argument unless I know what it's about."
Sam opened his mouth, but Dr. Martin cut him off.
"I'd rather hear it from Michael."
His brother blustered wordlessly but didn't speak as he tapped his leg in impatience. Somewhere inside, Michael smirked at the former Devil turned God being hushed by a mere mortal woman. However, he was afraid of the disapproval of that same mortal woman so who was he to judge?
"I told you about what happened with Trixie," he started.
Dr. Martin nodded, her expression still open and receptive.
"During that… debacle, she asked me why her father had to die, why it was in Dad's plan? And I realized, I didn't have an answer. I never knew why He made me do any of the things that I did. It crushed my soul, I knew they were wrong, I didn't want to do them, but I did them anyway. I didn't let myself question the point of it all. It was in His plan and He was God, it didn't matter why He wanted it to be done. I had to do it, no questions asked. But now? Now, I'm questioning it. Now, I want answers. Not just for myself, but for Trixie as well and Daniel, Remiel, Chloe, you, Sam and Amenadiel and everyone else I've hurt. I need to know why. The only way I can do that is if I talk to Dad about it and get the answers straight from Him."
Dr. Martin's eyes widened slightly.
"You want to see your father? Is that even possible?"
"Gabriel has the ability to travel through dimensions. She can open a doorway to Mom's universe. She could take me there or bring Dad here. The former would be safer for everyone."
"Safe? What's safe about you putting yourself back in that man's crosshairs? He nearly destroyed you and you want to go running back to Him to give Him the chance to do it again," Sam pointed out.
"I would take precautions so He wouldn't be able to touch me."
"You and I both know He doesn't need to lay a finger on you to hurt you. He can inflict irreparable damage with His words alone."
Michael couldn't argue that point but that didn't mean he was ready to back down.
"I'm well aware of the risks. I'm the one who was enduring His treatment all these years, I know what He's capable of better than you do. I'm not being naïve or reckless for the sake of self-destruction. I'm doing this for a reason."
"Closure," Dr. Martin offered.
Michael turned to her inquiringly.
"You want closure. Your father left, putting an end to the active abuse He was inflicting on you, but as you've pointed out before, you didn't even get to say goodbye. There was no final conversation between the two of you, He was just gone and then everything in the arena happened, then it was over. But for you, there hasn't truly been a resolution, has there? And I'm sure you may have more questions than just the one Trixie brought up. Am I right?"
Michael nodded wordlessly.
"But is it worth it? Are answers that may never satisfy you worth risking your life for," Sam questioned.
"Lucifer, you've spent time in Hell with damned souls. Enough time to understand the profound effect of guilt and remorse, misplaced or otherwise. Michael is in a very similar position to those souls. To move forward, he feels he has to face what he fears and what has hurt him head on. He needs you to be supportive of that. Why can't you," Dr. Martin asked, her tone professional and neutral.
She was not expressly taking sides, but Michael felt he had her understanding if not her approval and that did make him feel a little better. It'd be best if he had Sam's though.
He looked at his twin searchingly as he continued closing himself off. He didn't speak or look at Michael. He held his body away from him and closer to his corner of the couch, drawing a sad huff from the dark angel.
"Sam, I know you're afraid to lose me again. If I'm being honest, that prospect frightens me too. I never wanted to leave you behind in the first place. I never wanted to turn my back on you or make you believe you were a monster. That happened because I cast you into Hell, which happened because Dad made me. We've spent so long apart and now these past few months have given me a taste of what we lost and hope that we can build something new, something different but still good after millions of years of bad. But, I've spent almost my entire existence in thrall to a man who made me believe the worst of myself, who turned me into a villain, who made me destroy countless lives, who made me a tool for misery and destruction. The horrors I've committed in His name will never be washed out of my soul, ever. I need to take control of myself and my life. I need to be my own person again. To do that, I need to understand why I've had to live my life the way I have been. And maybe I won't get answers, or they won't be satisfying, or He'll find some new way to hurt me, but I owe it to myself to try."
He watched his brother sigh before he unwound himself and moved closer to Michael, taking his unblemished hands in his.
"I know I'm being selfish. I hear everything you're saying, and I get why you want to do this. It's just that the idea of you being in the same universe as Him, let alone the same room, is too much for me to think about. He never planned for you to live, He never planned for any of us to know the truth. What if He decides He ought to fulfill His plan after all? What if He tries to keep you in that universe or manipulates you into…"
"Into what? Staying with Him? You think I'd choose Him," Michael realized with disbelief.
"I did," Sam admitted in a shame-filled whisper.
"What," Michael asked in confusion.
Sam looked down, a shaky breath leaving him as he continued speaking mournfully.
"I chose Him over you. I forgave Him. I bloody well wept like a child when He left. I wanted Him to stay because… because I loved Him and I hated you. I chose Him after He traumatized you, broke you. I mean, He broke me enough that I wanted to rip out every piece of myself that reminded me of Him. I mutilated myself over and over again to try and get some distance from Him. Then He gives some half-assed apology, spouts His usual cryptic nonsense and I bought it. Hook, line and sinker, I bought it and I played into His hand."
"You wanted a father. That's what all of us ever wanted from Him. Even then, when I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of His Commands, I still wanted Him to show me He cared. I would've done anything and forgiven anything if I thought He loved me. I don't blame you for that. You're not wrong for wanting our father to be a father to you."
"And to get that father, useless as He was, I decided to sacrifice my own twin brother. I helped Him to further enact His plan to destroy you and I felt justified while doing it. If you had to choose, it's hardly much of a competition between us. I've disfigured you, taken your wings and banished you to Hell for centuries to scrub the floors and then told myself and everyone else that that was mercy. I promised you a second chance and then that's what I did. I'm no better than Him."
"That is not true," Michael denied vehemently.
"But—"
"No. You need to hear me when I say this. You are not anything like Dad. You never have been and you never will be. You are a good man."
"I've done horrible things."
"So have I. So has every angel in every order of the Host. The difference is you recognize your failings, you try to make up for them, you do your best to grow and change. That is the mark of a good man. Dad's had billions of years of existing before He ever made us to change and He never has. All He's done is more of the same: the same cruelty, the same lies, the same terror and brutality and fear. There's nothing warm about Him, or true, or forgiving, or kind. There's nothing of Him in you. I barely chose Him when I didn't have the luxury of making up my own mind. You think I'm going to choose Him now, when I've got the ability to determine what I want?"
"Well, at least He hasn't broken His promise to you. I swore we'd be by each other's side forever and I abandoned you long before He ever made you abandon me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Before the Rebellion, the way I behaved towards you."
