The Hand and the Sword
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/306427.
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Supernatural
Relationship: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Michael (Supernatural) Character: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lucifer (Supernatural), Michael
(Supernatural)
Stats: Published: 2010-07-09 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 16994
The Hand and the Sword
by saucyminx Summary
We have taken some liberties with Biblical time line for the sake of the story. Obviously this story is fictional but there are strong underlying religious themes, centered mostly around Lucifer's doubt. We mean no harm referring to these religious aspects, if you are easily offended by the concept of questioning Christianity, consider yourself warned.
Chapter 1
Earth, the Father's creation was, in many ways, the antithesis of Heaven. As one moved through
heaven - it was not unlike swimming through a school of fish. On all sides there were beings, in all dimensions there was thought.
They were all one, there were no borders, no dividing lines. The brothers and sisters drifted past and through one another like wisps of smoke tugged by the wind.
Heaven; marked by an absence of colour - white, bright, light flares and fades - pulsed with their existence.
He will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.
Lucifer longed for more. He questioned everything, wanted more, wanted more. He was intensely curious about possibilities. None of that was accepted - to feel those ways, could mean punishment or worse - banishment. Who was Lucifer to question anyone?
The only thing to soothe the beast of curiosity within him was the presence of Michael. Even
barely there, the vaguest notion of close, a gentle brush of wings against Lucifer's being, Michael.
you bring forth a disturbance in me - Lucifer was near him, felt Michael move through him.
we are at peace, your unease upsets us Michael felt the weight of the others, reached out with his mind for his brother.
disquiet Lucifer drifted, set himself free to move among his brothers and sisters. Michael was as ripples are in water, following, ever-increasing circles.
Sweeping piles of honey rich sand was all he could see, to the edge of the horizon, and all Michael could do was stare. This world was the most beautiful, even in its barest form. He supposed the man he now inhabited was traveling to a village to gather supplies and Michael wondered at the simplicity of it all. To be human, living off instincts, unable to grasp the subtle complexities each step made on the world. He took in the shifting of sand beneath the thin leather of his sandals, the exchange of oxygen flowing into his lungs and out. Every little action rippled out to alter and change. Michael would forever marvel at his Father's works.
Before a word could be said he was aware of the presence of another, approaching from the side, purposeful and strong. Such was the way of his brother. Unlike these humans he understood those subtleties and Michael knew he was not always pleased with them. And yet here they were, inhabiting those they shouldn't, and Michael could not help but be curious. "Brother," he said softly, head tilted slightly to the side, eyes still lingering on the beauty of the landscape.
Holding out his hand Lucifer stared at it, eyes squinting slightly in the harsh sunlight, "amazing." He moved the fingers of his vessel's hand, closing them one after the other into a fist then
quietly and circled around Michael's vessel stopping just behind him and inhaling the scent radiating off the human. "Strange," he murmured. Leaning forward he noted Michael's gaze still trailing across the landscape. "All that flesh at your disposal and you are gaping at the curves and valleys of the earth, typical of you brother."
"And, what would you have me do?" Michael turned his gaze toward his brother, staring into dark eyes. "We should marvel at the beauty of this world, it is our father's creation. Though, I suppose the flesh of these humans is his greatest." With the slightest shift of his shoulders Michael turned his gaze down to trace the curves of the vessel Lucifer walked in. The skin shifted with each movement, and even without. Michael could sense the beat of the heart, the blood working through veins, a masterpiece so complex that human's would spend the rest of their existence trying to master it. "Why is it you summoned me here Lucifer? What is it you seek to learn?" Michael frowned in disapproval. His brother was too curious, always asking questions that would only seek to harm him.
"What I seek..." Lucifer stepped closer closing his eyes and listening to the gentle breathing of Michael's vessel, "is to know more of you, brother." It was so different to be in this prison of flesh, confined and yet blessed with such sensation. "Do you not tire of the same experiences time and again? Tell me," Lucifer leaned closer to Michael's vessel, "do you never think of us, you and I, being able to move together, touch and feel?" His eyes opened slowly scanning the waves of colour in the vessel's hair, gold, bronze, cinnamon red.
"Touch and feel?" Michael's lips thinned out as he considered these things, eyes tracking the movements of his brother's vessel. "These are not the things destined for us. We live amongst the Heavens Lucifer. It is our home, the greatest of all places. What more connection could you seek? When we are there, we are as one. I am aware of your being, of your thoughts. Here? We are limited to the human functions," Michael was not certain how comfortable he felt, unnerved by the feeling of potential disobedience. But elsewhere, he could always sense his brother's unease and he yearned to quell that, to comfort him. "Would you prefer to be these humans? To feel as they do? To know pain, and death?"
"As one, but with every other one." Lucifer sighed and tilted his head, breath moving across the vessel's cheek. "I think," Lucifer smiled, "I could grow accustomed to this feeling. I ask you, Michael, is it not slightly intoxicating?" Moving his hand once more Lucifer ran the pad of his index finger along Michael's eyebrow, down his cheek and then drew it back across slightly parted lips. "Remarkable..." he whispered, "not at all, not at all like Heaven." The strangest sensations flooded through Lucifer's being, his vessels heart was fluttering and while it was uncomfortable and strange it was not unpleasant.
Michael wondered at the heat that seemed to radiating from the touch of the other's fingers. In all his wisdom, Michael wasn't certain he would ever completely grasp the nature of these beings. "I suppose there are things pleasant about this vessel," he agreed with a slight downward tilt of his head. Hair fell across his gaze and the body seemed to move on instinct to brush it back. "Brother, I still do not understand what it is you wish of me. I seek to please you, if you would tell me how?" The hand still sweeping through the air caught Michael's attention for a moment and he extended it to rest along the neck of his brother's vessel, once more marvelling at the feel of flesh. Something solid to grasp on to, not like their home.
"Time, attention, peace. Michael, when I am near you - sense your presence I feel more comfort in those moments than in any other." The touch, the heat on his flesh sent waves of feeling through Lucifer's vessel. "If I could choose one being from Heaven, take one being away for this, for time, closeness - if would be you, brother." Leaning in Lucifer pressed against Michael, drawing in a sharp breath, "I would choose you before our Father, before all others." There was no contest in
Lucifer's mind; no other presence anywhere mattered to him like that of Michael. In Heaven they were one, here, in this world, in these vessels they could be together.
"That is not how it should be," Michael whispered though his arm looped around the heat of the body pressed into him. "We are not meant to want Lucifer," his voice was soft, oddly layered with the curiosity his brother's words sparked through him. If he were in Heaven, where they should be, he would seek the wisdom and guidance of his siblings to process these thoughts. Since that was not an option, he spoke them aloud, "how am I any different from the others? Are we not meant to be one always? Would you wish to change it all even knowing the consequences? Lucifer, brother, we are not meant to question, it leads to doubt. You know this." Michael brought the free hand of his vessel up to cup his brother's cheek, using the human form of touch to express his concern for the other.
"You are different because the absence of you is something I always notice." Lucifer brought a hand up to cover the one on his cheek. "This touch, this..." his brow furrowed, "gesture, expression - is mine, here on earth - it is mine alone. You are mine alone. In Heaven we are... what we are and we belong to all." Turning into the hand of Michael's vessel Lucifer learned more. He learned the heat of human flesh; the gentleness of contact, Lucifer learned more of what he'd known before they inhabited these forms. Lucifer wanted Michael.
