It Almost Hurt To Look
Title: It Almost Hurt To Look
Author: Miss Meh
Pairing: Adam/Michael, Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Rating: R for language
Warnings: language, cuddling, Becky
Spoilers: takes place after season 5, season 6 doesn't happen
Word Count: 6,521
Status: Complete
Sequel to: That Knowing Look, The Center Of It All, Highly Informative Porn, A Muted Movie Without Subtitles
Summary: Adam was really going to have to have a talk with Michael about PDA. More specifically about the fact that they were not allowed, especially when they were standing in the house of a Prophet and his disturbed girlfriend while his brothers looked on in amusement.
A/N: And now, we finally get to the Adam/Michael portion of the fic. This part turned out to be way, WAY longer than I had anticipated. And I also realized that each subsequent chapter gets longer by almost a thousand words and then BAM! This one almost doubled the last. The way I look at it is this: Dean and Cas are practically canon, so I didn’t need to spend a lot of time pushing them together. Sam and Gabriel are a bit harder to see than Dean and Cas, but it’s still not too far a stretch to get them together because Gabriel does whatever the fuck he wants to do. Adam and Michael though, they are very difficult to get right (mostly because we don't see much of them in canon), so I needed to put a bit more effort (and 3000 extra words) into it.
Plus, it seems like this story has gone and developed some sort of plot outside of the original fluffy plotline. It’s only barely visible if you squint, but it is there. How in the world did that happen? :P
A very big thank you to my betas, Delu and Sacatuzdank. You guys are the best.
Anyway, now that I’m done expanding on things that probably don’t need to be expanded on, here’s the next oneshot in the Mysterious Ways ‘Verse. I hope you guys enjoy it. XD
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“Ngh,” Adam groaned. Damn it, he had a headache. Must’ve been some night last night. He tried to remember what the fuck he had been doing, but that just made his head hurt more.
Adam squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over, burying himself unquestioningly into the warmth at his side. He sighed. Shit, he was more comfortable now than he had been in…
Fuck! His eyes snapped open. He had been in Hell. That douchebag Zachariah had tricked him into being Michael’s vessel by promising him that he would see his mother-the asshole had never actually delivered on that promise-and then, the next thing Adam knew he was down in the fucking pit.
He didn’t even know what had happened in between. As it turned out, archangels took up a shit ton of space and there had barely been room for his soul at all, let alone enough for him to actually be conscious inside of his (their) head. He supposed he should be thankful for that, for the fact that he didn’t remember what he had done while he was Michael, but it would have been kinda nice to know just how he had ended up in fucking Hell.
Suddenly, the memories of that place hit him. Adam clenched his eyes shut once more and was unable to keep himself from shuddering. Hell. He had been to Hell and he fucking remembered it. He remembered everything. A whimper escaped his throat and a distant part of his mind knew that he would feel embarrassed about that later. At the moment, however, it was impossible for Adam to feel anything but the overwhelming panic and terror that was currently coursing through him.
He was burning. The fire was consuming him, a never-ending agony. He was sure that he would prefer non-existence to this. He was slipping away. His soul was in tatters. There was nothing left for him. There was nothing left of him. He was drifting into oblivion. And Michael…
“Adam!” a voice broke through, jerking him out of his waking nightmare. Adam gasped and writhed, struggling against the arms around him.
Then the voice spoke again, and though he had never heard it before, he recognized it. “Calm yourself, Adam,” Michael commanded him. “Open your eyes.”
Adam resisted for a moment, but then he sighed and opened his eyes to look up at Michael. The archangel appeared… different from how Adam had last seen him. He was human, or at least occupying a vessel. It was strange to say the least.
While Adam knew that Michael had briefly used him as a vessel, he had never actually seen the angel when he was walking around in Adam’s skin. The first time Adam had “seen” Michael, he had been a fucking voice inside of Adam’s head, and then when he had eventually come to again down in Hell-Adam had to keep himself from falling back into the memories through sheer force of will-Michael had been in his true form. He had been fucking huge and so bright that it almost hurt to look at him.
Now, he was… Well, he was human. Michael was looking down at him with blue eyes that were surprisingly soft, considering the power Adam knew was behind them. His brown hair, so dark it was almost black, fell over his forehead, just short enough so that it didn’t obscure his eyes. A straight nose and full lips, which under other circumstances may have served to make Michael effeminate, combined with a strong jaw to instead give Michael a rugged look. A remote part of Adam catalogued these features, but the bulk of his thoughts had frozen when those blue eyes caught his.
A human might have whispered words of comfort, meaningless platitudes that did little good to either one of them. But Michael was an angel, and angels didn’t do human comfort. Adam barely kept himself from jerking in surprise as Michael tightened his arms around him. Adam lay there stiffly for a moment. This was really fucking awkward.
Then Adam realized that he was the one making it awkward. Michael was an angel-he had to keep reminding himself of that fact since he really didn’t look like a fucking angel-and had no concept of what would discomfit a human. For some reason, this thought relaxed him again and he allowed himself to sink into Michael’s embrace. By his figuring, there was no one else around to see his moment of weakness and, hell, Michael had seen him at his very worst; Adam knew that Michael wouldn’t judge him and that was the only reason he let himself accept the comfort the angel offered.
And if he nuzzled his head into the curve where Michael’s neck met his shoulder, Adam knew damn well that neither one of them was going to mention it.
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The next few months were spent pretty much aimlessly. Michael’s Spidey senses seemed to be broken, so he had no idea how they had gotten out of Hell, let alone why. Unfortunately, Michael also had no fucking clue how to be human. The archangel may have taken his share of vessels over the years, but, from what Adam had gathered, Michael hadn’t been down to Earth for anything other than heavenly missions since his first visit amongst humans not long after their creation. He was majorly out of touch with, well, everything.
They still hadn’t left the hotel room they had first woken up in. Neither one of them had any idea what they were supposed to be doing and, though Adam had tried to convince Michael that they should at least get jobs and find an apartment like normal people, the archangel had been adamant that they stay where they were. He insisted that God was the one who had raised them and he had put them there for a reason.
Adam didn’t know if he believed in that religious crap, but Michael was real enough and something had gotten them out of Hell. If that hadn’t been proof enough, Adam and Michael had had a fucking shitload of lucky breaks lately.
The first thing he had noticed was that they were never billed for the room they were staying in. Adam had gone down to the front counter to ask about it, only to be told that the room was paid for the next year and was there anything else they could do to help him today? His default reaction should have been to tell them to shove it-nineteen or so years of everything being “Me and Mom against the world” had made it difficult to accept any help, especially when he had no fucking clue where it was coming from-but then he had realized that it wasn’t as though they had anywhere else to go, let alone the funds to actually do so. Adam had forced himself to suck it up and just go back up to their room.
Thinking about funds had caused him to attempt to access his bank account-he wasn’t expecting success-which led to him to yet another convenient discovery. His bank account was still operational. This had truly stumped Adam. He had been dead for well over a year, maybe longer (time was fucking hard to keep track of in the afterlife) and his bank account was still working? It just didn’t make sense. Then he had seen the balance and realized that there were a few extra zeros on the end that weren’t supposed to be there.
Michael had assured him that both the hotel and his bank account must be God’s work. This had only served to make Adam more upset. What possible reason could God have for getting them topside and settling them into a hotel room with a shit ton of readily accessible cash? I just didn’t make any sense.
