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The first time Michael had heard the song was almost exactly a year after they had become human, a little longer. Lucifer, in his time between working at a small, independent bookstore, had began playing the guitar, and though he wouldn’t have admitted it then, Michael loved to listen to him play. That day was no different.
It started out simple enough. Michael got home from his own job, a simple one as a secretary to a rich, older businessman, and cooked dinner. During this time Lucifer sat in his tiny room in their apartment and strummed at the old guitar Michael had gotten him when he had begged for it.
“But Michael!” the younger archangel whined, pulling at Michael’s suit jacket in frustration. “I’m so bored! Please, let me have this one thing! I won’t fight with you for a month!”
Lucifer had gotten on his knees and pleaded for something to do, something to entertain himself with, and he had actually taken the time to learn it, which surprised Michael.
“All right, Lucifer. If you wish for it.” Lucifer jumped up, squealed, and bolted for the door, grabbing the car keys and his jacket on the way out.
“Yes!”
He had left the apartment with no thank you to Michael, which didn’t surprise him. He also hadn’t been surprised when the younger angel didn’t keep his ‘no fighting’ promise, but how could either of them even try to keep such a promise?
As he cooked, Michael listened quietly to the songs that Lucifer would play when he thought Michael wasn’t listening. He never sang along to them, because according to him, human voices were grating, and he didn’t want to hear any of them, especially not his own, more than necessary, but Michael still liked to hear his brother play something beautiful.
The song he was playing that day was a new song that Lucifer hadn’t, to Michael’s knowledge, played before, so he set the kitchen utensils aside and turned off the stove. He walked to Lucifer’s door and opened it just a crack, and he could see Lucifer, with his back facing Michael as he played. A ghost of a smile was on Michael’s face, but as he turned away, Lucifer began to sing softly, and Michael turned back to his brother silently.
“It’s the way that you blush when you’re nervous,
It’s your ability to make me earn this,
I know that you’re tired, just let me sing you to sleep.
It’s about how you laugh out of pity,
Cause let’s be honest I’m not really that funny.
I know that you’re shot, just let me sing you to sleep.”
The blond archangel trailed off and let his playing fade along with his voice. Michael cleared his throat behind him, and Lucifer turned, letting his face show to his elder brother. He raised an eyebrow, and gave him a little smirk.
“What, no welcome home for me? What do you want, Michael?” He stood and began to pack his guitar back into its case. Michael watched as he rubbed his red fingers quietly.
“You knew I was home, Lucifer, and I came to ask what you would like for dinner.” The elder brother leaned on the doorframe and replayed his brother’s song through his head over and over. He didn’t even know why he liked it. It reminded him a little of when they were children, only just created and living in heaven as brothers and best friends, but at the same time, Michael figured he might just like it because it was Lucifer who had sang it, after all. He committed the entire verse to memory as Lucifer debated between ordering pizza and having Michael make them some.
Later in the week, on one of the few days when Lucifer was at work and Michael was home, the oldest angel sat around on their old computer and looked up the whole song. He wound up taking out Lucifer’s guitar and trying to play some of the chords and sing along to the song. Michael played clumsily; he was nowhere near as good as Lucifer, but he tried, and by the time Lucifer did get home, he had memorized the song. He still had to listen to Lucifer rant angrily at him for ‘screwing around with his things,’ but Michael couldn’t help but feel that maybe that song was worth it somehow. It felt special.
He’d almost forgotten about the song two years later, when he got the call he was waiting for. Michael remembered well the conversation that had happened over the phone.
“Hello? Lucifer, is that you?” There was panic in Michael’s voice; he knew it. He was afraid though; terrified that something could’ve happened since the day before, when he had last seen him. Hell, Michael had worried that his brother had overdosed and died.
“Hey, Micha.” Lucifer’s voice was scratchy from the alcohol he had undoubtedly been drinking, but Michael still felt relief hearing it. “Come pick me up, Michael?”
“Yes,” Michael said, and he hung up without bothering to ask where his little brother was. He knew already.
