#young!michael

‘One of my girls saw you in the area.’ Cordelia deposits herself in an armchair and crosses one leg over the other, ‘She said how the two of you were quite…taken with each other.’ She watches me as I stand stoic facing her. ‘I’ve known you long enough to know someone like you isn’t capable of love-’

‘You don’t know a thing about me.’

‘Is that so?’ Cordelia glowers at me, her tone filling with ice. She takes a breath, her voice a mere tremor, ‘How you wound me. You above even my mother could so precisely plunge a knife into my heart.’ 

‘And I’m the one with theatrics.’ I glance upstairs, knowing Michael and Violet are trying to listen in. ‘I am working on a project. It’s…classified.’

’Nothing is classified from me.’ 

I feel her against my mind, pushing against the walls I’ve constructed over so many years. Prying for information, looking for a gap she can slither past. ‘Stop it.’  A weight pushes against me, with more power behind it than I’ve felt in a long time. I let out a gasp as Michael, broken and bruised lying in the middle of the road springs to the front of my mind. ‘That is an invasion of privacy!’ I thrust my hands out, pushing both Cordelia and the armchair back a few paces. 

But she’s already seen too much. Neither of us speak as Cordelia digests the information she saw. I don’t know how much she gleamed from that picture, but the Supreme rises and walks over to the window. She looks out first at the suburban row of houses and then her eyes fall on Mrs Greendale tending to her petunias. ‘Myrtle would be so disappointed.’ 

I can feel the moisture in my eyes at the mention of her name. How I miss Myrtle Snow more than anyone else on the entire planet, ‘That isn’t fair.’

‘He must be one special boy.’ 

‘He is.’  

Cordelia turns back to me, ‘No boy is special, Y/N.’ She lectures, ‘Especially when it comes to magic. You know this.’ 

‘You’re mistaken.’ 

‘Perhaps we should let him demonstrate then.’ Cordelia’s voice rises, loud enough for Michael to hear. ‘After all, you have done so much for him.’ She’s outwardly challenging him and I beg Michael doesn’t take the bait. 

Silence rings throughout the house, punctuated only by a weed whacker. 

‘Regardless of how vital you deem this project, you’re wasting coven funds.’ Cordelia’s tone cuts through me, her barb about Myrtle still ringing in my ears. ‘I won’t continue to finance some doe-eyed fantasy of home-educating this boy’s magic. He can attend Hawthorne, like all other Warlocks. I’ll contact Ariel at once to have a meeting with the both of you.’ 

She moves back towards the door, evidently finished with our discussion. I have to chase her, my footsteps falling behind her heeled ones as we re-enter the hallway. ‘That isn’t an option.’ 

She pauses, ‘Your opinion isn’t my concern.’ 

‘You aren’t sending him to Hawthorne.’ I repeat, my hands balling into fists. ‘Those Warlocks will fill his head with egotistical, dogmatic and misogynistic views about not only us witches but who we are as women.’ 

Cordelia’s eyes drift from me to the top of the stairs. Michael stands there with Violet, watching the scene unfold below. She then notices my hands and the protectiveness that flows between Michael and I. ‘Who is she?’ Michael asks, ‘Why are you fighting about me?’ There’s an exhaustion in his voice and I can’t blame him.

It’s been one hell of a day for all of us. 

‘My name is Cordelia Goode.’ The Supreme remains where she is, ‘I am the Headmistress of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Ladies’. She makes sure to stress the last word. 

‘The one from TV!’ Violet thuds down the stairs, ‘I saw your interview. You’re a witch too!’

Cordelia nods and I put my hand out, blocking Violet’s path on the stairs, ‘She isn’t a friend.’ I warn her. 

‘But you’re both witches.’ Violet points out, ‘Did she teach you? Is this like a Professor Snape thing?’

I don’t answer, but Cordelia laughs. ‘Well I don’t brood over my potions that’s for sure.’ 

‘Why are you here?’ Michael keeps things on track. He hasn’t moved, but his chest puffs out ready to fly into action. 

‘You have magic?’ Cordelia asks him, ‘I’d like to see it.’ 

Michael’s eyes flash to me. He’s waiting for my approval, but I don’t know what is best for him. I’ve trained him well, as far as I’m concerned but Michael could show Cordelia a little too much. 

Is that a risk I can take, knowing what becomes of them in the future? 

Michael sweeps down the stairs and past me. His boots clunk on the floorboards as he leads the way into the kitchen. Cordelia follows behind, then Violet and I bring up the rear. No one speaks as Michael removes a glass tumblr from one of the cabinets and places it down on the breakfast bar. Cordelia seats herself right before him, as if Michael is about to perform a kids magic show. Violet takes a seat too, she is the only one showing her true expression. Violet bounces a little, thrilled at the idea of seeing some more magic. 

Cordelia hardly even moves, she sits statuesque as Michael inspects the glass and then turns it over the bottom facing upwards. His hand slides like liquid as he moves his hand above the glass, rising upwards. The Tumblr follows the movement of his hand, rising slowly into the air as if on strings. 

I remain behind Violet and Cordelia, keeping a careful eye on the Supreme witch. She remains unmoved, but Michael’s only displaying basic magic at the moment. Violet however, lets out a gasp of intrigue. Her reaction is enough to build Michael’s confidence. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as smoke appears in the Tumblr, curling round itself as the glass rotates upwards. The second the tumblr is floating, right side up a flame bursts into life inside the glass. Cordelia twitches as the glass gently returns to the surface, the Supreme leaning in a little closer for a better look. Michael’s fingers reach in and snuff out the flame. 

’You have…impressive control.’ Cordelia praises, ‘It is rare to see a male with so much precision when it comes to his craft.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael preens, his orbs never straying from Cordelia. I’m sure he can feel the immense power the Supreme radiates, just as I can. He knows she could be a fierce friend or extreme enemy already. Michael’s hands fold behind his back as he draws himself up to his full height, ‘I’m sure that is enough to meet your Mallory.’ 

The air leaves my body as Violet springs up from her chair. She showers Michael in praise, picking up the tumblr to inspect it. The smell of smoke lingers in the air as Cordelia sits there, stupefied at Michael’s revelation. 

Mallory. 

I have completely forgotten about her. 

‘You have talent.’ Cordelia rises from her seat, ‘It is rare to meet a Warlock capable of Clairvoyance.’ 

‘I can do many things.’ 

But Michael’s arrogance has Cordelia’s head snapping back to him, ’Bragging, will get you nowhere in my Coven. I am highly aware that it is Y/N’s tutelage which has taken you to the level you are at now. Not your own power alone.’ 

Silence rings as Cordelia seems to tower over Michael. Despite him being taller, Michael shrinks under the intensity of her gaze. For a moment, both Michael Langdon and Cordelia Goode glower at each other, an unspoken display of dominance happening between the both of them. ‘Perhaps you should let me prove that I am more than a rival to your Mallory.’ 

I try and search through Cordelia’s mind, trying to unpick a flash or glimpse of Mallory. What has she told Cordelia? Does the Supreme already know everything about Michael? 

Is this all a test? 

A laugh tinkles through the room, rising from Cordelia. ‘You believe you could be the next Supreme?’ She goads, ‘I’m sorry, but it simply is not possible.’

‘And yet you had no idea yourself of the true power you were capable of.’ Michael remarks, ‘Were you?’