Though it went against his nature, Adam had, at Michael’s urging, eventually stopped worrying about it and started enjoying not having to worry about everything. It was only once he had taken a break from stressing out about each and every little thing that could go wrong that Adam realized that something else had crept up on him while he was becoming complacent.
Things had changed between Adam and Michael in the months that they had been topside. Now that he looked back on it, especially since it seemed as though the blinders had finally been lifted from his eyes, Adam recognized that things had probably started changing when they had been down in Hell, and he just hadn’t noticed it. Michael had spent a shit ton of time protecting him from Lucifer, and demons, and who-the-hell-knows what else was down in the pit. Adam didn’t know why the archangel had done it-he had always been under the impression that angels were total dicks that didn’t give a shit about the humans they trampled over to get their way-but it had an impact on him.
And now, months (or years, depending on how you looked at it) later, Adam had finally come to the realization that he was in love with a fucking archangel. Just fucking perfect.
Adam studied Michael from where he was laying on top of their bedspread. The angel was sitting at the table using the laptop computer Adam had picked up for them months ago-he had finally gotten over the debilitating laughing fits that used to plague him whenever he thought about his the almighty archangel lowering himself to using such a human invention. The look of confused concentration on Michael’s face was oddly endearing.
Adam sighed and tried to school his expression into something that didn’t scream “I’m a god damned fool who’s in love with the Michael, fucking angel of the fucking Lord.” Then, he picked himself up off of the bed and made his way over to Michael.
“I know that look,” Adam said as he threw himself into the chair across from Michael. “What the hell is confusing you this time?”
“I have finally recalled the name of a Prophet that may enable us to figure out how we were liberated from the Cage.” The crease between Michael’s brows deepened as he frowned. “The problem I am encountering now is finding him. How am I supposed to locate someone when the only information I possess is his name?”
A thrill of excitement shot through Adam even as he rolled his eyes at Michael’s inability to utilize a website as simple as the White Pages. Adam and Michael had been holed up in this hotel room since they had woken up after being pulled from Hell. It was encouraging to know that they could now go see someone who might possibly be able to tell them why they had been saved and what they should be doing now that they were back among the living.
Adam grabbed the computer from beneath Michael’s fingertips, ignoring the glare Michael shot his way, and pulled it toward him. He typed in the web address for the online phonebook’s homepage and then looked at Michael as it loaded. “What’s the guy’s name?”
Michael looked at him as though Adam had taken away his favorite toy, but he was still an angel, and he wasn’t petty enough to not answer. “Charles Shurley,” he replied.
Adam entered the name into the search bar and pressed enter. “Okay, we have…” He looked at the screen. “…four possible matches.” Adam clicked on the first one and then made a face. “Uh, Charles L. Shurley from Texas is dead-has been for almost thirteen years, for fuck’s sake-so he can’t be the one.” He scrolled down a bit on the page and sighed. “I guess we’re going to have to call the rest of them. God, that’s going to be such a pain in the ass.” Adam ignored the frown Michael sent his way. He had already been lectured several times about how he “should not take our Lord’s name in vain”, and he knew that neither one of them was going to be changing their position on the matter any time soon. Fifteen or so years of a bad habit made it way too much fucking effort to break. “I mean, what are we going to say to them? ‘Hello, this is Adam and Michael-you know, the archangel-and we just got back from Hell. You wouldn’t happen to be a Prophet, would you?’” Adam made sure to layer his voice with extra sarcasm just to make sure he got his point across.
Michael looked at him calmly as he replied. “No, we shall ask for Charles Shurley, and then we will ask him if he knows of the Winchester brothers.” He nodded to himself. “The Charles Shurley we are looking for will most definitely have heard of your brothers.”
Adam grumbled a bit, but didn’t comment as he picked up his newly acquired cell phone and dialed the first number.
Twenty minutes and three phone calls later-it was just his luck that he would leave the right number for last-Adam was hanging up the phone with the Prophet Chuck, who had sounded much more uncertain of himself (and perhaps drunker) than he had imagined a Prophet would sound. The man had given Adam his address, but requested that they not bother him until after noon the next day.
Though Michael had been unable to recall the Prophet’s name until that day, he was still fully powered in all other aspects and his ability to move from place to place in the blink of an eye was still intact.
Unfortunately for Adam, that meant he and Michael would have to wait almost another twenty-four hours to get the answers they were looking for.
Adam paced the room, unsure what he was supposed to do now. Usually, he would turn on the television or read one of the books that they had picked up in the time they had been staying there, but at that moment, he had too much pent up energy to do something so sedentary. So that left Adam with one option, which regrettably involved him pacing around this room for the next twenty-four hours.
Fuck that, Adam thought savagely. He couldn’t take another minute of sitting around in a room that seemed to get smaller and smaller every time he looked at Michael, especially since he could feel the angel’s eyes on him. He was going to get out of there, and he was going to do it now.
“I’ll be back later,” Adam grunted. Then, before Michael could say anything about it, he rushed out the door, slamming it behind him with enough force to make it clear that he didn’t want to be followed. It might have been a bit childish, but he didn’t really give a fuck at that moment.
Adam crossed his arms as the wind ruffled through his hair a few minutes later when he stepped out of the hotel’s lobby and onto the street. Fuck, he cursed. I forgot my jacket. Like hell was he going back up to get it, though. He could do without.
Where to now? he wondered, then shrugged, deciding it didn’t matter. He hurried off into the city, letting his feet go in whichever direction they chose.
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Six hours later (and a few hours past dark), Adam was finally able to find his way back to the hotel. God, he’d been such a fucking idiot. They’d been there for months now, and he still managed to get himself lost. And then, if that hadn’t been bad enough, it had started raining about an hour ago. He was tired, and he was wet, and he was cold, and all he wanted was to be back in his snug little hotel room with Michael.
Adam shivered and sniffled as he unlocked the door to their room and pushed it open with shaky hands. Fuck, he was going to get a cold; he could feel it. That was just what he needed. Back from Hell without a purpose, in love with an archangel, and now a fucking cold? He knew it wasn’t the worst thing he had ever been through, but at the moment, he was feeling wet and miserable and couldn’t bring himself to care that he was being overly dramatic.
Michael grabbed him by the arms the minute he walked through the door, his face the very picture of anger and worry. “Adam, where have you been?” Michael demanded. “You have been gone for hours, and I was unable to find you.” He finally noticed that the fabric beneath his hands was soaked. “Why are you wet?”
Adam shook Michael’s hands off and crossed his arms, unable to suppress another shiver at the reminder. “I got lost,” he answered Michael’s first question. “And then, it started raining.” He attempted to straighten himself up and regain a bit of his dignity, but then he sneezed, ruining the effect.
“You are sick?” Michael looked at him worriedly.
“No shit!” Adam snapped. “Tends to happen when weak, little humans spend too much time being cold and wet. If you hadn’t noticed, I am both cold and wet right now, so excuse me for being human and getting sick.” Adam wasn’t sure exactly why he was getting so defensive. All he knew was that he was once again feeling the need to escape. He turned around and started off toward the bathroom.
