Claire's room was high enough up in the hotel that the explosions in the next district could barely be heard. Every so often a gust of wind would billow the curtains of the lone, open window, but otherwise things were quiet and still. Which made is notable when the door slowly creaked open and a large, robed figure stood on the threshold, illuminated by the light of the hallway and the dull glow to the halo that hovered above his head.
Michael strode forward towards the bed with a sharp sword gripped tightly in his right hand. The person under the covers of the bed did not stir as without a word he raised it up and then slashed down without hesitation, cleanly through both the covers and the neck of the sleeping figure.
"If you want something done right…" he began haughtily as the head rolled down off the bed and stopped against his foot, causing the hair to fall partially to the side. Frowning, he reached down to pull it up for a closer inspection. Someone had glued a mop head to a volleyball and drawn a screaming face on it in red marker. "What the—"
"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Claire asked, emerging from behind some of the taller stacks of books by the window.
Michael dropped the ball, turning to level the sword at her, "Actually, I did."
In a blur of motion Michael lunged faster than Claire anticipated. Her eyes widened as she snatched up a thick volume, desperate to deflect the blade. A half second too late. The sword punched through the tome and sank into her arm. A sharp gasp tore from her throat as she staggered back, blood seeping through her fingers. Stab wounds weren't new, but this—this burned like fire licking through her bones. Her back struck the windowsill just as Michael flicked the sword aside, sending the ruined book flying.
"Won't be the last time you're disappointed tonight," Claire shot at him, hoisting herself up onto the edge of the window and flipping him off as she leaned back and fell. The air rushed around her, but she'd fallen from far higher heights and barely had time to compare it before she was caught by two strong arms.
"Is this going to become a habit?" Alastor asked her dryly as he set her down on her feet.
"You know you love it," Claire flashed a quick smile, already moving away from him, "Thanks for the save, now get back inside. I'm going to lead him towards the—"
A sudden crashing sound rocked the ground and Claire stumbled, turning quickly around to see Michael crouching there on the broken pavement. He straightened up, amber eyes glowing with righteous fury as he leveled his sword at her once more, "You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?"
"Actually," Alastor said, sticking his head over Claire's shoulder, "She did!"
His comment broke Claire out of her shocked and she turned halfway towards him, "Alastor, get out of h—" before Michael's sword sliced down between them, causing them both to jump backwards and away from each other to avoid it.
In an instant, massive, glowing black vines burst from the ground around Alastor, writhing menacingly. He barely spared them a glance, running a lazy hand over the staff of his microphone. "Now, now," he drawled, sounding almost bored. "The lady was speaking."
The vines shot out towards Michael, who twirled his sword this way and that, slicing through them evenly before they could reach him. Seizing the moment, Claire drew the dagger Niffty had given her, testing the weight of the blade briefly between her fingers before hurling it towards the back of Michael's head. It flew straight and true, but like a being capable of slipping between the seconds themselves, he turned, snapped the dagger out of the air and threw it into the ground hard enough to bury it halfway down the blade.
"You think I haven't dealt with this before?" he taunted them, slicing through more of Alastor's vines as he advanced on Claire as if they were no more than an afterthought, "I'm an Archangel. I've faced down the biggest threats in all of creation."
He sliced through the last vine as it attempted to take out one of his legs, then raised it up to ready another lunge, "You're going to have to do better than—" he paused as he was suddenly engulfed in shadow, looking up to see the large statue of Dazzle crashing down towards him. He twisted, swinging the sword up and slicing through the stone, sending chunks flying towards both Alastor and Claire, who both dove out of the way to avoid being crushed.
"Now," Michael said, standing in the wreckage and settling dust of Dazzle's monument, turning to look towards a dazed Claire, who was trying to push herself up from where she was covered in smaller pieces of debris, "Where was I."
"What the hell is happening out here!?" A disgruntled Lucifer demanded as he pushed his way out the front door, nearly tripping on Dazzle's right eye, "Augh!"
A sleepy Charlie followed closely after, as did the rest of the hotel inhabitants, rubbing at one eye she blinked and did a double take, taking off in a sprint when she saw Michael advancing on Claire, "Hey!" she shouted, before sliding between the two with her arms spread. Her hair unwound itself from its usual ponytail, flaring out from her head as two horns grew from her forehead and her eyes glowed red as she glared up at him, "Stay away from her!" She growled.
"Charlie, no!" Claire gasped, still bleeding from her arm and now a contusion on her head, she stumbled as she tried to get up as Michael, undeterred, raised his sword.
"Get out of the way you little—" he snarled, swinging the sword down once more, only to stop when Lucifer appeared between them.
"Niece!" Lucifer shouted, moving with impossible speed to place himself between Michael and Charlie, the blade of his brother's sword only a hairsbreadth away from his forehead, "That's your niece, my daughter, Charlie! So…maybe we all just…take a breath here-"
Indignation rolled off Michael in waves, "Take a breath?" He repeated incredulously, "You called me here to take care of the rogue soul and that's what I intend to do."
Lucifer glared at him, "Well I thought you would do it quietly!"
"Dad?" Charlie's voice sounded so small compared to the arguing Archangels, "You called him? On Claire? Out Claire? How—how could you?"
Lucifer's face instantly fell and despite the danger Michael posed her turned towards his daughter, reaching out to take her hands in his, "Charlie, I—I did it for you! So you could have a better life—"
Charlie pulled her hands away and took a step back, eyes filling with tears, "How could you think I'd want this!? She is one of our people, Dad, we should be protecting her! And more than that—she's my friend! She made you cookies!"
"Stop wasting my time and get out of the way," Michael snarled, pushing past Lucifer and shoving Charlie to the side.
"Hey!" Vaggie and Claire called out at the same time, the latter getting to her feet finally, though she wavered.
Lucifer's countenance instantly changed—his eyes glowed a deep red and two horns of the same color sprouted from his forehead, "Don't touch my daughter!" His voice reverberated with the power and authority of Hell itself, "Remember, you're in my house—"
"House?" Michael loomed over his younger brother, radiating a menace that made Lucifer flinch before he could stop himself. Leaning in, his shadow swallowed the fire in Lucifer's eyes, while his own blazed with righteous fury. "This is a box," he sneered. "And I'm the one who put you here."
Clearly shaken, Lucifer fumbled to try and regain his angry momentum under the weight of his brother's disdain, "Oh yeah?" he managed finally, glaring up at Michael, "Then get your dick out of my box!"
Angel raised one brow, while Husk facepalmed.
"I've had about enough of this," Michael declared with finality, "Get your filthy mutt out of the way, Luci, or I won't be responsible for what happens."
Fire sprouted between Lucifer's horns and his eyes flared once more, "Now hang on—" he began, but Charlie stepped forward with a clenched fist.
"I'm not going anywhere," she declared, defiantly lifting her chin, "I won't let you hurt her." She'd barely finished speaking when Vaggie, Angel, Husk, and Niffty moved over to stand supportively on either side of them.
"And neither will we," Vaggie agreed, raising up her spear.