It Would Always Be Wrong
Title: It Would Always Be Wrong
Rating: PG
Length: One-shot (654 words)
Pairings: Michael/Lucifer
Era: Pre-series
Warnings: None
Summary: It didn't matter how "right" things may have felt ... for a time.
Note: Written for wordsmeetwings; prompt - 'Michael/Lucifer - Two wrongs don't make a right'
~*~
Neither of them admitted to themselves that it was wrong that very first time.
Or, at least, that it should be wrong ...
Maybe?
Because a feeling as good as this was, something that was as nice and perfect and right as it felt ... it just couldn't be that way.
Could it?
Each and every day, every single time it happened, there was a part of them that whispered, that hinted, that quietly told each one of them, "No. It really can't be right."
And that's how and why they knew that it was wrong.
But they still couldn't bring themselves to admit it.
Not that first time ... Or the second ... Or the third ... Or any of the others that happened afterwards.
No matter what they thought they knew, what that part of themselves kept trying to tell them, they could never force themselves to face what neither of them never wanted to see.
Not when he allowed his wings to enclose around his brother, the smooth white feathers sheltering him from everything in Heaven, Hell, Earth, wherever. Sheltering and protecting him from everything that was in his power to do so. Not when he sent his Grace twinding around the younger angel's own glimmering essence, the two brightest beings in all of Heaven merging and joining together ... alone.
**
When he listened to that part of him that told him it was wrong, that things were not meant to be this way -- that protecting and caring for the Morningstar had gone too far, had been twisted beyond the purpose that had first been intended of him -- he didn't know what to do.
And he started to feel things, emotions that had never before ran through his angelic being.
He felt ... confused.
He felt ... lost.
He felt ... pain.
And so he sought help. He sought guidance and clarity from the one who knew everything, from the one who had never disappointed him, from the one who he knew, in every fragment of his being, would never lead him astray.
For why would his Father ever tell him a lie? Why would his Father ever have reason to cause him pain?
No. He had no reason to think these things of his Father. His Father, he knew, could -- and would -- only help him, as any father would a struggling, confused, wondering child.
But when his Father actually spoke to him, actually told him what he had to do and what his destiny held for him ... the pain did not lessen.
Not at all.
Instead ...
It grew.
And grew.
And grew.
It didn't stop growing ...
**
Until he went back to the Morningstar, where everything that he had been told by that doubting voice -- that he had first thought for that brief moment was so wrong -- had never felt so absolutely right.
Where he sent his Grace out to connect with his brother's, where his wings went to stroke and wrap around the ebony feathers of Lucifer's own, and where he never felt so at peace.
He looked upon the brightest of them all, and he knew, deep down -- somewhere -- that surely, in this instance, his Father could not be correct--
And at that moment, he realized where his thoughts, his feelings, his ideas were heading.
Once again ... everything was starting to feel wrong.
For how could he have even thought to doubt his own Father!
Even for ...
He met the bright blue gaze of the younger angel, a relaxed smile pulling at his lips to match that of his little brother's.
And though a spark of pain flickered inside him, he bit it back, because now, he knew.
No ... not even for him could Michael bring himself to go that far.
It didn't matter, he knew, how "right" things may have felt ... for a time.
In the end, the answer would always be the same.
It would always be wrong.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan
Rating: PG
Length: One-shot (654 words)
Pairings: Michael/Lucifer
Era: Pre-series
Warnings: None
Summary: It didn't matter how "right" things may have felt ... for a time.
Note: Written for wordsmeetwings; prompt - 'Michael/Lucifer - Two wrongs don't make a right'
~*~
Neither of them admitted to themselves that it was wrong that very first time.
Or, at least, that it should be wrong ...
Maybe?
Because a feeling as good as this was, something that was as nice and perfect and right as it felt ... it just couldn't be that way.
Could it?
Each and every day, every single time it happened, there was a part of them that whispered, that hinted, that quietly told each one of them, "No. It really can't be right."
And that's how and why they knew that it was wrong.
But they still couldn't bring themselves to admit it.
Not that first time ... Or the second ... Or the third ... Or any of the others that happened afterwards.
No matter what they thought they knew, what that part of themselves kept trying to tell them, they could never force themselves to face what neither of them never wanted to see.
Not when he allowed his wings to enclose around his brother, the smooth white feathers sheltering him from everything in Heaven, Hell, Earth, wherever. Sheltering and protecting him from everything that was in his power to do so. Not when he sent his Grace twinding around the younger angel's own glimmering essence, the two brightest beings in all of Heaven merging and joining together ... alone.
**
When he listened to that part of him that told him it was wrong, that things were not meant to be this way -- that protecting and caring for the Morningstar had gone too far, had been twisted beyond the purpose that had first been intended of him -- he didn't know what to do.
And he started to feel things, emotions that had never before ran through his angelic being.
He felt ... confused.
He felt ... lost.
He felt ... pain.
And so he sought help. He sought guidance and clarity from the one who knew everything, from the one who had never disappointed him, from the one who he knew, in every fragment of his being, would never lead him astray.
For why would his Father ever tell him a lie? Why would his Father ever have reason to cause him pain?
No. He had no reason to think these things of his Father. His Father, he knew, could -- and would -- only help him, as any father would a struggling, confused, wondering child.
But when his Father actually spoke to him, actually told him what he had to do and what his destiny held for him ... the pain did not lessen.
Not at all.
Instead ...
It grew.
And grew.
And grew.
It didn't stop growing ...
**
Until he went back to the Morningstar, where everything that he had been told by that doubting voice -- that he had first thought for that brief moment was so wrong -- had never felt so absolutely right.
Where he sent his Grace out to connect with his brother's, where his wings went to stroke and wrap around the ebony feathers of Lucifer's own, and where he never felt so at peace.
He looked upon the brightest of them all, and he knew, deep down -- somewhere -- that surely, in this instance, his Father could not be correct--
And at that moment, he realized where his thoughts, his feelings, his ideas were heading.
Once again ... everything was starting to feel wrong.
For how could he have even thought to doubt his own Father!
Even for ...
He met the bright blue gaze of the younger angel, a relaxed smile pulling at his lips to match that of his little brother's.
And though a spark of pain flickered inside him, he bit it back, because now, he knew.
No ... not even for him could Michael bring himself to go that far.
It didn't matter, he knew, how "right" things may have felt ... for a time.
In the end, the answer would always be the same.
It would always be wrong.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan