Chapter Text
The room felt cold, normally something he didn’t even notice anymore unless he decided to. Being an archangel came with its perks. If he wanted to maintain a toasty inner climate, well, that was completely his choice.
Today, though, he’d expressly requested the chill of the room and he let himself feel it. It was just enough to be irritating and catch someone’s attention, but not too cold to freeze them out. Just like any other interrogation room he’d been put inside of before. Except this wasn’t the usual police station.
No, this was the interrogation room of a much higher authority.
Michael watched the angel inside the room, letting her sit and stew for a bit longer. Without her human vessel, she mimicked her True Vessel’s features. Somewhere from German ancestry, long blonde hair and eyes that shimmered between blue and green. Right now, they were also filled with a great deal of trepidation, locked on the door, waiting for someone to come to her as she sat on a white chair in front of a white table.
He left her alone a little bit more. Besides, he was waiting on someone.
As if summoned, Raphael appeared at his side. Michael raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought your vessel needed the weekend,” he said.
“She did, and she will,” Raphael agreed. “She wanted to be here for this, though. As she so succinctly put it, “I’m tired of getting updates second-hand.” So. She’s here.”
Michael felt his mouth pull into a smirk that was all the other part of him. He was content to be that other part, especially with the little brother who was still on Earth, but he’d needed to be Michael, avenging archangel, here in Heaven.
Then he could be Dean Winchester, avenging big brother, all he wanted.
“I like her,” Michael told him. “Toni’s a good sport.”
“She is, yes,” Raphael agreed. “I would have been here sooner if I hadn’t had to keep the other two busy.”
He straightened at that. “Gabe-?”
“Has Lucifer contained and busy on Earth. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about the fact that we were doing this without him, but he understood needing to keep Lucifer busy.”
Lucifer in Heaven wasn’t the best of ideas right now. They’d ultimately all agreed to keep Lucifer out of Heaven for the time being until they figured out what was really going on. Michael didn’t like it, Dean even less so, but Luce had been adamant. “Last thing we need is to cause a ruckus,” he’d said in that annoyingly calm manner of his. “Once we’ve made sure everyone is clear of any reeducation, then we can reintroduce me as Not Evil Incarnate.”
The memory brought a smile to Michael’s face. “Ready?” Raphael asked.
“Almost. Where’s Cas?”
“He wouldn’t answer his phone,” Raphael said, making a face. “Only when I called out through the Host did he respond, and very briefly at that to tell me he was busy and would contact you soon.”
“Vague,” Michael said, and he could take a few guesses why. Everyone could hear what was said over angel radio if they were tuned in. Which meant…
Nothing he could focus on at the moment. For the time being, he had his hands full with this. He gave Raphael a short nod and together they entered the cold room.
The angel immediately straightened, fear only growing. Yet there was also awe there as she gazed at Michael. “It really is you,” she breathed. “You’ve returned to us, Michael. And in your rightful vessel.”
He wasn’t touching that. “Sidria,” he greeted tersely, resting his hands on the table. It was nice to be on this side of the interrogation table for once. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Sidria shook her head, and he could sense her honest confusion. That had to be part of her fear. “I, I didn’t harm Gabriel,” she began, clearly guessing as to why she was there. “When he told me to go I went-“
“And that’s why you’re here and not a chalk outline,” he said. She tilted her head, clearly not understanding the reference, and he forced himself to walk back the Earth sayings. Michael, he needed to be Michael, the oldest archangel in history, not the human hunter.
Thankfully Raphael stepped in. “Sidria, why were you there?”
“I was ordered,” she said. “Zachariah had asked some of the Host if we would be willing to stand up against the disorder, to halt the second rebellion before it began. It…was a small contingent of us. I was added primarily because he wanted even numbers,” she admitted, hanging her head in shame. “I’m afraid I didn’t follow orders as best as I could. This was my second chance.”
She glanced up, tears in her eyes. “Have…have I failed?”
She had no clue about anything that was going on. “You didn’t take orders from Raphael,” Michael confirmed. Raphael had said as much and he trusted his brother, but if she’d been told-
“No, not that I was informed,” she said, glancing at Raphael. “If I was supposed to and haven’t, I apologize-“
“There were no orders from me. Who else led you?” Raphael said kindly.
She sat up a little straighter at the affirmation that she hadn’t missed orders from Raphael. “Naomi would give guidance,” she said. “But it was usually from Zachariah to Naomi. We knew to follow them both.”
“What second rebellion?”