Michael bit his lip and glanced away briefly. There was a time between the War against Chaos and the Rebellion before Dad started placing Commands on Michael where Sam had just… changed. He was the Lightbringer and Angel of Desire, he was always the center of attention in a way Michael had never liked. In the Beginning, Sam had expressed that he didn't like it either, that it made him feel used for his abilities. After the War against Chaos, his twin's tune seemed to have changed. He craved the attention, he basked in it, he let them stroke his ego and grew more and more vainglorious and prideful. Michael called him out on it, but his words had little effect. So, when Sam's fan club came swarming around for his attention, Michael would go off on his own. He didn't fit in with the other angels anyway. It was clear to him that he set his siblings on edge, everything about him had been deemed lacking or unseemly or shameful even before his back was injured and his body became twisted. He wasn't good enough to be an angel of the Lord let alone an Archangel. To have gained the title of Prince and Sword was especially egregious. The others believed he had lied or manipulated his way to the titles in some way. They did not say as much around Dad because that would be seen as questioning His Will, but they certainly let Michael know their feelings. Sam's voice had been among those dissenters.
Weaselly coward. My crooked little shadow. Manipulative troll. Envious fiend. Spineless. Pathetic. Sinner.
Those were Sam's words at the time and there had been even worse insults as time went on. Despite that, Michael hadn't given up trying to fix what was broken between them until Dad got involved. Then things got even more complicated. Sam wanted Dad to grant them Free Will and he pushed things and rebelled in small ways long before he ever raised a blade for his cause. Dad would send Michael to deal with Sam's various messes and his twin would get incensed when Michael wouldn't take his side, not realizing that he couldn't. His rebukes against Michael were even harsher then. He would be lying if he said it hadn't hurt.
"You know what I'm talking about. I can see it from the look on your face. I hurt you deliberately. I was cruel, downright nasty, just because I was jealous of you. It was so stupid."
"Jealous of me?"
"How could I not be? You were always so steady, so sure of yourself. You didn't have to feign confidence, you didn't need a legion of siblings to bolster your self-esteem and provide a personality to you through their own desires. You knew who you were, you were secure in what you could do. You didn't need Dad's validation, everyone could see that. That's why they hated you so much. That's why they still hate you now. It wasn't your Fear, they could've seen past that if they wanted to. It's because you were brave and courageous without Dad ever having to tell you how to be. You could make decisions independent of Him. Why else would He have you running the place even while He had you as His personal slave? Because despite how much He was trying to break you, you had an inner strength that wouldn't allow Him to succeed. Any other angel would've died ages ago, but you had the Power to keep fighting, to keep living. You had Will, you've always had it."
"I don't have Will. That's ridiculous. Will of the Demiurge is your literal title."
"I have God-given Will, but you? I don't know, you just always had an innate conviction and desire to define yourself outside of Him. After we finished Creating in the Void, you chose to excel at fighting. It was through your determination that you became the Sword of God. Dad assigned you the role, but not because He gave you the ability. You cultivated it on your own. None of the other angels are like that."
"Dad didn't name you as the Angel of Music, but you always excelled at it. How was I any different," Michael protested.
"We had whole choirs and scores of singers. I wasn't doing anything special. And yes, we had our legions of soldiers, but you stood out above the rest. You weren't just marching in Dad's fife, you were a leader before He ever officially named you as Commander. The Host saw it, He saw it, and I saw it too. I was jealous of it. I wanted to be like you and I didn't know how. I didn't know how to exist on my own. I always needed someone to balance me out, someone to help me understand who I was. For so long, I only really knew myself through you. Light doesn't really have any meaning without Darkness. Yes, I had Will but I didn't have the Power to exercise it without you there to help me, to guide me, to keep me from going off the rails. I needed you but it seemed like you didn't need me. I was envious of that. I felt weak and compared to you, I couldn't… I knew I would just hold you back if I ever said as much to you, so I thought it would be better to start putting some distance between us. Our siblings were only too eager to try to fill the void, but they never could. When I saw you, you seemed perfectly fine on your own. It didn't seem like you missed me and that hurt, so I wanted to hurt you back. I took our siblings' sides when they would make fun of you or harm you. I isolated you. All of that pushed you towards Dad. I may as well have served you up to Him on a platter. I'm sorry, Michael. I owe you so many apologies, but this one is eons overdue. I'm sorry for every cruel word I uttered to you. I'm sorry for not being by your side. I'm sorry for turning my back on you. I'm sorry for leaving you alone."
Michael stared at his twin, stunned. He wasn't even sure where to begin with this. He looked towards Dr. Martin helplessly, mentally begging for her to save him from floundering.
"Michael, what are you feeling right now?"
"Umm, confusion is pretty much overriding everything else right about now."
"What are you hearing Lucifer say?"
"A lot of bizarre things for someone who had the gall to call me insane a few minutes ago."
"Well, what I heard is that Lucifer admired your strong sense of self and willpower when you were younger. I'm hearing him say that he believes you possessed a sense of individuality that he and the rest of your siblings lacked. He felt that he may have held you back, so he pulled away from you. However, in doing so he grew to miss you and felt that that feeling was not returned. He and the rest of your siblings consciously ostracized you because they felt they couldn't measure up to you. I believe he is saying that he thinks that your father may have targeted you because He recognized those same qualities in you. As a result of the deliberate shunning by your siblings, Lucifer thinks you were driven towards your father which led to you enduring the years of torment that followed."
Michael glanced over to Sam to see if he was going to refute the doctor's words, but he didn't.
He leaned back, mystified. He barely remembered his early days before his father placed the Commands on him, before he started feeling depressed and weary. He supposed the feelings came after his father's attention increased. Before that Michael had been perfectly happy on his own if things had shaken out that way, but mostly he wasn't alone. He had Sam, until he didn't. He hadn't ever precisely known why Sam's behavior had suddenly shifted. It must've been during the fight against the forces of Chaos. Michael had risen as a fighter and Sam had not. Fighting was not his forte and he had been so hung up on equating fighting with Destruction that he didn't put his all into it the way he did other things. After the fighting had ended, Michael had been confident in himself and his abilities. He had seen what he could do, he didn't need to look to anyone to assure him of his power, not even Sam. He certainly hadn't been looking to his father anymore to tell him what his purpose was. Michael had felt he found it in protecting Creation and helping life grow. He was already an Angel of Creation after all, to defend that Creation and any future life that would be Created had felt right. He had made a habit back then of going out on his own to scour the universe for any remnants of Chaos or any other dark creatures that could threaten the universe. He faced off against primordial beings and defeated them. He had befriended and courted ancient powers that were gods in their own right. He had done what he wanted and he hadn't really asked permission. After being the leader for so long on a battlefield, he wasn't used to taking orders anymore, he just did what he felt was right.
"Michael, do you want to share what you're thinking," Dr. Martin prompted.
