Roads Untraveled ~ Sam Winchester

Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Three - Old Pals

At the Bunker, Michael gently knocked on Willow's bedroom door, Sam next to him with his arms crossed.
"Come in..." A soft echo of Eden's voice whispered through the door.
Michael looked up at Sam, who gave a nod. He then twisted the door handle and cautiously entered.
"Eden?" The Archangel made his presence known.
The voice wasn't one Eden had been expecting. She opened her eyes and uncurled herself from her spot on Willow's bed.
"Michael. What are you doing here? How are you here?"
"That doesn't matter. I want to help. Your daughter asked me to start by seeing if I could help you out of this grief." He replied, moving closer to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Oh, yeah?" The Dark Angel gave a pitiful scoff as she sat up. "How very generous of you. How are you gunna manage that?"
"I can suppress your grief for a time. At least make you functional again. If you want me to..." Michael offered.
Eden sighed, her eyes landing on a loose strand of Willow's hair on her pillow.
"Tell me what you need me to do..." She nodded, her voice almost a whisper.
Michael twisted himself further on the bed, letting his left leg hang over the edge.
"Sit in front of me." He instructed, softly. Eden shifted, positioning herself so that she was sat cross-legged. "Now, close your eyes. I need you to think about everyone you've lost, not just your daughter or Castiel. Everyone who's loss has caused you pain."
Eden nodded again, her eyes fluttering closed as fresh tears already filled her waterline. She thought about her mother and father when she was taken from the Garden, her brothers so distraught that they'd lost their baby sister, and when he'd heard what Cain had done to Abel. She thought of John and Mary. She thought of Alexander and the residents of Banner Elk. She thought about the first time she'd visited after Alexander had taken over; the timid, white-haired teenager she'd found in an otherwise abandoned house and how she'd blossomed so beautifully... Her Willow. Sam, Dean, Bobby, Castiel, Charlie, Eileen, Gabriel, even Lucifer.
As she thought, Michael rested his palm on her forehead. His eyes turned a glowing blue and faded back as quick as they had appeared.
Eden blinked her eyes open, looking aimlessly to various spots on the bed.
"How is that?" Michael asked.
She took her time in answering, searching through her mind.
"It feels like... Like I lost them all centuries ago." She frowned. "It's like... I miss them terribly, of course, but the pain of loosing them is numbed by time."
"Good. That was the aim. I have to be honest, I wasn't sure my powers would work on you." Michael admitted, moving to sit back on the edge of the bed properly.
"Thank you for helping me." Eden nodded, giving him a small, soft smile.
"You're welcome." The Archangel nodded.

"Hey! There she is." Dean smiled as Eden made her way into the War room. "How ya doing, Vampy Pants?"
"Good as new, more or less." She shrugged, making her way over to the map table, where Jorden was sat at the head, drawing a picture. She hummed contently as she looked at what her daughter was drawing; a child's picture of herself in the middle, holding hands with Eden and Sam, with Jack and Willow next to Eden and Dean and Castiel holding hands next to Sam, a shaggy, golden dog laying at their feet. "That's a beautiful picture, Flower. What's the dog's name?"
"Miracle. Dean saved him but Chuck made him go away..." The child stopped drawing, frowning at the dog. "I don't like Chuck..."
"Maybe one day we'll find him again." Jack smiled, hopefully.

Sam came out from the corridor, holding Chuck's death book.
"Alright, Michael." He said, throwing the book on the opposite end of the table to Jorden. "Here's the book we've been telling you about."
"That's one of Death's books." Michael observed, moving round the table with his eyes locked on the object.
"Yeah, but this one is about God. And how to kill him." Dean replied.
"As far as we know, only Death can open it." Sam added. "But, um... We're hoping maybe you can too."
The Archangel's eyes looked between the Winchesters, Jack, Eden and Jorden, who had stopped drawing to watch. Michael's eyes glowed their bright blue and he hovered a hand over the book.
His hand began to shake with strain, the lined detail on the cover shining as blue as his celestial eyes. His entire body tensed up, trying so desperately to focus until he gave up, panting heavy breaths.
"I'm sorry." He uttered.