She leaned forward, as if eager to finally have a ready answer. “Zachariah said that it was a small group of angels that were infecting the Host, talking about rebelling, Falling, to join with Lucifer’s forces. That they would make humanity even more powerful. Though,” and she frowned, “I didn’t understand how that could be. Humanity has never had the power to ruin angels, and we are meant to be here for humanity.”
Her eyes went wide in sudden fear. “I-I don’t mean to question anything, of course-“
She had always been a good sort, and now Michael was even more certain that Sidria had been another pawn for Zachariah to use. “You’re not doing anything wrong,” he assured her, stepping down from the bad cop side of things. “In fact, I’m glad you questioned it. We are meant to protect humanity. That’s kinda our gig.”
Her shoulders dropped a solid two inches in relief. Raphael reached over and rested his hand on her head, and when he glanced at Michael, it was with pain. So she’d been reeducated at some point, too. “May I go?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes, with Raphael,” he told her. “He wants to check you over, make sure your Grace is all right. Let him look you over and then follow his instructions.”
Sidria stood and began to follow Raphael, then stopped and quickly ran back to Michael, embracing him. Michael blinked for a minute, then wrapped his arms around her. “We have missed you,” she whispered. “I am grateful to have you and Raphael and Gabriel back. I wish…”
She paused, biting her lip, and Michael raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. “I wish you were four strong again, not just three,” she finally said, voice very, very quiet.
Michael began to smile. It would be nice to have another angel on their side, and it sounded like Sidria would make a good addition to the team, especially when it came time to bring Lucifer back upstairs. “We may be yet,” he said. “Let Raphael tend to you now.”
As they left, Michael’s phone rang. He tugged it out and answered without looking. “Yeah?”
“Denver, Colorado. Dean, I have him.”
That was all he needed to move from Michael to Dean. Raphael stopped at the door, lips pursed as he caught Castiel’s words. “I’m coming to you as fast as I can,” Dean told Castiel. “Stay put.”
“Believe me, he’s not moving anytime soon. Take your time.” Castiel almost sounded smug about it.
Despite himself, Dean grinned. “You incapacitated him?”
“Severely.”
Well that sounded promising. “Then I’ll grab Gabe and Sam first.” He glanced at Raphael. “You okay up here?”
“I’ll expect to know what happens,” Raphael said. His eyes flashed blue. “I want answers, Dean.”
So did he. “Call me if you need me,” Dean told him, and he gathered his wings to him and dove down to Bobby’s, where Gabriel and Sam were waiting.
This had been a long time in coming.
The instant Dean flew back into the living room, eyes bright green and angry but triumphant, Sam knew. Wings or not, this wasn’t Michael, ready to be the steady and sure archangel with a hand full of vengeance. No, this was Dean, pissed-off big brother who’d finally gotten a hand on the school bully.
And Sam was absolutely ready to be the little brother, standing behind his big brother, sticking his tongue out at the bully while thinking, You’re gonna get it now.
Dean gave a feral grin. “Oh yeah,” he said. “He is.”
“Answers first,” Gabriel said, setting aside the book he’d been working to get back into the bookshelves. It had been a monotonous task, helping Bobby rearrange his shelves, and one that Sam knew had been designed to keep him busy. But with Bobby and Gabriel as companions, the work had been fun, not tedious, and he couldn’t fault them for trying to keep him distracted from Michael’s task in Heaven.
Which, speaking of-
“Answers first,” Dean agreed. “And I’ll tell you what I found out later. Let’s just say Gabe made the good call to let her live. We going or what?”
“I’m stayin’,” Bobby said. “I actually do have books to sort through. ‘Preciate the help, though. Now go give that asshole a good kick for me.”
“Your wish is my command,” Gabriel said cheerfully, and his wings unfurled. Sam rolled his shoulders and found his wings light and ready to move. One of them even twitched in anticipation, desperate to get this done.
Dean snorted in amusement. “Easy, Twitch,” he teased, but his own wings moved restlessly. “Let’s go.”
He took off first, ever the leader, and Gabriel flew right behind him. With a deep breath Sam furled his wings and then shot off, still unable to understand just how light his six wings were. They were bright, so bright they were nearly translucent, with ebony just on the other side when they spread out to full extension. Every time they caught the light they shone, and some days he couldn’t honestly believe they were his, these beautiful, breathtaking wings.
Then there were the days where he remembered when they were just bright, no dark colors anywhere on them. He fought to hold on to the wondrous feeling and not focus on the loss that visibly showed now every time he flew.
