Post by Cassiel on Mar 1, 2016 8:35:27 GMT
MICHAEL--
It had often been touted as the world’s greatest railway journey. Not only was it renowned as being the longest, but it spanned seven time zones in its entirety and covered a wide variety of terrain from steppe to desert; from mountain to forest. The entirety of the trip was around six days. Over nine if one continued on from Vladivostok to North Korea.
There were other choices he could have made as well. Moscow to Beijing also took six nights and was said to be an interesting ride as well. However, the route to Vladivostok had been the one he had taken.
The choice seemed usual enough. It was a common choice at a natural stopping point where many people tended to ride the line to. But the choice was also purposeful. Sure. There was much easier ways for an Archangel to travel, but Michael was on the train for a reason. Sure. Perhaps he was trying to understand humanity better. Trying to understand things from their point of view.
Trying to understand what it mean to truly just live for once, instead of following some plan. Instead of just following orders without giving any real thought to action or words.
It was…
….well, it was an experience of sorts, that was for sure. How could humanity stand this? All the waiting. The long lines. The long journeys. There was no instantly showing up in a location. No instant gratification of being one place one second, and somewhere halfway across the world the next.
Yet, there was something entirely beautiful about it as well.
On the other hand, maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
It was being confined to pretty much one place. One small place. For pretty much six days. But, unlike that last stint with confinement, he could at least walk away from this one if he wanted. He could just leave. That choice was there.
But there was also the real reason he was there. He knew Lucifer was as well. And that was the real reason. The reason behind the purposeful choices.
So he waited. So patiently. So quietly. He waited until the train had started. Until they were well on their journey. It was only then that he found his way to the compartment that Lucifer was sitting in and invited himself in and sat himself down across from him. At least it was just the two of them.
Though, perhaps that might not have been such a good thing.
There was nothing said for the longest of time. The silence, it became almost deafening. Still. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just sat there, watching Lucifer. No expression upon his unreadable face.
Finally, after long last, a hint of a frown broke through, tugging briefly upon the corners of his lips as he spoke breaking the silence. “Did you even think about me once? Or did you just think about yourself. About what was best for you and yourself only? Did you even care once?”
LUCIFER--
A train ride, for the novelty. He refused to admit, even to himself, that part of the reason is it was a journey Tristan had always wanted to take, but had never felt he had the time for. He could call it a reward, for the human's cooperation, in helping him pass as human, and blend into the current century, learn of the current cultures he found himself hiding in. He could call it that, and possibly did, but...there was just the simple fact he was finding himself more and more willing to do little, simple things for his vessel, when he was aware. He was...sometimes...feeling nice toward the human. Well, it was always best to reward pets for good behaviour. And he'd just keep right on telling himself that.
Besides, the train kept him moving, without having to actually put much effort into moving around. He could sit for hours, watching the scenery go by, thinking, with no one to disturb him, or even really take notice of him. And, he'd reasoned, there was such a low chance of one of the angels on Earth running across him here.
When he felt the subtle, gentle hum of expertly restrained grace in his vicinity, he didn't think much of it. He assumed it was Gabriel, returned from his visit to the newest member of their elite little club of siblings, and paid it little mind, assuming that Gabriel would have lost himself for a time watching the humans in an exercise of his newfound fascination with them. Gabriel would get around to coming to tell him the outcome of his encounter with Castiel when he was ready, and Lucifer wasn't inclined to go looking for him.
The inexplicable elevation of little Castiel still left him puzzled. Oh, not <i>who</i> it had happened to, not that. If it could have happened to any of the angels, it happening to Castiel didn't surprise him in the slightest. It was only that it had happened at all; it was simply unfathomable that it could have happened in the first place.
He glanced up from his thoughts when the door to the little compartment opened, fully expecting to see Gabriel standing there. But...no. His eyes narrowed at what he saw, a mask of careful neutrality coming over his face to hide his thoughts and feelings – as best he could, for he'd never been all that good at hiding himself from what had once been a beloved older brother – from the angel that was now coming in and settling in on the seat across from him. Michael. Michael, who...should have still been trapped in the Cage designed to hold Lucifer instead. He was free, even as Lucifer was. This...could be very bad.
The silence stretched out, and Lucifer, despite how uncomfortable it made him, let it do so. He was determined to let his brother speak first, unsure – and there was a feeling he hated, that he was always unsure around his elder brother, always hoping for approval, even when he'd rebelled against their Father's command – of what he even could say. And then, the flicker of change to Michael's expression, the faint frown, no less disturbing for all that it was subtle.
He was unsure – again, curse the mix of raw emotion that Michael always managed to stir in him, no matter how he steeled himself against it – of just how to answer his brother. How to answer, and actually be believed. Did Michael still seek, even now, to follow what they'd all believed was their Father's plan? Or had he also finally come to see how futile that was?
“When, Michael? When was I supposed to have thought of you? When I first rebelled, because I loved Father too much to think it was right to love the little rats more? Or when I was cast down into the Cage for my sins, and left to rot for so long? Or....when I left you there, taking my chance to escape...even though it was as much to put an end to a real threat, the one we were created originally to withstand?”
He finally paused, almost embarrassed by the raw emotion his spill of words had revealed. Then he sighed, letting his eyes slip away from his brother, back to the window with the scenery streaking by. He didn't really want to see Michael's response, expecting it to be no different than his pleas to him back during the aborted apocalypse. Michael had always been the dutiful son, the one who would follow whatever he believed their Father wanted, no matter how wrong it seemed to be. He hadn't really expected that to change, despite his own, more recent, changes. “The answer would be yes, to all of it. I thought about you. I thought about...everything. And I cared. Even in my madness, I cared. I just...couldn't always see it for what it really was.”
MICHAEL--
The cold expanse of Russia made for a great place to go to and hide. The country was vast. And while it had its great cities, there was so much space in between that it could be so easy to just… disappear, if one was so inclined. It was a land of such extremes. Such… well, he might even say it was a bit remarkable. The history. The people. The sights.
There was no anger. No yelling. No threats of violence or remarks that they still were not finished with one another. No fingers were really being pointed any longer, either.
As Lucifer spoke, he said nothing. That carefully schooled neutral expression of his remained, unchanged, throughout the whole time. If any of his words touched him or struck a chord, he said nothing. Expressed nothing. For all it was worth, though, it was hard to hold it all in. But he did, because he didn’t think he could trust himself to hold it together if he didn’t.