"It didn't occur to me that anything I was doing would seem different to the Host. They always looked to Dad for confirmation that they were doing what they were supposed to, that they were on the right path, but I never had to. I always looked to Sam for approval or confidence or reassurance. I felt the same way that he did. I didn't think of myself as a single entity. I always defined myself through him. We were never just twins, we're the Demiurge. We were nestmates and soulmates. Our souls are literally connected. We're part of each other. We developed our powers together while we were alone in the Void. Father and Mother were only around in the Beginning and we didn't see our siblings for centuries at a time. It was natural that we looked to each other for guidance. We became reliant on each other over Dad or Mom. Our family used to chastise us for that all the time. They would say it was unholy, blasphemous, but it had seemed right. I think you would label that as co-dependence."
Dr. Martin had a considering look.
"In human terms, yes, probably. But I also recognize that it's hard to fit that label to those heightened set of circumstances. I don't fully understand what it means to be the Demiurge, but I understand enough to know it goes deeper than just being twins. Amenadiel has explained nestmate bonds to me, so I know how close and intimate that relationship is. Soulmates are pretty self-explanatory. You were all three of those on top of being twins. I expect your connection was separate and unique amongst the host. It sounds like it wasn't an unhealthy relationship to begin with. What do you feel shifted the dynamic between yourself and Lucifer?"
"When the Wars started, things changed. I was on the front lines and Sam wasn't by my side anymore. I couldn't look to him because he wasn't there. Mother's orders. She thought he was better suited to helping to defend the Silver City and Sam didn't like all the killing anyway. When he did join us on the battlefield, I never really got to see him. I was there for centuries without him. When I got back, I suppose our dynamic was different as a result. I would leave the Silver City often to try to clean up the remnants of the War across the universe. I would invite him sometimes but he would refuse to join me so I stopped. He didn't stay very often in our nest and made up excuses whenever I offered to preen his wings. He started spending more time with our siblings and getting angrier with me. I didn't know what was wrong. I didn't realize I left him behind when I had to become Dad's Commander and Sword. I hadn't seen it that way. I just thought it was something I could share with him when I got back from the front."
"You didn't abandon me, Mi. I was just being a brat."
"Well, I don't think you abandoned me either or that you pushed me towards Dad. Do you really think that anything would've changed Dad's mind after He decided what He was going to do to me?"
"But I—"
"You made mistakes and I did too. We're so far from those angels, that might as well have been another lifetime. You can't hold yourself accountable for everything Dad's ever done to me but then turn around and tell me I can't hold myself accountable for anything He's ever made me do," Michael pointed out.
"I've never claimed I wasn't a hypocrite."
"Hypocrisy's just another word for lying. And you're not a liar, so cut it out."
"You know, just because you're about a nanosecond older than me doesn't mean you can boss me around. Especially considering my very recent job promotion," Sam shot back.
Michael took note of the attempt to pull them out of the doldrums of their conversation and he definitely appreciated the lifeline.
"I've got a few billion years of bossing you around to make up for, little brother. I've got to start some time."
Sam shot him a mock glare at the nickname and Michael gave him a cheeky grin back before scooting a little closer to his brother.
"Sam, look at me."
His brother dragged his eyes up and met Michael's gaze.
"For the record, I would never choose Him over you. I plan on coming back. You're stuck with me now, whether you like it or not."
Sam gave him a small boyish grin that reminded Michael of their early days again and he couldn't help but return it.
"I suppose I've been stuck with worse."
"When I come back, we can discuss in copious details just how ridiculous I think it is that you were ever jealous of me and we can dredge up some more centuries-old misunderstandings."
"Oh, I'm sure we'll line the doctor's pockets for years to come. Make sure Charlie gets into every prestigious school in the market along his academic career."
"Like your sessions alone haven't already funded that."
"Private preschools are actually ridiculously expensive in California, go figure," Dr. Martin piped up, reminding them once more of her presence.
"There are some loose ends here, and as you've indicated, we're not going to be able to resolve those deeper issues in one sitting but the main purpose of this talk was to help Lucifer understand Michael's decision to seek a conversation with your father. Have you reached a place of understanding, Lucifer," Dr. Martin questioned.
"I understand why you want to talk to Him, Mi. I just don't like it and I certainly don't approve of it. But I can't stand in your way, not if this is what you truly want. However, there has to be safeguards in place. You're not walking into that place without every protection possible, both on our end and theirs."
"Of course. Given the circumstances, it would be irresponsible of me to suggest that Michael should walk into this situation unprepared. I would like a one-on-one session before you go to prepare you mentally. You all will know better than me what physical precautions to take but I don't believe you should go alone, Michael."
"I can tag alo—"
"No."
"Not a good idea."
Both Michael and Dr. Martin protested before Sam could finish the sentence.
"Lucifer, your anger towards your father is justified but this is not the time for you to express that anger and knowing you as I do, I know you would not be able to stop yourself from retaliating against him."
"She's right. You're the one who said you would've burned that universe to the ground if given the chance. The last thing we need is a war between two separate dimensions because you attempted to incinerate our father. Besides, I need to do this on my own. I need to stand up for myself. I can't have you doing it for me."
Sam didn't look happy about it, but he nodded.
"I do not agree with this. I don't think anything good will come of it, but it's your choice and I'm not willing to take it away from you. I will never knowingly put you in that position again."
Michael felt a swell of affection and warmth in his chest at the words. He used their linked hands to pull him into a hug.
"Thank you for understanding."
"Let me see if I have this straight. After everything you've suffered and all the healing you've had, you want to leave the safety of this universe to go and see Dad in order to demand answers, knowing full well what He's capable of, and that there's every possibility that you won't get any answers anyway?"
Michael looked up at his siblings as the surprised question rang in the air. Siblings, plural. That was the biggest surprise as far as he was concerned.
When Sam had said he was going upstairs for a quick visit and would be returning with some more concrete plans for Michael's trip, he was not expecting that his brother wouldn't come alone. Not only had Amenadiel accompanied him but Gabriel, Raphael, Cassiel and Duma had also filed into the penthouse.
Michael had stared at the four of them in shock. They all looked the same as when he last saw them. Then again, why wouldn't they? Not that much time had passed for them even though it had been centuries for Michael due to the time difference in Hell. Still, he drank them all in, a part of him having missed the siblings who had been kinder to him than the rest.
Cassiel was a tall man, though not as tall as Sam and Michael, who looked to be in his late 20s with caramel brown skin and his coarse hair shaved close to his head. He had golden irises and a dragon sleeve tattoo covering his right arm. Michael had had to help him hide it from Father who never liked His children making any modifications to what He had Created. It was why He had begun to largely ignore Gabriel's existence after she began presenting herself in her female form full-time. Cass had been Michael's main help at the Gates of Heaven, assisting in judging souls before allowing them into the Silver City or banishing them to Hell. He had grown a sort of tolerance to Michael's Fear due to the continued proximity. Once he saw past the Fear, it allowed them to form a closer relationship.
