Too High A Price?
Title: Too High A Price?
Rating: PG-13
Length: One-shot (1143 words)
Pairings: Michael/Lucifer
Era: Pre-series
Warnings: None, really (unless you count angelic kissing/holding)
Summary: You believe that it is worth everything and you will pay that price ... but it is really? Or is "everything" too high of a price to pay?
Note: Written for wordsmeetwings; prompt - 'Michael/Lucifer - I'll pay the price - whatever it is'
~*~
You stand at the edge of the Heaven, looking at the lands that stretch out over the world below. And you know it the moment that he comes up behind you. The moment that he is at your back, at your side, and you never even have to look towards him.
You have always known whenever he is there.
For a brief moment, you wonder if that will continue -- if you will always continue to know everything about him -- to always know the very second that he is near you, the very instant that his presence seeks yours out.
Because you know that now, after this moment, things will change.
There is no way that they can possibly remain the same.
And you -- selfishly -- do not want your relationship with him to be one of those things that is forced to be destroyed.
"I have to do this, Michael," you say, knowing that he hears you, even if your words are barely spoken. "I have to; you know that."
You feel his hand on your shoulder, and you turn around to face him. You stare up at him -- your older brother, your hero, your idol -- and you know that, more than anything, you do not want to leave him behind. You know what you have to do -- what your essence is telling you must be done -- but you do not want to do it alone. You don't want to do something that will cause him -- the one whom you love -- to hate you.
So, you tell him ... and you plead with him ... and you beg him.
"Please, Michael," the whispered words fall from your lips, your hands holding him as you try to make him understand. "Please, brother, see what I see. Know what I know." You feel his wings wrap around you, bring you closer to him, and you want nothing more than to stay in his embrace. Stay with him forever, where it is easy and safe and you know that he will always be there.
Where there is no doubt, whatsoever, that he will be by your side.
But this path you're on, your pride will not allow you to just walk away from it. It will not allow you to just abandon the beliefs that you so strongly feel.
Even for him.
And as he slowly steps back, and you feel his arms and wings leave you -- alone, separate -- you know that what you have feared has indeed come to pass.
"The price, Lucifer," he says, his head hanging low, as if he is ashamed to even meet your eyes as he casts you away, "is far too much for what you ask."
But you shake your head; you refuse to allow him such an feeble excuse. "Whatever the price," you say, "it doesn't matter. For this, Michael, everything is worth it."
There is silence before he speaks again, but then his words take you by surprise -- though, you realize you probably should have expected them. You gave him the opportunity, and Michael never was one to let such a moment slip by him.
"Is it really, brother?" he asks. "Is anything you need to do -- is any belief that you have to follow -- really worth everything?" He looks up and meets your eyes at that. "Because you know what will happen; you know what He will ask me to do ... And you know, Lucifer, that I will not deny Him."
You know that Michael speaks true, for you have never seen him go against your Father in any way. And the proclamations of your brother give you pause, a reply not instantly forthcoming, because even if you do know these things, even if you do understand them, the fact remains that you have to follow the path you set out on in the beginning.
Even if that means ignoring the part of you that demands the price is too high.
"Yes, Michael," you say. "It is worth everything."
He nods, the motion heavy, yet accepting. His hand traces along the side of your face, and you lean into the soft touch, your eyes sliding shut as Michael allows tendrils of his Grace to flow over to you. The logical part of you knows what he is doing, knows that he trying to get you to change your mind -- trying to get you to stay.
And you are just oh-so-very close to giving in to him.
"I do not want things to go this way, little brother," he whispers, his lips on your forehead.
You don't want to respond, don't want to break the peaceful feeling that has settled over you during these few, brief moments. Because you know, the second you speak, the closer things come to the very moment when everything changes -- and nothing will ever be the same.
But the words come of their own volition.
"Neither do I," you mutter, leaning forwards to bring yourself closer to him. You want to feel him, memorize him so as to remember him for all the time that you know is sure to pass before you see him again. "I want everything to be exactly how it was, and I ..." You pause, hesitant to continue, your fear keeping you from ever uttering the next words aloud.
But it really is a now-or-never moment.
"I never want you to think of me in the way that I know you will, in time."
"Lucifer-"
"Not you, Michael," you interrupt. "The others are one thing, but you ... I want you with me, I want things to stay the same between us, especially -- even if everything else is gone." You stare up at him beseechingly, your own hand holding his face. "Please, brother," you say. "Please ..."
His hands cup your face and he holds you close, his wings wrapping around your own form. Grace flows between the two of you, and you have no idea how much time passes before he stops stroking your face, the cease in the action bringing your attention back to his face.
That's when you see the tear.
And that's when you know.
He doesn't even have to say anything -- doesn't even have to tell you his decision -- because you can already tell just by that one, single drop of liquid. That one, single expression on his face.
"I'm sorry, Lucifer," he whispers, the words sliding right into your ear. "This -- losing everything, everyone -- may be a price that you're willing to pay. But I'm not." He kisses you one last time -- a farewell kiss, a parting kiss -- before stepping back from you once again. And this time, you know it's for the last time.
"You are on your own now, little brother."