There were very few times in his existence when Michael felt puzzled and it seemed the ones that were there could all be tied back to his brother, the one standing before him in the body of a
human. "You do have this way of making me wonder," Michael said softly, eyes fixed on the place his vessel's hand connected with his brother's face. It seemed he was warmer than he should be; that the lingering presence of the human this body rightly belonged to encouraged this touch. "Lucifer, this cannot be pleasing our Father. You and I are his eldest, we set the standards, the others look to us for guidance and wisdom. And yet you make me... wonder. Feel..." Michael shifted as if the words changed him just by saying them.
"We have done nothing wrong, Michael. We can return to our brothers and sisters at any time ... if you like." Lucifer sighed, enjoying the feel of re-filling his vessel's lungs with the scorching air. "Our Father created these beings and here we are, experiencing the best of his creation." The arm wrapped around his vessels body was radiating heat. Lucifer stepped back. "Shall we return," he gestured up toward the clear sky. "I think, Michael, you will miss ... my presence."
"I always miss you when something separates us," Michael said quietly. A soft noise to the side drew his attention and Michael turned his head toward it, stepping even closer to his brother's vessel as his eyes tracked the movement of a bird through the sky, sweeping down in search for food. Michael watched the flutter of the animal’s wings, squinting slightly against the intense light of the sun. "This world is remarkable," he murmured and turned his gaze to Lucifer as the bird faded from sight into the distance. "Is this the first time you have taken on a vessel brother?" Michael's attention was drawn to his fingers still on the flesh before him, eyes following the trail along the strong curve of the jaw, sliding sideways along the cheek, up the dip of the nose, over a brow and down along the closed eyelid. "You know that I love you brother, I would do anything to please you," he whispered, too distracted with the skin to focus in on something other than tanned flesh, fingers drifting down over bowed lips.
It would never have occurred to Lucifer to hide the truth; there was no judgment between brothers and sisters, no need to hide or mislead. "I have taken a vessel before. I am ..." he leaned forward to move the flesh of his vessel's lips into contact with the others skin. Michael's. "It is so different," his voice was hardly audible, "the sensation of physical touch."
Michael had watched the humans move along earth, marvelling at his Father's work. In his observations he had taken in the act of touch, the connection two beings could share with each other. "Brother, have you sought the physical touch of these beings? Have you partaken in..." Michael stepped back, hand extending as a place holder for the word he could not properly grasp. "No," Lucifer spoke softly, "I wait." He tilted his head staring into the eyes of Michael's vessel -seeing the Angel brother deep within them. "There is only one being I wish to touch more, brother." Lucifer dropped his hands to his sides. "And I shall wait as long as ... I exist." He knew what humans did with all the flesh, nerves, feeling and he knew that it was forbidden amongst his brothers and sisters. But - there was Michael.
The tension between them was suddenly palpable, as if Lucifer's words opened a door to a path that neither could travel. Never should travel down. "I am that one." Michael stated quietly, head turned down to the ground. "Brother..." his lips thinned out as he shook his head, eyes lifting to trace the tanned flesh of Lucifer's vessel. "Lucifer, we cannot. We are not meant to experience those things. We should return home, we have stayed here too long. We will damage these bodies."
"We must not damage God's most precious creations." Lucifer made certain his voice was void of any tone, no indication of his true feelings toward the human race. Reaching up, Lucifer trailed his fingers down Michael's face, lingering on his lips before dropping back to his side.
Michael blinked slowly, head tilted with the slightest inhale. This vessel was not strong enough to house him; he could feel it weakening already. "Do not linger here long brother. Your presence is always missed in our home," Michael extended the arm of his vessel to his brother's and grazed his flesh. "I shall return this man to the path he was on. You will be home soon?"
"I shall," Lucifer was never far from Michael. He began the process of leaving and letting go of the vessel. As he spiralled out of the body the light once more overwhelmed everything. Home.
It was ocean he saw, spread out before him as far as the eye could reach. Michael sucked in a breath of salty air, pulling it into the lungs of his vessel, eyes watering slightly. There was grass beneath his feet, silky and soft. Much more stunning than before. This world was made of so many wonders, Michael felt he should drop to his knees and give thanks for such beauty. "You knew I would enjoy this," he murmured, head dipping down as he sensed the presence of the other, always aware. "More than I enjoyed the desert. Is it why you summoned me here?" Michael turned
enough to fix eyes on the long line of his brother's vessel. Paler this time. Hair lighter. Body smaller.
"I did know you would enjoy this," Lucifer's hand waved toward the ocean. He moved his vessel closer to Michael's. "I hoped you would meet me. I was unsure." It was an unfamiliar sensation to Lucifer - not knowing. Michael was not easily swayed from his devotion to their father, not easily encouraged to break the rules. "Only for me, would you do this." There was a sad tone to Lucifer's voice. He longed more of late for these stolen moments alone with his brother.
"Only for you," Michael confirmed. Lucifer was his oldest and most trusted brother and Michael understood that he needed guidance on some occasions. Michael could feel the unease. "You are not at peace my brother. We can all feel this. It is... upsetting," Michael dipped forward with the word, seeking to comfort his brother. Only his second experience in a vessel but he was beginning to understand some things.
Lucifer had studied humans, spent as much time as he could watching, learning what pleased them. It was simple, to break the first rule - would almost have appeared to be a simple misstep if it weren't for the fact that Michael knew his every thought. Tilting his chin up, simply to see the eyes that held the essence of Michael - their lips brushed together. He knew now why they did this simple gesture. The most beautiful thing. Lips touched but Lucifer could feel the sensation everywhere inside the vessel, heart, blood and skin. The entire body responded. "I am," he whispered, "at peace when I am here in your presence."
Michael's vessel reacted to the kiss in an unexpected way, tensing slightly, flaring around his nerves and pulses. "We are not meant too..." he murmured, eyes fluttering in the way only a human's could. Michael considered he should stop this, stop his brother's curiosity. He found he could not step back as he should. "Brother, what is this? You seek the human pleasures?" "Is it not still you and I, Brother?" Lucifer's head tilted. Curious. "Was that unpleasant for you, Michael?" It had been far from unpleasant for Lucifer wrapped in this vessel. Stepping back slightly Lucifer dropped to his haunches as he had seen the humans sitting; he stared out at the ocean wondering at the strangeness of it all. Wishing Michael felt as he did, wanted to be with him
alone, he sighed.
"It was not unpleasant," Michael decided after several moments of considering the gentle hum radiating through his vessel. With a small step forward he stood beside his brother and extended his fingers to graze through the soft curls to the vessel. "I love you my brother, though I shall confess you make me wonder," Michael allowed himself a small smile. "Perhaps we should discuss your unease with Father?" His fingers continued to shift through the hair, finding the silk pleasant along the stretched skin.
"Unease," Lucifer murmured as his eyes closed. He would rather spend every precious moment in this vessel absorbing the touch of Michael, focusing exclusively on that tenderness. "He does not feel the same love for me that's he's always felt for you, Michael. Do not be naive." Lucifer suspected that his position in heaven may indeed be at risk; were it not for his brother's constant warnings Lucifer may have been punished by now.