Raphael was even shorter than the rest of them and look like he was in his late 30s to early 40s despite being younger than half the people in the room, but he had always had the most calming presence. He needed it as Heaven's healer. His curly hair was in ringlets down to his broad shoulders and brushing across the dark brown skin of his forehead. Gabriel had recently begun to joke that he looked like a Bollywood movie star and had been trying to convince him to leave his medical wing to try his hand at acting to little success. Michael had had to spend a lot of time in Raphael's healing halls after encounters with Father. He never expressly told his brother what happened between him and their father, but he had the feeling Raphael already knew. He would visit Michael's room to check on him randomly, never asking questions but always bringing new potions and elixirs to ease his pain. He had tried harder than even Father had to heal Michael's wing and back after he had been injured. The healer had taken it to heart that he was not able to cure him, even though Michael had never blamed his younger brother. If God couldn't (or wouldn't) heal him, what hope did anyone else have?
Duma had also taken it to heart. The Angel of Silence and Heaven's Librarian had thought it his duty to scour every text available to see Michael restored after Father had refused to heal him. Even with all three of them working on the problem, they had not found a solution. He had, however, found ways to help Michael cope. Still, Duma had seen it as a failure. His brother had been one of the few angels to never shun Michael or talk behind his back, and not just because Duma never spoke. He was friendly by nature and usually had a genial smile on his young-looking face. The blonde was smiling at Michael now, his green eyes twinkling with happiness that he couldn't verbally express. No one was smiling wider than Gabriel though.
His sister looked like she wanted to start bouncing off the walls. She was practically vibrating with energy, her eyes aglow with happiness. He half-expected her wings to pop out in her excitement.
"I think he might be surprised to see us," Cassiel had quipped, amusement playing across his handsome face.
"Just a bit," Michael replied, shaking from his stupor.
"What are you doing here," he asked incredulously.
"We wanted to see you, duh," Cassiel answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"We would've visited sooner, but Lucifer said you weren't ready yet. You are doing better, right?" Raphael piped up, looking at him with both concern and a familiar assessing look that any angel who had spent some time in the Angel of Healing's care would recognize.
"I'm… yeah, yeah I'm doing a lot better."
"Good, then I can do this," Gabriel announced before Michael found himself with an armful of his very eager sister. He had to plant his feet quickly, so they didn't go toppling to the floor.
"Oh, Mikey, you have no idea how much I missed you. The Silver City is such a bummer without my favorite bro around."
Michael smiled at that and leaned into the hug. Gabriel had been an outcast at one time and still was at times. Michael had been the first to notice the subtle shifting when she was transitioning into her female form. He kept it secret and had supported her when she finally made the full transition and came out to their family, who were not pleased. They had seen it as a radical rejection of Father's Will. Mother had been around then. It was one of the few times She had zealously advocated for one of them to Father and She had made sure that Gabriel would not be punished or forced to return to her male form. She had switched back and forth for a time but recently she had felt more comfortable presenting as female. It had been thousands of years but some of their siblings still held it against her. Michael couldn't control the whispers, but he had enough sway and power to make sure no one felt bold enough to insult her to her face. He had also ensured she would not lose her status in the Silver City and spread enough Fear so that no one even entertained the idea of laying a finger on her for any ridiculous ideas of divine retribution. With siblings like Sandalphon, Metatron and Ibriel, it was a distinct possibility. Gabriel had been grateful for his loyalty and repaid it with her own, staying by his side as a confidant and ally. She had been a balm to his soul in his greatest times of need.
"I missed you too, Gabe," he confessed, squeezing her a little tighter.
He didn't really let himself think about that often. He had Sam back and that consumed a lot of his emotional bandwidth, along with dealing with his… well, everything. But in Sam's absence, there had been Gabriel. It wasn't the same, they didn't share a soul-bond and they weren't nestmates, but it had filled the void enough to keep Michael going. He had accepted that he would probably not see her again any time soon because he wasn't planning on going back to the Silver City. Beyond that, he had thought Gabriel wouldn't want to see him after he had dragged her into Father's plan, making her all but complicit in Remiel's death. Clearly, his worries were unfounded.
They pulled back and Gabriel gave him a once over, her fingers brushing through his hair.
"Look at you, you dork. I think you're outcurling me. But you look so much better. Calmer, healthier, happier. You are happy, right?"
Michael took a moment to think before nodding.
"I am. I have my low moments, but I'm happy," he replied honestly.
"Good. Then I'm happy," she answered.
He smiled in return as Gabriel pulled him into another hug before slotting herself to his side and wrapping an arm around his waist. He glanced over at Sam and Amenadiel who had been watching the exchange. He rose a brow at his twin, asking a silent question.
"I hadn't been planning on bringing them just yet. When I mentioned I needed some volunteers for a mission involving you, I got quite a few offers. A lot of our siblings want to see you. I'm sure many of them are just curious but you have more people that care about you than you think. I allowed the ones I thought you'd most want to see but I didn't want more than five angels coming down to Earth. This isn't the bloody second coming, after all," Sam explained.
"Luci was pretty vague on the details of this mission, so what's going on exactly," Cassiel asked.
Michael glanced at Sam again, but he gestured to him dramatically.
"Oh, no, no, no, brother dearest. It's your insane plan. You're the one that's going to explain it to them. The floor is all yours," he announced before perching himself in the armchair and sitting back like he was about to watch an entertaining show. Michael rolled his eyes in return but turned to his siblings to explain what he wanted to do, which found him here, staring at five incredulous faces.
He ran through Raphael's words in his head again.
"After everything you've suffered and all the healing you've had, you want to leave the safety of this universe to go and see Dad in order to demand answers, knowing full well what He's capable of, and that there's every possibility that you won't get any answers anyway?"
"Well, it does sound foolish when you put it that way, but that's the general gist of it, yes."
"Foolish? Try reckless, dangerous, insane."
"Michael, you just got away from Him. Why would you want to put yourself in such a risky position again," Cassiel asked.
"It's risky, yes. But it's something I need to do. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering. At least this way, I can say I tried."
His siblings shared skeptical looks amongst themselves.
"Look, I've kind of already had this uphill battle with Sam, is there any chance I can skip the argument with you guys," he asked hopefully.
"You agreed to this, Luce," Raphael asked, still incredulous.
Sam shifted in his seat.
"Do I agree to this? Yes. Do I agree with this? No. I think it's utter lunacy. It's pointless and it puts him at an unnecessary risk for too little a reward. Every fiber in my being wants to make sure Mi and Dad are never in a room together again, let alone in the same universe. If Michael never said he wanted to do this, I would still be scouring every known text to make sure our universes stay separate. Actually, I'm going to keep doing that. But Michael made his choice. I can't trample all over it while also being angry at Dad for doing the same. Apparently, that's called hypocrisy and, according to my therapist and my beloved twin, I should shy away from such behavior."
