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stupidocupido · 6 years ago

Text

Do it all over again

“Darling you are, the only exception. (and I am on my way to believing)”

The four times she could not save him, and the one time she did.

Summary: Reader is an (half) angel pretending to be a witch. Giving herself the task to save Michael and the world in the progress. Five times she tries, only one time she succeeds. A bit backstory: it all starts in the outpost when Mallory goes back in time to kill Michael. Seeing young Michael die for the first time made Reader realize she should save him Warnings: There is a lot of angst in this one. Also character death. But it has a happy ending. There is also a bit fluff. There are mentions of smut.

Words: 5160

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i - Sister

Feet bare, tears still fresh in his eyes. It looks like he does not know where to go, he seems completely lost. I cross the street, leaving the shadow of the murder house. “Michael.” Calling out his name, making him stop in his tracks. When I reach him I grab his arm, urging him to step away from the street. The car is close, I see the witch behind the wheel. “No questions, follow me.” Running away from something that would be his death, making our way through gardens and fields.

“Tell me your biggest fear.” Legs intertwined, noses almost touching. The blanket keeping our bodies warm. The sounds of the night outside, the rustling of animals searching for food. Camping in the woods had not been my idea, but it was better than getting caught by a witch wanting him dead. “Being alone.” The innocence of it, the fear of a young boy. I can’t believe Mallory had rather killed him with her car then try to save him from the darkness. “You will never be alone.” Touching his face, combing his wild hair with my fingers. “I promise.”

I can’t sleep, concentrating on his breathing instead. Will it be better this time around? I think I made the right choice, I would save him each time again. A cycle of sacrifice over and over again. Kissing his brow gently, feeling responsible for his tormented soul. This time will be different. This time will be better.

I am like an older sister. Protecting him from unwanted dangers, protecting him from himself and protecting others from him. And that is how we live for a while, like a brother and sister. He takes care of me, and I take care of him. Living of stolen food, sleeping in abandoned houses. It is not the life I would have chosen for us, it is not the life he deserves. But he is alive, and that is more important than the how. And I love him like a brother, wanting nothing but the best for him. This Michael is different from the Michael I’ve come to know. This Michael is all what could have been.

She finds us months later. Sitting in a cheap diner, pretending we have the money to buy the food in front of us. He laughs about his own joke, happiness always present in his eyes. Although our life is tough, he still seems to find good in it. Promising me it will be better, as long as we are together. More fries then his mouth can fit in his hand, his cheeks filled with food. Nonetheless he always makes space to smile for me, making me smile in return. The feeling of love in my stomach, we will be okay.

The bullet hits him from behind, the first one hitting his shoulder. She is only a couple meters away from us, she’s too close to run. The next bullet pierces right through his head, making his blonde hair turn red from blood. I scream, his face falling in the plate in front of him. Jumping up, a murderous feeling in my stomach. I can’t kill humans, and never will. But I can feel the agony, I can feel the cruel feeling of anger sweeping through my body. Holding his head in my hands, the ghost of his smile still present on his face. Crying tears filled with anger, the overwhelming feeling of sadness. I kiss the top of his head, the red of his blood staining my lips. I look up, she’s still there, a shocked expression decorating her features. Hugging his lifeless body, my hands still searching for a beat in his chest. Mallory shoots me, it takes five bullets to kill me. She also cries, for the sister she thought she lost.

I don’t really die though, for I am not the witch she thinks I am. Instead I travel further, travel to a different outcome. Another chance, another beginning. Another chance for me to make it right.

ii – Friend

“Hey, you’re also new here!” Smiling I walk towards the fence that separates my garden from the neighbors garden. “In the neighborhood, I mean.” Leaning one arm on the fence, watching him stand up. It looks like he is hesitant to talk to me, but when he sees my smile he gives in. “Yeah, I just moved in with Ms. Mead.” He gives me a shy smile. He is wearing a black t-shirt that is way too big for him. “I also just moved in, how do you like it here so far?” He shrugs, letting his eyes wander over the empty street. “Yeah, it’s a bit boring here.” He smiles after my words, leaning on the fence as well. “And it’s so hot here, that you aren’t burning up in your all black outfit.” This makes him laugh aloud. “I can take the heat.” “Well, that makes one of us. Do you want something refreshing to drink anyway?” He nods, jumping over the fence. A giggle escapes me, hiding my smile behind my hand. “So you’re a troublemaker.” He laughs as well. “You have no idea.”