“Does it really matter? Now or before?” His words were confusing. Thoughts seemed jumbled enough. But they made perfect sense to him, even if he wasn’t necessarily making too much sense to Lucifer just yet. And maybe, it was the first hint that that calm composure was just a façade. That his time in confinement had been hard on him. Had changed something. There was more words that threatened to spill past his lips, but he held them in check.
For the moment, Michael continued to lead the slow dance, apparently in no real hurry. The train made regular stops, after all, some for as little as two minutes, some for as long as half an hour or so, depending upon the station and area they were passing through. So he knew that he had time. The next major stop at a large station wasn’t for another seven hours.
“You’re the first to know.” There was a small tip of his head up just a bit as he regarded Lucifer as he said that. The first being; first person; first… everything to know that he was even out of that forsaken cage, back from confinement… was Lucifer. And Michael had made it his purpose to see that he tracked him down and found him.
And after going through all of that, he hadn’t just immediately struck him down. The element of surprise had been well on Michael’s side. He could have finished so much. Could have been that dutiful son he always strove to be. But that would have been unfair.
Would have been the coward’s way out to not even give Lucifer a fair chance. A fair fight.
Yet, he also still wasn’t mentioning anything about that. There was still no remarks about how they still had unfinished business to tend to.
LUCIFER--
Slowly, pale eyes moved away from the sights out the window and back to the other occupant of the little compartment. Lucifer tilted his head, regarding his brother, taking the time to truly study him. Oh, he didn't kid himself that this whole thing was as likely to end in the death of one of them as anything, but, at least for the moment, Michael seemed inclined more to talk than to put him down the way humans did a rabid dog, and he would take that as long as it lasted. After all, he didn't really hold any hope of convincing either Michael to change his mind, or of convincing him that Lucifer himself was different.
A slow, casual shrug was his only answer to his brother's questions. How, really, could he even begin to answer them, as perplexing as they were? Granted, he felt that little mattered, except, perhaps, whatever unknown force was working out there to bring things into balance, that had brought their number back to four again, the archangels.
The thought flitted through his mind that Michael might not even know, since he had no idea when his brother had managed to slip the Cage and start walking the world again. Then again, he wondered if Michael would even care. And...there was the surprising thought that came next, a slim hope that he neither knew nor cared, only so that he would, perhaps, leave Castiel alone. He found that there was a certain vague fondness for the little angel, distant though it was, and mostly attached to the idea that with Castiel on the loose as an archangel, it might make it all the easier for him to remain off Heaven's radar.
Another shrug came, more in answer to his own thoughts than anything, and he refocused his attention on the brother seated across from him, almost wanting to curse himself for his own potentially dangerous lack of attention. But then, he simply...didn't really care that much. Michael would either seek to renew their ages old enmity, or...he wouldn't. There wasn't much Lucifer could to, in either case, unless he were to take flight and flee. That, however, he wouldn't do. Curiosity held him in place as much as his own general apathy did, and it was a strange mix.
His eyes widened, just ever-so-slightly, but enough that Michael would surely catch that tiny betrayal of his surprise. “Am I now,” Lucifer murmured, more a statement than question. He wanted to ask, 'why me,' but held it back. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted that answer just now. Not when this small bit of peace between them felt more like the eye in the center of a violent storm raging around them. He wasn't ready to step into the violence of that storm yet. Perhaps...not ever again.
Lucifer leaned back in his seat, regarding his brother for several more minutes silently. There was something there, something in Michael's words, in the minute shifts in his expression, though it remained largely blank, neutral, cold...still, there was something there that tugged at Lucifer. He narrowed his eyes briefly, then let himself relax – or, more like, forced himself to relax, as there would be no true sense of relaxation, of lowering his guard completely while he could feel the potential for violence still swirling around them, unseen, but...there, nonetheless.
“What is it you want, Michael?” His head tilted again, an openly curious expression settling across his face. He gestured vaguely around them, taking in the train, the human passengers, perhaps even the world at large. “Everything's different now, you know. We don't have to do it anymore.”
MICHAEL--
If Michael knew of Castiel, he said nothing at the moment. But Lucifer was also probably better off not mentioning anything to him, either, in case that Michael didn’t know. That information could…
….well, it was hard to say how Michael might have taken it. Or what he may have done. The last time he had seen him, Castiel had thought it wise to throw a holy oil Molotov cocktail at him. That sort of thing was hard to forget, after all. So that was something that could be dealt with at another time. And that was probably best for all.
At any moment, that mood could change. That calm could part and expose the raw nerve of whatever emotion that it was that laid just beneath it. The train. The passengers. What did they matter to him? Michael had shown before that while he didn’t hate humans, he also didn’t exactly care too much if he killed any. And if he had, for whatever reason, decided that this train was to be their new battleground? Then so be it.
But something about the way he looked, in that tired sadness that lurked in the depths of his blue eyes, that said that there was to be no physical alterations. No shows of power. The only battle that would happen was with the words that were exchanged between them.
“I don’t think you’re so much the monster you once have been, Lucifer. And, perhaps, I may not quite be the zealot I was once before as well.” As he spoke, he made a small gesture with his hand, as if a show of turning over a new leaf. He didn’t exactly believe it fully, but maybe there was something there. Something different in the both of them.
“You were once my most beloved brother, you know.” That betrayal that he had felt all those millennia ago had cut so deeply that he swore he still felt it sometimes as if it had happened only yesterday. “And yet, even as I’ve said before, I still do love you. Even now. Even after everything that you have done. Can I forgive and forget? No. But I don’t think you can do the same, either.” A soft sigh escaped towards the end there as his gaze shifted towards the window finally.
For a few minutes, he had then grown silent. He was beginning to see why Lucifer so enjoyed looking out it at the passing scenery. There was something about it. Something serene and calming. One could almost forget that they were sharing the compartment together at the moment.
“You said it best, however. Everything is different now.” Everything. It was different. It was a new world out there now. The old story had played out and the chapters were finished. What they had now? Was something new. Something where the pages were still blank and could be filled in however they wanted. It was almost terrifying to think about.
LUCIFER--
There, in his eyes, Lucifer could see it now. It was a pale, guarded echo of something so eerily similar to the look he'd seen in Gabriel's eyes, and the look that he imagined leaked through into his own in unguarded moments. Exhaustion. Weariness. Perhaps a touch of just..a feeling of being lost, adrift, without purpose. And, as Lucifer was all-too-aware, angels needed a purpose. They couldn't thrive without it. Lesser angels had even been known to completely lose themselves without that sense of purpose. Archangels were, of course, stronger than that, but...that didn't mean they could always be comfortable without it.