Before he could get there, Michael grasped his wrist and turned him around, laying one hand on Adam’s forehead. After a moment, when nothing happened, Michael frowned. “I am unable to heal you,” he murmured. “There is something wrong…”
Adam tried to pull away again, but Michael wasn’t having it. Before he knew what had hit him, Michael had begun removing Adam’s clothes. He couldn’t prevent the hitch in his voice as he nearly yelled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Michael had been leaning down to divest him of his pants and when he responded, he merely looked up at Adam through his lashes to meet his eyes. “I am removing your clothing. I may not be well versed on current human matters, but I do know a great deal about their physiology. We must get you warm, and the best and quickest way to do that is by stripping you of these clothes and sharing body heat.” He tilted his head. “I have seen many humans do it; are you unaware of this human practice?”
Adam’s face turned red, and he tried to keep certain parts of his anatomy from reacting when Michael talked about stripping and sharing body heat. God, this was so not good. He had left the room to keep something like this from happening and here it was, happening anyway.
He knew it the moment Michael realized what was going on. Michael didn’t gasp or do anything to otherwise indicate that he knew Adam was turned on, but the silence in the room spoke volumes. Adam blushed, if possible, an even more violent shade of red and refused to meet Michael’s eyes. He heard Michael get to his feet and then the angel’s hands were on his face, turning it so that they could see one another.
“Adam,” Michael said calmly. “Although I am not human, I am aware of what this reaction means. You are either attracted to this form…” Michael gestured at the body he was wearing. “…or you are attracted to me.” Adam saw Michael’s eyes soften as he took in the fear on the human’s face. “I have been inside of you, Adam; I know your thoughts, your fears, your love. You have never lusted after a man before.” Michael’s lips twitched at the corners. Adam was astonished. That was almost a fucking smile! “As a result, the only conclusion I can draw is that you are attracted to me and not to my body.” And that line did elicit a smile from the angel. As Adam looked a bit closer, he realized that it wasn’t really a smile; it was a smirk, and to Adam’s bemused horror, it was a smug one.
Adam froze. Michael knew. Michael knew how he felt, and now he was going to disappear. After all, he was an angel of the Lord, and while Adam wasn’t completely sure what their stance was on gay relationships, he was pretty sure that it probably wasn’t a positive one. He had never been to a church that did not proclaim homosexuality to be a sin. While he himself had never had a problem with it, Adam was sure that Michael would not see it the same way. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
Unable to take the tension anymore and figuring that he had nothing to lose anyway, Adam tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Michael’s. He wasn’t prepared for Michael’s reaction.
Michael dominated him. Taking control of the kiss, the angel pushed Adam back until he was pressed against the wall. For the first time since they had been raised from Hell, Adam stopped worrying about who had done it and what they were supposed to be doing, instead throwing himself into the kiss. His lips parted, and Michael took advantage, his tongue sneaking through to press against Adam’s. The human moaned in appreciation and ran his hands up Michael’s shoulders so that he could wrap his arms tightly around the angel’s neck.
Michael pulled away from Adam and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You are mine,” he asserted possessively, his voice nearly a growl. Adam didn’t respond. He couldn’t quite bring himself to start professing his love. That was way too fucking sappy for him at the moment, and he was pretty sure that Michael could read him like a book anyway. Odds were, he already knew. So instead, he merely tightened his arms around Michael and held him closer.
They stayed like that for several minutes. Adam never wanted it to end. Unfortunately, his body felt the need to remind him that he was still only partially clothed in pants that were fucking soaked. Shivers wracked his frame and his teeth started chattering.
A moment later, Michael had Adam completely naked on the bed and wrapped up in blankets like a fucking soft shell taco. Adam opened his mouth to protest, but he ended up sneezing instead, so he decided that maybe it was better this way. Michael crawled into the bed next to him and pulled Adam’s blanket cocoon toward him so that he could hold him and keep him warm through the night.
Adam sighed and sniffled, burrowing himself into Michael’s embrace. I could get used to this, he thought drowsily as his eyes closed and he started drifting toward sleep.
Before he was totally gone, Adam thought he felt Michael press a kiss to his forehead. Adam fell asleep thinking that he was completely happy for the first time in a long time.
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Adam and Michael arrived at Chuck’s house the next day at noon on the dot. Trust Michael to be worried about being fucking punctual.
Chuck was shorter than he had imagined. And more jumpy. The guy hadn’t asked who they were when Adam had talked to him on the phone yesterday. Adam was under the impression that Chuck had been very drunk when they had spoken, and at the time hadn’t cared about much of anything.
The look on Chuck’s face when they appeared in his living room was priceless. Apparently, the Prophet did not even remember speaking to Adam and so their appearance was coming as something of a shock to him.
Chuck gaped at them, his mouth opening and closing as though he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say. He finally stuttered, “You must be, uh, Michael and, uh, Adam?”
Adam was about to tell him that, yes, they were Michael and Adam, and that they really, really wanted to know what the fuck was going on. However, before he could, someone gasped behind him.
“Oh. My. God.”
Adam and Michael turned and saw a girl. She looked like she was around Adam’s age, maybe a bit older, but the thing that really caught Adam’s attention was the exceedingly creepy smile on her face. Adam didn’t consider himself to be a person who scared easily, what with being kidnapped by angels and then sent to Hell, but he was seriously frightened by the way the girl was looking at he and Michael.
Chuck sighed and moved to stand next to the girl. “Michael, Adam, this is my, um, girlfriend, Becky.” The girl squeaked and Adam wasn’t sure whether it was because of them or because someone had actually referred to her as their girlfriend. “Becky is a big fan of, um, angels.”
“And Winchesters,” Becky added. “I love angels and Winchesters. Together.” She clasped her hands and looked at them dreamily.
Adam wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that. Chuck took the decision out of his hands by clapping a hand over Becky’s mouth and drawing her toward him. “Actually, I, uh, need to go make a call to the, um, Winchesters now that you mention it.” He backed away from them, dragging Becky with him. “Becky and I will, um, go do that. Just, uh, stay here. Have a seat.”
Michael stood there for a moment before complying and settling himself on the couch. He looked at the human questioningly, and sighing, Adam sank down next to him. Adam tried to discreetly check Michael’s reaction to what was happening, and if he hadn’t spent the last several earth months, not to mention their countless years in Hell, with the angel, he wouldn’t have even been able to tell that he was reacting at all. Since he had spent so much time with Michael, Adam could see the nearly imperceptible throbbing of the vein at his temple. Though Adam didn’t consider himself to be an expert at reading Michael’s emotions, he was fairly confident that the angel was annoyed. That was pretty much how Adam was feeling too, so he considered it a safe bet.
Feeling a bit daring, Adam reached over and brushed the fingers of his right hand over Michael’s left, hoping that it would calm him down. Apparently not understanding what Adam had been trying to do, Michael turned his hand over and wove their fingers together. Adam thought about snatching his hand back and saying something to reassert his masculinity, but then he decided to just relax and enjoy it. So, he settled back into the couch and allowed them to wait hand in hand.
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When the Prophet led them into the next room to see his brothers, Adam wasn’t sure what to expect. Adam had started to let go of his anger at Sam and Dean while he was down in Hell. Seeing what Sam went through because he had no one to protect him from Lucifer had softened him a bit. When he was once again on Earth, certain events combined with way too much fucking free time-spent mulling over everything that had happened, unfortunately-to wash away the last of his resentment. It was actually a shock, even to Adam, that he no longer hated them, and surprisingly enough, he felt lighter without the weight of that hatred.