‘My power was smothered by my mother.’ Cordelia answers, ‘You are being encouraged by Y/N. They are very different cases.’ 

‘All I ask is the chance to prove myself.’

Violet watches the two as if she’s watching the Wimbledon finals. She nibbles on a nail, sliding back to stand beside me. ‘Who’s Mallory?’ She whispers to me, having seen how quiet I’ve become. 

I don’t answer her, but I know it’s time I got involved. ‘Well you’ve seen it now.’ I raise my voice to get their attention, ‘Do you deem him special enough to have your attention?’ 

‘I’ve seen all I need to.’ She says, ‘For now. However, my decision remains the same.’ She raises a finger, sensing the rush of fury that sparks from me. ‘You will not challenge me, Y/N. I don’t care who you think you are.’

  ‘So it’s what…Hawthorne or nothing?’ I demand, I can see nothing but Cordelia. The rest of the world has blurred, I’m not even aware of Michael stepping over to take me by the forearms, trying to pull me away from my verbal attack. ‘You’ll take away everything I have built here.’ 

Cordelia makes for the door, ‘Don’t guilt-trip me, Y/N.’ Her voice caries a bored tone, ‘I thought perhaps you had changed. I thought Myrtle’s passing was the push you needed to find yourself. That I might have allowed.’ She stops by the door, ‘But I won’t continue to allow you to live in a fantasy.’ She regards Michael, ‘Does he have talent, yes. But it isn’t talent that can be coaxed by me, or even yourself. Robichaux is simply not equipped to have a boy stay amongst the girls and Mallory has already undertaken the test of the Seven Wonders.’ 

The news rocks my world. It’s no surprise to hear Mallory is the next Supreme, that was something I already knew. 

But to have already proven it to Cordelia…what is her angle now? 

Is Mallory biding her time? Poisoning the witches further against the Warlocks? Mallory knows firsthand how the Warlocks tried to end the witches. But will she use that knowledge to her advantage? 

Cordelia watches me carefully, Michael’s hand is against my back. Subtly there, just in case I need him. Violet has remained in the kitchen, sensing the danger in the air. ‘The funny thing Is,’ Cordelia begins, ‘I always thought that if anyone would be my successor, it would be you.’ 

I swallow, ‘That…isn’t possible.’ 

’Myrtle believed otherwise.’ The front door opens and Cordelia steps outside, ‘But Myrtle believed in many things I thought absurd.’ She walks towards the road, a black SUV pulling up outside the house. The back door opens as Cordelia glances over her shoulder, ‘It was nice to meet you, Michael. Give your sister my regards.’ 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

‘I won’t let you go.’ My voice is firm, my hands clasped together on the dining table. Michael sits opposite, Violet beside him.

‘I don’t see the harm.’ Michael says, having already been over this I can tell he’s getting weary. ‘I’d be progressing. Isn’t that the whole point of this?’

I look around the room, my eyes landing on the laptop. Michael’s spreadsheet sits open from one of his accounting clients. Those are the little details I’d miss. Bringing Michael to Robichaux would spell disaster, I couldn’t trust what Mallory or Cordelia may do. 

The risk is just too great. 

’So lemme get it right in my head,’ Violet says, playing with the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘These warlocks are the same as that woman earlier, but they aren’t as powerful as witches.’ 

‘Not generally.’ I answer, ‘Cordelia always liked to remind us how testosterone interferes with their connection to their magic. I assume it’s something to do with arrogance, but I’ve seen many a witch fails because they were too cocky, so I’m not certain how much I believe that.’ 

‘Isn’t that kinda…backwards?’ Michael asks.

‘I think it’s awesome.’ Violet grins, ‘Women have been behind men since like forever, it’s cool we finally have something we’re just naturally better at and no one can dispute it.’

‘That’s the exact problem.’ I remind her, ‘The warlocks resent the witches because they are inferior.’

‘I don’t like this.’ Michael pushes away from the table, ‘It should be up to the individual, not some whacked generalisation.’

I don’t answer him. Flashes of the past flitter through my mind and I make sure Michael cannot slip inside and catch a glimpse. But I can’t get the image of Ariel Augustus burning alive out of my mind’s eye.

I can’t ever forget that day.

‘You do agree.’ Michael has taken my silence as me disagreeing. ‘You like how it is.’ He glowers at me, ‘Makes sense. You’re teaching me, I’m below you. Maybe there are things you aren’t showing me.’

There’s a beat as I register what he’s just said. ‘You ungrateful brat.’ I hiss, my nails dragging along the table. ‘After all I’ve done for you, all I’ve taught and shown you-’

‘Yeah, but there’s also a reason Cordelia came chasing after you.’ Michael retaliates, bearing down on the table his hands flat on the surface. ‘So, what aren’t you telling me. Who is she to you?’

‘No one.’ I say immediately, ‘A mentor from my past. Cordelia and I….we’ve never seen eye to eye.’

‘No offence but that’s kinda obvious.’ Violet says, ‘She looked like she wanted to strangle you.’

I keep quiet, the pressure from both of them starting to get to me. Both Michael and Violet wait, matching expressions of suspicion staring at me. It suddenly hits me just how similar the two can be at times, the family resemblance is striking. ‘We were rivals.’ I admit, the words rushing out of me. ‘I was somewhat close to Cordelia’s mother before she died and Cordelia rose as Supreme. That was maybe the biggest offence I could commit in Cordelia’s eyes.’ My eyes drop to the table, ‘I know there are things I’m not opening up about regarding Robichaux.’ I say, ‘But everything I have done is to help you, Michael.’

‘Why?’ 

I take a breath, ‘Because despite what Cordelia thinks she knows, you are special.’ 

Michael and Violet exchange a look, ‘I know that.’ Michael says, a small smile back in place. ‘I’ve always known I was different.’ 

‘I just don’t want someone to poison you.’ I murmur, glancing towards Violet. 

She takes the hint, ‘I’ll go order some takeout or something.’ She excuses, practically running out of the dining room. 

Michael takes a seat as the atmosphere changes between us. His hand slides along the table and takes mine in his, ‘I’m not ungrateful.’ He begins, ‘Don’t accuse me of that.’

‘Sorry.’ I whisper, ‘I know you aren’t but…Michael I’ve…heard about the warlocks vendetta. If they see how powerful you are they will use you against us. Whatever if they turn you against me?’

Michael blinks, ‘You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?’

‘What?’

A sad smile blossoms across Michael’s face, ‘When I was still with Gra…with Constance she had this idea to read me Shakespeare. Something about making me smarter alongside the classical music thing.’ I watch him lose himself in the memory, ‘I always remember Romeo and Juliet because it was so beautifully tragic. I’ve always thought my life may turn out like something from a Shakespeare play.’

‘We are not Romeo and Juliet.’ My tone is firm, ‘Let’s get rid of that idea right now.’

‘We belong to different sides, Y/N.’ Michael murmurs, his hand still in mine. ‘You with the witches and I should be trained by the warlocks.’

‘The warlocks don’t know what I know.’

