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"I don't know."
When Michael heard this sentence, he knew that for his brother, it must have felt if someone had rammed a dagger into his heart, probably that would've been a less cruel punishment for Samael.
****
The archangel had decided to visit his brother after meeting Amenadiel in the Silver City. He had brought a woman named Charlotte Richard up there, told everyone she had truly deserved his trip to Heaven. Well, he couldn't care less about her soul, but he had been pleased that his brother had at least managed to earn God's good will back.
"Michael. It's good to see you."
Said angel was briefly surprised that Amenadiel hadn't greeted him with a speech about what a great achievement it was that he had worked her way back home and that all of this was possible if you only would put trust in their father, but instead the Firstborn had given him an honest smile.
Michael had become curious after all, even if he would never admit it, how Amenadiel had managed to change his personality in such a short time.
His big brother used to be filled with pride, had considered himself the strongest of all angels and loved ordering his siblings around. Of course, he was a formidable warrior, but it had been his weakness that he had usually acted first and then thought about his actions and by actions, Michael meant hitting someone.
But the Firstborn had truly changed and told him that Samael, of all angels, had been his test and that it had brought them closer together as brothers again. Also Amenadiel had met an amazing woman and had experienced what true love meant and as if that wasn't enough, he had admitted that he had recognized that angels had their fate in their own hands and so it hadn't been their father who had gifted him with his wings, but that his big brother had felt worthy enough after Charlotte's death to fly her back to Heaven.
It was a lot to deal with, but one fact had bothered him in particular, Amenadiel had left Samael staying on earth. His twin hadn't been banished to Hell for nothing. He had started a rebellion against their father and forced the familiy to pick a side.
Of course, Michael had chosen the Almighty's and led heaven's army to end the rebellion before Samael could gain strength and allies. He had failed in his task, badly, and so a huge sacrifice had been made, siblings had died and many had been injured, but the archangel could have coped with all these things if their father hadn't asked him to ban his brother from the Silver City.
His very heart boke that day when he had cast his twin out of Heaven. Michael would never forget when Samael had knelt in front of him and begged the archangel to spare him. In the background the deep and angry voice of God had been heard that he shouldn't delay the inevitable.
So he had done it and would probably never be able to forget his brother's panic back then. He had betrayed his own twin, pushed his other half into a plane in which torture and pain was the norm. He had failed to protect the one person who had been most important to him, but his regets quickly had turned into anger when he had realized what it was to be an exact copy of the Devil.
Shortly after his brother had been sent to Hell, an ally had attacked Michael and gleefully rammed a spear into his spine. His siblings had helped him, but they hadn't been able to prevent Sandalphon from grabbing his right wing in pure horror and almost dragging him down too when they had thrown him out of the Silver City if Gabriel hadn't reacted so quickly and saved him from falling.
After this incident, the archangel only had felt agony. As if in trance, he had noticed that his siblings had brought him to Raphael, but a complete healing hadn't been possible despite the best treatment that Heaven could offer. So he had remained a cripple, at least he saw himself that way.
****
After his conversation with Amenadiel, he had flown directly towards earth and wanted to talk with his twin or, rather, confront him, why he would allow himself the freedom to live here in the midst of humanity and to build a good life for himself.
Since his fall, the family hadn't been as they were known and loved. Their parents had quarreled more and more, so that the Godess of Creation had taken revenge on humans. She had caused plagues and floods and watched laughing as their father's project had fought for their lives. Of course, she had been punished for her cruelity, but at the same time, Michael had been shocked that his mother had endangered innocent beings for fun.
The Godess was also banished to Hell, but not to rule and take out her frustration on demons instead, but as a prisoner who would be tortured for eternity. In the end, the price for their parent's fight had been paid by God's children. Their father had become even more distant and had no longer spoken to them directly. Turmoil and worry had spread in the Silver City, because at first no one had known how things should go on and whether God would recover.
However, nothing had happened. All of sudden Michael had been the one responsible, he had taken care of the fair distribution of tasks, ensured specific orders and as one of the oldest angels in the Host, he had been gladly consulted as an advisor.
Only, if he had wanted this particular job, no one had bothered to ask and unfortunately with increasing responsibility, more and more envy had been born, because even if their father hadn't spoken anymore, Michael hadn't given up on him. For hours, he had sat in the throne room and described the proceedings in the Silver City colorfully, how his beloved children hadn't lost their faith in him despite the traumatic events of the rebellion or the loss of a parent and how humanity had developed. Form time to time, the archangel had of course also spoken about his personal thoughts and fears, but he tried to do such things as little as possible, since it would have been unfair to his siblings if only he was allowd to talk to father undisturbed.
But despite all efforts and good intentions, the displeasure among his brothers and sisters continued to grow. They had never said it in his face, but he knew the rumors too well.
That the almighty archangel Michael had only waited fur such an opportunity, that he could finally pick up their father's tasks, that he would enjoy being God's right hand and that he would finally have found his destiny in his pathetic existence by commanding the angels of the Lord.
The accusations had hit him hard at the time, they still did, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone had been busy with themselves, had their own worries and Michael had been chosen as a catalyst.
So Michael had ended up alone. He was forced to fight his inner battles with himself.
Countless times, he had woken up at night because his nightmares always seemed to find him. Frequently he had been watching Samael's fall over and over again, so that the terrified screams of his twin haunted him even in his daily work tasks. However, he couldn't show any weakness, after all he had the reins in his hands and that's why he not only needed concentration, but also willpower.
