Work Text:
Stull Cemetery, Detroit
Lucifer didn't have to wait long before his elder sibling, Michael, made an appearance. With a slight smile, he greeted, "It's a pleasure to see you, Michael."
"Likewise," responded Michael. "It has been quite some time."
Both brothers were aware of the purpose behind their meeting, yet it didn't imply any desire to harm one another. They understood it as the unfolding of events predetermined by their father.
"Do you realize it has finally arrived?" Lucifer pondered, accompanied by a melancholic smile.
In agreement, Michael nodded and drew closer. "Honestly, it's hard to fathom," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, he inquired, "Are you prepared?"
Lucifer, too, took a deep breath and nodded. "As prepared as I can be," he answered. "A part of me wishes we didn't have to go through with this," he added, expressing sadness.
Equally disturbed, Michael nodded. "Yes, I feel the same way."
"In that case, why ARE we doing it?" Lucifer questioned.
"You know why. I have no other option... considering what you have done."
"What I have done?" Lucifer scoffed. "What if it's not my fault?!"
Perplexed, Michael tilted his head and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"Consider this for a moment. Dad orchestrated everything, which means... he deliberately shaped me into who I am," Lucifer pointed out. "God desired the existence of the Devil!" he emphasized.
"And?" Michael inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"And if that's the case, why are we being pitted against each other? I can't make sense of it," Lucifer said with a tinge of sadness.
"What are you trying to say?" Michael asked, intrigued by his younger brother's perspective.
"If Dad intended me to be the way I am, then there's no purpose in our conflict. It implies that we both have our designated roles in his grand plan. So why devise a plan that will ultimately destroy his beloved creations? We're brothers. We don't WANT to harm each other... We don't WANT to engage in a fight where one of us will perish. Let's step away from the chessboard," Lucifer insisted.
"But... I have always been a dutiful son. If I were to follow your suggestion, I would be disobeying Father," Michael exclaimed, finding it hard to accept that there was a part of him considering such defiance.
"Father's initial command was to protect ALL of his creations. Only later did he formulate the plan for the apocalypse, which would make us fight. I believe it is more sensible to adhere to his earlier directive than the latter. It's a matter of logic," Lucifer argued.
"Look, Lu..." Michael's words trailed off as a familiar Impala rolled into the cemetery, blaring loud music.
Both Michael and Lucifer stared in bewilderment as Dean Winchester parked his car a few feet away from them, nonchalantly stepping out.
"Hey there, fellas," Dean greeted them casually, as if it were the most ordinary encounter. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?" he inquired, feigning ignorance. Seeing no response from either Archangel, he walked to the front of the car and directed his attention to Lucifer. "Hey, we need to have a chat," he said.
Lucifer and Michael exchanged a puzzled glance, silently communicating their thoughts of 'What's wrong with this guy?'
Shaking his head in disbelief, Lucifer couldn't help but wear an amused smile. "Dean... even for you, this is a whole new level of foolishness."
"I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Sam," Dean replied.
"You are no longer the vessel, Dean. YOU have no right to be here," Michael sternly reminded him.
"Adam, if you're in there somewhere, I apologize," Dean expressed, addressing his younger half-brother.
"Adam is currently absent," Michael dryly pointed out.
"Well, then I just need five minutes with him," Dean insisted, pointing towards Sam's body.
Michael grew angry. He and Lucifer were engrossed in an important conversation, and this insignificant human was wasting their time. "You insignificant worm! You are no longer part of this narrative!" he growled at Dean, stepping closer. His focus on Dean prevented him from noticing the presence of another angel and a human in the cemetery.
Suddenly, a voice called out from the other side, shouting, "HEY ASSBUTT!"
Michael turned his head to see Castiel, holding something in his hand. Before he could react, Castiel threw the Molotov cocktail, containing holy oil, at him. Michael felt the scorching flames of holy fire envelop him before he abruptly disappeared from the scene.
Lucifer stood there, utterly shocked and disbelieving of what had just transpired. He couldn't fathom what his eyes had witnessed. He turned to face the seraph standing before him, a mixture of shock and confusion on his face.
Dean's reaction mirrored Lucifer's bewilderment, albeit with a particular focus on Castiel's unusual choice of profanity. "Assbutt?" he questioned, seeking clarification.
Cas shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "He'll be back... and probably pissed. You had your five minutes."
Lucifer's anger grew as he realized that their younger brother had harmed their elder brother due to the actions of this foolish, thick-headed human. "Castiel?! Did you just Molotov our brother... with holy fire?" he scowled at his younger brother, his expression turning dark as he stepped closer to the seraph.
Castiel wore an uneasy smile, taking a step back. "Um... NO?" he hesitantly replied, shaking his head.
"No one messes with Michael... except me," Lucifer growled. He snapped his fingers, causing Castiel to vanish from his position, only to reappear in close proximity to Lucifer.
Dean and Bobby leaped into action, ready to defend their angel, but Lucifer surprised both humans with his next action.
Lucifer firmly held onto Castiel's ear, scolding him in a stern voice, "What on earth were you thinking, little brother? That holy oil could have spilled and set you ablaze! Have you lost your mind!?"
Castiel winced, unaccustomed to physical punishment like this. In heaven, his penalties would involve reprogramming rather than physical contact. However, as an archangel, Lucifer had the ability to touch Castiel's vessel and his grace simultaneously. "Ouch!" he muttered, struggling against Lucifer's grip. "Brother, that hurts! Let go!" he exclaimed in a panicked tone as Lucifer twisted his ear.