‘And what do you know?’ Michael’s eyes pierce mine. ‘You knew to save me, you knew exactly where I’d be and that you could bring me back.’ I keep quiet, ‘I feel your fear whenever I mention things like this.’ He continues, ‘Y/N, I cannot imagine spending my life without you. I’m used to sleeping beside you, hearing how your voice lifts when you scold me.’ He grins, ‘I like how your jealousy rises when I work for the neighbours.’ Michael’s fingers squeeze mine, ‘Whatever fate we have that ties us to each other, I will always back you. You have saved me time and time again. I can never thank you enough for that.’ His eyes glimmer, ‘Maybe it’s time to let me go.’

‘No!’

‘Well not go,’ Michael amends. ’But, let me try something for myself. I’ll never make mistakes if I don’t have the chance to try. Whether that’s at Hawthorne or facing this Cordelia woman or being away from you.’

I can feel the tears swimming in my eyes, ‘I can’t let you go.’

He smiles softly, ‘I didn’t think you cared about me beyond me being your project.’ He admits, ‘I was so guarded because no one ever just wants me for me.’

‘I do.’ I insist, ‘Michael, there are so many bad people in this world.’

‘I think I might be one of them.’ His voice is so faint I only just hear him.

The revelation of his words crashes over me like the swell of a tidal wave. Michael’s own self-awareness mirrors my own terror. I’ve sunk my claws into him and clutched him so tight I’ve suffocated him. 

I’m holding him back.

How can I expect Michael to grow into the man I love if he doesn’t have the experiences that made him who he was back in the Outpost? 

‘I don’t want us to become enemies.’ I say, ‘I don’t want to see you again and you look down your nose at me. I couldn’t take it.’

‘I love you.’ The words ghost over me and chill me to the bone. 

‘Don’t, Michael.’

‘I love you.’ He repeats it, firmer and stronger than the first time. Michael crosses over and kneels down before me, prostrating himself for my judgement. His blonde curls fall into his eyes as he looks hopefully up at me with those penetrating blue eyes. My hand can’t help but stroke his cheek, Michael leaning in to just rest his face against my palm. 

‘Hawthorne.’ I agree, feeling myself fill with trepidation. ‘If it’s what you really want...I won’t stop you.' 

Michael was on alert from the moment he heard Lucifer calling his name.

"Michael!" High and panicked, matched with the rhythm of his wings that Michael would know anywhere. "Michael!" Lucifer almost collided with him, but Michael turned and caught him instead. They still tumbled backwards, but Michael held onto his brother tightly until they'd stopped spinning. Lucifer was hyperventilating against his chest.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked. Lucifer's wings tucked themselves under his own. For all his panic, his feathers were settled, and Michael liked to think that was because of his presence.

"Gabriel," Lucifer said. Then he made a choking sound and hid his face in Michael's chest again. He shook, and Michael tried to soothe him. When his voice was steadier, Lucifer continued. "We were racing each other, and- I should have stopped him, Michael, I know I should have-"

"What happened?" Michael made his voice firmer. He tried to sound like their Father. He wasn't sure his impression was very good.

"We looped around one of the black holes. Gabriel dared me to fly closer, and then I dared him to beat my record, and it kept going until- Michael, he fell in! I couldn't grab him in time!" Lucifer's voice was anguished. Michael ducked his head to nuzzle against his little brother's hair. Lucifer and Gabriel were reckless, yes, and they made each other worse, but even they knew not to go near black holes. They weren't supposed to get close to anything The Darkness held dominion over. Especially not now. She and God were having another fight. (Michael wasn't sure they were ever not fighting about something these days. He was just glad he and Lucifer could never be like that.) He released Lucifer reluctantly, making sure to kiss his brother's forehead so that he'd know Michael wasn't upset with him. Gabriel needed help. He came first. Michael could scold them both later.

"Take me there." Lucifer nodded. He led the way quickly, darting through space like the light he was named for.

Michael heard the black hole long before they saw it. The hum made his grace vibrate in warning. Michael reacted to Her the same way, and maybe that was why, out of all of them, She tolerated him trailing after Her the least. Gabriel and Raphael, She let do as they wished. Lucifer, She even liked the company of at times. Michael had never been welcome in the same way. That was fine. His Father consoled him, gave him more duties to fulfill to keep his mind off of it. The hum grew louder and louder, and Michael steeled himself for Gabriel's sake. He had hoped when Lucifer said they were playing near a black hole, he meant one of the smaller ones. The imposing void before them disagreed. Michael caught up to Lucifer, halting him before either of them can fly too close. Even still, he could feel the gravitational pull dragging at his primaries. They were safely beyond the event horizon that ate planets whole. Lucifer peeked from behind his wing at the black hole and then up at Michael.

"Stay here," Michael ordered. Lucifer nodded. Without allowing himself to hesitate, Michael dove in closer. It was easy to move in, but the few moments he pulled back, he could feel how much more difficult it was getting. He struggled to flap his wings, but he kept moving in. "Gabriel!" he called. It was useless; Gabriel wouldn't be able to answer back, but if he could hear Michael in there somehow, know that his brother was coming to help him, maybe that would comfort him. Michael beat his wings harder, more and more of his energy going towards keeping himself from being dragged in. He flew closer. His wings ached with every drag, and he wasn't sure he could-

The rhythm of wings that Michael would know anywhere, behind him. Michael forgot everything he was doing, all his focus jumping to calling out to Lucifer to go back. Before he could even turn, though, he was shoved forwards by a sudden collision. Michael fell into the dark.

~~~

Lucifer was still laughing by the time Raphael and Gabriel arrived. Raphael first, wings practically buzzing they were flying so fast, and Gabriel next, grinning broadly at Lucifer. Lucifer whooped, ducking past Raphael to spin Gabriel around. "Good job running interference, little brother!" Gabriel joined in on his laughter, while Raphael looked at them both in horror.

"What are you talking about? Michael-" Lucifer bumped them with another wing.

"Is fine," he said. "It was all Gabriel's idea."

"Learned from the best," Gabriel said. Raphael was still frowning at them, and Lucifer stuck his hand in their closest wing, rucking the feathers up the wrong way on purpose until they shook it out of his grasp. Apparently, all that following around and emulating Michael had made them pretty good at replicating Michael's 'frustrated and disappointed' look, although on Raphael, Lucifer found it much more adorable than annoying.

"You pushed him in!" they accused. Lucifer flicked a wing dismissively.

"That was the whole point," Gabriel said. "I distract you so that you and Michael can't work together to think of a more reasonable response than a one-angel rescue mission" — Lucifer really was so proud of him. And Michael would be, too, once he got over being pranked — "and Lucifer gives Michael the sob story we cooked up to lure him in. Then-" Gabriel mimed a shove. Lucifer couldn't contain another laugh. He'd almost ruined the whole thing from the start by breaking character when Michael was asking him what was wrong. Luckily, Michael didn't see through the act. He'd looked so surprised when Lucifer pushed him in.

"And what if he's stuck now? Really stuck?" Raphael demanded. They sounded genuinely worried, and Lucifer did his best to stifle his laughter. He laid his wing over theirs, drew the one he'd gotten messy close to him. Raphael tried to shake him off again, but he ignored them and started combing their feathers back in place.

"Michael's fine. He'll come barrelling out any minute now," he said, completely sure of himself. It wasn't like anything could ever hurt Michael. The idea was impossible for Lucifer to fathom. It was Michael. Raphael begrudgingly settled down.

They waited.

And they kept waiting.

Gabriel started getting nervous first, to Lucifer's surprise.

"Luci-" he started.

"He's coming," Lucifer interrupted him. "He probably waited this long to get out to get back at us and make us worry." Gabriel relaxed, trusting him.

They kept waiting.

"Luci..." Gabriel said again, anxiety creeping back into his voice. Raphael was starting to tense under Lucifer's hands, too. Their feathers were fluffing up. Lucifer's own were beginning to mirror that, and he tried in vain to get that automatic response under control. Michael was- He was playing a prank in return. That was all. He was going to come out. Lucifer stared at the wide tear in space, listening to the constant growl of it. He focused, trying to hear the reverberation of Michael's grace underneath it. Lucifer could always hear him, no matter how far apart they were.

He couldn't now.

He sprung forward, far enough to feel the pull of gravity on his own feathers, and shouted, "Michael! This isn't funny!" No response. "It was a joke, Michael! Come out right now! You're scaring our little siblings!" The shake in his voice admitted that it wasn't just them, either. Nothing came from the black hole, no sign of Michael anywhere. Lucifer turned back to Gabriel and Raphael. They were huddled together, shining twin eyes gazing up at him, looking for an answer or a plan, and Lucifer didn't have one. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Lucifer's first thought was to ask Michael what to do.

Gabriel and Raphael were still staring at him. He couldn't tell which of them had started shaking, if it wasn't both of them.

"We'll get him out," Lucifer said. He looked back at the black hole and then at his siblings again. "We'll get him out," he repeated, forcing confidence into his voice.

"I think we should get Dad," Gabriel said, quietly.

"No, we can do this ourselves. We-" Michael hadn't been able to pull himself out. What if Lucifer couldn't either?

No, he would. But...

"Raphael, stay here, and if we need help, then you go get Dad." Raphael nodded. Gabriel disentangled himself from them, clasped hands the last things to come apart. Raphael's lingered where Gabriel's had been for a moment before they pulled it back. Gabriel stood in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer could see now that it had been him shaking.

"We'll pull him out," Lucifer reassured. "Don't worry. He'll be reprimanding us in no time." He knew Gabriel would believe him. That Gabriel would follow him, circling the black hole as though they could find a weak point to break through. Lucifer could feel the same difficulty flying around it as Michael must have. He could hear Gabriel close behind him at all times as they wove closer and closer. He beat his wings harder, but he still had strength to spare. Michael had gotten closer than this. He had, too, though he'd used the momentum of pushing Michael to break free again that time. He went closer, forgetting for a moment that Gabriel would be only a wingbeat behind.

And Gabriel was younger, and not as strong a flier, and when he found he couldn't break free of the gravity of the black hole, he began to panic. He beat his wings frantically. It was no use. Lucifer saw Gabriel get dragged past him, flailing wildly to break a grip neither of them could see. Lucifer didn't even hesitate to plunge in after him. The void yawned open before them, hungry enough to swallow two more archangels whole. Lucifer reached for Gabriel. He missed. He knew that in a few more seconds, he wouldn't be able to pull himself free of the black hole's gravity, let alone himself and Gabriel. He couldn't let Gabriel fall in, too. Lucifer grabbed at him one last time. His hands slid through Gabriel's fluffy feathers, unable to find a grip. Then, at the wrist of his wing, Lucifer managed to hold on. Gabriel kept fighting, unable to tell that Lucifer was helping him escape, but with heavy beats of his own wings, Lucifer was able to drag them both back. Each movement was exhausting, made worse by having to carry Gabriel back, but Lucifer never let him go.

When they were a safe distance away again, (they failed, Lucifer thought, they failed) Lucifer noticed that Raphael was nowhere to be seen. For a horrible moment, he thought they might have followed him and Gabriel in when they saw Gabriel struggling, and that they'd fallen in without him even seeing it happen. He calmed himself by making sure Gabriel wasn't hurt — messy feathers aside, he was fine — until he could think straight. Raphael wouldn't have jumped into danger like that. They would have gone for help. Would have gone to get-

He was here.

Raphael had come back with Him, and they came to roost beside their brothers. They batted Lucifer's hands away from Gabriel. He gave them space. Raphael might have been younger, but they were already a better healer than him. Not that that was saying much. Lucifer was best at making messes.

God went past them, and Lucifer only looked at his back, at the black hole, once before he forced his eyes back to Gabriel.

The three of them waited.

They stood when God approached again, soldiers in a line.

God had carried Michael back among them, and He set him down beside Raphael. Michael looked terrible. His wings, held tightly against his back, were in shambles, feathers bent and disorderly, more than a few missing completely. He held himself stiffly under their Father’s gaze, as he inspected Michael for any serious injury Himself. Raphael's wings twitched, but they didn't speak up to offer their assistance. After a moment, their Father stepped back to look at all four of them. Gabriel’s wings trembled, and Lucifer extended his own to cover them without dropping his Father’s gaze.

“Whose fault is this?” He asked. Raphael looked at Michael, but he didn’t look back, keeping his eyes on their Father. He waited, and the four of them said nothing. “I asked you a question.” Gabriel shrunk further back under Lucifer’s wing. Raphael kind of looked like they wanted to do the same, or to retreat behind Michael, but they were too far away.

It had been Gabriel’s plan. Strictly speaking, he should be the one their father disciplined.

But he’d already paid the price for it, in Lucifer’s eyes. He was terrified he’d actually gotten Michael hurt. He’d nearly gotten sucked in himself trying to get Michael out. His wings were still shaking, upsetting the feathers on the underside of Lucifer’s wing, but Lucifer didn’t move. He was older, he was their Dad's favorite, and he’d gotten in trouble more times than Gabriel had before his little brother even existed. He could weather any punishment doled out.

“I wa-“ Lucifer started.

“Lucifer warned me not to get too close.” Michael interrupted. He met Lucifer’s eyes. Lucifer shut up.

“Did he?” Their Father pressed. “Michael, if something happened…”

“I made a mistake.” Michael stood his ground. “My siblings tried to help me.”

“Gabriel and Lucifer did try to pull him out,” Raphael said, to bolster Michael’s lie with truth. Lucifer was equal parts surprised and proud. “I told them it was a bad idea, but they tried anyway.”

“You’re lucky neither of you got trapped as well,” their Father said, “and that if you did, Raphael had the sense to stay behind.” Raphael smiled a little. Their Dad sighed and managed to give the impression of rubbing the bridge of His nose in frustration without actually doing it. “And you’re sure that’s all that happened, Michael?”

“Yes.”

God looked over them all, one by one. Lucifer still refused to look down. Raphael did. Gabriel hadn’t met His eyes the entire time. Michael did look away, briefly, but he turned his gaze back, standing up straighter. There was no doubt in Lucifer’s mind that their Father didn’t believe a word they’d said.

“Alright,” he said. “Don’t play near the black holes again, my children.” There was a chorus of yes, Lord’s from all four of them. He glanced over them again, sighed louder this time, in a way that Lucifer thought might be purposefully dramatic, and left. Gabriel finally peeked up.

“Are we not in trouble?” He asked. Lucifer tilted his head at Michael in question.

“You lied to God’s face.” He felt the need to state, in case Michael didn’t realize what he'd just done. Michael’s wings flapped once, and he grimaced, like the movement hurt with his feathers so crooked.

“I did not.” He argued. “I said I made a mistake, and I did. I believed for a minute that you could think about anything other than mischief.” His voice was lighter than Lucifer had expected. Raphael snorted a quiet laugh, and Lucifer understood Michael’s game. Lucifer scowled at him. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Well, I suddenly can’t remember how to groom your wings,” Lucifer retorted. “After all, if all my knowledge is solely devoted to mischief-“

“I imagine it takes up a lot of space, Lu,” Michael said with joking condescension, for the most part. He only ever called Lucifer that when he was upset, and despite them playing up the argument to entertain their little siblings, Lucifer felt a twinge of guilt. “And with a mind as small as yours…” Michael was cut off by Gabriel starting to giggle. Raphael joined in a few seconds later. It felt more like a release of nervous tension than anything. Lucifer huffed, feathers puffing up in what he could play as annoyance, but was more fueled by the way Michael's smile dimmed when Gabriel and Raphael weren't looking.