“I'm...not sure what I am, now,” he admitted, his voice low, almost intimate with the honesty of his words. It was showing weakness before someone that had been an enemy, yet...he couldn't bring himself to care. Again, that human phrase that Tristan had taught him floated up, 'zero fucks to give,' and Lucifer had to suppress the twitch of his lips, lest Michael mistake his brief flare of amusement for something other than what it truly was. Instead, he nodded slowly, understanding the intent of the gesture his brother made.
His eyes dropped down to stare at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap, in what was likely a failed attempt to hide the rush of tangled emotions Michael's admission caused. “I never stopped loving you. If anyone could have ever rivaled my love for Father, anything in all of Creation, it...would have been you.” He paused, truly considering the matter, then nodded slowly once more. “But no, I can't forget. Forgive? I...don't know. Not yet.”
He glanced up then, curious as to the reaction to his words, since only silence had met them. And he found himself caught, watching his brother as his brother watched the scenery pass, much as he'd been doing earlier. Something about watching the flickers of scenery, bits of light and dark, reflected in Michael's eyes caught at him, held him. He'd honestly never thought he'd have this chance again, to just sit silently and look upon the brother he'd so admired, perhaps even – blasphemy be damned, he thought with another flare of amusement – worshiped.
But that was a long time ago. Before the corruption that had stolen into his being from the Mark his Father had placed on him, using him as a lock to bind Her away. Before the command that had sent him spiraling into a madness he hadn't even been able to recognize at the time. For, after all, who had ever expected an angel to go mad?
Yet, with that madness suppressed, altered, if not actually gone, he could see that his love had never dimmed for his brother. It was that love that had caused him to reach out to Michael in that cemetery, their 'chosen battleground,' despite the need to destroy him that had held Lucifer firmly in its grasp.
Again, came a slow, thoughtful nod. He suspected, now, that Michael might be as lost and adrift as he himself was, and as Gabriel had shown himself to be, even if they all handled that in slightly different ways. Here they were, Heaven's most terrifying weapons, beings of fierce, absolute, immense power, and yet...they could be as lost as any human. Perhaps more so, as humans were born with some innate knowledge of free will, and angels...even archangels, simply were not, not really.
His mind drifted back to his conversation with Gabriel, and his head canted to the side once more, absently, as a thought occurred to him. His gaze sharpened on Michael, focusing with all of his angelic intensity, though with no malice, only simple, burning curiosity. “Everything is different now. But...perhaps that's not a bad thing.” He hesitated, studying Michael, looking for any hints as to how his brother really might feel as he continued. “So, will you go running right back to Heaven, to take up the mantle of leader once more? I'm sure...things must be chaos up there.”
MICHAEL--
If there was one thing Michael did have to admit, it was that this was going better than he had anticipated. At worst, he had expected Lucifer to simply get up and leave. At best, just sit there in a cold silence in favour of trying to ice him out and hope that Michael would leave on his own accord.
Despite everything, there was a soft flicker of an affectionate smile that passed across his lips for the briefest of moments. The moment was brief, and could have been easily missed, but it was, perhaps, the most genuine one he had given in such a long time. Perhaps he had missed this. All of it. The chance to just sit there and talk with him, as if it was old times once more, before everything had gone south. But there was still never any silly ideas that things could go back to how they were before. That was outlandish and pure nonsense, and even Michael knew that. One couldn’t just hit the reset button and expect everyone to just forgive and forget.
But there was still the chance to move forward. To, perhaps, work on rebuilding burnt bridges and find something new. Something all their own. He still loved their Father and still worshiped him, but that fanatical loyalty and blind devotion was weakened and Michael was beginning to realise that not everything was so black and white. There was so much more to it all than the narrow focus he once had.
No questions that had been asked of him had quite been answered directly yet. And it didn’t seem that Michael was going to start doing that just yet. Direct answers would mean he had a plan. It would have meant that he knew what he was going to do and what steps needed to be taken. And right now? Michael wasn’t exactly too sure of that. To say that he knew what he was going to next would have been the truthful answer, but it would have been the most frightening one he could have given. At the moment, he wasn’t even to that level of truth with himself yet, let alone Lucifer.
“I’ll be going where I’m needed.” It was the diplomatic answer, of course. And Michael knew that it could be read a multitude of ways. However, he still didn’t offer that clarification on which way he exactly meant it.
And yet, despite it all, Michael knew that there was a chance here. Something that neither of them had been allowed to have in such a very long time. For just a moment, there was that small look of internal conflict, as he wrestled with himself as to whether or not he wanted to consider doing such a thing. Saying the words that sometimes kept threatening to come out, despite his wishes to keep them bottled up so very tightly.
“My first course of action needs to be sorting myself out.” He finally offered it. Finally let that truth come spilling out with raw, brutal honesty. It was only fair, after all. Lucifer had shown him that slight vulnerability first, and he wouldn’t forget that. “I made errors along the way. In both judgment and action. I cannot allow the past to repeat itself all over again, or we’ll just end up in the same place once more. And what will that achieve, other than proving to be a study in impracticality and stupidity?” Looking down once more, there was a soft, sardonic chuckle for the briefest of moments before he looked back up at Lucifer.
There was no mistakes to be made, however. Even if he wasn’t sure about himself just yet, he was still as dangerous as ever. In a way, perhaps even more so as there was no guidance yet. Nothing that he was following. It was just Michael.
Suddenly, he stood up, his gaze turning intense as he stared at Lucifer. Studying him almost as if he was peering into his very essence; into the depths of that vessel and seeing everything within. And then, just as suddenly, he was smiling once more, a bit of a laugh almost threatening to escape before he swallowed it back down.
“Move over.” It was a gentle command, but one he was expecting to be followed.
LUCIFER--
The answer Michael gave, when he finally did, really didn't come as a surprise to Lucifer. It was an answer that was filled with neutral diplomacy, and wasn't really an answer at all, if one paid attention. It was...pure Michael, old Michael, and something about it rang not-quite-true to him. He merely regarded his brother, keeping his silence, keeping his opinion of that non-answer to himself.
Something, some niggling little whisper of a feeling, told him there was more to come if he held his tongue, and practiced the patience he was slowly learning to cultivate. The feeling he barely recognized was hope, hope born of that briefest glimpse of a smile that had flitted across Michael's expression. A smile that, to Lucifer, had spoken of fondness, something he'd never thought to see in relation to his elder brother ever again.