Even though this was true for him, he knew that it might not be the same for them. Adam was worried that they might hate him for giving in to Michael and causing Sam to end up trapped in the Cage with Lucifer. He really hoped that they didn’t see it that way. Sam and Dean were the only living family he had left, and now that he had let go of that fucking grudge, he wouldn’t mind the chance to get to know them.
Adam didn’t even notice that there were two other men (and the ever-present Becky, of course) in the room when they walked in. All of his attention was focused on his brothers. Both of them gasped as he entered and said, “Adam.” He was relieved to note that they didn’t sound upset or in any way hostile toward him; they were just surprised. Even Dean’s shocked, “What the fuck?” showed no hint of anger or displeasure at the revelation that their little brother was alive.
“Sam, Dean,” he replied, not sure exactly how he was supposed to get the ball rolling on all of the fucking caring and sharing that would most likely have to happen before they could get started on the whole “being brothers” thing.
Suddenly, the two guys he had barely noticed before stepped in front of Sam and Dean, clearly doing what they could to obscure his brothers from view. They weren’t doing a very good job of it considering the fact that they were both shorter than the Winchesters and the one in front of Sam was doing a particularly bad job, as the one he was defending had at least six inches on him. It would have been laughable to Adam if the men hadn’t been giving off an aura of… well, Adam wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. It was a mix of protectiveness, possessiveness, and mistrust all rolled into one.
He didn’t realize that they weren’t reacting to him until Michael stepped forward. “Brothers.”
“Michael,” they replied coldly.
Well, that made fucking perfect sense. These guys were angels-actually, he thought he recognized the second one as the one who had brought him to Sam and Dean after that douchebag, Zachariah, had resurrected him-and, the fact that they were with Adam’s brothers probably meant that they had been among those trying to help the Winchesters stop the Apocalypse. That probably meant that they weren’t too fond of Michael right now, considering Michael had been the biggest fucking proponent of the fucking Apocalypse.
Adam sighed. There went his hopes of forming brotherly bonds, or whatever. Michael was his… well, he wasn’t completely sure what Michael was, but Adam knew that he loved him. That would probably throw a wrench in any plans he had to get to know Sam and Dean. God damn it.
And that was when Sam started freaking the fuck out.
Adam wasn’t sure what happened. One minute they were all standing there silently, and the next, Sam was yelling at Michael, ranting about betrayal and throwing in profanity with every other word.
Everything happened so fast. What seemed like a second later, he and Dean were dragging Sam in one direction, and the angels were pulling Michael away in the other. When Adam and Dean had finally wrestled Sam into another room, they both examined their brother for any sign of the insanity that had taken over him before. He seemed to have calmed down a bit and didn’t look as though he was likely to rush out of the room and attempt to verbally attack Michael again, so Adam and Dean tentatively released their hold on him.
“What the fuck was that?” Dean practically yelled.
Sam stuttered and looked unsure of himself. “I just… I don’t know what came over me. I was just feeling afraid and hurt and angry and… betrayed.” He looked pained. “I couldn’t control it.”
“Sam, that was Michael, the fucking archangel! Even if he is an angel dick, you can’t just attack him.” Dean shook his head. “Do you want him to smite you?”
Adam bristled at the insult to his… Michael. “Michael wouldn’t smite him, Dean.” Though it wasn’t completely true all of the time, he felt compelled to say, “And he’s not a dick.”
Sam stared at him strangely for a moment, but Dean snorted. “Of course he’s a dick. He’s a fucking angel; they’re all dicks, ‘cept Cas.”
Adam ignored Dean, instead watching Sam, who looked as though he had just come to a realization. “Oh my god,” Sam yelped. “You’re with Michael, aren’t you?”
Adam blushed. Fuck my life, he thought. This was not how he had wanted Sam and Dean to find out about he and Michael. “Well, I… We…” he faltered, unsure what to say.
Dean looked gobsmacked. “So that’s why you’re so much happier to see us this time,” he blurted out. “Everyone’s happier when they’re getting some.” Dean looked as though he regretted saying it the minute it was out of his mouth, and both of his brothers pulled a face at his lack of tact.
“No, well, yes, we are together, I guess, but I’m not getting any and that has nothing-well, okay, maybe a little-to do with why I don’t hate you guys like I did the last time I saw you,” Adam rambled.
He was very glad when Michael walked into the room and interrupted them. “I believe I know what caused Sam to react in such a manner.” Michael was looking at Adam, but his words were directed at the room in general, and after a moment, the archangel moved his gaze over to the Winchester in question. “Usually, when an angel takes a vessel, he will construct a barrier between himself and the soul of the human whose body he is utilizing. This is done so that there will be no mixing between the human soul and the angel’s grace. Lucifer did not do this. Not only did he not have any intention of ever relinquishing his hold on your body once he had you, he also wanted you to be aware of what was going on around you.” Michael’s expression turned sad. “He has always had sadistic tendencies.” Then he continued on with his explanation. “This is the only reason you were able to take control and throw the four of us into the Cage. Lucifer’s arrogance was once again his downfall. Unfortunately for you, as a result of this lack of control on Lucifer’s part, you are now suffering from emotional transference. You are responding to me as Lucifer would were he here.”
Sam looked horrified at the thought that any part of Lucifer could still be with him. Adam watched as he began to work himself into a panic. Before it could turn into full blown hysterics, the shorter angel was pulling Sam into his arms and murmuring into the man’s ear. Adam couldn’t hear what the angel was saying, but whatever it was, it seemed to reassure Sam. Adam’s brother seemed to melt into the arms that were holding him, going so far as to lean down so that he could rest his forehead on the angel’s shoulder.
Okay, Adam definitely hadn’t seen that one coming. He really had no room to judge though, he reminded himself, glancing over at Michael.
Michael moved over behind Adam and pulled him back into his arms. Fuck, Adam was really going to have to have a talk with the angel about PDA. More specifically about the fact that they were not allowed, especially when they were standing in the house of a fucking Prophet and his fucking disturbed girlfriend-said girlfriend was standing at the entrance to the room making obscenely creepy cooing noises as she watched them-while his brothers looked on in amusement.
When they got to the point where they were comfortable enough to tease each other, Adam knew that he would never live this down.
And then Dean totally ruined the moment Adam wouldn’t admit was happening by saying, “How the fuck did that happen? How did you guys even manage to end up friends, let alone…”
And once again, Dean’s utter lack of tact reared its ugly head. Adam turned his head away from his brother. It was none of his damn business and Adam wasn’t going to grace him with an answer.
Unfortunately, Michael hadn’t gotten the memo. Adam groaned, knowing it would only add fuel to the fire, as he heard Michael say, “I took him to see his mother.”
Neither of his brothers said anything more about it after that, and Adam was surprised to see a look of commiseration on their faces as they each thumped him on the back. Then he remembered that they had lost their mother, too, and much earlier than he had lost his own. Maybe they had more in common than a father who was never there.
He looked over at Michael, who seemed to have made temporary peace with his brothers, though Adam had absolutely no idea how that was possible. He saw hope in Michael’s eyes, and that, in turn, made him feel optimistic.
Adam was alive, and he had Michael, and someday, he would have his brothers’ trust. And really, as a guy who had been through Heaven and Hell, that was already more than he could have asked for.
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A/N: All right, only two more one-shots to go! I’m pretty sure you guys can figure out which POV is coming up next.
Oh, and I know I haven’t really been asking, but if you read, please leave me a review to tell me if you liked it or even give suggestions. It would make me very, very happy if you do.