"Are you sure about this, brother," Amenadiel asked him directly, speaking up for the first time. He had been standing there with his face full of contemplation, silently absorbing everything. Michael still wasn't totally used to this new Amenadiel who would sit back without trying to overtake a situation with his usual bullishness and casual violence.
"I'm sure," Michael replied.
"Okay, then I will do all I can to help you."
"Just like that," Raphael asked with disbelief.
"Yes. If Michael needs help, I'll give it."
He gave his older brother a nod of appreciation.
"Thanks, Menny."
"Don't push it," the elder man warned teasingly at the old nickname.
"I'm in too. Whatever you need," Gabriel added.
"Am I the only sane person in the room? Are we honestly considering letting our brother walk right up to his abuser, a literal God, for an afternoon chat over tea," Raphael exclaimed.
"Nah, bro. I'm right there with you," Cassiel backed.
Duma seemed to be on the fence if his conflicted expression was anything to go by.
"That's just the thing. We're not letting Michael do anything. He's made the choice," Sam answered.
"We got that bit."
"But did you really? Guys, he made a choice. A big, life-altering choice. Not because it's what Dad wants or because he was following any Divine Commands or heavenly edicts or any plan. He made it for himself because that's what he wants. When's the last time he got to do that," Gabriel pointed out.
Those words seemed to have struck a cord, because his three younger brothers now considered him differently.
"You really want to do this?" Duma signed to him.
Michael nodded in reply.
"Yes. I really want to do this. I'm not asking you to agree with it. I'm just asking you to respect it."
Cassiel nodded after a moment, but Raphael still regarded him with doubt. Michael could feel his Fears thrumming in the air. Fear of loss. Fear of injury. Fear that Michael would be hurt again and once again, Raphael would be too weak to heal him. Michael found himself drifting towards his younger brother, wishing to ease his Fears.
"Raph, you know I never blamed you for anything that happened. It's not your fault you weren't able to heal my back or fix my wing. It's not your fault I kept getting hurt. You did all you could."
"I'm a healer, Michael. It's my entire purpose. It's what I was created to do. And I enjoy it, it's always been gratifying to see those in my care recover. And there have been times when I have been unsuccessful, but very rarely have I failed. You? I failed you, over and over again. What was the point of healing the wounds as they came when I did nothing to address the source of your pain?"
Michael placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.
"You put yourself on the line more than once. Father didn't want me to be healed after any of the punishments He gave me, and you did it anyway. And I know you lied about the severity of some of my injuries to keep me in the healing halls and away from him. It wasn't your job to protect me then and it isn't now. You didn't fail me, you went above and beyond to help me and I thank you for that, brother."
"Thank me? I didn't save you."
"Does it matter? He's gone. I'm safe."
"So why are you going back to Him?"
"I'm safe but I'm left with all these questions. For my own peace of mind, if there's a chance for answers, I need to take it."
Raphael sighed deeply but nodded in understanding. Michael squeezed his shoulder once more before letting go.
"So what is the plan here exactly? What safeguards will be in place," Cassiel asked.
"I've had some communication with Mum already. She'll get things sorted on Her end. She wants to see Michael before the trip. She says She has something for him. I tried to wheedle it out of Her but got nothing," Sam replied.
Michael felt a small pit of anxiety in his stomach. He really wasn't sure what he felt about his mother most days. He missed Her but he was also angry and hurt by Her too. Ultimately, he nodded in understanding. He would have to confront Her too.
"As for on our end, Duma found a spell that will protect from anyone looking to place any Divine Commands on any angel. Gabriel, Duma, Cass and Raphael, the four of you will be escorting Michael there."
"As will I."
Michael looked over at Amenadiel at the announcement.
"You have Charlie and Linda, you shouldn't risk it."
"I wasn't there to protect you from Father before. I'm going to be standing with you this time. Linda will understand. There's nowhere else I should be but at your side, supporting you. I told you, if you need help, I'll give it."
Michael felt a pulse of warmth in his chest and he nodded in acquiescence.
"There's just one more thing," Sam started, his voice cautious. Michael glanced over at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice.
"What is it?"
"You're not going to like it, but I need you to agree anyway."
"What is it," Michael repeated.
"I want you to take the Flaming Sword with you."
Michael's face fell at that.
"No."
"Michael—"
"I don't want anything to do with that thing ever again."
"It's the most powerful weapon we have in this universe. It's your best defense if the situation should come to worse with Dad."
"I am not going to wield the thing I used to kill our sister. The thing I nearly killed you with."
"Mikey, I know there are bad memories attached to it, trust me, I know. But it won't be used the same way this time. No one innocent will be hurt," Gabriel reassured.
Michael's face fell even further as he turned to his sister. He had made her an accomplice in their younger sister's murder. He hated that he had involved her in Dad's plans. He was certain it hadn't made her any more popular upstairs. He would understand if Gabriel never forgave him for that.
"I'm sorry, Gabe."
His sister frowned in return.
"For what?"
"For involving you in my plans and Dad's. I should've never asked you to go and get the Flaming Sword. What I did with it… I should've never put you in a position to feel any guilt for anything I did. Remiel's… death, that was all my fault. I'm sorry, to all of you. I didn't want to hurt you."
Gabriel gave him a sad smile.
"Mikey, you didn't force me to get the Flaming Sword. Dad didn't Command me to do anything. I did that because I chose to do it, because I trusted you. I still trust you. I know who you are. I know you would've never killed Remiel if your hand hadn't been forced. I do feel guilty about it. If I hadn't ever gotten the Sword then maybe… but that's not on you, it's on me. I made a choice because I had the freedom to. You didn't. You don't have to apologize to me because my choice had consequences that I didn't foresee. I don't blame you for it. I can't honestly say no one in the Silver City does, but I can safely say that no one in this room does."
"She's right. You won't hear us blaming you," Cassiel added.
"We know you, Mike. We know you're grieving Remi just as much as we are. We know you cared about her and loved her. We know she wasn't just a pawn to you," Raphael reassured.
Duma walked up to him silently and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a light squeeze of reassurance.
"Remi's body is buried on Earth, with Uriel. When you're ready, we can say goodbye to her together," Gabriel offered.
Michael bit his lip, his eyes burning. He nodded wordlessly in reply.
"Lucifer's point still stands. Regardless of what the Sword was last used for, you will be able to use it to protect yourself against Father," Amenadiel said.
"There's every chance you won't need it, but as added insurance to guarantee Dad's on His best behavior, it doesn't hurt," Raphael added.
"Please, Mi. If for no other reason than my peace of mind, take the Sword with you," Sam implored.