It just wasn't easy to find the strength to get up and move on. None of his siblings could imagine what it was like to wake up in pain every day, for thousands of years, when half of your body was stiff and the muscles began to cramp with the first hint of the slightest unatural movement. On bad days, his shoulder burned like fire and he was forced to leave his damaged wings out.
The whispers on such days, when he hobbled slowly through the Silver City, hadn't remained hidden from him either.
Poor, crippled Mike. The broken archangel.
The insults of his brothers and sisters had hurt more than the wound Sandalphon had inflicted.
He didn't know how he deserved such a behavior. Michael wasn't a saint, but he had done anything to regulate daily life in Heaven, to protect the souls who wanted to find peace in their afterlives and to maintain a certain structure despite the absence of their father, but what he had got back was mockery and hatred of all those who were not at the top of the food chain. Angels probably had more in common with humanity than some of them believed.
And that's exactly why he had landed on his twin's balcony, already sorted things in his head he wanted to say to him, but when he came within earshot of the living room, he could hear a conversation between Samael and a mortal.
At first, he was annoyed that he couldn't express his thoughts directly and had to wait until his brother had dealt with one of his countless lovers, only when he noticed which topic they're dicussing Michael fell completely silent.
"Could you accept me like this?"
The archangel's breath stopped. He hadn't known that Samael had revealed his true identity. He knew his brother would never lie, but showing his devil face to a mortal being was risky. He had seen people go crazy for less. The woman seemed scared, but her mind remained intact. Brave girl.
"I don't know."
The human's answer was despretate but honest.
"Then I have my answer."
Michael had to swallow hard when he heard the deeply dismayed voice of Samael. The last word shaky, as if his brother was close too tears.
When the woman left, the penthouse was quiet. The angel didn't know how to behave. His twin had always been sensitive even if he acted like pure sunshine, but Michael knew too well that it was fake, a mask to hide how vulnerable he was.
And just as he was thinking about leaving, he heard Samael's voice again. The words were no more than a whisper, but they hit him right into his heart.
"Who could love a monster like me?"
He closed his eyes. He didn't know why, but the angel couldn't just ignore his brother's obvious distress. He was here to tell him what he was thinking about his twin and the life he had built for himself on earth while Michael lived in misery and lonliness in the Silver City, but suddenly none of that seemed important anymore. The only clear thought he could grasp was that Samael was not a monster and would never be one.
So the archangel went through the open doors and entered the living room.
"Well, I could."
His brother was startled and turned around quickly, his wings came out and fluffed up defensively.
Normally, Michael would have done the same as his twin, but he wasn't here to fight. He could understand the reaction though, it had been himself who had thrown his own brother into an abyss without mercy.
People had reported his deed in their holy book, had happily told the story how he had banished the Beast to Hell, but that he had been forced to send the person who had been most important to him to a place where only violence and torture existed, but nobody had found it necessary to mention.
Even today, the angel was struggling with the images in his head and just now, when Samael was standig here, facing him and looking at him with a mixture of fear and anger, it seemed to Michael as if he would experience his brother's fall again. Only this time, he was here to comfort and not to thoughtlessly carry out their father's order.
"Well, the day's getting worse. Who would've thought."
The archangel didn't get much time to react, because in the next moment he only saw how his twin lunged at him.
Michael hit the floor hard and through his twisted spine shot an intense pain which he had never felt before. His brother, however, didn't seem to notice because he pinned him to the ground roughly, so that the archangel couldn't defend himself and while doing so he unknowingly put pressure on his bad side.
"What's wrong with you, Mickey? Out of shape already? What are you doing up there in the Silver City, mh?"
He tried to ignore Samael's sarcasm, but the pain in his right side became unbearable.
"Sam, please."
It was humiliating for Michael, but he had decided not to confirm his brother's antics by fighting back.
"WHAT?"
His twin's eyes began to glow red and the archangel could see the angry flames of eternal hellfire. He wasn't afraid, but it showed him, that his brother wouldn't be reasonable anytime soon. He had no choice.
He quickly lifted his legs and kicked them into his brother's stomach. A movement which didn't cause any pain, but distracted Samael long enough for the angel to grab his twin's arms quickly and push him away. It hurt, but it was better than feeling the entire weight of the Devil on his upper body.
Groaning, he turned around. Just in time to see that Samael had got up and looked at him disdainfully.
"Fight me!"
His brother yelled at him, but Michael stayed where he was and shook his head.
"I said you should keep fighting!"
He knew that it wasn't Samael's wish, he just wanted to express his pain, just as he had wanted to take out his frustration on his twin.
"If you want, you can hit me until your arms get tired, but I won't fight back. I know what you're up to, Sam. I heard your little conversation between that woman and you. She hurt you and now you want to express your anger."
Again, there was absolute silence in the expensive penthouse. His twin looked at him in disbelief and his hands started to shake.
"How..."
But his brother couldn't finish his sentence. The will to fight left him, tears welled up in his eyes and he drew in a shaky breath. Ungracious, he sit down next to the archangel.
"She left me. After all these years we worked together and what we went through, she decided against me. The detective's afraid of me. Afraid of who I really am."
Michael couldn't prevent it, but anger rose in him when he saw how desperate his twin seemed to be. Samael's voice sounded hysterical and it made him cringe.
"She left, Mi."
The angel carefully straightened up and moved closer to his brother. They both had a lot to talk, but that didn't matter right now.
Only one thing counted for Michael at the moment and that was his twin who laid in his arms and cried softly into his shoulder.