Author: Miss Meh
Pairing: Adam/Michael, Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Rating: R for language
Warnings: language, cuddling, Becky
Spoilers: takes place after season 5, season 6 doesn't happen
Word Count: 6,521
Status: Complete
Sequel to: That Knowing Look, The Center Of It All, Highly Informative Porn, A Muted Movie Without Subtitles
Summary: Adam was really going to have to have a talk with Michael about PDA. More specifically about the fact that they were not allowed, especially when they were standing in the house of a Prophet and his disturbed girlfriend while his brothers looked on in amusement.
A/N: And now, we finally get to the Adam/Michael portion of the fic. This part turned out to be way, WAY longer than I had anticipated. And I also realized that each subsequent chapter gets longer by almost a thousand words and then BAM! This one almost doubled the last. The way I look at it is this: Dean and Cas are practically canon, so I didn’t need to spend a lot of time pushing them together. Sam and Gabriel are a bit harder to see than Dean and Cas, but it’s still not too far a stretch to get them together because Gabriel does whatever the fuck he wants to do. Adam and Michael though, they are very difficult to get right (mostly because we don't see much of them in canon), so I needed to put a bit more effort (and 3000 extra words) into it.
Plus, it seems like this story has gone and developed some sort of plot outside of the original fluffy plotline. It’s only barely visible if you squint, but it is there. How in the world did that happen? :P
A very big thank you to my betas, Delu and Sacatuzdank. You guys are the best.
Anyway, now that I’m done expanding on things that probably don’t need to be expanded on, here’s the next oneshot in the Mysterious Ways ‘Verse. I hope you guys enjoy it. XD
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“Ngh,” Adam groaned. Damn it, he had a headache. Must’ve been some night last night. He tried to remember what the fuck he had been doing, but that just made his head hurt more.
Adam squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over, burying himself unquestioningly into the warmth at his side. He sighed. Shit, he was more comfortable now than he had been in…
Fuck! His eyes snapped open. He had been in Hell. That douchebag Zachariah had tricked him into being Michael’s vessel by promising him that he would see his mother-the asshole had never actually delivered on that promise-and then, the next thing Adam knew he was down in the fucking pit.
He didn’t even know what had happened in between. As it turned out, archangels took up a shit ton of space and there had barely been room for his soul at all, let alone enough for him to actually be conscious inside of his (their) head. He supposed he should be thankful for that, for the fact that he didn’t remember what he had done while he was Michael, but it would have been kinda nice to know just how he had ended up in fucking Hell.
Suddenly, the memories of that place hit him. Adam clenched his eyes shut once more and was unable to keep himself from shuddering. Hell. He had been to Hell and he fucking remembered it. He remembered everything. A whimper escaped his throat and a distant part of his mind knew that he would feel embarrassed about that later. At the moment, however, it was impossible for Adam to feel anything but the overwhelming panic and terror that was currently coursing through him.
He was burning. The fire was consuming him, a never-ending agony. He was sure that he would prefer non-existence to this. He was slipping away. His soul was in tatters. There was nothing left for him. There was nothing left of him. He was drifting into oblivion. And Michael…
“Adam!” a voice broke through, jerking him out of his waking nightmare. Adam gasped and writhed, struggling against the arms around him.
Then the voice spoke again, and though he had never heard it before, he recognized it. “Calm yourself, Adam,” Michael commanded him. “Open your eyes.”
Adam resisted for a moment, but then he sighed and opened his eyes to look up at Michael. The archangel appeared… different from how Adam had last seen him. He was human, or at least occupying a vessel. It was strange to say the least.
While Adam knew that Michael had briefly used him as a vessel, he had never actually seen the angel when he was walking around in Adam’s skin. The first time Adam had “seen” Michael, he had been a fucking voice inside of Adam’s head, and then when he had eventually come to again down in Hell-Adam had to keep himself from falling back into the memories through sheer force of will-Michael had been in his true form. He had been fucking huge and so bright that it almost hurt to look at him.
Now, he was… Well, he was human. Michael was looking down at him with blue eyes that were surprisingly soft, considering the power Adam knew was behind them. His brown hair, so dark it was almost black, fell over his forehead, just short enough so that it didn’t obscure his eyes. A straight nose and full lips, which under other circumstances may have served to make Michael effeminate, combined with a strong jaw to instead give Michael a rugged look. A remote part of Adam catalogued these features, but the bulk of his thoughts had frozen when those blue eyes caught his.
A human might have whispered words of comfort, meaningless platitudes that did little good to either one of them. But Michael was an angel, and angels didn’t do human comfort. Adam barely kept himself from jerking in surprise as Michael tightened his arms around him. Adam lay there stiffly for a moment. This was really fucking awkward.
Then Adam realized that he was the one making it awkward. Michael was an angel-he had to keep reminding himself of that fact since he really didn’t look like a fucking angel-and had no concept of what would discomfit a human. For some reason, this thought relaxed him again and he allowed himself to sink into Michael’s embrace. By his figuring, there was no one else around to see his moment of weakness and, hell, Michael had seen him at his very worst; Adam knew that Michael wouldn’t judge him and that was the only reason he let himself accept the comfort the angel offered.
And if he nuzzled his head into the curve where Michael’s neck met his shoulder, Adam knew damn well that neither one of them was going to mention it.
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The next few months were spent pretty much aimlessly. Michael’s Spidey senses seemed to be broken, so he had no idea how they had gotten out of Hell, let alone why. Unfortunately, Michael also had no fucking clue how to be human. The archangel may have taken his share of vessels over the years, but, from what Adam had gathered, Michael hadn’t been down to Earth for anything other than heavenly missions since his first visit amongst humans not long after their creation. He was majorly out of touch with, well, everything.
They still hadn’t left the hotel room they had first woken up in. Neither one of them had any idea what they were supposed to be doing and, though Adam had tried to convince Michael that they should at least get jobs and find an apartment like normal people, the archangel had been adamant that they stay where they were. He insisted that God was the one who had raised them and he had put them there for a reason.
Adam didn’t know if he believed in that religious crap, but Michael was real enough and something had gotten them out of Hell. If that hadn’t been proof enough, Adam and Michael had had a fucking shitload of lucky breaks lately.
The first thing he had noticed was that they were never billed for the room they were staying in. Adam had gone down to the front counter to ask about it, only to be told that the room was paid for the next year and was there anything else they could do to help him today? His default reaction should have been to tell them to shove it-nineteen or so years of everything being “Me and Mom against the world” had made it difficult to accept any help, especially when he had no fucking clue where it was coming from-but then he had realized that it wasn’t as though they had anywhere else to go, let alone the funds to actually do so. Adam had forced himself to suck it up and just go back up to their room.
Thinking about funds had caused him to attempt to access his bank account-he wasn’t expecting success-which led to him to yet another convenient discovery. His bank account was still operational. This had truly stumped Adam. He had been dead for well over a year, maybe longer (time was fucking hard to keep track of in the afterlife) and his bank account was still working? It just didn’t make sense. Then he had seen the balance and realized that there were a few extra zeros on the end that weren’t supposed to be there.
Michael had assured him that both the hotel and his bank account must be God’s work. This had only served to make Adam more upset. What possible reason could God have for getting them topside and settling them into a hotel room with a shit ton of readily accessible cash? I just didn’t make any sense.