He looked around the room at his siblings' faces and could clearly see that everyone agreed with Sam on this one. He didn't have any logical arguments against taking the Sword, it was only down to his personal feelings and how many bad memories were attached to it: killing TJ Ross, slaying Remi, using the Sword against Sam in the arena, Chloe holding the blade to his neck as Michael begged for death. He shuddered as the images flashed in his mind.
However, he had promised that he would return from this trip and he did not want this to be another one of his lies. If he was going to return, then that meant going in with every protection possible. That meant taking the Flaming Sword with him.
Michael pursed his lips unhappily but nodded to the visible relief of his siblings.
There was much debate after that about things, but they all agreed finally that they would go during the weekend, giving their mother some more time to get things ready.
Gabriel, Duma, Cassiel, Raphael and Amenadiel all stayed until after dinnertime. It was strangely comfortable. Sam broke out his top-shelf liquor and put on some of his records to play in the background as the siblings all chatted, reminiscing about the past and trading stories, making fun of each other good-naturedly. Amenadiel cooked dinner for them all and dessert. At one point, Sam thought it would be a great idea to play poker, clearly under the misconception that the other angels were clueless about all human games. Of course, they all lost to Duma whose poker face put all of them to shame. Then Gabriel suggested Monopoly, which predictably ended in utter chaos amongst the celestial beings, but it was still a fun night. Probably the most enjoyable one Michael had had with so many members of his family in literal ages.
He found that he was sad when it was time to bid his siblings farewell, but Sam had told them his door was open for them to visit so long as they gave fair warning. They all promised to stop by more often to see Michael. He found that he was smiling as he watched them take off, only feeling the slightest pang of longing for his own lost wings. He turned to Sam, who was sitting by the fireplace, a bottle of bourbon in his hands. Michael strolled over and sat beside him.
"I always wondered, what's with the fireplace? When are you ever going to need it in L.A.?"
"I think it looks fashionable, not that you know too much about that," Sam retorted playfully.
Michael rolled his eyes in response and held out his hand for the bourbon. He took a small sip of the brown liquor before handing the bottle back. He still preferred gin. He glanced at his brother as he rolled his shoulders lightly, a grimace playing across his face.
"What's wrong?"
"My wings. They're itching like the devil. I might've overdone it today when…"
"When…?"
Sam glanced at him briefly out of the corner of his eye, causing Michael to narrow his suspiciously.
"It's no big deal."
"Sam."
His twin shrugged lightly.
"I might've gotten into a little scuffle with Sandalphon is all. Like I said, no big deal."
"Um, yes, big deal. You're God now. You can't get into 'scuffles'."
"I can when a moron angel with an equally moronic name decides it's a swell idea to attack me."
"What? Why? Sandalphon's not the kindest angel, but he's not an idiot."
"He wasn't very enthused about the whole idea of you… you know, existing. I suppose he thought I'd have banished you back to Hell by now. He's having some difficulty understanding that that's never going to happen again. I just helped him reach that understanding."
Michael sighed in response.
"You can't do things like that for me. You're their king now, their God."
"And I'm your brother and twin, of course I had to defend your honor. Sandalphon's the one who had the gall to attack me. I knew it was coming sooner or later considering some of our siblings' feelings towards me, and you for that matter. I just made sure he and everyone else knew I wasn't going to tolerate anything like that."
Michael sighed again. Sandalphon in particular had never liked him, no matter what Michael did. He had given up trying to discern the reason why ages ago and simply avoided him. He didn't think he'd be foolish enough to attack Sam over his dislike of Michael. He wasn't worried that Sandalphon would be able to hurt his twin, but he wasn't so sure it sent the right message that he had clearly taken Michael's side and physically reprimanded another angel for talking against Michael. Then again, it was better to make an example of any angel who had the temerity to physically attack the new Sovereign of Heaven. Sam wasn't the Devil anymore, he was God. If he didn't correct blatant disrespect now, it would only get worse. Michael just wasn't sure he liked it being done on his account.
"I still don't think you should've taken that tact but show me your wings. Let's see the damage."
Sam stood up and shrugged his wings out. Michael stared up at the luminescent feathers. He had always admired his twin's wings, finding them to be among the most beautiful of the Host. They weren't as flashy as Raphael's peacock feathers or Zuriel's electric blue wings, but they were pure and radiant. He could see the signs that they needed grooming and that they had been utilized recently in a fight. There were feathers that were twisted, a few spots where they were ingrown and some brown feathers stuck within the plumes of white, likely from Sandalphon's ochre-colored wings.
"How have you been grooming your wings all this time," Michael asked curiously.
"I did what I could on my own. If I was particularly desperate, I'd ask Mazikeen to do enough to get me through."
"You never asked Chloe to…"
"No. Something like this is sacred between angels. I might desecrate a lot of things our family has considered holy, but never that. I only asked Mazikeen because I didn't have any other options. Don't worry about it. I've been worse off than this. I'll be fine."
"I could groom your wings."
Sam turned to look at him over his shoulder, surprised but cautiously hopeful.
"Are you certain? It's not as if I can return the favor."
"That doesn't mean I can't help you. You can return the favor when my wings are back. If they come back."
"They will come back," Sam replied confidently.
"Maybe. Either way, my offer stands."
Sam nodded after a moment.
"I would like that."
They decided to move to the bedroom where they would have more space. Sam laid down on his stomach and Michael set to work. It had been a while since he had groomed another angel's wings. Sometimes he and Gabriel would engage in some light preening and Raphael had had to massage his right wing periodically so the flight muscles didn't totally atrophy but he had not been part of a full grooming session since before the Rebellion. He could sense that they were both a little fearful of how this would go but they decided to push through it. Michael hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on the white wings. Sam shivered slightly and let out an almost pained hiss. Michael paused, worried he might've hurt him.
"I'm okay, it's just been a while since anyone's touched them, much less another angel. They're more sensitive than I thought," Sam explained, some embarrassment filtering into his voice.
"I'll be gentle," he promised.
Michael carefully ran his fingers through the feathers, not delving deep, simply petting the ivory down to let his brother get used to his touch once more. When he had relaxed a little more, he let his fingers dig in, getting down to the muscle and massaging lightly. Sam shuddered again but reassured him that he was alright. Michael set his attention to straightening out the primaries and tertials as well as kneading the muscles and tendons. Sam slowly relaxed more and more beneath his hands and by the time Michael was done, his brother was mostly asleep.
He smiled down at him and moved to retreat to his bedroom, but an identical hand grabbed him before he could leave and pulled him back down to the bed.
"Stay."
"There's not exactly a lot of space."
Sam wordlessly lifted one of his wings up. Michael chuckled but slid beneath it and cuddled close to his twin. A moment later, the wing covered him like a blanket, wrapping him in warmth. When they were still nestmates, they used to sleep folded up in each other's wings and arms, blissfully unaware that anything could ever come between them. Michael missed those days of childish ignorance sometimes, but mostly he had just missed his brother.
"I missed you," Sam murmured, as if he could read Michael's thoughts.
"And I, you."
"I don't want you to go."
Michael met his brother's heavy-lidded eyes.
"I know. But I need to do this."
Sam sighed but nodded before his wing pulled Michael closer.
He fell asleep that way, safe under Sam's wing.
Today was the day. Preparations had been made. Plans laid. And now they were nearly ready to go. They were just waiting for Gabriel to arrive with their mother. Michael would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He wasn't invited to the retirement party, so he hadn't had a chance to see Her since he threw Her before father for judgement. Part of him reasoned it couldn't be too bad. She forgave Sam for being Her warden in Hell and letting Her be tortured, so there was every chance She would forgive him for raising his blade against Her and letting Her be cast out. Another part of him thought about all the ways he had been hurt by his father before She was gone and after. He had needed Her and She was more consumed with getting their father's attention by any means necessary. But hadn't they all been that way? All of them were desperate for His love, His approval, His attention. The lengths they all went to to get it shamed them all. In short, he didn't know how this was going to go.
Michael looked around the penthouse, adjusting his pauldron. Cassiel had brought his old armor down from the Silver City. Not the armor he wore during the fight in the arena, but the one he wore during the War Against Chaos. He hadn't worn it in eons and didn't even know it was still in the Silver City. He had been reluctant at first. He didn't want to send the message that he was there for a fight. The Flaming Sword already would make things tense, not to mention past circumstances, but all his siblings were insistent that he be as protected as possible. If he was honest, it wasn't an awful feeling to have their concern and consideration. All of them were decked out in their armor as well just in case.
He glanced over to the bar where Sam was going over contingency plans with Amenadiel, Raphael and Cassiel. Sam briefly met his gaze and gave him a wink, prompting Michael to snort in amusement. Sam shot him a wide grin before turning back to his conversation. Michael looked at Duma as he bumped his elbow into his arm to get Michael's attention.
"I'm glad the two of you are nestmates again. You were always better off together than you were apart."
Michael blinked at Duma's signed words. He and Sam had not officially become nestmates again. They hadn't had a conversation about it. Michael could see why Duma would think they were though. They had been nestmates previously and neither had ever seen fit to make another nestmate bond with anyone else, angel or otherwise. Being nestmates for angels wasn't just about sharing a room. It was a committed intimate relationship. It wasn't romantic or sexual in nature, but it wasn't just a close friendship. There was usually a whole structure of courtship before asking someone to be nestmates to show that each partner could provide stability, validation, security and loyalty to their mate. Looking back, he supposed Sam had been doing all those things ever since he got Michael out of Hell. He had taken care of him and nursed him back to health. He had been on his side unwaveringly despite butting heads with Chloe and their siblings as a result. He had given him tokens of his affection such as the feather bracelet. He showed he wanted Michael to share his home with him by bringing down things that were Michael's from the Silver City and making sure there were several spaces of the building that Michael could enjoy as his own. He had even defended his honor against Sandalphon. All that was no small matter. Michael hadn't shown him nearly as much proof that he could care for him. He hadn't been in a position to. He had groomed his wings but that wasn't enough.
I could try, he thought to himself.
He could start putting in the effort to show that he wanted the same thing as Sam. He could get him things, shiny things and beautiful things and things Sam liked. He had already been making sure Sam knew he was not a bad man, not anything like Father. He could validate that even more. He could start taking a more active interest in Sam's reign. He knew the Silver City better than anyone and if Sandalphon felt bold enough to challenge Sam, he doubted he was the only one with a grievance. He could advise Sam, make sure he knew who to watch out for and who was more likely to support him. He could protect him in that way. He could groom and preen Sam's wings whenever he wanted, leave them shiny and glistening in perfection. He would gladly share Sam's home just as they shared their aerie when they were still fledglings. He would gladly be his nestmate again.
Part of him shriveled up in fear at the prospect, the prospect of failing at it again, of betraying him again. What if he couldn't show him that he would be a suitable partner? Was he even ready to be anyone's mate again? He had caused Sam so much pain the last time they had such a bond. What if he did it again? And what about Chloe? Sam loved her, Michael didn't want to keep putting him in a position where he felt he had to choose between the two of them. That dilemma would only get worse if they became nestmates again. It was entirely possible to have separate romantic bonds and nestmate bonds at the same time. Angels used to do it all the time when Dad had still allowed them to interact openly with humans, but the situation between Michael and Chloe was far from amicable. Michael also didn't want to cause Chloe pain by continuing to insert himself in her life by way of Sam. And Trixie had said she would summon him when she was ready but maybe he ought to take a step back in the meantime. But Sam had also been adamant that that was not what he wanted. Dr. Martin would probably say that while it was a good thing Michael was considering everyone's feelings in the matter, he should be valuing his own most. Michael knew what he wanted, he wanted to stay with Sam. But was that the right thing to do for everyone involved? He didn't want to hurt anyone else through his own selfish actions.
He didn't notice he was projecting Fear around the room until there was a nudging in his chest. It felt like warm reassurance and it was not coming from within. His head snapped up to Sam who was watching him cautiously.
Did Sam just…?
His question was answered by another nudge of warmth inside him. There was no doubt that that was Sam's influence but the only way he could do that was with their soul bond. If Michael could feel him, that meant it was coming back. It was still faint and weak. Likely Sam only was able to reach out across it because of his status as God. Still, it was returning. The realization caused a smile to alight Michael's face. They were in a healthy enough place for their soul bond to be returning so what was stopping them from being nestmates? They were soulmates already, being nestmates just made sense.
He would have to start making more overt gestures to show Sam that that was what he wanted.
When I get back, he promised himself.
The promise just gave him even more incentive to return from Mom's universe.
Suddenly, the sound of wings beating filled the air. Everyone turned to look at the balcony where Gabriel was landing with a blonde woman in tow. Michael stared at Her. She was still wearing the visage of Charlotte Richards, but Her aura was unmistakable.
"Mom," he breathed out.
"Hello, my little shadow."
Michael felt his insides twist at the endearment. Part of him wanted to go to Her, to hug Her but he found himself rooted to the spot, watching as She approached him. She stopped in front of him, her eyes looking him over. He had no idea what she was seeing.
She reached up, Her fingers lightly brushing the scar on his face before Her hand drifted to his bad shoulder.
"Oh, my dear boy. How unkind He was to you and how blind I was not to see it," She lamented, her voice full of sorrow.
Michael felt another swell of emotion hit him and clog his throat so he couldn't speak.
"I was away from you for too long."
"And whose fault was that," he muttered, his voice full of self-deprecation.
"The fault was Mine, son. My concern should've been with you and your siblings, not with your father or His Creations."
"But I fought You. I gave You over to Father, knowing He would banish You to Hell."