"Lucifer," Michael said sadly and knelt beside him. "Our Father loves us both the same, as he loves all the angels." It upset him to hear his brother speak this way and Michael sought to end the words and doubt, he sought to return the carefree joy his brother once knew. Michael laid his fingers along Lucifer's cheek, tracing the new skin, the curve of lips. "I wish to please you once more brother, allow me that?"
Humming softly, marvelling at the noises that this vessel made without consciousness. "You please me by simply being here. I know it is hard for you." He dropped his eyes and pressed forward into the touch of those fingers. "Do you think," he paused as the vessel drew in some air, "I will ever be happy again? Content? Are you content Michael?"
There were many ways to consider the word content and Michael considered that neither he nor his brother really understood what it meant to be so. To be happy. But they knew their version of it, of peace, which was as close as he came to associating that word with himself. "I am most times, there are moments..." Michael shook his head sadly, "we should not speak of those. Brother, you were once at peace were you not? Our world was once enough for you."
"And then our Father began to experiment. Tell me truthfully, Michael." Opening his eyes to the Earth's sky once more Lucifer's eyes settled on Michael's. "Are we not perfect? The angels - our brothers and sisters. The perfect creation - the perfect beings?" Lucifer had a knack; it seemed, for always asking the difficult question. Simply asking questions was forbidden.
"Lucifer," Michael whispered, shifting closer as if their Father might appear before them at any moment, even though their God would never walk amongst this planet. Not now. "It is a matter of free will. We were created to worship our father as we should. These humans, they are given the choice and yet they still choose him. This makes them..." Michael let the salty sea air exhale slowly from his vessel's lungs and shifted until both sides of Lucifer's face were in his palms, pulling them close enough to rest their foreheads together. "You will only find trouble with these questions my brother. Only trouble. Please, let us discuss anything else," Michael did not like the idea of his brother angering his father.
"And why should they be given such a gift, Michael? Why?" Bending closer, lips almost touching Michael's ear. Lucifer's voice was barely there - almost carried away by the breeze. "Why are we not given such gifts? Us - his most beautiful children?" Hands of his vessel slipped over Michael's ribs Lucifer pulled him closer. "Why were we not enough for our Father Michael? Why?" It was a question that ran through Lucifer's mind so often, it was familiar to him, and yet so dangerous. "I cannot provide an answer that will soothe your soul brother," Michael said quietly, head dipped down. He did not like being a disappointment. There should be answers for Lucifer, things to offer to make his brother at peace once more. "I am sorry. I believe I am not providing you with the happiness or peace you seek. I do not know how to make you believe," he turned his head into the warmth of his brother's vessel, feeling heavy with sadness for the angel.
"Make me believe that we are important? I am certain of that. Make me believe that our Father loves all of us equally? Of that I am not so certain." Lucifer dipped his head down again, "do not be sad for me Brother. Being here with you is pleasing." He had learned to be careful with the words he used.
"I fear for you," Michael admittedly quietly. "I can feel it. The shifting. Things will change. I only hope you make the right choice when that time comes." Michael fell silent, listening to the soft inhales of his brother's vessel, the gentle rolls of the waves along the shore. "We should not linger," he said after awhile, still close enough to feel the heat of the other's body.
"As long as you are near," Lucifer leaned his vessel close enough that their lips touched once more, no movement, not even the slights pursing of pink flesh - just a touch - then he sat back, "I shall have your council regarding all my decisions, brother."
Michael let his tongue slide across his lips, pulling in the taste. Michael was nowhere as curious as his brother but something had him moving forward to feel that touch again. Though it was
physical, it was not that different from the touches they experienced in Heaven. Flesh, physical, something he could feel along his vessel's body. It was both pleasing and disconcerting at once. His head tilted to the side as he covered his brother's mouth with his own and waited, not knowing what to do next outside gently cupping his brother's jaw with both hands.
Lucifer had passed many moments watching humans with one another. Curiosity, as it was, was useful for these kinds of ... situations. He moved his lips as gently as he could, finding it more pleasing than he had imagined. The strangest feelings arose within him. The body of his vessel seemingly coming alive under his brother's mouth. It meant, for that single moment, Michael was his and his alone. The way it should be.
It was easier than it should have been to meet the slide of his brother's lips. Michael felt as though his vessel knew exactly how to react, shifting closer to gather more warmth. His mouth fell open against the silky flesh and Michael marvelled at the increased race of his vessel's heart. He could
feel the pulse of blood rapidly through his vessel's veins. Remarkable.
touching their lips together. He could feel pleasure in every cell of his vessel's body, every single nerve-ending was firing. It was as though he was being drawn closer to Michael's vessel. Drawn like he was pulled from the very center of his body. His fingers drifted up to curl around Michael's neck, to feel the blood moving through his veins so solidly. Real
When Michael pulled back it was only enough to pull a breath into his vessel, to calm the steady thrumming. Every little part of his lips slid along Lucifer's vessel and Michael hummed softly, pressing their mouths together once more before he withdrew completely, sitting back on his legs. Michael could feel the heat along his vessels cheeks, hand reaching up to press into it. "That was..." he sought for a word to properly describe this foreign situation, "pleasant. Unlike anything..." his fingers slid over his lips, still tingling from the touch.
"And solely for you and I." Lucifer pushed a smile onto his vessels lips. "Tell me, brother, was it not pleasant to have something, special, so unique for just the two of us?" The only thoughts he could hear were theirs, his own, Michael's and not the incessant buzz of the other Angels. Lucifer suspected that he would remember this moment for a very long time to come.
"Unique..." Michael considered being them, Lucifer being his. How could they separate themselves from their siblings? With a soft sigh Michael ghosted his vessel's fingers along Lucifer's flesh before pushing up. "We must return. We have been gone too long," his eyes drank in the wide ocean once more before he looked back at his brother's vessel. "We shall... meet like this again. You will return with me?" Michael held out his hand, watching.
"I will return with you." Lucifer's fingers slipped into Michael's hand and he too, stared out over the icy blue ocean waters.
Michael's third time taking on a vessel began much as his second, eyes opening to fix on the wide expanse of ocean. Their human bodies didn't belong in this place, they came from somewhere else, but such was the privilege of their powers, to walk on lands that wouldn't see civilization for hundreds of mortal years. Michael pulled in a large breath and it swirled along his vessel's sense, salty and crisp. Pleasant as if this body fully grasped what a wonderful gift if was being given, clean fresh air. Michael stared at the landscape with almost hungry eyes. Waves crashed along the bottom of the cliff he stood on, echoing up to him, the angel's eyes fluttered and for a moment he imagined he could feel the spray sprinkling along the flesh of his vessel.
"Beautiful..." he whispered, facing the edge of the cliff and spreading his vessel's arms wide to the side, fingers spreading out as the cool breeze swept along his skin. The rush was oddly intoxicating and Michael found himself laughing softly, leaning forward, toes curling into the soft grass along the cliff top. His vessel's heart fluttered happily and he dipped toward the ocean, drinking in that swirling rush that he only found in the form of a vessel.
Lucifer had chosen well. His vessel, among the most beautiful he had seen, tanned skin, unusually golden hair. He leaned in to Michael's earthly form and whispered, "Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom." Lips barely touching ... the vessel ... Michael's neck.