~~~

Michael winced again as he tried to fix his wings. He couldn't get the angle right to do this without pain. He was pretty sure some of the feathers he was trying to salvage couldn't be, but the thought of pulling them out all by himself in his nest made him want to curl up and ignore the ache as best he could instead. At least it kept his mind away from the dark. He shivered. On the outside, it had been so loud that his grace rattled, but inside, it was like someone swallowed up all the sound, even his own calls for his brother. There had been no way out, only constant crushing pressure, and him, battered around at the center. No angel was meant to be in a place like that. He'd clung to his Dad for the first time since he was a fledgling when He came for him, shining merciful light down on Michael and scooping him up in his arms.

(Michael wondered if his Dad ever missed that, the way Michael sometimes missed having to carry Lucifer through the stars, long before he was old enough to fly between them on his own.)

Michael tugged on another feather and stifled a whimper. He wasn't really hurt. If he was, God would have healed him.

There was a familiar beat of wings behind him. One Michael would know anywhere. It stopped before it came to close, giving Michael time to turn and address his brother.

"I..." Lucifer trailed off. He'd looked so bold before their Father today. Now, he only looked like Michael's little brother. The one he'd raised. The one who should never feel unwelcome in Michael's nest. But Lucifer was hesitating now. Michael tried to stretch his wings to greet him, but a shock of pain made him recoil instead. "Michael?"

"I'm not hurt," Michael said aloud, echoing his earlier thoughts, "or God would-"

"He was distracted," Lucifer interrupted with casual blasphemy. Michael let it slide. Lucifer came closer. When Michael didn't do... whatever he was expecting, he let himself into Michael's nest. A few of Lucifer's feathers made up the nest's decorations, the cast off down of a fledgling and full-grown quills. (Raphael and Gabriel's were there, too, though far less numerous than Lucifer's.) Lucifer reached for the nearest of Michael's wings, and Michael shut his eyes, waiting for more pain. It never came. He felt Lucifer's expert touch comb through his feathers, able to right them better than Michael could alone. He started by ordering Michael's primaries, until most of them flared out straight and perfect, but soon, he was petting along the whole of Michael's wing.

Michael's eyes were still shut, though now from relaxation rather than a futile attempt to avoid pain, when Lucifer said, quietly, "are you angry with me?"

Michael considered that.

"Exasperated," he said, "but not angry." Some of his feathers still ached. Michael knew they had to be plucked. He wasn't looking forward to it. Not even Lucifer could make that painless.

"I'm only 'Lu' when you're angry." Michael chanced flicking him with a wing. It hurt, but it was worth it. "Ow!"

"We were acting," Michael teased. "I don't think you're only made of mischief either."

"No, but you might be," Lucifer grumbled. Michael hugged him.

"I could never be angry at you, starlight," he said, the softness of a different nickname causing Lucifer to melt into the hug. Lucifer had the warmth of the stars in his grace, too, or maybe he was that lovely a reflection of God's love. (And maybe, Michael's secret proud heart said, a reflection of his as well.)

Michael had lied to God for him today. It didn't sit easily in his grace. He tried to reassure himself that it was only a small thing, that their Father hadn't even been that upset. He would have called Michael's bluff if He was. Still... Michael bumped his head against Lucifer's.

"Don't ask me to do that again."

"Do what?"

"Choose you over our Father." Lucifer hummed.

"Alright," he agreed, "but only because now I know you'd pick me."

Those words filled Michael with a fear he could not name. His small disobedience today had shaken him so badly that he knew he could never do it again, not even for his brother.

"Promise me?"

"Yes. Promise. Can I go back to grooming your wings now?" Michael let him go. Lucifer kept preening him, and Michael tried his best to let his discomfort fade away.

It wasn't long before they heard the flurry of more wings, so close together that Michael couldn't have picked them out if he tried. Raphael and Gabriel never looked more like twin creations than in flight, and even when they landed a little ways away from Michael's nest, they were almost on top of each other.

"I told you so," they both said to the other. Lucifer laughed. Gabriel pointed at him. "No, I did, he's here."

"And I'm right, too. Michael's wings got damaged. I could tell." Raphael looked at Michael, putting on a more professional voice. "I'm going to heal you."

"I'm sure you will." Raphael's professionalism needed work. It broke under a smile. Soon, their younger siblings were clambering for room in the nest as well. Michael waited for Raphael to begin plucking his feathers, but instead, he felt their grace very meticulously seeking out Michael's injuries. He shouldn't be surprised anymore that when Raphael meant to heal, they aspired to do as their Father would, to regrow and soothe each broken feather. It was harder work than they anticipated, and though they got through most of the damage, they had to stop. Lucifer rubbed their back, his hand trailing into their wing. "That's enough," Michael said. "You don't have to do any more."

"I do," Raphael insisted. "This wouldn't have happened if I was with you-"

"Hey! That's my fault!" Gabriel butted in.

"He's right," Lucifer said.

"See? Lucifer says-" Gabriel turned on his brother. "You're not supposed to agree!"

"...You admitted to it?"

"You're supposed to tell us neither of us did anything wrong!"

"No, Lucifer's right. This is definitely your fault." Michael said, nodding. He kept up the act until he actually saw Gabriel look worried, and then he pulled him close. "But you're forgiven." Gabriel loved cuddling even more than Lucifer did, and once Michael had his arms full, he knew he wouldn't be leaving the nest anytime soon. Which gave Raphael ample opportunity to pluck a feather. Michael grunted in pain, but Gabriel nuzzled into him and Lucifer pet his other wing. The second pluck wasn't as bad. The third one hurt even less. The last one was negligible, and when Raphael finished putting the pulled feathers to the side, Michael opened his arms again and they fit into the space opposite their twin.

"No room left for me, as usual." There was the smallest flash of jealousy across Lucifer's face. Michael was well aware of it. Of course Lucifer loved their siblings, but he had gotten very used to being Michael's only little brother. He wasn't good at sharing.

"There's always room," Michael said. He shifted the younger angels around to give Lucifer a spot.

Michael hoped it stayed like this forever.

‘What do you think about all this?’ Violet rounds on Tate, her eyes eager for support. 

Tate hesitates, ‘Your parents make a point, Violet.’ 

She staggers away from him, ‘After everything you’ve done?’

‘That’s why I’m saying it.’ Tate says, pushing away from his place by the pasta arm. ‘This house made me do awful shit. I don’t want Michael going down the same path.’ 