And when the words he'd thought were coming finally did come, they...weren't quite what he'd expected, or even quite what he'd dared hope for. There was a raw honesty in the words he'd never heard from his brother at all. Being the leader of Heaven once Father had performed his vanishing act, the Commander of the Host of Heaven, well... There had never been room for honesty in that role, not the kind of raw, brutal honesty Michael was displaying now. That role had always been about power and confidence and never, ever showing the slightest sign of weakness...and Lucifer had hated it.
This was, indeed, a changed Michael. Nothing could have made that clearer to Lucifer than the words his brother was speaking, laying himself bare in a way Lucifer had never thought to see. It made that barely recognized hope flare once more, and he couldn't help but stare a bit at Michael, uncaring in the moment of what of his emotions might show in that steady gaze.
“I'd really rather not end up in the same place. I... I'm done with that. I'm done with it all.” The words spilled forth in a murmur, perhaps even low enough that a human wouldn't have been able to catch them. But, he knew he was heard, anyway. There were benefits to being angels, after all.
Pale eyes had gone distant once more, Lucifer's attention drifting off into his thoughts again, as happened so often of late. He realized he was still here, still alive, and...that feeling of a maelstrom swirling around them both, poised on the razor edge of potential for incredible violence had eased. Oh, he had no doubts at all that Michael could still be dangerous, was very much still dangerous. After all, Lucifer was aware that he, too, was still dangerous, perhaps all the more because he was aware of the madness that still threatened to overwhelm him at times. Heaven's most terrifying weapons. And yet, it felt, to him, deep within his grace, deep within his very essence...that, perhaps, some of that danger would pass by. At least, for this moment.
Michael stood, a swift movement that brought him back to the here and now almost immediately. He looked up, meeting those intense blue eyes, not flinching, though all his brother's power and potential for destruction were on display to him in that moment. Nor did he make any efforts to hide any part of himself from that gaze, even letting his grace, so carefully restrained, shift and move in response to the sheer feeling of Michael's power and grace flaring so close.
The moment passed, and he allowed himself to blink, mirroring the smile that brightened Michael's face just then. He wasn't sure what Michael had seen, but it must have been enough for whatever judgment his brother had been preparing to pass. And Lucifer would accept whatever that judgment was. Michael's smile alone made it worth whatever he'd decided.
Yet, it was a surprise to him when the command came. “Move over.” Said gently, but firmly. And Lucifer was obeying before he'd even taken time to think about it, scooting over on the seat to leave room between him and the window for Michael to sit. When his brother settled himself, Lucifer couldn't help but tilt his head a bit, just enough to be able to look at Michael, to study him once more, though without turning fully toward him. This way, he could flick between looking out at the passing scenery, and stealing glances at his beloved older brother, as the urge took him.
Silence stretched out for a bit, as Lucifer simply enjoyed what felt to him very like a stolen moment in time. It made him think, again, of his meeting with Gabriel, and how that, too, had felt like a moment stolen out of time, something he'd never thought to have. And now, it was happening again, a repetition. Had their musings during that meeting held some grain of truth, after all? Could it be their Father still had a hand in things, and...was trying to bring his eldest children back together again? And if so, why? Was something coming, something they'd be needed for, as a group?
Despite himself, he felt a shiver run through his vessel, a feeling that grew stronger when he felt his shoulder brush against Michael's.
It was...certainly something to keep in mind, going forward.
MICHAEL--
Perhaps this was it. The real reason behind those purposeful actions of coming to Lucifer first. Of all beings. Of all places. Michael could have just as easily of went back to Heaven. Announced his return with all the pomp and circumstance that one might sort of expect and stepped right back in, one way or another, in order to pick back up the reigns and right a helmless ship. It would have made sense, after all. Those actions would have been what had been expected.
And yet, he hadn’t done that. None of it. Instead, he kept his return a secret, hidden away from everyone. In doing so, he could have watched a great number of things. Kept quiet and just stayed to the shadows, so to say, in order to watch and learn. See what was going on. And perhaps he was still doing part of that. Gathering information before he returned back to Heaven.
If one guessed that, they might not necessarily be too wrong, either. Despite that sense of loss and uncertainty, he was still always paying attention to things. But then again, they always were. All of them. To not pay attention and try to learn the important information was a rather brash thing to do and foolhardy.
There was an old, almost practiced ease with the way he had sat down next to Lucifer, as if they had done it a thousand times before. Such a statement might not have been too far from the truth, but it had been such a long time. Yet, in that instant, for just that moment, it felt as if the last time had only been yesterday.
“I’d almost forgotten what it was like to just be.” He ventured a casual statement, more almost musing out loud for that small bit. “It’s different. I don’t know if I quite like it yet.” A small flicker of a frown went with that uncertainty. There was no responsibility to shoulder at the moment, after all. No commands to issue. What was even his purpose? Those creeping doubts, though, were shoved to the back of his mind once more, and pushed down before he could consider them more. They had no place in the conversation at the moment and didn’t belong in the equation.
Between them both, they probably had a mountain of issues that needed to be worked through, but even through all of that, there was also a bit of newfound appreciation there for his brother. Michael hadn’t been confined for all that long, and he still had found the whole thing a terrible experience all around and yet, there was Lucifer. He had been there once before, at Michael’s own doing. There might have been some regret there. Even if he had been following orders.
Maybe, he still was. Maybe they all were, whether they realised it or not.
“If I asked you not to tell anyone else I’m back, would you truly be able to do such a thing?” The question was a light one, tone more curious than if he was actually asking a serious enough question. Sure. He knew quite well that Lucifer was good at keeping plenty of secrets, but sometimes, some just accidentally slipped out, whether one meant them to or not. On the other hand, he was pretty sure he was safe in his guess that his brother wasn’t doing quilting circles with the local gossipy grandmas every week, so there wasn’t any real worry there about too many people learning.
With the occasional bump and sway of the train, he still paid no attention to it. It was a bit of a normal rhythm normal rhythm now, though once he did brush his knee against Lucifer’s.
Leaning his head back against the seat, he turned it to the side so that he could better look at his companion. “…it could be our little secret.” And there it was. That wide, brilliant smile shared between just the two of them. And in that moment, that was what it was. Just the two of them. Like old times. Something shared between them that no one else had just yet. It was a potentially dangerous secret, sure, but there was no real harm there yet.
Despite a moment of hesitation, he reached out and covered Lucifer’s hand with his. In that moment, he didn’t have to be the rigid leader of Heaven or anything else. For just this moment, he was simply Michael.