The touch successfully drew Michael's attention from his admiration of the ocean and he turned to face his brother's vessel, lifting a hand to lie along the curved line of his jaw. "How very
unexpected to hear you say such a thing," he murmured, head dipping slightly. "You have not been well brother, we have sensed it. What is it that troubles you so?" Michael did not need to ask the
question, Lucifer's troubles were well known, but he often found there was something else; something he never could comprehend even when their spirits twined together in Heaven.
"Desire." Lucifer leaned closer. It was strange. In Heaven - they moved about each other, through each other, winding and twisting like wisps of smoke. Here, here in this Garden of such rich creation each physical touch brought Lucifer closer to Michael than anything their celestial bodies could do. Lucifer wrapped his long arms around Michael's neck - he no longer considered the vessel - he pulled his brother back against him. "I have missed ... this."
"I have..." Michael whispered the words, unsettled by the fluttered of new emotions through him. He knew his place. Above. He knew his role. To worship the Father. And then there was Lucifer. "Yes," he quietly answered his own internal question, "I have missed this as well." There was something concrete and solid about the body Lucifer inhabited, and yet every little action, each touch, was from his brother alone. They could never be like this among their brothers and sisters, could never touch like this. Michael let his fingers shift through the soft hair, sorting the locks between his fingers gently.
"I fear our time..." he whispered, "will come to an end soon." Lucifer let the breath drift out of his lungs and drew it back in slowly, "I cannot hear our Father anymore. His words, his love, no more. It is no secret to us what that will mean for me ... by the grace of God..." There was but one thing Lucifer would long for when he was banished and that was the brother he held against him. "Do you believe we will meet again Michael?"
"I believe that is our fate," Michael said softly, sadness weighing heavily against his senses. "It will not be the same without you Lucifer," he lifted his eyes to peer into the vessel’s, seeing Lucifer there, familiar and yet not. The only angel Michael never felt like he completely understood, and the only angel he so desperately wanted too. "I shall miss your presence. I do not suppose there is still any hope?" Michael exhaled slowly, knowing there was none. Lucifer had already made his choices; it was only a matter of time. Michael could feel the shift happening already.
"We were the brightest and the most loved you and I. It should have remained so." The heat of what Lucifer now knew was anger, flared within Lucifer's being. "These," his hand brushed down Michael's chest, "humans will take all his love and devotion and what will be left for our winged brethren?" Lucifer pressed lips to Michael’s vessel's neck, tongue snaking out to lap at the flavour of human skin.
Heat sparked along his senses and Michael tilted from the touch, granting more room though he knew he should not. He offered no answer to his brother's question for they had circled this discussion many times and neither would sway from their views. No, this was what was meant to be. Michael would remain loyal and faithful to their Father and Lucifer would not. Because of it he would be sent away though Michael could not fathom where. Seldom was he granted these secrets from their father. "Lucifer..." he whispered the name like a prayer, in a way he never had.
"And I shall be banished," Lucifer's lips moved along the curve of Michael's neck, "and I shall live forever in solitude." The silky hair was marvellous against the skin on his vessel's face. "And I shall spend an eternity thinking of you." The body he inhabited was filled with such unusual sensations; the blood that scurried through its veins and arteries seemed suddenly to be heated. All the muscles were charged as though ready to spring into some misguided action. "So, let us have this one moment - it is so little in the swell of all this time."
Michael did not like the way Lucifer sounded so sure of his decision but he knew this was not an argument he would ever win. Just as he knew he should break from this moment and leave because there were choices that had to be made here and he could never erase them once done. There could
not possibly be any heat greater than this one, sparking along the skin of his vessel, soaking into his essence and burning in a way he had never felt. Pleasure. Michael was unaccustomed to receiving it from touch. And yet he wanted. "What would you have us do?" He asked through a shallow breath, voice noticeably deeper.
"Make a few sweet moments of our own, explore our Father's creation to the fullest extent." Lucifer slid his vessel around to the front of Michael's. "Love, do you not love me brother?" Their eyes, the icy colour belonging only to the Lord's most heavenly creatures. His brother was there, inside, he could see the glint of his being deep within.
Allowing himself to slide down Michael's body, Lucifer knelt at the feet of his brother. He
wrapped long limbs around Michael's legs and pressed his cheek against a hip. The sharp cut of the hipbone bruised into the meat of his cheek. "Lie with me, once..." He would beg for this moment of joyous love. This moment was both more and less that their Father's love and Lucifer would have it.
"Lie with you..." Michael repeated slowly, the words feeling foreign in their complexity. So many things so very wrong with the simple suggestion. "How many of our father's rules will we break?" He asked quietly, rhetorically, they both already knew, and his hand stroked through the soft hair once more and that heat began to consume his essence, and he wanted. Michael knew of the thing his brother suggested. The human's ultimate connection. They were not meant to feel such things. And still, Michael wanted. A small shudder shook his form and Michael extended his wings in the briefest flash, settling into the thought. "I love you brother," he turned his head down to observe the man, the angel. "This... this will prove that to you?"
"It is not proof I seek," Lucifer's eyes stretched up as the vision of his brother shimmered and settled, "it is comfort and joy." He pushed up off the grass, off the firm ground and slithered back up Michael's body. "They ... humans are allowed the comfort and joy. I desire it for us." They pulled in the same air, skin glanced off skin and Lucifer pressed his lips to Michael's. The desire that shot through his body was unlike anything he had ever been blessed with experiencing. Shuddering, Lucifer felt his hold on the vessel slip slightly and the shadow of his wings spread out full behind his body casting a shadow over Michael's form. He brought his celestial limbs forward and wrapped Michael within his shadow briefly, prophetic in its irony, and he pulled himself back within the vessel.
The connection was unexpected, the feel of his brother's spirit, so strong and sure in Heaven, wrapped around him here, on Earth. Any hesitations Michael still held shifted and melted away in the wake of the familiar presence sliding through him, followed by skin - bright and burning. "Yes," he murmured and his human arms extended and tightened over bone and muscle and flesh. Michael caught the flash in Lucifer's eyes, want, then he dipped forward to touch their lips
together. The weight of his decision seemed to shift the world around them and the waves temporarily crashed louder, the wind blew harder, the earth turned on its axis and they continued down this path. Michael let Lucifer take control, guide them, though the vessel seemed to act on instinct, tongue extending to whisper along silky flesh.
All the elements around Lucifer seemed more vibrant, more alive. The air around the two earth-bound angels seemed to shimmer. He felt Michael's hesitancy at first and then it disappeared and was replaced with a mutual surrender to the pleasure flooding through their vessels. "Let the vessel guide you," Lucifer murmured and they loosened their grip on their vessels, allowing substance to overcome essence for a few moments. From far away one might have seen a sudden wind
whipping into a whirlwind around the two men, grass swirling at their feet as their lips pressed together. Wings appeared and disappeared like phantom limbs, an under painting of the spirits captured within the confines of salacious flesh. It was more than Lucifer had allowed himself to
imagine it being. Michael's responsiveness was natural; a tongue on flesh gave way to shivers, fingers gripping into the muscle of a hip evoked a soft moan, palms travelling down the long curve of a body gave way to a glimmering burst of wings.