Though it went against his nature, Adam had, at Michael’s urging, eventually stopped worrying about it and started enjoying not having to worry about everything. It was only once he had taken a break from stressing out about each and every little thing that could go wrong that Adam realized that something else had crept up on him while he was becoming complacent.
Things had changed between Adam and Michael in the months that they had been topside. Now that he looked back on it, especially since it seemed as though the blinders had finally been lifted from his eyes, Adam recognized that things had probably started changing when they had been down in Hell, and he just hadn’t noticed it. Michael had spent a shit ton of time protecting him from Lucifer, and demons, and who-the-hell-knows what else was down in the pit. Adam didn’t know why the archangel had done it-he had always been under the impression that angels were total dicks that didn’t give a shit about the humans they trampled over to get their way-but it had an impact on him.
And now, months (or years, depending on how you looked at it) later, Adam had finally come to the realization that he was in love with a fucking archangel. Just fucking perfect.
Adam studied Michael from where he was laying on top of their bedspread. The angel was sitting at the table using the laptop computer Adam had picked up for them months ago-he had finally gotten over the debilitating laughing fits that used to plague him whenever he thought about his the almighty archangel lowering himself to using such a human invention. The look of confused concentration on Michael’s face was oddly endearing.
Adam sighed and tried to school his expression into something that didn’t scream “I’m a god damned fool who’s in love with the Michael, fucking angel of the fucking Lord.” Then, he picked himself up off of the bed and made his way over to Michael.
“I know that look,” Adam said as he threw himself into the chair across from Michael. “What the hell is confusing you this time?”
“I have finally recalled the name of a Prophet that may enable us to figure out how we were liberated from the Cage.” The crease between Michael’s brows deepened as he frowned. “The problem I am encountering now is finding him. How am I supposed to locate someone when the only information I possess is his name?”
A thrill of excitement shot through Adam even as he rolled his eyes at Michael’s inability to utilize a website as simple as the White Pages. Adam and Michael had been holed up in this hotel room since they had woken up after being pulled from Hell. It was encouraging to know that they could now go see someone who might possibly be able to tell them why they had been saved and what they should be doing now that they were back among the living.
Adam grabbed the computer from beneath Michael’s fingertips, ignoring the glare Michael shot his way, and pulled it toward him. He typed in the web address for the online phonebook’s homepage and then looked at Michael as it loaded. “What’s the guy’s name?”
Michael looked at him as though Adam had taken away his favorite toy, but he was still an angel, and he wasn’t petty enough to not answer. “Charles Shurley,” he replied.
Adam entered the name into the search bar and pressed enter. “Okay, we have…” He looked at the screen. “…four possible matches.” Adam clicked on the first one and then made a face. “Uh, Charles L. Shurley from Texas is dead-has been for almost thirteen years, for fuck’s sake-so he can’t be the one.” He scrolled down a bit on the page and sighed. “I guess we’re going to have to call the rest of them. God, that’s going to be such a pain in the ass.” Adam ignored the frown Michael sent his way. He had already been lectured several times about how he “should not take our Lord’s name in vain”, and he knew that neither one of them was going to be changing their position on the matter any time soon. Fifteen or so years of a bad habit made it way too much fucking effort to break. “I mean, what are we going to say to them? ‘Hello, this is Adam and Michael-you know, the archangel-and we just got back from Hell. You wouldn’t happen to be a Prophet, would you?’” Adam made sure to layer his voice with extra sarcasm just to make sure he got his point across.
Michael looked at him calmly as he replied. “No, we shall ask for Charles Shurley, and then we will ask him if he knows of the Winchester brothers.” He nodded to himself. “The Charles Shurley we are looking for will most definitely have heard of your brothers.”
Adam grumbled a bit, but didn’t comment as he picked up his newly acquired cell phone and dialed the first number.
Twenty minutes and three phone calls later-it was just his luck that he would leave the right number for last-Adam was hanging up the phone with the Prophet Chuck, who had sounded much more uncertain of himself (and perhaps drunker) than he had imagined a Prophet would sound. The man had given Adam his address, but requested that they not bother him until after noon the next day.
Though Michael had been unable to recall the Prophet’s name until that day, he was still fully powered in all other aspects and his ability to move from place to place in the blink of an eye was still intact.
Unfortunately for Adam, that meant he and Michael would have to wait almost another twenty-four hours to get the answers they were looking for.
Adam paced the room, unsure what he was supposed to do now. Usually, he would turn on the television or read one of the books that they had picked up in the time they had been staying there, but at that moment, he had too much pent up energy to do something so sedentary. So that left Adam with one option, which regrettably involved him pacing around this room for the next twenty-four hours.
Fuck that, Adam thought savagely. He couldn’t take another minute of sitting around in a room that seemed to get smaller and smaller every time he looked at Michael, especially since he could feel the angel’s eyes on him. He was going to get out of there, and he was going to do it now.
“I’ll be back later,” Adam grunted. Then, before Michael could say anything about it, he rushed out the door, slamming it behind him with enough force to make it clear that he didn’t want to be followed. It might have been a bit childish, but he didn’t really give a fuck at that moment.
Adam crossed his arms as the wind ruffled through his hair a few minutes later when he stepped out of the hotel’s lobby and onto the street. Fuck, he cursed. I forgot my jacket. Like hell was he going back up to get it, though. He could do without.
Where to now? he wondered, then shrugged, deciding it didn’t matter. He hurried off into the city, letting his feet go in whichever direction they chose.
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Six hours later (and a few hours past dark), Adam was finally able to find his way back to the hotel. God, he’d been such a fucking idiot. They’d been there for months now, and he still managed to get himself lost. And then, if that hadn’t been bad enough, it had started raining about an hour ago. He was tired, and he was wet, and he was cold, and all he wanted was to be back in his snug little hotel room with Michael.
Adam shivered and sniffled as he unlocked the door to their room and pushed it open with shaky hands. Fuck, he was going to get a cold; he could feel it. That was just what he needed. Back from Hell without a purpose, in love with an archangel, and now a fucking cold? He knew it wasn’t the worst thing he had ever been through, but at the moment, he was feeling wet and miserable and couldn’t bring himself to care that he was being overly dramatic.
Michael grabbed him by the arms the minute he walked through the door, his face the very picture of anger and worry. “Adam, where have you been?” Michael demanded. “You have been gone for hours, and I was unable to find you.” He finally noticed that the fabric beneath his hands was soaked. “Why are you wet?”
Adam shook Michael’s hands off and crossed his arms, unable to suppress another shiver at the reminder. “I got lost,” he answered Michael’s first question. “And then, it started raining.” He attempted to straighten himself up and regain a bit of his dignity, but then he sneezed, ruining the effect.
“You are sick?” Michael looked at him worriedly.
“No shit!” Adam snapped. “Tends to happen when weak, little humans spend too much time being cold and wet. If you hadn’t noticed, I am both cold and wet right now, so excuse me for being human and getting sick.” Adam wasn’t sure exactly why he was getting so defensive. All he knew was that he was once again feeling the need to escape. He turned around and started off toward the bathroom.