It had often been touted as the world’s greatest railway journey. Not only was it renowned as being the longest, but it spanned seven time zones in its entirety and covered a wide variety of terrain from steppe to desert; from mountain to forest. The entirety of the trip was around six days. Over nine if one continued on from Vladivostok to North Korea.
There were other choices he could have made as well. Moscow to Beijing also took six nights and was said to be an interesting ride as well. However, the route to Vladivostok had been the one he had taken.
The choice seemed usual enough. It was a common choice at a natural stopping point where many people tended to ride the line to. But the choice was also purposeful. Sure. There was much easier ways for an Archangel to travel, but Michael was on the train for a reason. Sure. Perhaps he was trying to understand humanity better. Trying to understand things from their point of view.
Trying to understand what it mean to truly just live for once, instead of following some plan. Instead of just following orders without giving any real thought to action or words.
It was…
….well, it was an experience of sorts, that was for sure. How could humanity stand this? All the waiting. The long lines. The long journeys. There was no instantly showing up in a location. No instant gratification of being one place one second, and somewhere halfway across the world the next.
Yet, there was something entirely beautiful about it as well.
On the other hand, maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
It was being confined to pretty much one place. One small place. For pretty much six days. But, unlike that last stint with confinement, he could at least walk away from this one if he wanted. He could just leave. That choice was there.
But there was also the real reason he was there. He knew Lucifer was as well. And that was the real reason. The reason behind the purposeful choices.
So he waited. So patiently. So quietly. He waited until the train had started. Until they were well on their journey. It was only then that he found his way to the compartment that Lucifer was sitting in and invited himself in and sat himself down across from him. At least it was just the two of them.
Though, perhaps that might not have been such a good thing.
There was nothing said for the longest of time. The silence, it became almost deafening. Still. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just sat there, watching Lucifer. No expression upon his unreadable face.
Finally, after long last, a hint of a frown broke through, tugging briefly upon the corners of his lips as he spoke breaking the silence. “Did you even think about me once? Or did you just think about yourself. About what was best for you and yourself only? Did you even care once?”
LUCIFER--
A train ride, for the novelty. He refused to admit, even to himself, that part of the reason is it was a journey Tristan had always wanted to take, but had never felt he had the time for. He could call it a reward, for the human's cooperation, in helping him pass as human, and blend into the current century, learn of the current cultures he found himself hiding in. He could call it that, and possibly did, but...there was just the simple fact he was finding himself more and more willing to do little, simple things for his vessel, when he was aware. He was...sometimes...feeling nice toward the human. Well, it was always best to reward pets for good behaviour. And he'd just keep right on telling himself that.
Besides, the train kept him moving, without having to actually put much effort into moving around. He could sit for hours, watching the scenery go by, thinking, with no one to disturb him, or even really take notice of him. And, he'd reasoned, there was such a low chance of one of the angels on Earth running across him here.
When he felt the subtle, gentle hum of expertly restrained grace in his vicinity, he didn't think much of it. He assumed it was Gabriel, returned from his visit to the newest member of their elite little club of siblings, and paid it little mind, assuming that Gabriel would have lost himself for a time watching the humans in an exercise of his newfound fascination with them. Gabriel would get around to coming to tell him the outcome of his encounter with Castiel when he was ready, and Lucifer wasn't inclined to go looking for him.
The inexplicable elevation of little Castiel still left him puzzled. Oh, not <i>who</i> it had happened to, not that. If it could have happened to any of the angels, it happening to Castiel didn't surprise him in the slightest. It was only that it had happened at all; it was simply unfathomable that it could have happened in the first place.
He glanced up from his thoughts when the door to the little compartment opened, fully expecting to see Gabriel standing there. But...no. His eyes narrowed at what he saw, a mask of careful neutrality coming over his face to hide his thoughts and feelings – as best he could, for he'd never been all that good at hiding himself from what had once been a beloved older brother – from the angel that was now coming in and settling in on the seat across from him. Michael. Michael, who...should have still been trapped in the Cage designed to hold Lucifer instead. He was free, even as Lucifer was. This...could be very bad.
The silence stretched out, and Lucifer, despite how uncomfortable it made him, let it do so. He was determined to let his brother speak first, unsure – and there was a feeling he hated, that he was always unsure around his elder brother, always hoping for approval, even when he'd rebelled against their Father's command – of what he even could say. And then, the flicker of change to Michael's expression, the faint frown, no less disturbing for all that it was subtle.
He was unsure – again, curse the mix of raw emotion that Michael always managed to stir in him, no matter how he steeled himself against it – of just how to answer his brother. How to answer, and actually be believed. Did Michael still seek, even now, to follow what they'd all believed was their Father's plan? Or had he also finally come to see how futile that was?
“When, Michael? When was I supposed to have thought of you? When I first rebelled, because I loved Father too much to think it was right to love the little rats more? Or when I was cast down into the Cage for my sins, and left to rot for so long? Or....when I left you there, taking my chance to escape...even though it was as much to put an end to a real threat, the one we were created originally to withstand?”
He finally paused, almost embarrassed by the raw emotion his spill of words had revealed. Then he sighed, letting his eyes slip away from his brother, back to the window with the scenery streaking by. He didn't really want to see Michael's response, expecting it to be no different than his pleas to him back during the aborted apocalypse. Michael had always been the dutiful son, the one who would follow whatever he believed their Father wanted, no matter how wrong it seemed to be. He hadn't really expected that to change, despite his own, more recent, changes. “The answer would be yes, to all of it. I thought about you. I thought about...everything. And I cared. Even in my madness, I cared. I just...couldn't always see it for what it really was.”
MICHAEL--
The cold expanse of Russia made for a great place to go to and hide. The country was vast. And while it had its great cities, there was so much space in between that it could be so easy to just… disappear, if one was so inclined. It was a land of such extremes. Such… well, he might even say it was a bit remarkable. The history. The people. The sights.
There was no anger. No yelling. No threats of violence or remarks that they still were not finished with one another. No fingers were really being pointed any longer, either.
As Lucifer spoke, he said nothing. That carefully schooled neutral expression of his remained, unchanged, throughout the whole time. If any of his words touched him or struck a chord, he said nothing. Expressed nothing. For all it was worth, though, it was hard to hold it all in. But he did, because he didn’t think he could trust himself to hold it together if he didn’t.