It’s easy to become friends with him. Talking the days away, watching the stars during the night time. And I trust him, always will. Sharing secrets the best way I can. The feeling of being lonely, being one of a kind. We both are cursed that way, being the only ones of our kind. And when summer ends, I lay with him in in the garden of his adoptive mother. “I am happy I met you, I don’t think I ever trusted someone like I trust you.” I smile after his words, taking his hand to hold it. “Me too, it feels like I can be completely myself when I am around you.”

There is no need for hiding my true self when I am with him. And he makes me laugh so easily, makes me forget about my worries and doubts as if they were never there. And when I feel down, when the nights are too dark, the memories of him dying ever present, he makes it all better. His easy way with words, he always knows what to say to cheer me up.

And sometimes it does feel like he is the only one who can make me happy, the only one who loves me for me and not the image I created.

He is the first one I want to share good news with, the first one I want to share bad news with. I share it all with him, my best friend from next door.

And maybe that is all he needs, a friendship like ours, a place for him to go back to. He will never have to feel alone, because he will always have me and I will always have him. And I did not realize that I rely this much on him. Did not realize it was him who made my days better. The messages we sent each other every evening, the conversations we share about some stupid show we watch. It is all so mundane, the life we live is easy.

And one day, when Ms. Meade goes shopping for groceries, I convince him to stay with me in the backyard. “We will help her unload when she is back, I want to show you something.” And I show him the tiniest bit of my powers, making the leaves around us fly. Surrounding the two of us in a storm of golden and brown colors. And the look he gives me is so sweet that I want to hug him. And why shouldn’t I, we are friends after all. And as I hug him the leaves fall down. I feel the light in him, feel the wonder in him. “I know you have magic too. I just wanted you to know it can be beautiful like this.” He needs to know, needs to know magic is more than destruction.

“How do you control it like that?” His blue eyes are filled with tears. He finally told me about his past. I already knew about his childhood, I already had known how they had treated him. “I can help you control it.”

Keeping him away from the witches and warlocks is not enough, the war between the two species still happens, even without Michael there to spark it. And it’s nasty, young witches snatched out of their beds, killed by the warlocks so hungry for power. Young boys who finally thought to find a home, a family, ripped apart from their loved ones all over again. It’s dirty, it is unholy. It makes me disgust them even more. I thought the witches would be different, humans gifted with the power of light. Once again they prove you can’t really change what is rooted deep within. Violence in their hearts, wickedness in their doings.

And caught between the two fighting groups, there is no running away anymore. And I can’t really defend myself without killing a human being. Something forbidden by the very creator of us. Angels can’t kill, angels are not allowed to take a life. And that is what will kill me each time again, not being able to defend myself. Struck from behind, my body heavily bruised. Dying in his arms, weeping tears of blood. Fire surrounding us, caught in the battle. “Don’t leave me…” He is crying, his hands red with my blood. And I cry for him, cry for another chance gone wrong. And I feel so bitter, feel so resentful towards everything human in this moment, that I finally give in. “Make them pay.” I tell him, knowing this timeline can’t be saved. A kiss pressed against my cheek, his tears dropping on my dying form. “I will.” He tells me. And as I close my eyes to die, I go back to the beginning. Maybe there is another way.

iii - Mother

I hear the sounds of her screaming even outside. The moaning sounds of a woman dying, I feel her life slipping away. The crying of a healthy baby when she makes her last sound. All I have to do is wait, I can’t really enter the house, it is too unholy for my holy presence. Watching the blonde woman emerge, the woman who had left him to die on the streets in another timeline, in another life. Walking towards them, taking big strides. He is crying in her arms, calling out for a mother who does not want him. She only notices me when I am too close for her to escape me. Blocking the way to her house. “Give him to me.” Holding out my arms, strength in my voice. “And who do you think you are, giving silly orders like that?” She takes a step back. Tilting my head, taking a step closer instead. “Give me the baby, or you will die.” I ofcourse can’t kill her, but I can pretend I can. I only feel a little bit disappointment towards the whole human race when she hands me over the still crying baby. She was no true mother, a true mother would never give away her child. Shaking my head, rocking him in my arms. “You humans really are pathetic sometimes.”