Before he could get there, Michael grasped his wrist and turned him around, laying one hand on Adam’s forehead. After a moment, when nothing happened, Michael frowned. “I am unable to heal you,” he murmured. “There is something wrong…”
Adam tried to pull away again, but Michael wasn’t having it. Before he knew what had hit him, Michael had begun removing Adam’s clothes. He couldn’t prevent the hitch in his voice as he nearly yelled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Michael had been leaning down to divest him of his pants and when he responded, he merely looked up at Adam through his lashes to meet his eyes. “I am removing your clothing. I may not be well versed on current human matters, but I do know a great deal about their physiology. We must get you warm, and the best and quickest way to do that is by stripping you of these clothes and sharing body heat.” He tilted his head. “I have seen many humans do it; are you unaware of this human practice?”
Adam’s face turned red, and he tried to keep certain parts of his anatomy from reacting when Michael talked about stripping and sharing body heat. God, this was so not good. He had left the room to keep something like this from happening and here it was, happening anyway.
He knew it the moment Michael realized what was going on. Michael didn’t gasp or do anything to otherwise indicate that he knew Adam was turned on, but the silence in the room spoke volumes. Adam blushed, if possible, an even more violent shade of red and refused to meet Michael’s eyes. He heard Michael get to his feet and then the angel’s hands were on his face, turning it so that they could see one another.
“Adam,” Michael said calmly. “Although I am not human, I am aware of what this reaction means. You are either attracted to this form…” Michael gestured at the body he was wearing. “…or you are attracted to me.” Adam saw Michael’s eyes soften as he took in the fear on the human’s face. “I have been inside of you, Adam; I know your thoughts, your fears, your love. You have never lusted after a man before.” Michael’s lips twitched at the corners. Adam was astonished. That was almost a fucking smile! “As a result, the only conclusion I can draw is that you are attracted to me and not to my body.” And that line did elicit a smile from the angel. As Adam looked a bit closer, he realized that it wasn’t really a smile; it was a smirk, and to Adam’s bemused horror, it was a smug one.
Adam froze. Michael knew. Michael knew how he felt, and now he was going to disappear. After all, he was an angel of the Lord, and while Adam wasn’t completely sure what their stance was on gay relationships, he was pretty sure that it probably wasn’t a positive one. He had never been to a church that did not proclaim homosexuality to be a sin. While he himself had never had a problem with it, Adam was sure that Michael would not see it the same way. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
Unable to take the tension anymore and figuring that he had nothing to lose anyway, Adam tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Michael’s. He wasn’t prepared for Michael’s reaction.
Michael dominated him. Taking control of the kiss, the angel pushed Adam back until he was pressed against the wall. For the first time since they had been raised from Hell, Adam stopped worrying about who had done it and what they were supposed to be doing, instead throwing himself into the kiss. His lips parted, and Michael took advantage, his tongue sneaking through to press against Adam’s. The human moaned in appreciation and ran his hands up Michael’s shoulders so that he could wrap his arms tightly around the angel’s neck.
Michael pulled away from Adam and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You are mine,” he asserted possessively, his voice nearly a growl. Adam didn’t respond. He couldn’t quite bring himself to start professing his love. That was way too fucking sappy for him at the moment, and he was pretty sure that Michael could read him like a book anyway. Odds were, he already knew. So instead, he merely tightened his arms around Michael and held him closer.
They stayed like that for several minutes. Adam never wanted it to end. Unfortunately, his body felt the need to remind him that he was still only partially clothed in pants that were fucking soaked. Shivers wracked his frame and his teeth started chattering.
A moment later, Michael had Adam completely naked on the bed and wrapped up in blankets like a fucking soft shell taco. Adam opened his mouth to protest, but he ended up sneezing instead, so he decided that maybe it was better this way. Michael crawled into the bed next to him and pulled Adam’s blanket cocoon toward him so that he could hold him and keep him warm through the night.
Adam sighed and sniffled, burrowing himself into Michael’s embrace. I could get used to this, he thought drowsily as his eyes closed and he started drifting toward sleep.
Before he was totally gone, Adam thought he felt Michael press a kiss to his forehead. Adam fell asleep thinking that he was completely happy for the first time in a long time.
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Adam and Michael arrived at Chuck’s house the next day at noon on the dot. Trust Michael to be worried about being fucking punctual.
Chuck was shorter than he had imagined. And more jumpy. The guy hadn’t asked who they were when Adam had talked to him on the phone yesterday. Adam was under the impression that Chuck had been very drunk when they had spoken, and at the time hadn’t cared about much of anything.
The look on Chuck’s face when they appeared in his living room was priceless. Apparently, the Prophet did not even remember speaking to Adam and so their appearance was coming as something of a shock to him.
Chuck gaped at them, his mouth opening and closing as though he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say. He finally stuttered, “You must be, uh, Michael and, uh, Adam?”
Adam was about to tell him that, yes, they were Michael and Adam, and that they really, really wanted to know what the fuck was going on. However, before he could, someone gasped behind him.
“Oh. My. God.”
Adam and Michael turned and saw a girl. She looked like she was around Adam’s age, maybe a bit older, but the thing that really caught Adam’s attention was the exceedingly creepy smile on her face. Adam didn’t consider himself to be a person who scared easily, what with being kidnapped by angels and then sent to Hell, but he was seriously frightened by the way the girl was looking at he and Michael.
Chuck sighed and moved to stand next to the girl. “Michael, Adam, this is my, um, girlfriend, Becky.” The girl squeaked and Adam wasn’t sure whether it was because of them or because someone had actually referred to her as their girlfriend. “Becky is a big fan of, um, angels.”
“And Winchesters,” Becky added. “I love angels and Winchesters. Together.” She clasped her hands and looked at them dreamily.
Adam wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that. Chuck took the decision out of his hands by clapping a hand over Becky’s mouth and drawing her toward him. “Actually, I, uh, need to go make a call to the, um, Winchesters now that you mention it.” He backed away from them, dragging Becky with him. “Becky and I will, um, go do that. Just, uh, stay here. Have a seat.”
Michael stood there for a moment before complying and settling himself on the couch. He looked at the human questioningly, and sighing, Adam sank down next to him. Adam tried to discreetly check Michael’s reaction to what was happening, and if he hadn’t spent the last several earth months, not to mention their countless years in Hell, with the angel, he wouldn’t have even been able to tell that he was reacting at all. Since he had spent so much time with Michael, Adam could see the nearly imperceptible throbbing of the vein at his temple. Though Adam didn’t consider himself to be an expert at reading Michael’s emotions, he was fairly confident that the angel was annoyed. That was pretty much how Adam was feeling too, so he considered it a safe bet.
Feeling a bit daring, Adam reached over and brushed the fingers of his right hand over Michael’s left, hoping that it would calm him down. Apparently not understanding what Adam had been trying to do, Michael turned his hand over and wove their fingers together. Adam thought about snatching his hand back and saying something to reassert his masculinity, but then he decided to just relax and enjoy it. So, he settled back into the couch and allowed them to wait hand in hand.
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When the Prophet led them into the next room to see his brothers, Adam wasn’t sure what to expect. Adam had started to let go of his anger at Sam and Dean while he was down in Hell. Seeing what Sam went through because he had no one to protect him from Lucifer had softened him a bit. When he was once again on Earth, certain events combined with way too much fucking free time-spent mulling over everything that had happened, unfortunately-to wash away the last of his resentment. It was actually a shock, even to Adam, that he no longer hated them, and surprisingly enough, he felt lighter without the weight of that hatred.