Though Michael was aware of the disconnect from his siblings above, he could feel Lucifer, solid and firm above him. Where one brother was hesitant, the other remained confident, sure of each touch. The gentle slide of fingers, warm and slick from salvia. The answering murmur of approval. Grass warm and silk, moulding and shaping under the arch of a spine. Lucifer. The name a
permanent and resounding chant along his senses. And the earth shifted beneath them, the clouds rolling past with the breeze that would not chill the glisten of sweat along their flesh. Connected. As only two mortal beings should be, greater than the cosmos in all their entirety. Michael learned from each touch, the wonder of the human experience. Marvelling at their solitude. Simply them
when there were always others. And his spirit pulled forth to glide with his brothers, to know the other's thoughts, to bind and seal them as one being, graceful in each movement.
Lucifer felt Michael yield beneath him and in absolute awe he wrapped his arms around his brother, hands in perpetual motion across the silken shell barely able to contain the angel. Light seeped through the cracks in Michael's vessel, heated passion leaking out in bright wisps around them. Pressing against each other Lucifer gave way to the sensitivity of his vessel. Glides of heated flesh, the surrender once more of Michael with an open mouth and warm moist breath. The air around them broke into pieces shattered by angelic sighs and gasps as they become one. Lucifer's wish made real by Michael's love for him.
"Brother..." Michael whispered praise through the simple exhale of the endearment, no longer a name, weighted with more. It was as if they could move the white cliffs with their motions, bodies rocking as one, spirits reaching to graze and collide. Michael could not fathom such a bliss, could not comprehend a moment beyond this perfection. One. As if nothing could break them, invincible to higher fates and paths of destiny. Wings shimmered with the gentle shake of the body above him and Michael caressed the very soul of his brother, inhaled and registered the twinge of sea salt. Lips parted over his, tongues met around another gasp, and Michael allowed his vessel to tighten and pull, flex and release muscles that rippled in response.
The speed of the wind rose around their bodies, hair whipped against sanguine cheeks as the overpowering fragrance of lilies flooded the air around them. Michael he whispered with lips and with his spirit; his brother. Heat and joy cascaded through the vessel and through Lucifer; a release far beyond the physical. For the very first time in all his existence, since he became the first son he felt peace ... he felt love. Their Father had not seen fit to gift them with emotions but Lucifer was certain, beyond any shadow of any doubt that this was love. Wings shifted, breath sighed from straining lungs as the sky darkened above them - swirling with the intensity of their moment. Michael had never considered all the ways the human body could act. Even as his spirit fluttered and shook, he was aware of this body's racing heart, of blood coursing through veins thickly. Once more he relaxed back into the grass, let the gentle trickle of the breeze caress his skin. "Lucifer..." he spoke on the gentle exhale, resting his palm against heated flesh, feeling the quiver of muscles beneath his touch. With each slow fill of lungs the sky cleared, the world straightened, but Michael could feel his very essence glowing.
"You are beautiful, brother." Lucifer embraced Michael, the hands of his vessel cradling the face of Michael's. Smooth skin, heated by sun from above and blood from within. He knew this would be something so beautiful that he would only regret, forever, it was to be but once. "Have we stayed too long?" Lucifer felt somehow indebted to these vessels, overcome with the need to leave them unharmed. Sadness. Would the banishment not come sooner now? Follow not a sinner. Lucifer, one last time, pressed gentle lips to Michael's brow. "My kiss is my word, never another, never
more love than I have for you."
"There can be no other," Michael said softly in return, the feeling of sadness was added to the list of emotions that Michael knew he should not feel. "I will forever love you my brother, beyond the time of your departure. Until we meet once more," his essences swirled with upset and he rose, curling smooth fingers along discarded fabric. "Undoubtedly our missing presence has been noted, we must return."
Their final moments on God's earth, soft green fragrant grass under their feet, passed slowly and yet were over far too soon. The ache within Lucifer was like a void. He knew now he would feel
the loss of his brother. "Until we meet once more," on earth as it should have been in heaven. Lucifer set his vessel free, spiralling quickly upward back into the fold of brothers and sister, back to the cold and distant Father he could no longer please.
Michael hesitated only a moment, long enough to cast his eyes once more over the ocean. Until he was no more, Michael would remember this moment. As he lifted to return, to follow Lucifer back to their home, he could sense the shift, the disturbance. It was time. Neither would be allowed peace for the end had come in its own shape. My sons the voice of their Father and Michael braced himself to bow down and ask for forgiveness as Lucifer never would.
Banished Cast out of heaven. Torn from the warmth and love of their Father. Torn from his brothers and sisters. Cast out. Michael. And so began the wait, time beyond all time, marked only by the absence of Michael and the way the wound heeled. The first moments for Lucifer - he thought he would simply cease to exist. No angelic voices, no presence, no Michael. Time passed, Lucifer reigned in Hell, a dominion like no other. The eternal prison for those humans also rejected by the all-loving Father.
Souls passed through Lucifer's hands as the sand once had. Honey coloured dunes and his brother. It became easier to exist in the absence of his brothers and sisters. The gaping wound left by Michael began to heal. And the souls, so many souls, dribbled through his grasp.
It was a cruel irony that Michael would be called to Earth to defeat his fallen brother. Cruel indeed, from a supposed all-loving God. Perhaps - he would exchange a few words with Michael before he slayed him. The strangest expression flitted across Lucifer's face. Michael. Wisps of him still lingered, like the scent of smoke on a jacket.
There was an unease settling amongst their peace, a fluttering of thoughts like whispers, and Michael could feel them betrayed our Father. Questions. Lucifer. Michael was unaccustomed to the unpleasant swirling. As he sought the comfort of his Father he could feel the others shift, make way, minds skittering away as if Michael may alter them in simple passing. As if they knew exactly what he had done. Though he knew they did not.
Father. Michael pleaded and shied from the thoughts, too heavy. Too much at once. Lacking the one familiar he’d come to know as his.
The warmth of his Father curled around him, deep and reassuring. It served to stop the upsetting swirl of his brother’s and sister’s. In the presence of his God it was only them. I do not understand Father. I can no longer feel him. It is upsetting.
Michael was gathered up from his place, covered in warmth, soothed. You are forgiven your transgressions my son for you seek forgiveness. Your brother sees not his wrong. And worse, he believes he was right. One day you shall suffer the repercussions of your actions, for now, be at peace.
As he was restored to the presence of his siblings, his Father’s comfort slid away, flickered out. And it was cold in a way Michael was never prepared for. It seemed the only option was to withdraw. Find peace in solitude amongst creation.
The world Michael walked was falling. People were fading into lust and temptation. Human years slipped away and Michael roamed for solace. When he would return to his Heaven his missing presence had always been noted. But here in his human vessel Michael could allow himself to feel. Something he never would have known. Before.
Before.
“Brother…” Michael turned his eyes to the horizon, raised the hand of the vessel to marvel at the cool liquid along his cheeks. Michael knew of the plan for this world. Soon the vessel he walked in, and those it associated with each day, would be no more. A clean slate in the form of water, wiping out the old. Like the tears on his flesh now. To cleanse.
Michael would mourn the loss of his brother, of his Lucifer, until he was no more. But he would also return to his home, to his brother’s and sister’s. He would step into the role as leader, Archangel. And one day he would battle his brother, kill him, and still mourn silently for a path they had never been meant to travel.