"That's the whole point, you imbecile! Have you completely forgotten the concept of self-preservation by spending time with these Winchesters? Playing with holy oil, of all things!" Lucifer scolded.
"Um... am I the only one seeing this?" Dean whispered to Bobby.
"I'll be damned if I ain't seeing the same thing," Bobby muttered, his eyes widening as he stared ahead.
Michael reappeared, radiating fury. "YOU! You brainless fledgling! How dare you toy with those dangerous substances! Didn't they teach you in heaven about the perils of holy oil?!" he demanded answers. "And you used profanity! You're an ANGEL! You do NOT use profanities!" he added, flinging his hands up in frustration.
"Um... ah... huh?" Castiel was utterly confused. He was certain his brothers would be furious with him for interrupting their altercation, but somehow, he had managed to make himself the target of their overprotective brotherly rage. A part of him, deep inside, rejoiced at being scolded like a young boy by his older brothers. As a fledgling when Lucifer fell, he only remembered the mechanical nature of heaven—having bosses and superiors. But he had never experienced the bond of siblings like they were supposed to have.
"And it's not even a clever curse word. 'Assbutt' is just a redundant combination of 'ass' and 'butt'," Lucifer pointed out, rolling his eyes.
"These youngsters, I swear! Take your eyes off them for a moment, and they get up to mischief!" Michael grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Forget the mischief. Look at his wings! Look what he's done to them!" Lucifer exclaimed, picking up one of Castiel's disheveled and untidy wings to inspect.
"Oh, Father! His wings are as unkempt as Gabriel's used to be when he would escape to Earth for his antics," Michael lamented, feeling a pang of distress at the sight of his younger brother's neglected wings. "Speaking of Gabriel, did you truly kill our brother?" he asked, as if the thought had suddenly crossed his mind.
"No. I bound his wings together and trapped him in a time loop where he receives an electric shock each time he attempts to escape. I didn't want him to disrupt today's fight," Lucifer dryly replied.
"You should have done the same to this one," Michael said, glaring at Castiel. "What do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded from the young seraph.
"Um... sorry for calling you an 'Assbutt'?" Castiel muttered, shrugging sheepishly.
"And?" Lucifer prodded, narrowing his eyes as he tightened his grip on Castiel's ear.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch... fine! I'm sorry for throwing a Molotov at you," Castiel admitted to Michael, wincing in pain.
"Didn't your superiors teach you proper behavior? Is that how you should be treating your commander?" Michael asked firmly.
"Sorry to state the obvious, but in the absence of parents, it's the responsibility of older siblings to look after their younger siblings. I guess... you arrogant archangels were too preoccupied with planning for the apocalypse to care for your younger brothers and sisters," Dean taunted loudly. "Even though I'm your vessel, I never neglected my younger brother. I took care of him when I barely knew how to take care of myself," he added, a smug tone in his voice.
Michael listened to Dean's words contemplatively. He furrowed his brow as he realized the truth in what this human was saying. In his pursuit to fulfill their father's plan, he had neglected his younger siblings. Unlike Dean, he hadn't taken a moment to consider how they were being raised in their father's absence. "Is he right?" he asked Castiel. "Did we archangels truly fail our younger ones?"
"You were not there to guide us. We grew up as puppets, treated like soldiers by our superiors. I don't think even they knew any better," Castiel replied softly.
Michael turned to Lucifer. "How did I fail our siblings?" he inquired.
"I suppose... as a big brother, it wasn't solely your responsibility. I was too consumed with rebelling against Dad that I forgot to focus on caring for our younger siblings, apart from hating His new creations. All four of us should have taken that responsibility," Lucifer admitted with guilt.
"Do you think... um... maybe we should... you know..." Michael stumbled over his words, scratching his head. In Adam's body, Michael appeared more like a college boy than a being with millions of years of existence.
"We should what?" Lucifer was perplexed. He had never seen his older brother so flustered before.
"We could both return to Heaven and attempt to mend our family. We'll bring Gabriel with us," Michael shared his plan.
"And how do you intend to explain this decision to the garrisons when they question you?" Lucifer inquired.
Michael grinned. "You'll claim it was your idea to refrain from fighting, and Father forgave you for it. So, we're returning home together," he replied.
Lucifer stared at his brother, unsure of how to respond. "Um... alright, I suppose," he reluctantly agreed. "But you do realize that Father never actually forgave me," he pointed out the obvious.
"People lie all the time, and nothing happens to them. I'm confident that he will forgive me for lying this once when he sees our family reunited and intact," Michael stated with assurance, although he wasn't entirely convinced himself.
"Well, it's your ass on the line," Lucifer shrugged.
"Let's go!" With those words, Michael disappeared, taking Lucifer and Castiel with him. Sam fell to the ground, disoriented.
Dean and Bobby stood there, mouths agape in astonishment. "So, all they had to do was talk?" Dean exclaimed, unable to believe it.
"What a bunch of feathered idjits!" Bobby grumbled before he and Dean went to help Sam up from the ground.
"What just happened here?" Sam asked, looking around for the other archangel inhabiting their half-brother's body.
"Um... we're not entirely sure," Dean replied with a shrug.