The pain of being flung away from his true vessel by Sam hurts. Lucifer coughs, finding himself in his first vessel again. He lies in the void, the cold seeping into his already freezing grace. The creatures from beyond perdition hissed above the Archangel, circling him with thousands upon thousands of black, watchful eyes, speaking with languages beyond even the perceptions of the fallen one.
Lucifer attempts to stand, but an invisible force pushes him down until he was gasping for air that does not exist to fill his invisible lungs. He needs to get back- back to Sam and Michael. He needs to warn them of the darkness that resides. The things hisses at him throwing his grace at them. The light cannot touch them, but they seem outraged at Lucifer for daring to oppose them. They tear into him, ripping his grace, his power apart thread by thread, dismantling him. They wanted to give him a slow death.
He cries out in his true voice, displacing the abominations momentarily. His body rips at it's seams at his attempts to struggle. Lucifer begins to drift away, his sight blurring. Is this how he is going to die, after all this time? He would rather fall by Michael's sword tan to lie here bleeding out. A large hand curled behind his body, warm grace pouring into him, fixing up the broken edges.
"Michael..." Lucifer whispers, trying to look at his brother. Sam's face smiles down at him, pressing a kiss on his forehead. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the warmth. Being Michael's vessel is different from being Lucifer's vessel. It felt so right with Lucifer, they were at one with each other, complete. Michael's presence is like a constant itch beneath his skin, like a fire that would burn him from the inside out. He bears it, and Michael lets his anger out, no longer afraid of hurting his vessel. The eldest Archangel was truly a force of nature, raging against the shadows that attacked his brother.
Sam watches the creatures slither away, knowing that if Lucifer is in a vessel instead of being out there as nothing but light and wavelengths he would not be as vulnerable as he is now. It's not Sam's fault, Sam thinks. He can't have Lucifer taking control of his body. Michael sets Lucifer and Adam's body down, muttering in Enochian, pulling Lucifer together bit by bit.
"I'll let you go now," He tells Sam. It's a little lonely in Adam's body without the boy's bright, young soul. Michael keeps the shred of his soul he still has cradled tightly in his grace. He can find the rest of Adam's soul, piece it together bit by bit. Michael broke him and Michael will fix him again. Lucifer blinks his eyes open and sees Sam. Not Michael wearing Sam's skin, just Sam and his body relaxes in relief.
"Hey." Sam says, pulling Lucifer up and shifting awkwardly. Lucifer ignores him, turning to Michael instead, wrapping his arms around his brother and Sam feels a little pang in his chest- not jealousy, definitely not jealousy- God, Sam's little brother is gone and Sam is standing here feeling jealous that the Devil decided to hug his big brother instead of Sam.
The three of them walk, Michael leading the way and Sam and Lucifer falling into a familiar rhythm behind him. Lucifer tries to not look at Sam. Being at one with his vessel, his true vessel was like nothing he has ever felt before. He had other vessels, of course. Other true vessels, too. He could see their lives unfold in this world outside the cage, see and never touch but it was not until Sam came along that Lucifer felt the burning need to be with him. For an Angel, being rejected, tossed out of a vessel's body hurts, but Lucifer is hurting in more ways than that. He stifles a manic laugh at the realization that he is fading. D
Only Angels who lose their mates fade. Somehow, somewhere along the way Sam became more than just his true vessel and became his mate. Being rejected by a mate was the primary cause of Angelic deaths before the first war. Sam does not want him. That Lucifer knows. He hides the cracks in his grace and hopes that Michael does not notice. When Angels fade, the process is usually long and painful. They will unravel, and, one day, they will cease to exist. Perhaps this is a good thing, Lucifer thought.
Michael feels the cracks in his grace, and he pulls himself together, refusing to falter or fade. Adam is his mate, and he is in danger, and Michael will save his mate. As long as the small piece of Adam stays with him, Michael will have hope. Michael notices Lucifer's light faltering and he stops walking, setting his pace to match his brother's.
"Lucifer." Michael whispers, gripping the other Archangel's wrist. The gashes in his grace is larger, fresher, more noticeable than the ones in Michael.
"Michael." Lucifer's voice cracks, and he takes Michael's hand. Michael leads the way, just like how they used to be. His grace reaches out for Lucifer, tangling into his, and for a moment they were flying above the clouds of a newly made earth again.
"I'm sorry, brother." Michael grips Lucifer's hand tightly, letting his brother ground himself so that he will not lose himself.
"Me too." Lucifer murmurs, moving closer to Michael. His mate rejected him, and Michael's mate is lost in the void, but at least they still have each other. Lucifer remains steady on his feet, Michael being the anchor he needed.
"Thank you." Lucifer tells Michael, open and honest. Just like how it used to be, because here, at a place where either of them could die at any moment, they could finally afford to be true to each other and themselves. Michael leans over, placing another kiss on his brother's forehead.
Sam watches the exchange, small bubbles of rage in his heart. He is angry at Michael for forgetting about Adam so soon, and at Lucifer for reasons he cannot explain. It is impossible, he reasons. Michael and Lucifer is like him and Dean, but the exchange he sees convinces him that there is something more there, something only they understand, and Sam fumes silently, pushing the thoughts into the back of his mind.