Rain began to fall from the sky and Michael extended the arm of his vessel to feel the cool drops. His brother loved the rain. If only he could have understood his place. If only his brother could appreciate other beauties of this world, bow down to the greatest of creations as was requested. Michael left his vessel to return to his home. He would not step on this earth for a nearly immeasurable time. A time Michael almost prayed would never come and yet, knew without a doubt that it would.
Not here but below, in a place he knew he would one day soon return to, a cloud of fire rose to the sky and the Heavens mourned the loss of one of their best warriors. It has begun? His brother, to his side, and the words rippled through the angels begun. begun. It was an understanding, an acceptance of the path they had now been set along, the same one they'd always been traveling down.
It has Michael reached through the dimensions and whispered a soothing touch along the baby's brow. Do not cry. You will be fine. Michael could sense their importance, two young boys, two young brothers, one lost father. Their fate, determined for them before they even had a say. Sad.
Sad.
him. Dean Winchester? Like before the words had their rippling effect, shaking the Heavens.
Winchester. Winchester. A flash of the world to come, tense shoulders, narrowed eyes, betrayal, mistrust, heartbreak. Love.
Michael shuddered and the Heavens shook and his siblings turned and faded away until only the one to his side stood. Leave me be Castiel he withdrew and pushed away, never completely alone in a place always connected like threads. One to the other, them, they, we. Never I. Never us. Not like before.
You will see him once more his brother slipped away, like the others, always lingering but understanding and patient. He had disrupted the peace, unsettled the calm, calling one by name, singling one out. Michael shifted back to the family. How things would change. The fate of the world. And soon. Soon. Soon there would be him. Once more. After so long. Lucifer. Michael could feel the air thicken, shift, flare with the name never spoken. His brothers and sisters recoiled and mourned but never in the way Michael always would.
Soon
Time would bring about change. Samuel Winchester. He was born, he thrived, and he was prepared. Soon enough - the boy - the vessel would be ready.
Lucifer devised new ways to pass the time. Like all Angels he was a creature destined to be a soldier. A heavenly warrior. Banished, Lucifer was but a soulless creature with the means to dole out the worst of brutality. No clocks marked the time in Hell - only screaming until your voice left you and then your existence was snuffed out. But Lucifer's greatest trick was the reanimation of every soul, every time they died at the hands of one of his demons.
And yes, Lucifer's children - those corrupted human souls so violated and so broken that their humanity began to bleed away - they were there at his side.
Hell, Lucifer's domain. Dean Winchester handed to him on a platter. Sam Winchester would be harder to come by.
Chapter 2
Lucifer uncurled his fingers from the human’s wrist and let go of her hair. The crumpled, lifeless body fell at his feet. Oh – he hadn’t caused the woman’s misfortune – he had simply stumbled across four of his Father’s wonderful earthbound children beating her to death. The violence neither repulsed the Fallen Angel nor surprised him. Senseless violence, he had learned, was exclusive among all God’s creatures to the human being. How ironic.
Lucifer was tiring of the confines of his temporary vessel. No special gifts, no powers, no peculiar strength. Lucifer was, for the time being, housed by a most average looking human. The fallen angel was now a man in his middle years, short blond hair. This vessel had face that seemed to inspire neither fear nor comfort in other humans. The meat was chafing around Lucifer’s essence. Stepping over the crumpled dead body Lucifer cast his eyes about the fallen city. Derelict
buildings, long since condemned, debris, human detritus was cast about the stress as though it had fallen from the sky. It might well have. If Lucifer inhaled deeply enough he could perceive – at the edges of his human senses an awareness of fire, fires burning, houses and department stores smouldering; Flesh. There was human flesh burning somewhere. He raised an eyebrow.
Lucifer couldn't rid himself of the sad smile carved into the features of his vessels face. What had taken his father seven days to create the humans had all but destroyed in months. They had laid waste to almost every building he could see; the cities were degrading into war zones. The people ... the humans who remained ... were terrified. Lucifer could taste their fear on the air like stale sweat. The air was full of industrial contaminants now, iron filings, lead, and coal. Things were reversing, the tide of evolution flipped completely on its head. What was once driven by electricity no longer moved. Lucifer often watched the humans fight to the death for gasoline. It entertained him.
Sighing out a breath, warm and moist Lucifer turned slightly. He would not find his true vessel here, but it would be time soon enough. Sam Winchester.
Dean Winchester dreamt of his brother, as he often did. "Sam..." he whispered, so much softer than his words as of late. His mind fluttered with images of touches, haunting and familiar and too long lost. His body thrummed with want and need and pain.
Michael sat along the edge of the bed and watched. He had once spoken about dreams with another. With his brother. Lucifer envied their father's greatest creation and their simple abilities such as touching and dreaming. "Wake," he breathed the word and his image flickered. No one of importance, the vaguest shape of a vessel Michael had once inhabited hundreds of thousands of years ago. With another. His brother. Dressed in modern clothes, meant to be the least threatening. "Wha..." Dean shifted and rolled, the mattress squeaking beneath him. Michael counted to three before the man was sitting up, staring at him with wide eyes. "Fuck. Not again. Who are you? How did you find me?"
A small and understanding smile tilted his lips up and Michael spared a moment to admire the beauty of the man - his sculpted chest, his sparkling jade eyes, his sharp lines and sleep ruffled hair - before providing an answer. "Dean, I have always been able to find you. At least here."
"What? Shit... you are an angel. Already talking in puzzles," Dean snorted and shoved off the mattress, crossing swiftly to his duffel bag and pulling on a shirt. "So how did you do it? I mean, I'm supposed to be protected from you guys now and I know I haven't run into any of your wanna be angels."
Michael was fond of Dean. He had watched him grow from afar, and he knew his thoughts. He knew how he suffered, how he mourned a loss greater than himself. And Michael understood in more ways than the human would ever know. "I do not know exactly where you are, but I can feel you. I always have been able too. And like my brother has come to yours, I come to you. I realize you have met some of my other siblings, you have left quite an... impression." Michael smiled softly. Zachariah had thoughts regarding Dean Winchester that would make their father cast the Heavens in darkness with his disapproval. If anyone could find their father. "But I could no longer put off this visit. I had hoped you would say yes before this."
The lines along Dean's face shifted into understanding and he stilled in his place, hand curled tight in the fabric along his chest, eyes wide, breath sharp. Panic. "You... you're..."
"I will not harm you," Michael said softly, head tilting to the side. Dean's fear was tangible, chilling the room, and Michael grew sad. His brother's had done little to inspire faith in this man, outside of the one who saw Dean's true potential. Michael made a note to insist upon contacting his straying brother before he could drift too far. There was still hope for Dean's protector, just as there was still hope for Dean. Michael could reach him. "You have to say yes before I can enter you. So I have not come here to force you into it."
"But you've come to ask me to say yes," Dean stated through a clenched jaw, no question in his voice. He shifted into movement once more, stepping into a pair of jeans and tugging up sharply. "Why the fuck would I say yes to you? After everything you and your siblings have put me through? And you call yourself angels."
"I will admit, they have occasionally gotten carried away," Michael nodded and rose from the bed, turning slowly to look around the motel room. "Not all of them. You and Castiel have become friends. He has helped you."