Gabriel’s gold shimmered ahead of him, and Dean’s own wings were nearly as bright as Sam’s, whiter than his like a pearl, a deep gold edging every feather. His wings were perfect, like they always had been.
They were over Colorado now, some part of him knew, and he followed the others down to the ground. Two bright Graces shown up at him, and he knew one instantly as Castiel’s. The other…
They landed outside an old farmhouse and barn, hidden away up in the mountains. The house was empty and had been for quite some time, if the state of it was anything to go by, and the grass ran tall around his legs. The gently swish-swish helped settle some of his anxiety. He felt stupid for it: he was stronger, faster, more powerful than the angel they were about to face.
Nobody said anxiety made sense, though. Because as much as he wanted this moment, as much as they’d been desperate for this moment ever since everything had gone down two weeks ago, this meant they might have answers. And honestly, every facet of Sam, of Lucifer, was terrified of what those answers would be.
A light caress gently settled some of the feathers in his wings. The movement helped settle even more of his nerves. “You fly too fast,” Dean said quietly, the tip of his wing still smoothing down more feathers. “You always did. Your feathers wouldn’t look like this if you actually flew the way you were supposed to.”
Sam found his lips turning up. “Yeah, but that’s not nearly as much fun. And you’re one to talk, mister let’s-go-thirty-above-the-speed-limit.”
“Yeah, but that’s a car,” Dean said, grinning. “And my baby can handle it. It’s not my body, my legs, my wings.”
“My wings can handle it just fine,” Sam said, but he knew where Dean’s real concern was. He nudged his wing against Dean’s. “I’m okay, Dean.”
Dean pursed his lips and looked him over for a moment, and Sam let his Grace and soul do the real talking. Anxious, yes, but determined, and so past ready for this moment.
After a moment, Dean nodded, and they headed towards the barn.
Gabriel was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. His Grace was easy to read, and it was hot and angry and ready to do some smiting. “Answers first,” Sam reminded him.
Gabriel snorted. “He can bleed and talk at the same time.” He pushed the door open and together they stepped inside.
The barn itself wasn’t as overgrown as the outside, the dirt path still visible through the center of the barn. Two old tractors sat in the corner, both rusted and beyond use. The stalls were filled with old hay that smelled musty and moldy, and Sam was never happier for his archangel status that let him try and filter some of it out. If he’d been just human, he’d have definitely gotten sick from the smell alone.
Castiel stood in the middle of the room, head held high, triumph in his eyes. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Lit by the moonlight through the open loft doors above, the middle of the barn stood out brightly. And there, seated on a wooden chair, slouched over and still clearly unconscious, was Zachariah.
Sam glanced at the dimmed Grace and wasn’t surprised to see Enochian-binding manacles on his wrists. Castiel had been carrying those for a while now, ever since Zachariah had done his runner. The other angel wasn’t going anywhere.
Not that he was conscious to even appreciate his lack of mobility. Sam raised an eyebrow at the two bruises running along each side of Zachariah’s face.
“When you said ‘severely incapacitated’, you meant it,” Dean said, sounding impressed.
“Yes, well. He pissed me off,” Castiel said. He scowled at Zachariah. “Finding him took far longer than I’d originally intended.”
“But you got it done,” Gabriel said. “Kudos, kiddo.”
Sam found himself looking at the angel. Not even a month ago, Zachariah had been trying to convince Dean to become Michael’s vessel, orchestrating for their death at the hands of Pestilence, attempting to kill Bobby and Castiel, and kidnapping and torturing Sam. He’d been larger than life, powerful and frightening.
Now, though, he just looked…small. Even without the dimmed Grace he didn’t appear as anything more than another being to deal with. Being an archangel gave some perspective, he supposed, on what power really looked like.
It was hard to think that Zachariah had managed to tear Heaven apart, reeducate a whole fleet of angels, and nearly destroy the world. He’d done his best to rip them apart, too. Even after all this time, even after knowing full well that the voicemail wasn’t real, part of him remembered first hearing it. First believing it. Truly believing that Dean would and could kill him.
It made him ache to think about, still. And the Lucifer part of him ached at the memory as well, remembering the Cage and the cold and how he’d nearly lost Michael.
You’re not losing me.
Typically, they stayed out of each other’s thoughts. It was easy to do; they’d spent years as humans with the inability to hear thoughts along the celestial wavelength. They could read each other pretty well without it.
But Sam had to admit that every now and then, it was nice to have his brother weigh in when he himself couldn’t find the words.
You hear me?