“Does it really matter? Now or before?” His words were confusing. Thoughts seemed jumbled enough. But they made perfect sense to him, even if he wasn’t necessarily making too much sense to Lucifer just yet. And maybe, it was the first hint that that calm composure was just a façade. That his time in confinement had been hard on him. Had changed something. There was more words that threatened to spill past his lips, but he held them in check.
For the moment, Michael continued to lead the slow dance, apparently in no real hurry. The train made regular stops, after all, some for as little as two minutes, some for as long as half an hour or so, depending upon the station and area they were passing through. So he knew that he had time. The next major stop at a large station wasn’t for another seven hours.
“You’re the first to know.” There was a small tip of his head up just a bit as he regarded Lucifer as he said that. The first being; first person; first… everything to know that he was even out of that forsaken cage, back from confinement… was Lucifer. And Michael had made it his purpose to see that he tracked him down and found him.
And after going through all of that, he hadn’t just immediately struck him down. The element of surprise had been well on Michael’s side. He could have finished so much. Could have been that dutiful son he always strove to be. But that would have been unfair.
Would have been the coward’s way out to not even give Lucifer a fair chance. A fair fight.
Yet, he also still wasn’t mentioning anything about that. There was still no remarks about how they still had unfinished business to tend to.
LUCIFER--
Slowly, pale eyes moved away from the sights out the window and back to the other occupant of the little compartment. Lucifer tilted his head, regarding his brother, taking the time to truly study him. Oh, he didn't kid himself that this whole thing was as likely to end in the death of one of them as anything, but, at least for the moment, Michael seemed inclined more to talk than to put him down the way humans did a rabid dog, and he would take that as long as it lasted. After all, he didn't really hold any hope of convincing either Michael to change his mind, or of convincing him that Lucifer himself was different.
A slow, casual shrug was his only answer to his brother's questions. How, really, could he even begin to answer them, as perplexing as they were? Granted, he felt that little mattered, except, perhaps, whatever unknown force was working out there to bring things into balance, that had brought their number back to four again, the archangels.
The thought flitted through his mind that Michael might not even know, since he had no idea when his brother had managed to slip the Cage and start walking the world again. Then again, he wondered if Michael would even care. And...there was the surprising thought that came next, a slim hope that he neither knew nor cared, only so that he would, perhaps, leave Castiel alone. He found that there was a certain vague fondness for the little angel, distant though it was, and mostly attached to the idea that with Castiel on the loose as an archangel, it might make it all the easier for him to remain off Heaven's radar.
Another shrug came, more in answer to his own thoughts than anything, and he refocused his attention on the brother seated across from him, almost wanting to curse himself for his own potentially dangerous lack of attention. But then, he simply...didn't really care that much. Michael would either seek to renew their ages old enmity, or...he wouldn't. There wasn't much Lucifer could to, in either case, unless he were to take flight and flee. That, however, he wouldn't do. Curiosity held him in place as much as his own general apathy did, and it was a strange mix.
His eyes widened, just ever-so-slightly, but enough that Michael would surely catch that tiny betrayal of his surprise. “Am I now,” Lucifer murmured, more a statement than question. He wanted to ask, 'why me,' but held it back. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted that answer just now. Not when this small bit of peace between them felt more like the eye in the center of a violent storm raging around them. He wasn't ready to step into the violence of that storm yet. Perhaps...not ever again.
Lucifer leaned back in his seat, regarding his brother for several more minutes silently. There was something there, something in Michael's words, in the minute shifts in his expression, though it remained largely blank, neutral, cold...still, there was something there that tugged at Lucifer. He narrowed his eyes briefly, then let himself relax – or, more like, forced himself to relax, as there would be no true sense of relaxation, of lowering his guard completely while he could feel the potential for violence still swirling around them, unseen, but...there, nonetheless.
“What is it you want, Michael?” His head tilted again, an openly curious expression settling across his face. He gestured vaguely around them, taking in the train, the human passengers, perhaps even the world at large. “Everything's different now, you know. We don't have to do it anymore.”
MICHAEL--
If Michael knew of Castiel, he said nothing at the moment. But Lucifer was also probably better off not mentioning anything to him, either, in case that Michael didn’t know. That information could…
….well, it was hard to say how Michael might have taken it. Or what he may have done. The last time he had seen him, Castiel had thought it wise to throw a holy oil Molotov cocktail at him. That sort of thing was hard to forget, after all. So that was something that could be dealt with at another time. And that was probably best for all.
At any moment, that mood could change. That calm could part and expose the raw nerve of whatever emotion that it was that laid just beneath it. The train. The passengers. What did they matter to him? Michael had shown before that while he didn’t hate humans, he also didn’t exactly care too much if he killed any. And if he had, for whatever reason, decided that this train was to be their new battleground? Then so be it.
But something about the way he looked, in that tired sadness that lurked in the depths of his blue eyes, that said that there was to be no physical alterations. No shows of power. The only battle that would happen was with the words that were exchanged between them.
“I don’t think you’re so much the monster you once have been, Lucifer. And, perhaps, I may not quite be the zealot I was once before as well.” As he spoke, he made a small gesture with his hand, as if a show of turning over a new leaf. He didn’t exactly believe it fully, but maybe there was something there. Something different in the both of them.
“You were once my most beloved brother, you know.” That betrayal that he had felt all those millennia ago had cut so deeply that he swore he still felt it sometimes as if it had happened only yesterday. “And yet, even as I’ve said before, I still do love you. Even now. Even after everything that you have done. Can I forgive and forget? No. But I don’t think you can do the same, either.” A soft sigh escaped towards the end there as his gaze shifted towards the window finally.
For a few minutes, he had then grown silent. He was beginning to see why Lucifer so enjoyed looking out it at the passing scenery. There was something about it. Something serene and calming. One could almost forget that they were sharing the compartment together at the moment.
“You said it best, however. Everything is different now.” Everything. It was different. It was a new world out there now. The old story had played out and the chapters were finished. What they had now? Was something new. Something where the pages were still blank and could be filled in however they wanted. It was almost terrifying to think about.
LUCIFER--
There, in his eyes, Lucifer could see it now. It was a pale, guarded echo of something so eerily similar to the look he'd seen in Gabriel's eyes, and the look that he imagined leaked through into his own in unguarded moments. Exhaustion. Weariness. Perhaps a touch of just..a feeling of being lost, adrift, without purpose. And, as Lucifer was all-too-aware, angels needed a purpose. They couldn't thrive without it. Lesser angels had even been known to completely lose themselves without that sense of purpose. Archangels were, of course, stronger than that, but...that didn't mean they could always be comfortable without it.
