Work Text:
”If you would just let me be yo‒”
No. We talked about this. I’m not going to use you again. And I’m not going to use your soul either. It’s still raw from Hell and even though it wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do it.
Adam sighs resigned. He has start to see why Dean is Michael’s true vessel. They are both more stubborn than is healthy.
He slides the back door open and steps inside. The house is dark and a mess. Medical equipment and drugs are spread on every possible surface. Adam shudders. It’s unethical to leave a terminal cancer patient without a full-time care of a nurse, has he the money to pay about it or not.
He walks up the creaking stairs and softly pushes the bedroom door open. The room is quiet, apart from the pained breathing of a man in the bed. He’s Jonathan Miller, his second cousin from his father’s side and used to be an accountant in a local company. Three years ago doctor’s diagnosed him with a stage 2 bone cancer. Now they have given him less than two months to live. All he can do is stay at home, trapped into an IV.
Adam walks to his bedside and crouches down to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. The other man is skinny and deadly pale. He lays his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder as he wakes up, blinking disorientedly due the pain and the drugs. “It’s okay. I’m a friend. I’m here to offer you a choice.”
There’s a moment of silence when Jonathan tries to comprehend what he has just said. “A choice?” he croaks dryly.
“Yes. I can give you an alternative for this,” Adam motions towards the bleak bedroom and the IV-stand at the other side of the bed.
Jonathan’s eyes wander from him to the ceiling. “I’m sorry, but I’m a coward. I don’t have it in me to kill myself. Not yet.”
Adam knows fully well that morally this is far beyond shady. The other man probably thinks this is a dream or a hallucination. But he’s out of options. Michael needs a vessel, despite what the angel himself says. He takes a shaky breath. “What if I could give you an option from between death and the pain?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s possible for you to become a vessel for an angel. He would take control of your body, which would give him a physical form on Earth.”
“Would I…?” The question is cut off by a pained gasp.
Adam rubs his shoulder comfortingly. “He can make sure you wouldn’t be aware any of it.”
They are silent for a moment, when Jonathan stares at the shadows of the ceiling. “Yes,” he finally says almost inaudibly.
It’s all Adam needs. He pulls a small vial in a chain under his shirt. The light it emits is disturbingly dim; it has been weakening ever since they got out of the Cage. He stands up. “Thank you,” he says before mashing the vial to the floor.
A white light explodes when the glass shatters on the carpet. It creates dark shadows to the corners of the room when it slithers its way at Jonathan. He gasps loudly as it disappears inside him. A blinding light flashes fading everything away for a moment.
Michael draws a breath when the pain gets to a whole a new level as he settles into his vessel. His Grace is already in shreds being forced out through the sigils of the Cage, pain is everywhere. His wings are already a lost cause and now his Grace tries to desperately heal his new body. Everything is spinning around him as he tries to concentrate to the warmth on his face. Hands. Someone sounds to be calling him. Adam. He forces his eyes to focus on the boy that seems to waver worriedly over him. He wants to assure him that he’ll be OK, comfort him, he shouldn’t be so sad because of him, but only manages is a pained groan. Adam sounds to be cursing and pulls away, please don’t go, but then the warmth, the hands, are back cupping his face. Adam is saying something, it’s not English, it’s‒ oh, no no no no no, don’t do it, please, don’t do it. He tries to pull away, but before he can move, Adam’s kissing him.
There’s a surge of power between them. It spreads over his Grace, dulling the pain, smoothing the tears. His Grace is buzzing from the feel of power, familiar and foreign at the same time. It’s the same warmth he knows from the Cage, the same light he protected there with all he could. He knows its every aspect, every streak, but now it’s becoming something much more intimate, it’s weaving itself into his Grace and no no no, this is not what he wants, he doesn’t deserve it. The warmth is starting to spread into the remnants of his wings; he has to end this now before his Grace consumes all of the light. He breaks the kiss and everything blackens.
When Michael regains his consciousness again, the lamp on the nightstand is still throwing shadows on the walls and it’s still dark outside. Slowly, he gets out of the bed and on the floor where Adam’s sitting contently, leaning against the foot of the bed and watching the stars lighting up on the sky.
When he sits next to him, Adam turns to glance at him and gives him a small smile. Something heavy sets inside Michael, because yes, this is Adam, but, something is permanently broken, crippled. Michael buries his head into his hands. “I never wanted your soul.”