~*~
Finite!
~Megan
Rating: PG-13
Length: One-shot (1143 words)
Pairings: Michael/Lucifer
Era: Pre-series
Warnings: None, really (unless you count angelic kissing/holding)
Summary: You believe that it is worth everything and you will pay that price ... but it is really? Or is "everything" too high of a price to pay?
Note: Written for wordsmeetwings; prompt - 'Michael/Lucifer - I'll pay the price - whatever it is'
~*~
You stand at the edge of the Heaven, looking at the lands that stretch out over the world below. And you know it the moment that he comes up behind you. The moment that he is at your back, at your side, and you never even have to look towards him.
You have always known whenever he is there.
For a brief moment, you wonder if that will continue -- if you will always continue to know everything about him -- to always know the very second that he is near you, the very instant that his presence seeks yours out.
Because you know that now, after this moment, things will change.
There is no way that they can possibly remain the same.
And you -- selfishly -- do not want your relationship with him to be one of those things that is forced to be destroyed.
"I have to do this, Michael," you say, knowing that he hears you, even if your words are barely spoken. "I have to; you know that."
You feel his hand on your shoulder, and you turn around to face him. You stare up at him -- your older brother, your hero, your idol -- and you know that, more than anything, you do not want to leave him behind. You know what you have to do -- what your essence is telling you must be done -- but you do not want to do it alone. You don't want to do something that will cause him -- the one whom you love -- to hate you.
So, you tell him ... and you plead with him ... and you beg him.
"Please, Michael," the whispered words fall from your lips, your hands holding him as you try to make him understand. "Please, brother, see what I see. Know what I know." You feel his wings wrap around you, bring you closer to him, and you want nothing more than to stay in his embrace. Stay with him forever, where it is easy and safe and you know that he will always be there.
Where there is no doubt, whatsoever, that he will be by your side.
But this path you're on, your pride will not allow you to just walk away from it. It will not allow you to just abandon the beliefs that you so strongly feel.
Even for him.
And as he slowly steps back, and you feel his arms and wings leave you -- alone, separate -- you know that what you have feared has indeed come to pass.
"The price, Lucifer," he says, his head hanging low, as if he is ashamed to even meet your eyes as he casts you away, "is far too much for what you ask."
But you shake your head; you refuse to allow him such an feeble excuse. "Whatever the price," you say, "it doesn't matter. For this, Michael, everything is worth it."
There is silence before he speaks again, but then his words take you by surprise -- though, you realize you probably should have expected them. You gave him the opportunity, and Michael never was one to let such a moment slip by him.
"Is it really, brother?" he asks. "Is anything you need to do -- is any belief that you have to follow -- really worth everything?" He looks up and meets your eyes at that. "Because you know what will happen; you know what He will ask me to do ... And you know, Lucifer, that I will not deny Him."
You know that Michael speaks true, for you have never seen him go against your Father in any way. And the proclamations of your brother give you pause, a reply not instantly forthcoming, because even if you do know these things, even if you do understand them, the fact remains that you have to follow the path you set out on in the beginning.
Even if that means ignoring the part of you that demands the price is too high.
"Yes, Michael," you say. "It is worth everything."
He nods, the motion heavy, yet accepting. His hand traces along the side of your face, and you lean into the soft touch, your eyes sliding shut as Michael allows tendrils of his Grace to flow over to you. The logical part of you knows what he is doing, knows that he trying to get you to change your mind -- trying to get you to stay.
And you are just oh-so-very close to giving in to him.
"I do not want things to go this way, little brother," he whispers, his lips on your forehead.
You don't want to respond, don't want to break the peaceful feeling that has settled over you during these few, brief moments. Because you know, the second you speak, the closer things come to the very moment when everything changes -- and nothing will ever be the same.
But the words come of their own volition.
"Neither do I," you mutter, leaning forwards to bring yourself closer to him. You want to feel him, memorize him so as to remember him for all the time that you know is sure to pass before you see him again. "I want everything to be exactly how it was, and I ..." You pause, hesitant to continue, your fear keeping you from ever uttering the next words aloud.
But it really is a now-or-never moment.
"I never want you to think of me in the way that I know you will, in time."
"Lucifer-"
"Not you, Michael," you interrupt. "The others are one thing, but you ... I want you with me, I want things to stay the same between us, especially -- even if everything else is gone." You stare up at him beseechingly, your own hand holding his face. "Please, brother," you say. "Please ..."
His hands cup your face and he holds you close, his wings wrapping around your own form. Grace flows between the two of you, and you have no idea how much time passes before he stops stroking your face, the cease in the action bringing your attention back to his face.
That's when you see the tear.
And that's when you know.
He doesn't even have to say anything -- doesn't even have to tell you his decision -- because you can already tell just by that one, single drop of liquid. That one, single expression on his face.
"I'm sorry, Lucifer," he whispers, the words sliding right into your ear. "This -- losing everything, everyone -- may be a price that you're willing to pay. But I'm not." He kisses you one last time -- a farewell kiss, a parting kiss -- before stepping back from you once again. And this time, you know it's for the last time.
"You are on your own now, little brother."
~*~
Finite!
~Megan