“I'm...not sure what I am, now,” he admitted, his voice low, almost intimate with the honesty of his words. It was showing weakness before someone that had been an enemy, yet...he couldn't bring himself to care. Again, that human phrase that Tristan had taught him floated up, 'zero fucks to give,' and Lucifer had to suppress the twitch of his lips, lest Michael mistake his brief flare of amusement for something other than what it truly was. Instead, he nodded slowly, understanding the intent of the gesture his brother made.
His eyes dropped down to stare at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap, in what was likely a failed attempt to hide the rush of tangled emotions Michael's admission caused. “I never stopped loving you. If anyone could have ever rivaled my love for Father, anything in all of Creation, it...would have been you.” He paused, truly considering the matter, then nodded slowly once more. “But no, I can't forget. Forgive? I...don't know. Not yet.”
He glanced up then, curious as to the reaction to his words, since only silence had met them. And he found himself caught, watching his brother as his brother watched the scenery pass, much as he'd been doing earlier. Something about watching the flickers of scenery, bits of light and dark, reflected in Michael's eyes caught at him, held him. He'd honestly never thought he'd have this chance again, to just sit silently and look upon the brother he'd so admired, perhaps even – blasphemy be damned, he thought with another flare of amusement – worshiped.
But that was a long time ago. Before the corruption that had stolen into his being from the Mark his Father had placed on him, using him as a lock to bind Her away. Before the command that had sent him spiraling into a madness he hadn't even been able to recognize at the time. For, after all, who had ever expected an angel to go mad?
Yet, with that madness suppressed, altered, if not actually gone, he could see that his love had never dimmed for his brother. It was that love that had caused him to reach out to Michael in that cemetery, their 'chosen battleground,' despite the need to destroy him that had held Lucifer firmly in its grasp.
Again, came a slow, thoughtful nod. He suspected, now, that Michael might be as lost and adrift as he himself was, and as Gabriel had shown himself to be, even if they all handled that in slightly different ways. Here they were, Heaven's most terrifying weapons, beings of fierce, absolute, immense power, and yet...they could be as lost as any human. Perhaps more so, as humans were born with some innate knowledge of free will, and angels...even archangels, simply were not, not really.
His mind drifted back to his conversation with Gabriel, and his head canted to the side once more, absently, as a thought occurred to him. His gaze sharpened on Michael, focusing with all of his angelic intensity, though with no malice, only simple, burning curiosity. “Everything is different now. But...perhaps that's not a bad thing.” He hesitated, studying Michael, looking for any hints as to how his brother really might feel as he continued. “So, will you go running right back to Heaven, to take up the mantle of leader once more? I'm sure...things must be chaos up there.”
MICHAEL--
If there was one thing Michael did have to admit, it was that this was going better than he had anticipated. At worst, he had expected Lucifer to simply get up and leave. At best, just sit there in a cold silence in favour of trying to ice him out and hope that Michael would leave on his own accord.
Despite everything, there was a soft flicker of an affectionate smile that passed across his lips for the briefest of moments. The moment was brief, and could have been easily missed, but it was, perhaps, the most genuine one he had given in such a long time. Perhaps he had missed this. All of it. The chance to just sit there and talk with him, as if it was old times once more, before everything had gone south. But there was still never any silly ideas that things could go back to how they were before. That was outlandish and pure nonsense, and even Michael knew that. One couldn’t just hit the reset button and expect everyone to just forgive and forget.
But there was still the chance to move forward. To, perhaps, work on rebuilding burnt bridges and find something new. Something all their own. He still loved their Father and still worshiped him, but that fanatical loyalty and blind devotion was weakened and Michael was beginning to realise that not everything was so black and white. There was so much more to it all than the narrow focus he once had.
No questions that had been asked of him had quite been answered directly yet. And it didn’t seem that Michael was going to start doing that just yet. Direct answers would mean he had a plan. It would have meant that he knew what he was going to do and what steps needed to be taken. And right now? Michael wasn’t exactly too sure of that. To say that he knew what he was going to next would have been the truthful answer, but it would have been the most frightening one he could have given. At the moment, he wasn’t even to that level of truth with himself yet, let alone Lucifer.
“I’ll be going where I’m needed.” It was the diplomatic answer, of course. And Michael knew that it could be read a multitude of ways. However, he still didn’t offer that clarification on which way he exactly meant it.
And yet, despite it all, Michael knew that there was a chance here. Something that neither of them had been allowed to have in such a very long time. For just a moment, there was that small look of internal conflict, as he wrestled with himself as to whether or not he wanted to consider doing such a thing. Saying the words that sometimes kept threatening to come out, despite his wishes to keep them bottled up so very tightly.
“My first course of action needs to be sorting myself out.” He finally offered it. Finally let that truth come spilling out with raw, brutal honesty. It was only fair, after all. Lucifer had shown him that slight vulnerability first, and he wouldn’t forget that. “I made errors along the way. In both judgment and action. I cannot allow the past to repeat itself all over again, or we’ll just end up in the same place once more. And what will that achieve, other than proving to be a study in impracticality and stupidity?” Looking down once more, there was a soft, sardonic chuckle for the briefest of moments before he looked back up at Lucifer.
There was no mistakes to be made, however. Even if he wasn’t sure about himself just yet, he was still as dangerous as ever. In a way, perhaps even more so as there was no guidance yet. Nothing that he was following. It was just Michael.
Suddenly, he stood up, his gaze turning intense as he stared at Lucifer. Studying him almost as if he was peering into his very essence; into the depths of that vessel and seeing everything within. And then, just as suddenly, he was smiling once more, a bit of a laugh almost threatening to escape before he swallowed it back down.
“Move over.” It was a gentle command, but one he was expecting to be followed.
LUCIFER--
The answer Michael gave, when he finally did, really didn't come as a surprise to Lucifer. It was an answer that was filled with neutral diplomacy, and wasn't really an answer at all, if one paid attention. It was...pure Michael, old Michael, and something about it rang not-quite-true to him. He merely regarded his brother, keeping his silence, keeping his opinion of that non-answer to himself.
Something, some niggling little whisper of a feeling, told him there was more to come if he held his tongue, and practiced the patience he was slowly learning to cultivate. The feeling he barely recognized was hope, hope born of that briefest glimpse of a smile that had flitted across Michael's expression. A smile that, to Lucifer, had spoken of fondness, something he'd never thought to see in relation to his elder brother ever again.