"Yeah and he's basically been killed because of it," Dean snorted and Michael could feel the weight of his contempt. "Who brought him back anyway?"
Michael settled his eyes on Dean, smiling softly, "I did. You were so sad at his loss. And I know he will do all in his power to help you."
Dean looked momentarily surprised, eyes dropping as he lifted his shoulder in a shrug, "yeah well, thanks for that. So why haven't you come before? Why do you let your angels do their dirty work?" "They are not my angels," Michael sighed softly though there was no real need to breathe in his current state. "I only have so much control over them and that is constantly dwindling. They had the best intentions in mind, though they chose some less... conventional ways to try and make you understand."
"You could say that again," Dean rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "Look, let me save you some trouble. I didn't say before. I'm not saying yes now. So you can just be on your way."
"I understand how you miss your brother," Michael considered Dean with soft eyes, making no move to close the distance between them.
"Don't." Dean bit the word out, body hardening like stone. "You can come in here and spout all your vessel BS at me as much as you'd like, hell you can even insult me, beat me if you want. But don't you dare talk about my brother and what you understand." The man crowded into his space, breathing heavily through his nose.
Michael did not step back or recoil, despite the look of disgust in Dean's eyes. He could never understand the human's ability to be so very cold and angry. "Dean, I may be able to give that back to you. Give Sam back to you."
Dean blinked slowly, eyes dropping down and lifting up, heavy with a flicker of emotions that Michael could not name in their entirety. "You can't give me that. I'm not stupid. Is this a new technique? Because it's pretty damn shitty."
"Sam will say yes to Lucifer," Michael said softly, lips tilted down in a faint frown. He was sure of his words and from the look on Dean's face, the man believed him. Even if he was unwilling to admit to it. "It will happen soon. If you want your brother back, I must speak with my brother, before he has a chance to damage your world forever."
"Your brother? What? Lucifer? You still think of him that way?" Dean was shifting into the role of a hunter, one he knew well. Too curious for his own good. "Isn't he like, all that is evil? Satan? The king of Hell?"
For the first time in their conversation Michael turned away, stepping back from Dean. "Lucifer... my brother..." Being in this dimension, on Earth, would always make him think of the before. "There are things I cannot explain. But if I had the chance to speak to my brother. Just speak, not harm, then I could change things. I could make him understand."
"So why don't you just go talk to him?" Dean huffed and Michael understood the layers of annoyance for what they were. Dean didn't understand what Michael was talking about and it unsettled him. "Isn't he up here now? Cas said the gates were open so can't you just..." Dean gestured with his hands and a shrug.
Michael couldn't resist smiling at Dean's logic. "If only it were so easy. I can find you like this because we share a connection. But Lucifer is in a vessel, roaming the earth, and even if I could appear to him, he would not see me. The only way I will get him to talk to me is if I am in you. My true vessel."
"Why? Why Sam and I? Couldn't you have picked someone else? Sam hasn't said yes right? Can't you guys just... pick someone else?" Dean dropped down on the mattress and he looked so defeated Michael's image flickered with sadness.
"This is just how it must be. No one chose. It simply was. I understand you do not believe in destiny Dean and I am not asking you to."
"How do you know he'll actually talk to you? I mean, once he's in Sam and you're in me, isn't it just supposed to be some big brawl, winner comes out swinging?" Dean's words were soft, careful, and Michael could feel things shifting. Dean was beginning to weigh the options, seriously consider them like he never had before.
Michael picked his words carefully. He would not lie to Dean and he would not twist the truth. This was too important. "I do not know for sure. He may not give me a chance to speak. But... is it not worth the risk? This is your only chance." Michael closed the distance between them and sat on the mattress, tilted toward him. "Let me ask you Dean; is the risk worth it, knowing there might be a chance to have Sam back?"
The words settled over Dean and Michael could see his shoulders sink. "And I'm supposed to what? Say 'screw you mankind. I'm just gonna let some angel take over my body and have a nice ol' chat with his brother. Hopefully things will go well, if not, you can expect an Armageddon of epic proportions'." Dean lifted his eyebrows at Michael expectantly.
"If you continue to say no, that 'Armageddon of epic proportions' will happen regardless," Michael met the solid jade of Dean's eyes. "Sam will say yes Dean. And if you do, there is still hope. I will not come to you until he does. And then I will let you go."
"If he doesn't talk to you... you'll kill him, or try too. You'll fight," Dean said softly, face heavy with weariness.
"Yes. It is what... I am meant to do. Should he choose to not talk."
They fell into silence, a long stretch of minutes sitting side by side of the mattress. Michael pushed no further. He could wait. Would wait. Didn't have much choice but to. The weight of the world rested on Dean's shoulders, the balance of everything swaying, waiting for an answer. This would be the final one. If Dean said no once more Michael would call off the angels. This was the last hope.
"Yes," Dean whispered, fingers pressed together against his lips.
Michael turned toward him, nodded, shimmered and disappeared. He'd see Dean again soon, next time from the inside.
Sam had a Butcher's Bill matched by no other. What had Sam Winchester not done wrong in Dean's eyes? Each time Sam allowed himself to wallow in the misery of the past year he found that he sank deeper into the depths of despair. He had nothing and no one.
So - what had been the first hairline fracture between them? Perhaps the demon blood clawing its way through Sam's veins. He could never be sure. He had just begun one day, to sense a change between himself and Dean, a change he would come to regret.
The first time Dean had seen Sam with Ruby had been the worst. Sam would never forget the look on his brother's face. He had never seen Dean so angry, disgusted, and betrayed. And why? All because Sam was doing what he thought was right. Sam had given Ruby what she wanted to get what he needed. It was one of those things that just happened. He made hundreds of decisions every day: toast or cereal, new or old jeans, the gas station or the next one down the road, drink the demon blood or stay weak. Some rocks just made bigger ripples in the surface of the pond.
if you walk out that door don't you ever come back.
The Winchester charm passed down from Father to Son. You hurt me and I hurt you back. Quid Pro Quo. It's a lonely life.
And so Sam had left the first time. He walked out because Dean had threatened him; because Dean didn't touch him anymore. Sam walked out because each time he closed his eyes it was to be greeted by images of his brother's flushed face and kiss swollen lips. He walked out because the only friend he had - the only one who didn't make him feel like a monster was ... a demon.
But - he and Dean bounced back and forth; drawn together by their love, pulled apart by their destinies. It was as though they had no concept of how to let each other go. Bodies, sweat-slick and overheated sliding against one another's, sometimes, only moments away from the leaving.
Add another chalk mark to the Butcher's Bill. He believed Ruby, he chose to follow her and he was tricked into raising Lucifer to walk upon the earth once more. It would never be enough that Sam had held Ruby while his brother killed her. It was an impossible thing to live down. Dean had no trust left, barely any patience and a thinly veiled disgust for Sam's other nature. Sam left again, walked out the door and it was far worse than it had ever been because Dean spoke not a single word.
Sam's problem became his need. Demon blood could be very hard to find. He needed. He went without. Hours became days, days became weeks and Sam's hands began to tremor. He needed it. He needed the demon blood that ran thick and rich through all their veins.
Ruby was gone. Dean he had left behind him although Sam still felt that Dean had left him long before that. They went from brothers to lovers and then to strangers and every part of Sam ached. Sam had nothing but a craving for blood and all the shame and anger that went with needing something.
