[Fic] "A Requiem for That Which is Lost"
Sep. 6th, 2016 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lux_tuliAs Lucifer digs the sole of his white shoes into the neck of his now deceased older counterpart, Dean wondered if this was some sort of ironic jab at the classical paintings depicting St Michael casting out the Devil, often stomping on his head in the process. It did not seem farfetched considering how he adorned himself in all white, to which Dean secretly snickered at the fact that the shades of white did not match, yet that color representing purity and innocence did not suit him at all.
But most importantly, it hurt to see his baby brother like this, to see Lucifer riding around in his flesh as if it were his own. God knows if any part of Sam remained inside his flesh, remembering that he had been told that angelic possession was like being tethered to a comet and for the vessel of an archangel it was much worse.
He wants to wipe that damn smug smirk off Lucifer’s face that distorted Sam’s features, devoid of any hint of kindness that his brother possessed.
Even if this was the supposed outcome of him denying Michael, Dean still wants to firmly believe that there was another way, screw what Lucifer said about it being inevitable and screw Zachariah for saying that rejecting Michael only doomed all of humanity. He was determined to find a way that did not involve becoming an angel condom. He would prove all of them wrong.
Their brief conversation had ceased but Lucifer stares at him with a strange, indecipherable look. It’s unnerving because it feels like he is being examined underneath a microscope. The only difference being that the Devil probably viewed bacteria more favorably than humans.
“You’re a good brother, Dean, Michael could stand to learn a thing or two from you.” Comes what Dean thinks is supposed to be a compliment from Lucifer’s stolen lips. Normally, he would be one to bask in praise but not when it’s coming from Satan. He cannot help but notice that sad tone and hint of longing in his voice, though if Lucifer was trying to garner sympathy he had gone to the wrong person.
“Are you kidding me?” Dean scoffs, rebuking the comment. Lucifer huffs, growing annoyed, and he actually rolls his eyes at him.
“Take it for what it’s worth.” He shrugs, deciding not to explain himself any further. Though Dean figures that he does not want to waste his time on a mere human as Lucifer starts to walk away.
He pushes down the urge to cry out his brother’s name and reaches his hand out towards his receding back. And make promises that this future will not ever reach fruition if he has it his way.
He will not pray for salvation or beg for Michael to take his sword, despite how his counterpart had tried to convince him otherwise.
He will carve out his own future, destiny be damned.