And when the words he'd thought were coming finally did come, they...weren't quite what he'd expected, or even quite what he'd dared hope for. There was a raw honesty in the words he'd never heard from his brother at all. Being the leader of Heaven once Father had performed his vanishing act, the Commander of the Host of Heaven, well... There had never been room for honesty in that role, not the kind of raw, brutal honesty Michael was displaying now. That role had always been about power and confidence and never, ever showing the slightest sign of weakness...and Lucifer had hated it.
This was, indeed, a changed Michael. Nothing could have made that clearer to Lucifer than the words his brother was speaking, laying himself bare in a way Lucifer had never thought to see. It made that barely recognized hope flare once more, and he couldn't help but stare a bit at Michael, uncaring in the moment of what of his emotions might show in that steady gaze.
“I'd really rather not end up in the same place. I... I'm done with that. I'm done with it all.” The words spilled forth in a murmur, perhaps even low enough that a human wouldn't have been able to catch them. But, he knew he was heard, anyway. There were benefits to being angels, after all.
Pale eyes had gone distant once more, Lucifer's attention drifting off into his thoughts again, as happened so often of late. He realized he was still here, still alive, and...that feeling of a maelstrom swirling around them both, poised on the razor edge of potential for incredible violence had eased. Oh, he had no doubts at all that Michael could still be dangerous, was very much still dangerous. After all, Lucifer was aware that he, too, was still dangerous, perhaps all the more because he was aware of the madness that still threatened to overwhelm him at times. Heaven's most terrifying weapons. And yet, it felt, to him, deep within his grace, deep within his very essence...that, perhaps, some of that danger would pass by. At least, for this moment.
Michael stood, a swift movement that brought him back to the here and now almost immediately. He looked up, meeting those intense blue eyes, not flinching, though all his brother's power and potential for destruction were on display to him in that moment. Nor did he make any efforts to hide any part of himself from that gaze, even letting his grace, so carefully restrained, shift and move in response to the sheer feeling of Michael's power and grace flaring so close.
The moment passed, and he allowed himself to blink, mirroring the smile that brightened Michael's face just then. He wasn't sure what Michael had seen, but it must have been enough for whatever judgment his brother had been preparing to pass. And Lucifer would accept whatever that judgment was. Michael's smile alone made it worth whatever he'd decided.
Yet, it was a surprise to him when the command came. “Move over.” Said gently, but firmly. And Lucifer was obeying before he'd even taken time to think about it, scooting over on the seat to leave room between him and the window for Michael to sit. When his brother settled himself, Lucifer couldn't help but tilt his head a bit, just enough to be able to look at Michael, to study him once more, though without turning fully toward him. This way, he could flick between looking out at the passing scenery, and stealing glances at his beloved older brother, as the urge took him.
Silence stretched out for a bit, as Lucifer simply enjoyed what felt to him very like a stolen moment in time. It made him think, again, of his meeting with Gabriel, and how that, too, had felt like a moment stolen out of time, something he'd never thought to have. And now, it was happening again, a repetition. Had their musings during that meeting held some grain of truth, after all? Could it be their Father still had a hand in things, and...was trying to bring his eldest children back together again? And if so, why? Was something coming, something they'd be needed for, as a group?
Despite himself, he felt a shiver run through his vessel, a feeling that grew stronger when he felt his shoulder brush against Michael's.
It was...certainly something to keep in mind, going forward.
MICHAEL--
Perhaps this was it. The real reason behind those purposeful actions of coming to Lucifer first. Of all beings. Of all places. Michael could have just as easily of went back to Heaven. Announced his return with all the pomp and circumstance that one might sort of expect and stepped right back in, one way or another, in order to pick back up the reigns and right a helmless ship. It would have made sense, after all. Those actions would have been what had been expected.
And yet, he hadn’t done that. None of it. Instead, he kept his return a secret, hidden away from everyone. In doing so, he could have watched a great number of things. Kept quiet and just stayed to the shadows, so to say, in order to watch and learn. See what was going on. And perhaps he was still doing part of that. Gathering information before he returned back to Heaven.
If one guessed that, they might not necessarily be too wrong, either. Despite that sense of loss and uncertainty, he was still always paying attention to things. But then again, they always were. All of them. To not pay attention and try to learn the important information was a rather brash thing to do and foolhardy.
There was an old, almost practiced ease with the way he had sat down next to Lucifer, as if they had done it a thousand times before. Such a statement might not have been too far from the truth, but it had been such a long time. Yet, in that instant, for just that moment, it felt as if the last time had only been yesterday.
“I’d almost forgotten what it was like to just be.” He ventured a casual statement, more almost musing out loud for that small bit. “It’s different. I don’t know if I quite like it yet.” A small flicker of a frown went with that uncertainty. There was no responsibility to shoulder at the moment, after all. No commands to issue. What was even his purpose? Those creeping doubts, though, were shoved to the back of his mind once more, and pushed down before he could consider them more. They had no place in the conversation at the moment and didn’t belong in the equation.
Between them both, they probably had a mountain of issues that needed to be worked through, but even through all of that, there was also a bit of newfound appreciation there for his brother. Michael hadn’t been confined for all that long, and he still had found the whole thing a terrible experience all around and yet, there was Lucifer. He had been there once before, at Michael’s own doing. There might have been some regret there. Even if he had been following orders.
Maybe, he still was. Maybe they all were, whether they realised it or not.
“If I asked you not to tell anyone else I’m back, would you truly be able to do such a thing?” The question was a light one, tone more curious than if he was actually asking a serious enough question. Sure. He knew quite well that Lucifer was good at keeping plenty of secrets, but sometimes, some just accidentally slipped out, whether one meant them to or not. On the other hand, he was pretty sure he was safe in his guess that his brother wasn’t doing quilting circles with the local gossipy grandmas every week, so there wasn’t any real worry there about too many people learning.
With the occasional bump and sway of the train, he still paid no attention to it. It was a bit of a normal rhythm normal rhythm now, though once he did brush his knee against Lucifer’s.
Leaning his head back against the seat, he turned it to the side so that he could better look at his companion. “…it could be our little secret.” And there it was. That wide, brilliant smile shared between just the two of them. And in that moment, that was what it was. Just the two of them. Like old times. Something shared between them that no one else had just yet. It was a potentially dangerous secret, sure, but there was no real harm there yet.
Despite a moment of hesitation, he reached out and covered Lucifer’s hand with his. In that moment, he didn’t have to be the rigid leader of Heaven or anything else. For just this moment, he was simply Michael.