Sam didn't find a demon to give him blood. Lucifer found Sam - his vessel. Samuel Winchester. It was a temporary vessel Lucifer inhabited when he first found Sam. A middle aged blonde male with a rugged face and sad countenance. "It is a terrible thing, betrayal." Lucifer's voice was gentle. He spoke from the dark corner of Sam's run-down motel room. His eyes had a strange kindness about them.
Hunter's instinct had told him there was a presence in the room before he heard a voice. Sam knew who this creature was. You don't stand a few feet away from the Devil and not know. There was something remarkably unsettling about Lucifer. "Betrayal?" Sam's voice shook, unsure, "What are you talking about?"
Lucifer stepped closer. "Your brother, my brother. It seems that you and I both need to move on from our past." Lucifer had been watching Sam for a very long time. At first through the eyes of his children - the demons - then his daughter, Ruby. Later there were the tantalizing tales he heard while earthbound of the chasm between the brothers and then the final split.
"Your brothers?" Sam's voice was soft, his mind alternating between escape and curiosity. "You mean the other angels?"
"Well," Lucifer moved closer slowly, deliberately. His eyes moved over his vessel - Samuel -appraisingly. "One brother in particular," Lucifer said, "Michael." He set his vessel into motion moving around the motel room, handling things, touching. "Michael and I were ... in love once I think." Lucifer paused as a spark of all-too-familiar bitterness and loss flared within him.
“Look – the romance back ground is great and all – but what the Hell do you want?” Sam’s voice shook with anger, fear, he used to be so much better at telling the difference.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow and laughed softly. “Now, now, you don’t even know what I’ve got to tell you.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. “You humans do tend to jump to conclusions.” The room was close, not enough air and Lucifer could smell the human’s breath, his sweat … his fear.
made, “did it feel as though something had been torn from your chest? That’s how I felt.” He hummed quietly, surprised at his own admission, “love seems like such painful process.”
Sam’s teeth were clenched and he hauled himself off his bed and pulled on his jeans. “You cause pain every day. I know what you did to Dean in hell, know what you made him do.” He pushed his hair back off his forehead, frustrated.
Lucifer nodded slowly, “I do have my moments when I’m successful. But, Samuel, where’s your Dean now, with my Michael I assume.” Pushing off the wall Lucifer walked slowly across the room to look out the window. “The thing about my Michael is that he’ll be quite fond of Dean by now, won’t care for making him a weapon I suppose.”
“A weapon?” A chill ran across Sam’s skin.
“Don’t test me Sam. You know the lore as well as I do. Michael’s sword, his vessel is the only thing that can stop, well, me.” He held his hands out palms up for a moment and dipped his head as though humble. Obviously everything would work far smoother if Sam could see Lucifer’s side of the situation.
“So,” Sam laughed nervously, “why on Earth would you think I’d agree to you, just so you could destroy my brother?” Sam might be hurt, broken by Dean but he loved him – probably loved him more now than he had when they were together.
“I have no intention of killing your brother.” It wasn’t a lie, he might have to kill Michael and if Michael just happened to be residing in Dean at the time….
“So – what’s the advantage for me,” Sam’s fingers twitched at his side, his heart racing feebly. “Well, that wretched aching need inside of you – that would be gone.” He said it as casually as he could; knowing the weight his words would have on the youngest Winchester. “And by that,” he smiled, “I mean both the ache for demon blood and the ache for your brother.” Turning slowly he walked over to Sam, stepping too close to him, pressing him without touching, “you think I don’t know the pain you feel? If I hurt any more over the loss of my brother’s love I feel I’d just shatter,” he shrugged, “into a million pieces.”
Sam’s brows drew together in a deep V as his pain surged up within him. “Doesn’t mean,” he growled, “I want anything more to do with you.” It wasn’t like Sam hadn’t made more than enough mistakes already. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth Sam glanced down, not wanting to see Lucifer.
“No, but I’m sure, like me you don’t want to spend the rest of you existence alone. I mean,” he shrugged, “I can keep shifting from vessel to vessel – it ruins them you know… kills them if I stay long enough.” Sinking down onto the edge of the bed Lucifer looked up at Sam. “It’s the strangest thing,” he murmured then looked up, “children … they last longer than anyone else.” Smiling he rubbed his hands on his thighs.
“Children…” Sam whispered, “you can’t be serious… children….” His eyes were watery, bright when he met Lucifer’s gaze.
“Sam, you’re the perfect, the only vessel for me that’s permanent. You know, as well as I do , that the damage is done. Dean’s gone, the rest of your family dead, the angels weaken, incompetent turning against one another.” Lucifer sensed Sam’s resolve begin to crumble.
doing … what was right.” He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of his brother’s look of disgust flashing before his eyes.
Lucifer pushed up, “it was never your fault Sam. It was just destiny. Fate. It always was and always will be.” He walked closer to Sam, dipping his head slightly to try and catch his gaze. “Your
brother is gone, Sam. You know it. I know it. I lost a younger brother and I’d give anything to have him back, but it’s not about to happen. You do know that’s not going to happen for you either, don’t you?” He touched his fingers to Sam’s chin and watched the human’s shoulders shake with grief.
“Take me, Sam, you won’t be alone, you won’t be broken, and you won’t miss him – I can promise you that.” Lucifer pulled Sam into his arms even as he heard the man whisper.
“Yes.”
From the moment his brother rose from the underworld, Michael had been aware. Like the
suggestion of a thought, nagging along the edges of his essence. The battle that raged on Earth had always been there, now it heightened, stirring up and shifting and Michael waited. His time would come. Without ceasing his brothers and sisters drifted through and around him. Seeking comfort, reassurance, hope. Seeking a Father who could not be found. And Michael waited.
Then, as he had always expected, Lucifer swayed Sam Winchester. Some part of him had clung onto a hope that the man would be strong enough, but Michael was more than aware exactly how persuasive his brother could be. It had always just been a matter of timer. After all, Michael himself had not been strong enough.
The heavens rippled in the aftermath of Lucifer entering his true vessel, a flutter of upset and discord. Once more his brother shook the peace of their home. His home. Lucifer belonged there no more. Time. Time His siblings fluttered around him, nudging, urging, and Michael would know no peace should he choose to stay. Were that even an option any longer.
Though it has been some time since he acquired a vessel, Michael could remember the feel of flesh. It was oddly simple, to locate a God fearing man, to ask him in a whisper of touch to
sacrifice a few hours of time - to help the greater good. Castiel, his brother, was easier to find then the young angel had likely been expecting. No matter what the angel thought, Michael had always known where he was. Someone had to keeps the ties of heaven together in the absence of their Leader.
"Brother," Michael greeted from behind, extending an arm when wide blue eyes shot toward him, narrowing moments later. "You know why I have come."
Castiel shifted nervously in his vessel, though the actions were so fluid Michael knew the truth. This angel had connected completely with his vessel, he would not likely return home, should he ever be asked. "It is time?"
"It is," Michael nodded slowly, sadly.
His brother was hesitant to move and Michael did not blame him his doubts. Their siblings had done little to build hope in the world. An unfortunate circumstance to what should have been good intentions. "Will he survive this?"