I hear you, he sent back. Dean was watching him with an open look of worry and determination. I just…
I know. And I’ll keep telling you for as long as I need to, little brother. You’re stuck with me.
Some of the anxiety eased, allowing him to stand a little taller. Dean gave a brief smile and a nod. You good? Dean asked.
Zachariah slowly raised his head and blinked in the dim light, and Sam gave a tight grin. Will be in a minute.
“Yeah,” Dean said out loud. “We both will.”
At his voice, Zachariah jerked his head upright. “Michael?” he asked. “Hey, listen-“
“I’d prefer ‘Dean’,” Dean told him. “Particularly since this offense dates back to when I was 100% pure Winchester.”
Zachariah stared, then let his eyes quickly dart around the room, taking in the rest of them. He landed on Lucifer and his lips pulled up into a snarl. “I should’ve known you’d forgive him everything,” he said disdainfully, as if he couldn’t help himself. “You were always too soft on him, even after everything he did.”
“Most of which he got blamed for wrongfully, thanks for the reminder,” Dean pointed out. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
“If it wasn’t him, then who?” Zachariah said. “He corrupted everyone!”
“No. That was you.” Castiel stepped forward and cracked his knuckles, making Zachariah jump. Sam hadn’t even thought Castiel knew how to crack his knuckles. “You put all of us under the needle, including Raphael himself. What we want to know is why.”
Zachariah pursed his lips and glared at Castiel. Gabriel stepped forward then, eyes flaring gold. “I believe he asked you a question,” he purred, voice light but everything else radiating danger.
Instead of answering, Zachariah turned to Sam, and the slow smile he gave set all of Sam’s nerves on edge. “You know, I actually could appreciate what Lucifer wanted to do,” he said. “Wipe out humanity. Give it another roll and see what the next monkeys looked like. And hey, torturing angels, bending them to your will, it could’ve worked out for you in the long run.”
Sam froze. He’d never done that. He, he would’ve remembered. In an instant Lucifer recalled everything he’d ever done, and torturing angels didn’t come to light. His entire memory was crystal clear-
Except, it wasn’t.
“Quit placing your deeds on Lucifer,” Castiel snapped. “You defiled Heaven.”
“You defiled Heaven,” Zachariah seethed. “You didn’t follow orders! Angels are supposed to follow orders!”
“Whose orders?” Dean asked, voice dangerously low. “Because that line you fed us about Raphael pulling the strings is crap. You manipulated Raphael. Any orders you got from him were ones you’d basically given him yourself.”
Zachariah slowly shook his head. “You lower yourself, Michael. Of all the angels, the fact that you aligned with these monkeys is more than I can stomach.”
They were getting nowhere. Zachariah kept sidestepping every single one of their questions, and it was giving Sam a very bad feeling in his gut. One that grew the instant that Dean got into Zachariah’s face, eyes flaring green. “If you won’t give me the answers I need, then I can demonstrate my years of experience in the Pit,” he said. “Alistair was a hell of an instructor with some interesting methods.”
“Dean.”
It was all he needed to say. Dean slowly took a step back from Zachariah, though not before the other angel had gone pale. Still, Zachariah managed to get out, “And who do you think Alistair learned it from?”
“Cain,” Gabriel said. “Quit being a douche and tell us what we want to know.”
“And where did Cain learn it from?” Zachariah said, and his eyes went straight to Sam. Sam glared at him and tried to seek out his archangel Grace to calm himself. The Grace, however, was just as pissed off as he was, and Lucifer wouldn’t have minded a minute or two alone with Zachariah.
“It’s pathetic,” Zachariah spat. “Every single one of you will always forgive Lucifer his transgressions, but the instant another angel tries to step up to the plate, tries to remove the bad influence and set Heaven straight-“
Gabriel let out a laugh. “I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me that you were the savior of Heaven?”
“I stayed faithful!” Zachariah exclaimed. He glared at Sam again but Sam didn’t care. Not anymore. The idea that arranging humanity’s demise, pitting two brothers against each other, and reeducating the entire garrison of angels was faithful just made him want to be sick.
“None of you were here!” he continued. “We were going to make Heaven a better place, the better place! Not Hell, not Earth, but Heaven, the way it was to be originally. We’re the better everything! We deserved that! And I would’ve been a better archangel than any of you!”
Dean leaned in again, but it was with the righteous wrath of Michael as he stood tall and towered over Zachariah. “Who is we?” Michael asked. “Answer me, Zachariah.”
Zachariah cowered but still glared defiantly. “You could have been the greatest of all the angels,” he told Michael. “All you had to do was follow orders.”