He had driven all the way out to the field the next town over, and sure enough, Lucifer had been there, all sharp angles and deep scars. Neither his body nor his soul were the perfect, unmarred things they had been when Michael had felt that he’d really known him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t know what he’d thought had happened to his brother, maybe that he’d finally decided to end his pitifully human life, but Michael was unbearably happy that he hadn’t.
In silence, Lucifer had climbed into the car and promptly fallen asleep, and the two brothers left behind the place where they had risen from the cage as humans. Michael still idly wondered about why his father had made that decision, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to, when he used to scream and cry about it. Now, he found he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Lucifer only fell apart when they reached the house. Michael had carried him in to the house by himself, and he’d settled his little brother on the couch and let him sleep. He remembered the song then, and spent the next hour remembering the chords and every word to the song that had affected him so heavily. When the blond man awoke, he took one look at Michael standing in the doorway to Lucifer’s room, and burst into tears.
Michael had swept him in to his arms then, cradling him close and whispering to him how much he loved him, angel or not, and telling him to please never leave him, never to die. Lucifer simply clutched to his shirt and sobbed, and Michael let him. He didn’t understand what had happened to Lucifer when he had become human, but he knew that it had damaged what was left of his brother’s fragile sanity. He had slipped into a deep depression and had resorted to drugs and alcohol and other things, and all Michael could do was watch his beloved brother begin to sink into madness and suffer by himself.
When Lucifer calmed enough to release Michael, he stood and retrieved Lucifer’s guitar from the man’s bedroom again. Lucifer himself hadn’t touched the thing in a year, but he still glared at Michael when he saw him holding it. In spite of the situation, Michael smiled. Lucifer never had been one to share.
“What, Michael?” He finally asked, and Michael settled himself next to him on the couch.
“I want you to hear me.” He responded, and he started strumming the guitar with ease. Lucifer raised a surprised eyebrow.
“I didn’t know you could play.”
“Hush, Lucifer.”
“Why? What are you playing?” Michael didn’t grace him with a response, instead allowing him to snivel and wait, wide eyed.
“It's the way that you blush when you're nervous.
It's your ability to make me earn this.
I know that you're tired, just let me sing you to sleep.
It's about how you laugh out of pity,
'Cause lets be honest I'm not really that funny.
I know that you're shot, just let me sing you to sleep.
“If you need anything, just the say the word.
I mean anything.
Rest assured, if you start to doze, then I'll tuck you in,
and plant my lips where your necklaces close.
It's those pills that you don't need to take,
medicating perfection, now that's a mistake.
I know that you're spent, just let me sing you to sleep.
It's your finger and how I'm wrapped around it.
It's your grace and how it keeps me grounded.
I know that you're weak, just let me sing you to sleep.
If you need anything, just the say the word.
I mean anything.
Rest assured, if you start to doze, then I'll tuck you in,
and plant my lips where your necklaces close.
While you were sleeping I figured out everything,
I was constructed for you, and you were molded for me.
Now I feel your name, coursing through my veins.
You shine so bright it's insane, you put the sun to shame.
If you need anything, just the say the word.
I mean anything. (I really do)
Rest assured, if you start to doze, then I'll tuck you in,
and plant my lips where your necklaces close.
If you need anything, just the say the word.
I mean anything.
Rest assured, if you start to doze, then I'll tuck you in,
and plant my lips where your necklaces close.”
Michael opened his eyes again when he finished, only to find Lucifer crying into his arm. He put the guitar off to the side and wrapped his arms around his brother and held him again. He was unsure if Lucifer understood what he meant with the song, but as long as he at least knew that it was for him, Michael figured that was enough.
“Michael.” Lucifer wiped his eyes and sniffled a little. He looked at Michael with a little smile on his face.
“Yes, Lucifer?”
“Brother, I love you.” Lucifer leaned over and pressed his chapped lips to Michael’s smooth ones for only a brief moment, and then settled in his arms again. Michael smiled. Maybe he had understood after all.
“And I you, my brother. Forever.” He rested his chin on his brother’s unruly mop of blond hair, and Lucifer laughed lightly.
“Forever, Michael.”