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It was a cloudy night with no moon, which meant pitch blackness over the English countryside of Cheshire. A lone flash of lighting darted across the sky, momentarily cutting through the darkness.
If someone had been there to witness the solitary lighting bolt, they might have said that the lighting had coalesced into the shape of a person. But no one was there, and Michael descended to Earth unnoticed.
The grass was soft under Michael's feet when they touched the ground. There was a soft huff as the lighting faded away, then she fished her phone from her pocket and breathed over the screen, and it came to life, spilling light out onto her surroundings.
She walked forward, down the small knoll she had landed on, and towards a thin gathering of trees. The light of her phone shone up into the branches, catching in the leaves and spitting shadows out.
"Where are you?" she called out, flicking her wrist and sending splashes of light through the loosely clustered trees. A strong breeze picked up suddenly, and for several moments, there was nothing but the sound of wind rustling through the leaves.
A hand snaked from behind a tree Michael was standing beside, then fingers closed around her wrist. Michael jerked back, startled, and brought her phone to bear, watching Hastur emerge from behind the tree under its light.
"Took you long enough." he said dryly. Michael sniffed, her eyes darting over his figure, but flitted away after mere seconds.
"I do have things to attend to that aren't you two." she replied. Hastur's lips twisted unpleasantly.
"Well, aren't you high and mighty tonight." Michael's face hardened, and she pulled her arm back, her wrist nearly slipping from his grasp. Hastur made a gruff noise deep in his throat, his fingers tightening, crushing the delicate fabric that leaked from her sleeves.
Michael's own fingers tightened around the case of her phone. "Hastur." she said, softly, warningly. The pressure from his fingers eased grudgingly.
"Come on now, we don't have all night." he said, his voice shifting to a feigned impatience, and his fingers left her wrist and slid up, cupping around her elbow. He tugged her forward, and she let him.
"It's just down there." Hastur continued, indicating the way forward with a tilt of his head. "It's a private place, like you wanted." Michael looked up, in the direction indicated. There were trees, a stretch of grass, then more trees, and beyond those, a small house with a chimney, that had the appearance of being abandoned.
"It'll do. No one will look here." she said.
They entered the house together. It was abandoned, as Michael had suspected, but it was clean, despite being in a state of disrepair.
Its front door led into a empty room. It had been the house's living room some years ago, now it was stripped, with only a concrete floor and chipping wall paint to boast of.
Ligur occupied the room, and was crouched down in front of the fireplace. The door had creaked when it admitted Hastur and Michael, and Ligur looked over his shoulder, a wary grin touching the corners of his lips.
"I see you made it." he addressed Michael. "Hastur here was beginn' to think you weren't coming."
"I was...held up. My apologies." Michael said primly. Ligur shrugged, and snapped his fingers, causing a small flame to jump from his fingers into the pile of dry wood in the fireplace. The wood snapped and crackled, immediately going up in flames.
The firelight cast a reddish glow on the walls and Ligur, and Michael slipped her phone into her pocket, veiling its sterile light. Hastur's hand dropped from her elbow, and she crossed the room to stand by Ligur.
"Its been a while." he said. Michael nodded, staring into the fire.
They couldn't meet like this often, for reasons that were self-explanatory. But they had come together for the first time years and years back, when Michael had instituted a link to Hell with the cooperation of Ligur.
Michael had expected only to meet with Ligur. But Hastur had come too, hovering at Ligur's elbow and glaring at Michael in a way that had clearly defined what the closeness between him and Ligur meant.
Over the years, over the phone calls, Michael had been offered that same closeness. And had accepted, for a reason she did not understand. Ligur trusted her, and she trusted him, so many years of being privy to information that was never sour tended to facilitate trust between those sharing the information.
Hastur still glared at her as he had done when they first met, and ignored her when he was not glaring at her. Which was quite acceptable in Michael's book. She didn't like Hastur much, and Hastur didn't like her much. But Ligur liked them both, and they could coexist, if only to make him...pleased.
At least, that's what they told themselves.
Ligur leaned back on his heels, sinking down cross-legged onto the floor. He patted the concrete next to him, and Michael lowered herself to the ground to sit beside him, folding her long legs up under her chin.
She continued to watch the dancing flames, and out of the corner of her eye, watched Hastur claim a patch of concrete to her left.
"How long are you staying, wank-wings?" Hastur questioned gruffly. He too was looking into the fire.
"Until the morning." Michael murmured.
"You hear that?" Hastur called past her, to Ligur. "We only have to deal with the angel until the morning."
Ligur grunted softly, but did not respond to Hastur's heckling, which was surprising for one who always had an addition or comeback to compliment Hastur waiting on his tongue.
Hastur's eyes left the flames, surreptitiously shifting in Michael's direction. She met them with a passing glance from under her eyelids, and shook her head. Hastur's eyes immediately snapped back to the writhing flames.
"I tempted a man today." Hastur began suddenly. "He was looking at his wife talk with a friend, and I put jealousy and suspicion into his heart. We'll have him soon."
Michael's brows had furrowed, and it was Hastur's turn to look out of the corner of his eyes, searching her expression for a reprimand, or outrage. But she remained silent.
"And who have you saved today?" Hastur prodded.
Michael's brows smoothed, an almost serene mask falling over her face.
"No one." she said, her voice nonchalant.
"You can't save them all." Hastur said in a voice that was meant to be gloating. It was gloating, but it fell short somehow in Hastur's ears.
"I know." Michael replied. Her tone was flat now, without even the show of indifference.
Hastur did not say anything more.
The fire was dying, and the three were now laying rather than sitting on the concrete. Michael was laying on her side, her eyes half closed. Ligur was behind her, his arm thrown over her waist, a gesture that she seemed wholly indifferent to. A few strands of her hair had somehow come loose from their severe style, trailing over her face.
Hastur was propped up on one elbow a little ways apart from them, his black eyes focused solely on them. "You two make me sick, you do." he said.
Ligur's voice was quietly amused. "You can join, if you'd like."
Hastur grunted in response.
Michael opened her eyes, her pale irises reflecting the dying fire. "You should join soon." she said softly.
Hastur snorted rudely.
"And why is that?" he asked.
Michael's eyes fell shut, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. "This can't go on...forever." Behind her, Ligur's eyes flamed a bright orange, before fading to a more moderate red. He met Hastur's gaze over Michael's shoulder, and Hastur paused, the frog on his head moving fretfully.
Ligur held his gaze, his fingers curling ever so slightly into the fabric of Michael's jacket. Hastur broke eye contact, shaking his head as if trying to ward something off. Then he moved, angling his body just a little closer to the loosely intertwined pair. He reached an arm out, and with his fingers, now somehow clean, flicked a strand of hair from Michael's forehead.
Michael's eyelids fluttered, but she did not open her eyes.
"You won't be getting rid of us that easy." Hastur growled. The corner of Michael's mouth quirked, before relaxing back into a benign state.
Hastur's hand settled on Michael's waist, just below Ligur's fingers, close enough to be touching them.
The last coal in the fireplace ebbed out at the same moment, shuttering the room in darkness.