#ic&michael

“Whose it been a long day for, Michael? For you? Up there on your perch in heaven while I’m down here in the trenches. Dealing with War. Dealing with your mess. You understand- any part- of what I have done for you? What I have given up? No of course not. Of course you don’t.”

Lucifer’s shoulders roll “He said you loved him. He’s got his claws sinking into my skin and I can’t pull back for loss of you. This never should have happened.” He’s angry. And it’s clear “I will not unwind with an angel whose got no comprehension of anything save himself. Get out. Go away.”

Michael for a moment is lost, not understanding why they suddenly were at odds again. And then he furrows his brows n confusion.

          “What war? I thought we--” and then his eyes widen. No, not A war, but THE War. His breath is caught in his throat for a moment and hands curl into fists, jaw clenches as for a moment he goes through all the ways he already had tried to kill War, to find a new option.

          “You’d believe WAR over me?” His teeth were still pressed together, anger flaring up inside him and so did the atmosphere around him. He makes a step towards Lucifer.           “Did he hurt you? Did he...” and suddenly he imagines that War did the same to Lucifer as he did to him, and the sky itself becomes dark, rumbling with thunder.

But it’s difficult to only be worried for Lucifer’s safety, it was difficult to only be angry at War. Because Lucifer was saying even worse things.

          “No.” His voice unearthly, close to his original voice and it is a miracle that the earth does not open up to swallow everything. But windows shatter from storm and lightning strikes. And with another step, that happened in less than the blink of an eye he was directly in front of Lucifer. One hand around his throat, the other against his chest, pushing him against the next best wall.

          “I will not allow you to distance yourself again... not let you leave me behind again...” and his eyes are not truly eyes anymore, but mirrors into that Universe made of stars and black holes he was, no white, no irises, no fixed form. 

          (Pre-war verse. So open to angels.)

   he pretends a surprise but does not object, calloused fingers finding their own awkward way of playing with the other’s hair, not unlike the way of a mother gorilla, picking at the parasite in the baby’s hairs. there is something genuinely warm about his trying.

   “are you sure you’re not taking too much on yourself?” he’s teasing, mostly.

“i’m so exhausted. i’m glad her grace is still so small she needs to sleep every few days...”

of course there were other angels that could take care of her instead. heaven was full of willing caretakers. but michael had a weakness for the tiny fledglings. the new kind of angels that sometimes appeared. he just couldn’t handle the idea to let someone else take care of them. though, sooner or later he was forced to let it happen. he was high-commander, not babysitter. 

“i enjoy it. it’s not often that I can be anything else than a commander.”

“Mikey- I can’t love anything. Not- not anyone- how much of this did I drink…” he frowns into the bottle and doesn’t notice that he is surrounded by bottles. Not until he shifts anyway at which point the clinking causes him to frown and with a snap of his fingers the glass goes up in flame. All of it. “Think it’ll make sand? Then we can have a huge mirror under our feet’n I wonder how you’d look all spread out on a mirror……. Seen a lot’a human’s get naked together but never seen angels do it…..I think you’d like look’n at yourself with me behind you.” He grins, laughs, almost like he used to “they should make a stained glass of that! HA! Instead of your foot on my head it’d be my-” but he doesn’t finish because he gets distracted again by the question again.

“Wish I could love. Me’n Gabe are work’n on it but it’s-…. ‘s hard.”

Michael frowned slightly at the way he was called. But he’d not complain right now, might make Lucifer use it even more often even. He had that annoying streak... at least long ago. Teasing could easily turn into something else by now.

“It must have been a lot to have an effect...” he says, amused half smile half grin on his lips. And maybe he tries to ignore the answer. The answer that he was not loved. Maybe it was too late, maybe Lu just felt some nostalgia towards him. Maybe everything had been a big mistake. (But did he truly care if it was love when he could have Lucifer even without it?)

“Uggh...” the most annoyed sound left him, hand wiping over his face. “You sound like someone I really don’t want to think about right now...” Or ever. Unless he felt like looking for the mysterious person himself.

@deastris

Sickness had struck Michael. Which was actually not too rare of a thing. It happened rather often when he had met one of those that had left heaven. Coughing up a black tar like substance. Only a few knew of it since he hid away until it was over again.

This time, it had been especially bad, so bad even Michael was told to rest, sleep. A rare thing for an angel. 

But it had disappeared entirely again, at least it seemed that way as Michael was suddenly not to be found in his bed anymore.

The archangel stepped behind Raquel, hands were placed on the sides of Raq’s hips while his chin came to rest on the other’s shoulder.

          “Raq...”

His voice soft, quiet but the smile on his lips was also to be heard in his voice.

          “I was trying to find Lucifer... he is not on any of the usual places...            did you see him? Or the others?”