Reunited And It Feels So Good

1

Michael still regrets the day he struck down his twin Samael, resulting in the latter's fall to the fiery pits. It wasn't his intention; he just wanted his brother to stop the war from progressing further, but both parties were enraged, so Michael did what he thought was the right thing to do.

The commotion stopped as the rest of the rebels were thrown out of the Silver City.

Michael wanted to check on his twin after the fiasco, but he couldn't bring himself to do so, perhaps due to his guilt or shame; he's unsure. But when he's finally ready to bridge the gap between them, thousands of years have already passed.

xxxx

Michael's been watching Lucifer's progress ever since the devil abdicated his throne, and he wanted more than anything to help this time around; bring one Chloe Decker back to Los Angeles. It wasn't that hard to tail a human, but he couldn't get as close as he wanted because he and Lucifer had the same exact face. So he watches over her. Her every move.

And it irked him how easily she's swayed by a fanatic — a specialist sent by the Vatican or so he claims — despite having spent years with Lucifer. Yet, to err is human, he supposed. He must put a stop to this, one way or another.

xxxx

Chloe and Kinley are seated on the pews, with the latter hell-bent on convincing the former that she has to go through with the plan: to banish the devil from Earth.

Michael's been listening to him whine about a prophecy, which is complete and utter bullshit for him, but what he couldn't believe is how easily he manipulated the Detective to agree.

He's heard enough. He's not going to stand idly by this time around.

"Well!" The archangel exclaimed, copying Lucifer's accent. Their heads turned to the sound so fast it made Michael smile. He can sense the fear from the Detective, but the priest is something else. "Someone's been naughty,"

"Lucifer, what are you doing here?"

"Does it matter? To think I've been drowning myself in booze for the past weeks hoping you'd come to terms with the truth, yet here you are planning my demise."

"No, it's not like that,"

"Oh? So you're not sending me back to Hell?"

"I —"

"I'm quite disappointed with you, Detective. I thought we were friends, partners, even."

"You don't understand, I —"

"I suppose we can talk about it someday. But, don't ever lie to me again, Detective. As for you, Padrè, we both know where you're headed; I guess I'll see you down there...sooner rather than later, I hope."

"I am doing God's work!"

"Sure, you are," Michael said mockingly, imagining how Lucifer would say it, dripping with sarcasm. "Lovely chat, but I must get going."

The archangel turned his back, but Kinley had other plans.

"You're going to drink the liquid from the vial, or I'm going to kill her," The priest starts, and Michael whips around, a smirk on his face until he sees the former has his arms around the Detective, and it's super annoying.

Michael scoffs, "Surely, this isn't God's work? Threatening to kill His beloved creation?"

"Sacrifices must be made for the better good!"

"Oh, Padrè, you've clearly lost your marbles. See, this is what I'm talking about, Detective. True believers like him are mere fanatics; just look at how fast he turned on you just to get what he wants. But he won't get it."