Violet looks to all of us, before finally she stares at me. I don’t meet her eyes because I don’t know what I can say. The decision has been made for me, despite Michael’s valiant efforts. 

All that good behaviour for nothing. 

Violet speaks to all of us, but the emphasis is meant for me, ’Fuck all of you. I’m going to see if he’s okay.’ 

She leaves the room without another word, her footsteps echoing up the stairs as she goes. No one speaks for a while, even when Moira pops into the kitchen and starts washing the blood off the knife. She slots it back with the rest of the set and leaves again with just a small smile towards Vivian. 

I can feel disappointment curling in me like bitter smoke. I worked so hard to help Michael. To give him the life he craves with his family. I swallow and down with it goes my lingering whisps of resentment. I could have stopped Constance. I’m a fucking witch. Michael shouldn’t have stepped in. He didn’t need to.

‘I’m sorry it has to be this way.’ Vivian rests her hand over mine, ‘I know you only have his best interests at heart.’ 

‘You can’t reconsider?’

Vivian shakes her head, ‘Personally, I hate the bitch. Once I was dead Constance told me all about some cupcake plan she had. Blames me and Violet for her daughter wanting to be pretty, some bullshit.’ Vivian heaves a deep sigh. Her usually serene expression wrinkles and the blemishes of age just creep in for a moment. ‘My concern is for my son.’

‘We want him to grow up away from this house.’ Ben curls his arm round his wife’s shoulders, ‘He shouldn’t have us lingering over him, drawing him back to the past. He needs to move on.’

Ben Harmon, for once in his psychiatric career has given some good advice.

‘You both deserve to.’ It’s Tate who finishes it off, before disappearing. 

‘Gone to see Violet, no doubt.’ Ben sighs and then the moment is broken. 

Vivian nods, ‘I need to check on Jeffrey. It’s been…ages.’ She smiles at the realisation, ‘Peaceful.’ 

‘I’ll go to Michael, then.’ I offer weakly. 

They both ignore me, or simply don’t hear. Ben and Vivian head straight for their baby, answering the cries that swell up from the basement. 

As I climb the stairs, the chill of lightly quelled rage hits me again. 

How dare she.

How fucking dare she? 

I want to exonerate Constance’s soul myself. In that moment I wish Michael knew he could melt people’s souls, banish them forever. I want Constance Langdon stripped from the fabric of this timeline, from this world. 

I take a wrong footing and stumble. It’s enough to bring me out of my thoughts. The chill hasn’t quite left me, but somehow I feel lighter. 

Dread courses down my spine. 

It’s the house. 

Sentient and alive, encoring all my most grievous and sinister thoughts. It urges me to act on them, to hunt for blood. 

To kill. 

‘MICHAEL!’ I’m running now, my feet thundering up the stairs. I tear down the landing to Ben and Vivians’ room when Violet, Tate and Michael appear in the doorway. I just catch myself before I run into them. ‘Sorry.’

‘We thought she was back.’ Violet says, ‘What has you so freaked now?’

I did make a mistake. 

Maybe there is no way in any timeline that Michael can be happy with his real family. The house will always corrupt him, unless I get him out.

For good. 

‘We need to leave, Michael.’ 

The boy’s eyes widen, ‘What…no! No we just got here!’ 

‘I know baby, now we need to go.’ 

‘NO!’ Michael looks outraged, ‘I did it to protect you. I saved you, you have to see that!’

Violet and Tate disappear and I don’t blame them. I take Michael’s face in my hands, urging him to look at me, ‘I know you did. Thank you so much Michael, but now we need to get you out of this house. I need to keep you safe.’

‘I can keep myself plenty safe.’ He retorts, pushing away from me and back into the room.

‘Michael, please.’

‘I’m staying here.’ He sits down on the bed, ‘I want to see my Mom and Dad.’ 

I walk towards the bed, my approach cautious. ‘They are worried about the effect of this house on you.’

‘Don’t care.’

‘Michael.’ My voice snaps and Michael’s eyes jump to me. It’s rare I get truly angry with him, ‘I appreciate what you did for me back there, but that doesn’t mean you have the entire say on what we do. Your parents and I have discussed-’

‘Oh so now you’re any surrogate Mom again?’ There’s a glint in his eye, a warning. ‘And here I thought you were warming up to me with that kiss.’ 

For a moment I’m stunned. Too speechless he would bring that up at this moment. 

‘So it did…mean something?’ The tough act falters, Michael’s voice lilts up at the end. 

He’s…hopeful. 

‘What do you want to do?’ I sit down beside him, ‘You want to stay in a house with the ghost of your Grandma? She could try and kill us-‘ 

‘I know Ben and Vivian want me gone.’ 

He’s rendered me speechless again.

‘They…don’t.’

‘Violet told me.’ Michael’s nose twitches, fighting back a sniffle. ‘I know it was wrong to murder her. I know that. But I…don’t wanna lose them.’ 

I pull him to me, Michael’s head falling against my chest. ‘You won’t ever lose them. They’re always going to be with you.’ I find myself clinging to Ben’s words, ‘But you’re never going to grow if you stay stuck here with them. You understand that, right?’

When Michael pulls away my shirt is sticky with blood. Constance’s blood. I fight down the urge to vomit as I wait for Michael’s answer. He considers my words, head tilted to the side like a puppy. He leaves us in silence for a very long time, his eyes taking in every inch of the room. ‘Tonight.’ He proposes, ‘I want to stay tonight and I want them to come visit us every Halloween.’

I smile at the idea, no doubt Tate’s idea, ‘Deal.’ 

                                                      ⏱⏱⏱

We skip dinner, Michael seems to just collapse on the bed as if all his energy is spent. I fetch two shirts from Violet’s room, based on the punk rock bands they both belong to Tate. I turn round and pull my top off, slipping on the borrowed one. I slide my arms inside and undo my bra, pulling it through and arm and then off. I can feel Michael watching me the entire time. When I turn back and approach the bed I can see he’s kicked off his jeans and shirt, he’s lying there in only his boxers on top of the covers. 

My eyes fall to the shirt dumped on the floor and he answers before I can, ‘Too hot in here.’ 

I let it go tonight. I climb into bed and rub my face as the days trauma crashes over me. My back aches fiercely and I have to tell my jaw to relax itself, to stop my shoulders hunching as I sink into the bed and roll onto my side. I am very aware I’m lying in bed in only a thin top and my knickers. 

I count. 

One, two, three. 

Michael presses himself against my back. His arm falls on top, protective and strong. I can see the faint outline of muscle in his arm, probably from mowing the lawns of our nosy neighbours for extra money. His breath falls in tiny puffs on the back of my neck, warm and tingling as goosebumps arise and my skin sings from the amount of contact we have. 

Anticipation wafts around us both as I tangle my legs with his and close my eyes. 

We wait for ten minutes like that, me counting every second to see if Michael is asleep. To hear the telltale sign of a snore, a snuffle or even breathing. 

I turn back over, and Michael’s too close. My nose bumps against his and I can’t even really see his beautiful eyes anymore. It’s dark, but I can feel every inch of him against me, his hard angles and soft stomach as my hand runs up before I can stop it. My fingers slide up naked flesh, up his chest between his pecs and push some of his hair behind his ear. 