Even though this was true for him, he knew that it might not be the same for them. Adam was worried that they might hate him for giving in to Michael and causing Sam to end up trapped in the Cage with Lucifer. He really hoped that they didn’t see it that way. Sam and Dean were the only living family he had left, and now that he had let go of that fucking grudge, he wouldn’t mind the chance to get to know them.
Adam didn’t even notice that there were two other men (and the ever-present Becky, of course) in the room when they walked in. All of his attention was focused on his brothers. Both of them gasped as he entered and said, “Adam.” He was relieved to note that they didn’t sound upset or in any way hostile toward him; they were just surprised. Even Dean’s shocked, “What the fuck?” showed no hint of anger or displeasure at the revelation that their little brother was alive.
“Sam, Dean,” he replied, not sure exactly how he was supposed to get the ball rolling on all of the fucking caring and sharing that would most likely have to happen before they could get started on the whole “being brothers” thing.
Suddenly, the two guys he had barely noticed before stepped in front of Sam and Dean, clearly doing what they could to obscure his brothers from view. They weren’t doing a very good job of it considering the fact that they were both shorter than the Winchesters and the one in front of Sam was doing a particularly bad job, as the one he was defending had at least six inches on him. It would have been laughable to Adam if the men hadn’t been giving off an aura of… well, Adam wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. It was a mix of protectiveness, possessiveness, and mistrust all rolled into one.
He didn’t realize that they weren’t reacting to him until Michael stepped forward. “Brothers.”
“Michael,” they replied coldly.
Well, that made fucking perfect sense. These guys were angels-actually, he thought he recognized the second one as the one who had brought him to Sam and Dean after that douchebag, Zachariah, had resurrected him-and, the fact that they were with Adam’s brothers probably meant that they had been among those trying to help the Winchesters stop the Apocalypse. That probably meant that they weren’t too fond of Michael right now, considering Michael had been the biggest fucking proponent of the fucking Apocalypse.
Adam sighed. There went his hopes of forming brotherly bonds, or whatever. Michael was his… well, he wasn’t completely sure what Michael was, but Adam knew that he loved him. That would probably throw a wrench in any plans he had to get to know Sam and Dean. God damn it.
And that was when Sam started freaking the fuck out.
Adam wasn’t sure what happened. One minute they were all standing there silently, and the next, Sam was yelling at Michael, ranting about betrayal and throwing in profanity with every other word.
Everything happened so fast. What seemed like a second later, he and Dean were dragging Sam in one direction, and the angels were pulling Michael away in the other. When Adam and Dean had finally wrestled Sam into another room, they both examined their brother for any sign of the insanity that had taken over him before. He seemed to have calmed down a bit and didn’t look as though he was likely to rush out of the room and attempt to verbally attack Michael again, so Adam and Dean tentatively released their hold on him.
“What the fuck was that?” Dean practically yelled.
Sam stuttered and looked unsure of himself. “I just… I don’t know what came over me. I was just feeling afraid and hurt and angry and… betrayed.” He looked pained. “I couldn’t control it.”
“Sam, that was Michael, the fucking archangel! Even if he is an angel dick, you can’t just attack him.” Dean shook his head. “Do you want him to smite you?”
Adam bristled at the insult to his… Michael. “Michael wouldn’t smite him, Dean.” Though it wasn’t completely true all of the time, he felt compelled to say, “And he’s not a dick.”
Sam stared at him strangely for a moment, but Dean snorted. “Of course he’s a dick. He’s a fucking angel; they’re all dicks, ‘cept Cas.”
Adam ignored Dean, instead watching Sam, who looked as though he had just come to a realization. “Oh my god,” Sam yelped. “You’re with Michael, aren’t you?”
Adam blushed. Fuck my life, he thought. This was not how he had wanted Sam and Dean to find out about he and Michael. “Well, I… We…” he faltered, unsure what to say.
Dean looked gobsmacked. “So that’s why you’re so much happier to see us this time,” he blurted out. “Everyone’s happier when they’re getting some.” Dean looked as though he regretted saying it the minute it was out of his mouth, and both of his brothers pulled a face at his lack of tact.
“No, well, yes, we are together, I guess, but I’m not getting any and that has nothing-well, okay, maybe a little-to do with why I don’t hate you guys like I did the last time I saw you,” Adam rambled.
He was very glad when Michael walked into the room and interrupted them. “I believe I know what caused Sam to react in such a manner.” Michael was looking at Adam, but his words were directed at the room in general, and after a moment, the archangel moved his gaze over to the Winchester in question. “Usually, when an angel takes a vessel, he will construct a barrier between himself and the soul of the human whose body he is utilizing. This is done so that there will be no mixing between the human soul and the angel’s grace. Lucifer did not do this. Not only did he not have any intention of ever relinquishing his hold on your body once he had you, he also wanted you to be aware of what was going on around you.” Michael’s expression turned sad. “He has always had sadistic tendencies.” Then he continued on with his explanation. “This is the only reason you were able to take control and throw the four of us into the Cage. Lucifer’s arrogance was once again his downfall. Unfortunately for you, as a result of this lack of control on Lucifer’s part, you are now suffering from emotional transference. You are responding to me as Lucifer would were he here.”
Sam looked horrified at the thought that any part of Lucifer could still be with him. Adam watched as he began to work himself into a panic. Before it could turn into full blown hysterics, the shorter angel was pulling Sam into his arms and murmuring into the man’s ear. Adam couldn’t hear what the angel was saying, but whatever it was, it seemed to reassure Sam. Adam’s brother seemed to melt into the arms that were holding him, going so far as to lean down so that he could rest his forehead on the angel’s shoulder.
Okay, Adam definitely hadn’t seen that one coming. He really had no room to judge though, he reminded himself, glancing over at Michael.
Michael moved over behind Adam and pulled him back into his arms. Fuck, Adam was really going to have to have a talk with the angel about PDA. More specifically about the fact that they were not allowed, especially when they were standing in the house of a fucking Prophet and his fucking disturbed girlfriend-said girlfriend was standing at the entrance to the room making obscenely creepy cooing noises as she watched them-while his brothers looked on in amusement.
When they got to the point where they were comfortable enough to tease each other, Adam knew that he would never live this down.
And then Dean totally ruined the moment Adam wouldn’t admit was happening by saying, “How the fuck did that happen? How did you guys even manage to end up friends, let alone…”
And once again, Dean’s utter lack of tact reared its ugly head. Adam turned his head away from his brother. It was none of his damn business and Adam wasn’t going to grace him with an answer.
Unfortunately, Michael hadn’t gotten the memo. Adam groaned, knowing it would only add fuel to the fire, as he heard Michael say, “I took him to see his mother.”
Neither of his brothers said anything more about it after that, and Adam was surprised to see a look of commiseration on their faces as they each thumped him on the back. Then he remembered that they had lost their mother, too, and much earlier than he had lost his own. Maybe they had more in common than a father who was never there.
He looked over at Michael, who seemed to have made temporary peace with his brothers, though Adam had absolutely no idea how that was possible. He saw hope in Michael’s eyes, and that, in turn, made him feel optimistic.
Adam was alive, and he had Michael, and someday, he would have his brothers’ trust. And really, as a guy who had been through Heaven and Hell, that was already more than he could have asked for.
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A/N: All right, only two more one-shots to go! I’m pretty sure you guys can figure out which POV is coming up next.
Oh, and I know I haven’t really been asking, but if you read, please leave me a review to tell me if you liked it or even give suggestions. It would make me very, very happy if you do.