"My actions led to My sentence, not yours. I had a duty to all of you and I failed. I chose bitterness and anger for humanity and your father over My love for you. I am sorry I wasn't there when you needed Me, darling. I am sorry for all the ways He has hurt you and all the ways I have."
Michael bit his lip and nodded in reply. He couldn't bring himself to say he forgave Her but he couldn't find words to condemn Her either.
"I have a gift for you. It won't make up for everything I've missed but it will make your life easier."
Michael glanced down at Her inquiringly. His mother gave him a mysterious smile before pulling his face down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. A surge of warmth passed throughout his body, alighting every fiber of his being. He felt the light sweeping from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head before it all concentrated into his chest and then his back. The light started to feel hotter and hotter and pressure was building inside of him to the point of pain. He let out a startled gasp and a pained exclamation left him as he fell to his knees. He briefly wondered if his mother had exacted some sort of revenge against him after all before the pain and the blinding light began to recede, leaving a heavy feeling in its wake. He stood on shaky feet, looking at his mother who still had a mysterious smile on Her face. A quick glance at his twin told him he had a similar look. Was the whole enigmatic schtick a God thing? If so, it was an annoying side effect.
"What was that," Gabriel asked, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted back to the dimmer lighting in the apartment.
"Do you feel any different, my love," his mother asked.
"Yes, but I don't know…" Michael trailed off as his back spasmed and itched. He felt an urge to release something within. Almost like when he still had wings, but that couldn't be…
He stared at his mother in shock.
"Well, don't you want to see them?"
Michael was a little fearful to be honest. Fearful that nothing would happen if he tried and fearful that something would happen. He looked over to Sam again. He gave him a smile of reassurance. Michael took a deep breath to build his own confidence before shrugging.
Instantly, two large black wings unfurled behind him. He stared at them in shock. They both looked full, no feathers were missing, leaving bald spots in their wake. They weren't dull anymore either. They looked like the color of the darkest night, feathers so black it was almost difficult to discern one from the other. More than that, they looked even and healthy. He didn't feel any pain or soreness. They were humming with the power of divinity and the light of creation, giving them a soft glow that made the shadows around him look more exaggerated than they actually were. It felt just like when he had first come into being.
"Whoa," Cassiel breathed out in awe.
"They look…" Gabriel trailed off, equally gobsmacked.
"Beautiful," Raphael commented with a smile, his eyes suspiciously wet. Duma looked similarly emotional.
"And big," Amenadiel added.
"They're perfect," his mother said happily.
"But how," Michael asked, disbelief still overriding every other emotion.
"Lucifer mentioned they weren't back yet and that he had been trying to restore them unsuccessfully. I figured a deity with a little more experience might be able to do the trick. Besides, you best have them when you see your Father again."
Michael stared at the appendages, still stunned and dumbfounded. They were pristine. They were flawless. Most importantly, they were his. He was whole again. The emotions the realization brought threatened to choke him and he found himself desperately searching for Sam even as his eyesight blurred with tears. He relaxed as a familiar hand intertwined with his and he was tugged closer to Sam, who pressed his forehead against Michael's. Michael felt even more emotions well up as he felt Sam's wings brushing his and wrapping around them. Michael responded in kind, the combined wings serving to shield them from the room and give Michael a moment to breakdown in some semblance of privacy. When was the last time he and his twin had touched wings without it ending in a fight? He didn't even know.
"Alright," Sam asked after a moment of Michael silently crying and breathing himself out.
"Yeah, I just needed a minute to process. I didn't think they would ever come back."
"I told you so. You really should listen to me more often."
"Yeah, because you're a bastion of good advice."
"I have my moments," Sam argued playfully before reaching up and gently wiping away the lingering tear tracks from Michael's cheeks.
"They look gorgeous, brother," he complimented, his voice full of admiration.
Michael looked at the obsidian feathers. He had had a longstanding complicated relationship with his wings. They caused him a lot of grief and pain. They had been a source of shame and embarrassment. But once upon a time, they had been a point of pride. They had been his most reliable weapon. They afforded him the ability to leave the Silver City when he had felt the need to. He had enjoyed casually flying, soaring through the air gracefully, feeling the wind beneath him, lifting him higher and higher. He remembered the feeling of unadulterated freedom before the War had ruined that. He had a chance to feel that way again.
Thanks to his mother.
When he felt calm enough, he pulled his wings away and Sam did the same, revealing the roomful of his siblings and mother. None of them seemed to be judging him for his reaction. In fact, his mother was looking between him and Sam with Her eyes glimmering with an emotion Michael couldn't readily name. She approached them and reached up, touching both of their cheeks with a loving caress.
"My boys. It's been my hope for eons to see you together again. You came into being together, you belong together. It brings me peace to know neither of you are alone anymore."
Sam and Michael looked at each other and shared a smile.
"Are you ready, my love?"
Michael took a fortifying breath before nodding his head.
"Yes, I'm ready."
Mom nodded and then turned to Gabriel. She stepped towards a relatively bare section of the penthouse and held up her hand. For a moment, nothing happened and then the air seemed to bend and twist on itself before a portal materialized in the apartment, the other side showing lush greenery and a couple of centaurs watching them curiously from the other side. His siblings began filing through the opening but Michael paused before plucking a feather. He held it out to Sam.
"A promise. I'll come back to you. Besides, it's bad form to abandon a prospective nestmate in the middle of courtship."
Sam stared at him, momentarily stunned, before a bright smile spread across his face. A genuine smile, not a smirk or one of his shit-eating grins, but a smile full of hope and happiness. Sam took the feather from him and held it over his heart.
"You'd better come back or I'm coming there to get you. And I won't be kind about it."
Michael nodded in understanding before he pulled Sam into a hug.
"I love you," Michael whispered in his ear, the words falling from his lips before he had time to think about it. Part of him cringed in embarrassment and fear at the vulnerability he was displaying, but it wasn't a lie. What was the point of not saying the words now? He spent centuries wanting to say it but unable to express it, he didn't want to keep it bottled up inside now. Sam had shown him in big ways and small ways that he felt the same. Michael could be brave enough to take this step first.
Sam held him tighter in response.
"I love you too."
The twins held on for a moment more before they finally pulled away. Michael could still see some fear and apprehension lingering in Sam's eyes but he nodded at Michael once more and pushed him lightly towards the portal.
"Go on then. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back."
Michael turned towards the portal where his mother was still waiting, a fond smile on Her lips. She held out Her hand and Michael took it, allowing her to lead him to Her universe while his other hand drifted down to the Flaming Sword attached to his hip.
The scene on the other side of the portal seemed idyllic, peaceful. Michael knew with His father there it wouldn't last. That only gave him more incentive to confront Him and if he was able to convince his mother to get rid of Dad before He destroyed Her good work, all the better.
With that thought in mind, he stepped forward and left his world behind.