He presses his lips against mine, arms pulling me closer. Every atom in my body sings as Michael takes his fill of me, drinking in everything I give him as together we take one steady breath. Our lips are back on each other’s half a second later, Michael’s hands secure against my back. 

I couldn’t escape him even if I wanted to.

And why the hell would I ever want to?

‘Goodnight,’ He whispers, breathing mingling with mine when we break apart again. He keeps his arms where they are, close around my body as his eyes slip shut. It’s intimate and gentle as I feel Michael’s arms relax as sleep finally takes him.

I don’t want to move. I want to bask in him and keep him as close to me as I can. Shield him from this house of evil and keep him firmly in the light.

I still can. 

Sleep drags my eyes shut, my being grows heavier. ‘Please be here when I wake up,’ I whisper, ‘Don’t go anywhere. Stay right here with me.’

I don’t expect him to answer, but a blue eye creaks open again, ‘Forever.’ 

It’s the creaking of a floorboard, right by my side of the bed and the opening of a drawer that jolts me awake. I roll out of Michael’s arms and come face to face with Chad. 

His mouth twists with a smirk, ‘Guess I win the bet. You are fucking him.’

’No.’ I stammer, feeling myself heating up. 

Chad chuckles, ‘Okay Princess, you can live in your little world of denial. Just remember how old he is, yeah?’ 

‘Why are you here?’ 

He holds up a letter, ‘Delivery boy. Sadly my life has wound up with doing the Harmon’s dirty work.’ 

‘It’s from Vivian and Ben?’ 

I reach for the letter, but Chad slaps my hand away. ‘Not for you.’ His eyebrows raise, Chad tilting his head towards the other side of the bed. ‘For him and it’s private. Keep your nose out.’ 

He disappears before I can ask anything else. I lie back on my pillow, but sleep won’t come to me. Curiosity burns within me, wondering what on earth is so private it must be written down. 

Why I’m not allowed to know.

Is it…about me? 

Michael lets out a soft moan, his hand feeling along the covers. I catch his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze and he settles. 

He is so fucking young. 

When I look up again Violet is there, just watching from the doorframe. ’Chad came down bragging about how he freaked you out.’ She whispers, sitting cross-legged before me. ‘Came up to check you weren’t already grabbing your stuff.’ 

‘It wasn’t nice to wake up to.’ I admit and Violet smiles.

‘Dramatic asshole.’ I will miss Violet’s humour, probably more than anything else in this house. ‘It’s not about you.’ She adds, catching my eye-line. ‘The letter, it’s just words of wisdom I think. Memories and stories, family lineage stuff. So he can pass it on when he’s old enough.’ Violet’s becoming lost in thought, ‘Dad’s idea. Carry on the legacy and all that alpha need to procreate bullshit.’ 

‘I don’t think you’re quite on the money there, but I get you.’ 

She hesitates, Violet’s eyes jump to Michael, and then to the open door. ‘Will you…come with me?’ 

I feel compelled to help her, and not due to the house. I slide out of bed and put the pillow close for Michael, his arms coil around it and for a second I feel bad for it. For how tight he clings onto it, as if he wants to smother all the life from it. I follow Violet downstairs and outside, it’s then I realise where we are going. 

‘Violet-’

‘I have to know if it’s possible.’ She insists, opening up the crawlspace. ‘Please, I’m begging you.’ 

Her eyes are big, round brown orbs that penetrate me. I do not want to see what she wants to show me. 

‘There aren’t…anymore things in there-‘ 

‘I cleared it out.’ Violet grimaces, ‘If it’s my final resting place then…I wanted to make it somewhere…nice.’ 

It’s macabre, but somehow I understand her. I go first, Violet closing the door behind us and we’re plunged into darkness. Shivers creep up my spine as I crawl, trying to convince myself this is a perfectly normal thing to be doing. I can’t see a thing, it’s pure black as we crawl. The only sound I can hear is Violet thudding along behind me. 

‘It’s just ahead.’ She calls and I nod, despite knowing Violet won’t be able to see it. 

Finally, we emerge into a wide space. I get to my feet and make room for Violet who takes my hand in hers. There’s a glow up ahead, yellow as we cautiously approach. 

Violet rests below us. Her body is bent, resting on top of a single old mattress. Her eyes have almost disappeared only flecks of eyeballs left in her current state of decomposition. Candles have been set around her, bathing the place in flickering light. Her head rests on an old pink pillow. 

‘It smells of…flowers.’ I wrinkle my nose at the overwhelming smell. 

‘Plugged in five of those room fresheners I got last Halloween.’ Violet explains, jumping down to approach her own body. ‘I knew you’d throw up if I didn’t have them on.’ I feel the urge to vomit still. The sight before me burned into my memories, ‘I know no one should ever have to see this.’ Violet carries on, ‘But…please. I need to know.’ 

I inch my way closer, pressing my lips together. There’s a zap from above us that makes me jump a mile into the air, ‘Shit.’ Violet curses, ‘Forgot about the bug zapper.’

‘What the fuck!’ I can’t hold it back any longer.

‘Gotta stop the flies somehow.’ I turn back round, ready to go back to Michael. I’d rather take the house over this. ‘No please!’ Violet’s voice catches, ‘You’re a good witch. I know you are and you’re crazy powerful. Please, just do a spell. Tell me if you can.’ 

I thrust my hand out, stepping closer and closer but I keep my eyes shut. Violet lets me, I think she believes I’m focusing but it’s more to block out the sight before me. A vibration tickles my fingers, like someone is lifting them upwards. It’s warm as the sensation trickles up my arm and along my synapses. 

‘I think…we have to bury you.’ I explain, opening my eyes. ‘Somewhere away from the house to free you.’ 

’No, Tate would never let us leave with me.’  

I take in just how desperate she is, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. ‘I…don’t think I can do it any other way. That’s just…how it goes.’ 

‘No please you have to try.’ Violet insists, ‘I’m the only person who has their literal body here. It wasn’t take by the cops or buried somewhere. I’m still…..flesh there has to be something different. Like how you brought Michael back.’ 

I hold my breath as I suck up my courage and approach the head. ‘What will your family think, if I do this?’

‘They want what is best for me.’ Violet insists, ‘I won’t be dead anymore, I’ll be alive. Tate’s good with that but, we want to still be able to see each other.’ 

‘You should leave and never come back.’ I tell her, ‘Do not stay here, get out of LA.’

A smile graces Violet’s lips, ‘So it is possible?’

I bend over the corpse, cup my hand against the side of my mouth and focus. I think about Violet Harmon, about the spirit before me, melding back with her body. Of healing and rejuvenation and restoration. I can feel my energy sapping as I connect with her and whisper the words into her body, ‘Vitalum Vitalis.’

Violet surges upwards, she coughs and gags and I slap her hard on the back. She spits out a wad of congealed spit and blood as two white pills shoot out of her mouth. She convulses before me and I take a good step back, her bones twitching spider-like as colour returns to her body. Eyeballs re-grow where they should be, doe-eyed brown appearing amongst the white. 

I don’t approach her as Violet heaves air in and out of her lungs. My eyes rove around the crawlspace but there is only one Violet before me.  

‘Holy fucking shit!’ Violet whispers, her hands running down her body and through her newly grown hair. She turns to me and she too has that same expression Michael wore. 