Suddenly he sprang up from the chair and gave a roar. He kicked Michael back and Lucifer immediately slid his blade free, eyes red and furious. Zachariah, hands still bound, was already at the back doors of the barn and had one halfway open. Gabriel was a step behind Lucifer as they gave chase.
Zachariah lurched to a stop in an instant as Michael appeared before him, Grace bright and powerful and angry. “You defiled the name of Heaven, of angels, killed our brethren, and all to exalt yourself,” Michael said, green eyes bright and full of rage. “But do you know what your greatest sin was?”
He caught Zachariah by the shoulder and Lucifer watched as Zachariah’s Grace suddenly flared. A moment later he saw Michael’s blade pierce through the other angel’s back. When Lucifer raised his eyes back to his brother, it was Dean at the forefront. “You made him doubt me,” he hissed. “You made him fear me, you son of a bitch.”
Zachariah’s eyes went impossibly wider, and an instant later, his Grace exploded into nothing. When Lucifer could see again, Zachariah lay on the ground, dead.
He stared at the being that had almost put the Apocalypse in motion and found himself feeling empty. It should’ve felt like a victory. A lack of worrying about the future. This was supposed to be a good moment.
Instead, all Lucifer could feel was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right. They still had questions that needed answering. This isn’t over.
Never mind the questions that he now had thanks to Zachariah. Torturing angels, bending them to your will… And where did Cain learn it from? Who do you think Alistair learned it from?
Zachariah had been so adamant, even in the midst of Michael’s unwavering support. The worst part was that Lucifer…didn’t remember. He’d gotten all of his memory back, all of the worst parts of the Cage, the good times before, but the parts when he’d had the Mark, it was…vague. Cloudy. It felt a lot like when Meg had possessed him. He’d remembered a lot of it, but not all of it. And now, now he had no real clue if he’d done the things he’d been accused of or not.
“Luce?”
Lucifer blinked and glanced up. Gabriel, Castiel, and Michael were all watching him, worry clear in their eyes. “You back?” Michael asked.
“Back?” he asked numbly. “Where did I go?”
“Somewhere,” Gabriel summed up. “We’ve been calling for a while. I mean, I’m used to being ignored, but-“
“Oh, shut up,” Lucifer told him, giving him a grin. Gabriel just shrugged but he looked less tense than he had been before. Castiel, too, seemed more relaxed. Only Michael kept watching him, concern making his brows knit together.
“What do we do with him?” Lucifer asked. The hunter part of him wanted to salt and burn the remains, but the angel part of him knew it wasn’t worth the time.
“Take him back up to Heaven, hang him as an example?” Gabriel asked whimsically. Castiel actually looked very interested in the idea.
“Ease off,” Michael warned, but his lips turned up. “Castiel, make sure the vessel’s soul got to where it needed to go, and take the body to where kin can find it. Gabe, you want to update Raphael, or should I?”
“Go back to Singer’s. I’ll do it. Take Space-Case with you.”
“Watch it,” Lucifer warned. “I’m still older than you.”
Gabriel made a face. “I sort of really hate that that’s true again, y’know.” He took off, wings taking him nearly halfway to Heaven in a single flap. Fastest flier of them all.
When he blinked, Castiel and Zachariah’s vessel were already gone, and Michael stood before him. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, still clearly worried. “You keep spacing out.”
“Just tired,” he said, and Lucifer gave way to Sam. “Guess that doesn’t change whether you’re an archangel or not.”
His brother snorted, all Dean. “Yeah. Let’s go back, update Bobby-“
“On what? Dean, we didn’t even get any answers.”
Dean made a face. “Even that’s sort of an answer, though. Zachariah’s gone, and he was protecting someone. He didn’t do this all on his own, and his ignoring the question just made it all the more obvious.”
That was a good point. One that Sam couldn’t believe he’d missed. “You really are tired,” Dean said, and though it was with a grin, the worry was evident. Worry and concern and, above it all, love, came through as a flood of emotions. It made Sam smile. It felt like he was being embraced by his brother’s wings, something Michael had done constantly before the Cage. A good memory, one that he could have any time he wanted now.
A wing instantly wrapped around him and held him tight. “You could’ve asked,” Dean said quietly. He brushed a hand against Sam’s cheek and pushed hair back. “You want me to carry you back? It’s not like you’ve had a ton of flying practice lately.”
“I’m all right,” Sam promised, but he still leaned into both hand and wing. “Maybe follow me back?”
Dean gave him a warm smile. “Always, little brother.”