She looks at me as if I’m God. 

‘Glad I could help.’ I murmur, fighting back a yawn as a wave of exhaustion hits me. 

Violet gets steadily to her feet, still spitting stuff out of her mouth. ‘You okay?’

‘Tired.’ I offer, pushing my hair out of my face. ‘Didn’t expect to be doing this today. Or that it would work.’

Violet grins, ‘But it did. I’m back.’ She too looks round for another trace of herself, ‘I’m really fucking back!’ 

The candles extinguish in one fell sweep. The room plunges into a icy cold and then there’s the sound of footsteps approaching. Someone crawling towards us. 

‘Move.’ I order, ‘Now. How can we get out of here?’ 

Violet runs to the crawlspace where we came from, ‘It’s the only exit.’

‘Something is coming that way.’ I tell her, ’Something or someone is pissed at us. At me.’ 

It’s the house. Furious I dared to disobey its rules. 

Violet hoists herself up and bends over to give me her hand. Seeing no other option I take it and boost myself up. A man stands before us, clad in a suit of rubber. ‘Oh fuck off!’ Violet screams, ‘Don’t you dare!’ 

‘She needs to die.’ 

The man brandishes a knife and I act on instinct at once, the Rubber-man struggles against his own compulsion as I turn the knife back on himself. He holds the knife to his throat, the blade wavering dangerously. ‘It’s strong.’ I bite back, ‘I won’t hold him for long.’ 

Violet rips the knife out of the Rubber-man’s hand and brandishes it at them. ‘Show yourself!’ 

The Rubber-man stands there, still held under my grip. He makes no attempt to remove his mask, ‘DO IT.’ I urge, pushing more magic into my concilium. 

‘Fuck this.’ Violet moves before I can stop her, she sinks the knife into the man’s chest and he bellows in agony. 

‘VIOLET!’ I bellow, my fears spiking as I surge forwards and rip the mask off the Rubber-man. 

It’s a guy I don’t know. Tanned skin, longish hair and some stubble. His necklaces jingle as he stares from me to Violet, blood seeping from his stab wound. 

Whoever he is, he isn’t Michael and for that I’m relieved. 

‘Travis.’ Violet tugs the knife out of his chest, ‘What the fuck?’

‘You what the fuck?’ Travis thunders back, ‘You just stabbed me, crazy bitch.’ 

‘You attacked us!’ Violet insists, she signals for me to move and I obey her at once. I take off down the crawlspace as fast as I can. Violet follows just behind me and when we’re both out of that hellhole I lock the door, sealing Travis inside.

‘He collapsed from the injury.’ Violet says, wiping the knife on her cardigan. 

’So what he’s already dead.’ My voice pitches as my fear spills out, ‘He’ll just come back or the house will send someone else to kill us.’ 

Violet blinks, ‘The…house?’

‘What’s going on?’ 

Ben and Vivian have appeared, they stare at me and Violet as Tate too appears. 

‘Travis attacked us-‘ Violet begins.

‘No the house attacked us.’ I can see Michael hovering just behind Ben, ‘It knew we were meddling and decided to try and stop us.’ 

‘See I told you guys.’ Tate nearly does a fist punch in the air, ‘This house is fucked. It made me do all the evil shit it wasn’t me.’ 

‘That’s why we have to go, now.’ I say, keeping my eyes on Michael. 

He bows his head in defeat and that’s all I need to start marching towards the front gate. I take Michael’s hand, pulling him along with me. He doesn’t say a word, simply lets me take him to the car and put him in the passenger seat. 

When I turn back, Violet is on the cusp of the house. She stands just inside the gate, staring out at the road and our car. Her freedom within her clutches at long last. 

‘She’s back.’ Michael breathes, ‘That’s where you went. You brought her back.’

I nod, my eyes trained on Violet. I can’t hear anything from where I stand, the car-door open as Ben and Vivian approach their daughter. They pull her into their arms and hold her tight, I’m sure Vivian is crying as they let go. Tate takes a step forwards and then stops himself. 

I turn away, it isn’t my business to watch as I turn back to Michael. ‘You okay?’

‘Woke up and you’d gone.’ He gulps, ‘I thought… thought you’d left without me.’ 

I sit in the driver’s seat and reach across to take his hand, ‘I wouldn’t ever do that, okay?’ 

Michael nods, ‘I’m starting to learn.’ 

He sends me a soft smile, ‘And I still get Halloween here.’ 

I don’t answer that, when I turn back Violet has crossed the road and is walking round the car. She sits in the backseat, ‘Can I stay with you guys?’ She asks, ‘Till I can get a job?’

‘Sure.’ I answer immediately, as Michael stares at his half-sister. 

‘You’re coming with?’ 

Violet nods, ‘Y/N right, I can’t stay in that house. I’ve got a second chance too, not about to ruin it.’ 

I turn on the engine, and accelerate. I don’t look back, but  Michael and Violet crane their necks to get one last glimpse of their family. I feel like some kind of child-napper, stealing them away even if it is for their own good. There’s complete silence on the drive home, no one knowing exactly what to say. 

Naturally, it’s Violet who breaks it. ‘I still can’t believe Travis tried to kill us. Fucking Travis! He was always cool.’

‘Not him,’ I remind her, ‘The house.’

‘Yeah yeah.’ Violet sulks, leaning back in her seat.

‘Who’s Travis?’ Michael pipes up. 

Violet smirks, meeting Michael’s eyes through the rear-view mirror. ’You’re Grandma’s ex-boyfriend.’

‘Ew.’ Michael mutters, his face one of disgust. I laugh before I can help myself and it breaks the tension as Michael launches into telling Violet about the neighbours and how he does the taxes. His eyes dance with pride as he boasts of finishing Mrs Water’s accounts in under an hour. Violet’s eyes are glazing over but she does her best to nod along at the appropriate moments. 

I fill the time thanking my lucky stars. Michael may not have got exactly what he wanted, but he’s earned a sister. That’s probably the best result that could have come from everything. Violet’s already hatching plans to attend a boarding school and finish her education. ‘I’ve been dead for what, four years? So that means my mind is like nineteen while my body is still fifteen. So I’ve got mad brain-power and will ace all my SAT’s and easily get into whatever college I want-’

But as I pull into the driveway, I can no longer process a single word from Violet or Michael. The sun just creaks over the houses, illuminating the front lawn in patches of sunlight. Our refuge beckons us forwards, inviting and picturesque if it wasn’t for the woman standing on the front step. Her blonde hair is down, shining in the sunlight. Today she wears Louboutins, worn only for special occasions as she turns to face the car. Her expression is hidden behind black sunglasses and a wide hat. 

‘Wait in the car.’ I order Michael and Violet as I step out. If I had to choose a moment for face her, I would never in my craziest dreams have picked now. Perhaps it’s the surge of adrenaline from Travis’ attack, maybe it’s the magic that flows stronger through my veins than ever. It could be the responsibility of the two people in my car whose lives I’d put before my very own that makes me walk right up to Cordelia Goode and tilt my head up to look her in the eyes. 

Her crisp white blouse ripples in the wind, Cordelia’s arms are folded in front of each other. She makes no movement but a small smile at my display of fortitude as she blesses me with a shrewd smile. ‘Well, someone certainly has been busy.’ 

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