He does not have a name, but I still call him Michael. Named after an angel, I wonder does this make us family. If he is the child of Samuel, or Lucifer as most people know him now, doesn’t that make Michael in a way my cousin? I watch him fall asleep in his crib. Although Mallory does not search for us in this timeline, I am still cautious. I am not sure what the true extend of her powers are. She is a strong witch, and I am only half an angel. Only half an angel, I snicker because of my own thoughts. Ofcourse I am stronger than any witch will ever be, any supreme could ever be. Witches get their magic from light, angels are like light. No witch could ever beat me.

But still, the worries stay where they are. Only when the months turn into years I start to feel comfortable. He calls me mommy, and I love him like my own son. He is a beautiful child, with his blonde hair and blue eyes filled with wonder. I try to keep temptations away from him, try to keep him in the light. And he is kind, despite the way he was brought to this earth, he is kind with the other children, he is kind with the pets I keep. I try to give him a youth as normal as possible. And every night I read him a story and kiss him night. Every night I watch how he falls asleep. Kissing his head, smelling his hair. The love a mother has for a child truly can’t be compared with anything else. I love him like he is my own, and in a way he is.

The house we live in is small, but there are just two of us. Playing with his toys, hugging him when he gives me that special smile. Every time I look at him I get that light feeling of love in my stomach. Every time he comes running to me with another drawing I feel myself drown in the love I have for him. My little angel, my boy wonder. There is no sign of his powers yet, and when they come I will teach him how to use them. He will never know evil, he will never know pain.

It is when he is two and a half years old he makes his first kill. I trusted him enough to behave, trusted the good in him enough to not make a mess. But when I come home the nanny is bleeding out on the carpet, and Michael is covered in blood. It’s only one mistake, one moment of losing control. We need to move out, I realize. Sooner or later they will search for a missing person. But not tonight, tonight I will make sure he still is loved. I lift him up, one hand stroking his back. “Michael, you can’t misbehave like this.” Closing the door to his room behind me, sitting us down on the couch in the living room. “But he wanted to hurt me, mommy.” Watching the worry in his blue eyes, a worry a child does not deserve to have. “No one will ever hurt you, my sweet baby.” A promise I would never break. I will not let them hurt him. Kissing the top of his head, pulling him closer to my body to hug him. No one will ever hurt him again.

There is knocking on the door, frowning I look at the time. It is not that late, but I did not expect visitors. Michael is sleeping in my arms, I keep my hold on him. Opening the front door, finding three people staring at me. One of the faces is familiar, it tells me enough about the other two. Miriam Mead wears the kind smile I remember from before. “We are here for our new lord and savior.” Raising my brows, watching the people. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” My free hand going to the handle of the door to close it. “Take the baby.” A feet placed in front of the door. The man is storming in, strangling me. The other woman is reaching for Michael, who woke up because of the commotion. He is crying, trying to pull away from the woman. “Mommy, mommy.” The struggle becomes rougher, I try to not let him fall, but still fight the Satanist off. Until I feel the cold of steel against my throat. “Let him go.” Miriam Mead speaks calmly, instead I pull Michael closer to me. “Never.”

The steel slits into my skin, making me lose my grip on Michael. The woman pulls him out of my arms, I try to reach for him, crying hot angry tears. I can’t harm humans, I am not allowed to kill, and I never wished to do so before. But in this moment I wish I could kill them all, burn them to ashes, and make them bleed. Boil their blood and rip their hearts out. “Michael.” I cry, feeling the knife leave my skin, cutting through veins. Dying, I reach out for him. His cries for me are the last thing I will hear, his arms stretched out for me. I am dead before my body drops to the floor.

iv – Lover

Gasps are escaping me, my arms folded together as if I am still holding him. Tears staining my pillow, my sobs filling up the room. I want to scream, I can still hear his voice screaming for me. Mommy, mommy, I can’t seem to stop my crying, it’s getting harder to breathe. I don’t even know where I am, and frankly I don’t really care either. It probably will be another failure, be another way to love and lose him. And I cry out for all the ways I miss him, and I cry for the ways they had hurt him. Ugly sobs, my skin having a red color. A hopeless feeling in my stomach, I will never save him, I will never see him again. All he will be is a memory in my head, and I am so afraid that with time I will also forget the memory of him.

Clutching my stomach, the tears don’t really stop. It feels like I just lost the love of my life. And in a certain way I did. Being his sister, being his friend and being his mother. All the ways I had loved him, and all the ways I would always love all these versions of him. Never knowing what the next one will be like. I will never forget, never forget the way he died in my arms, never forget how they took him away from me. My love lost, my best friend gone forever. Slowly my crying stops, finally I start to take in my surroundings. Slowly I rise up, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. It is not a familiar room, I am not really sure how I got here. There is something dark, an evil force in the sheets. Letting my feet touch the ground, the outline of the door is visible in the dark. There is light on the other side. The hallway is quit spacious. Crosses are hanging upside down on the walls. I know where I am, I must be in the home of a Satanist.

I hear the sounds of cooking coming from what I presume is the kitchen. “Ah, you’re awake.” An older woman is baking eggs, her face wearing a kind expression. “I am not really sure how I got here…” I confide, watching her expression closely. “You were pretty beat up last night, but I always help a fellow believer out.” I try my best to not burst out in laughter. Fellow believer, she couldn’t be any further from the truth than that. “I am glad you did.” It seems like I always ended up in the right place. “Are you feeling well enough to go to a service?” I nod, looking down at the clothing I am wearing. “Not clothed like this though. Let me change first.”

Sitting in the back of the church, being bored. It really does not make sense what the preacher is yelling. As if the devil wanted this kind of evil. Watching him come in almost breaks my heart all over again. Almost makes me want to cry again. But I don’t, I just watch him sit next to me. The smell of desperation clinging to his body, a little bit madness and a whole lot of sadness in his eyes. I can’t help myself, I need to get closer to him, need to feel him near. “Are you okay?” I don’t reach out for him yet, but I desperately want to touch him. “Why do you care?” His eyes are wet with tears, dirt all over his face. “Not all people are monsters.” I just reply. I pass him the money basket. “I don’t have money at the moment.” This makes the woman next to me interfere. I let them speak, watching his face closely. The way he says “That really would be nice,” makes me reach out to him. Taking hold of his hand, sadness in my touch. He does accept my touch, does not pull away. And I keep on watching him, not believing it had been this easy to find him again. This time around I will succeed, this time around we will both live.

“Don’t worry about it, I can get us some food.” Michael is in the shower, washing away his dirt and sadness. “Do you even have the money, sweet child?” She takes my hand, concern in her eyes. “Yes, please let me repay you, and I think it will be good for him to talk about what happened. I think we went through something similar recently.” She let’s go of my hand, taking a sip from her coffee. “Don’t get in trouble again.” I smile knowingly. “I won’t.”

She must think we both are drug addicts or something. Good, let her believe there is nothing special about us, let her believe he is just a boy lost in the world.

“You look familiar.” He tells me, eating the food I bought us. I feel myself freezing, how could he recognize me? We have never met before in this timeline, and he shouldn’t remember the other timelines. “I guess I just have one of those faces.” Casually I reach out for his plate, stealing a piece of chicken with my fork. “No, you don’t. You know me, and I have known you.” His blue eyes are narrowing, he does not trust me. He knows I am lying. I take my time to answer him, slowly chewing the food I stole from his plate. “But you don’t remember me.” I finally say, after swallowing my food. He shakes his head, ticking my fork away with his own fork when I try to steal some more chicken from his plate. “But I wish I did. You feel important, I just know it.” He looks confused, more talking to himself than to me. I wonder, did I went back to many times? Did I go too far? Did my growing dislike for the human race spoil my powers? “Maybe we can make new memories.” I tell him, hoping he will take my offer. “Will you tell me the old ones?” He finishes his plate, reaching for the water. And I smile, if this time around will be different maybe I can tell him. “In time.”

Pressed together in a bed that is made for one. Telling him small stories of the life I had lived with him. How he always had stolen my favorite candy, when we lived as brother and sister. How he always seemed to cheer me up when I was sad. And how he only fell asleep when I told him at least two stories. And it feels good, talking about the three people I loved in such different ways. My nose brushing against his, his laughter feeding my hunger for being happy. “I must have really loved you.” He says then, his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “You did, and I loved you.” And I already love this version of him, already love the way he makes me feel. “Maybe we can love each other again.” And after his words he kisses me. Gentle at first, testing the feeling of kissing. And I never kissed him like this before, only kissing him on is cheek, forehead and hands. But it does feel good, having him this close. Tasting him on my tongue, it does not feel weird. And when the kissing turns more passionate, everything gentle gone, all I think about is that maybe this time it will be finally okay.

Maybe this can last forever, hidden away from the world, together buried in sheets in a bed too small for the two of us. Maybe we can make the world our home, living everywhere and nowhere. Travel every place that there is to see, maybe we can both find the light in humans again. In their kindness, in their art and in their love. Maybe the world can be light again, maybe we can see again why humans deserve to live.

And I tell him he does not need the church, does not need to replace his mother figure. He has me, and I have him. And for now it might not feel enough, but it will be enough in time.

Kissing him everywhere, a hunger for more. Living life everywhere and nowhere, keeping away from witches and warlocks, Satanists and believers. Carrying the weight of the past on our shoulders, only the kisses making it better. And if the end of the world will ever come, it won’t be because of him. I will love him for eternity, love him in heaven and love him in hell.

But humans are stupid, there will always be violence in their bones. The tension unbearable after another terrorist attack, the world burning away in tears and blood. There is blood everywhere, the breaking sounds of their hearts almost audible. Everywhere I look I see people torn away from each other. Their prayers almost driving me insane. Burning is all I do, his words not cooling me down. And when the bombs fall, and even breathing gets toxic I realize I underestimated the time it would take for Michael to gain his powers. His skin burning away from the heat, my name in the sounds of whimpers coming out of his mouth. Tears burning into my skin, I hold his hand till the end. Till everything we see is fire, and I can’t really die, but he can. And for the first time I don’t feel angry or sad as he dies in my arms. I should have expected this, should have known it would be another failure. Closing my eyes, finally ready to give up. And I go back, once again, my body burning away on his. At least this time we lived a little before dying.

v – Savior

Numbness taking over, being in the place where it all once started. I am back to the beginning. Wearing a purple dress, trapped in a cortex of boringness. I wonder if it makes any sense to try again, maybe the world was supposed to end. Maybe I am only here to stop the witches from destroying the Antichrist. Must I wait another eighteen months for his arrival, or has faith been kind and is he already here?

I woke up as if nothing had happened, all my sense of time once again gone. It always is a surprise where my powers send me, and I grew rather tired of them. They are no help at all, only bringing me pain and loss. I can’t defend myself, can’t defend him, they’re kind of useless.

I let it all pass by, the days and the people. The humans around me nothing but annoying flies. I don’t want their presence, I don’t want their pity. I lost all the light. Feeling numb to the world, I can’t cry, I can’t be angry, I even don’t feel happiness, the only thing I feel is the feeling of failure. And when he gets to the outpost, I don’t even react. All I see when I look at him is another way to love and lose him.

I am so tired, too tired to try to talk to him, too tired to try to save the world. I fall asleep fantasying about all the lives we could have had, hoping for dreams that will help me escape from reality. And when I wake up again he is in my room. His sobs filling up the room, tears covering his cheeks. He sits at the end of my bed, watching me watch him. “Mr. Langdon, what are you doing here?” I try to sound polite, as if the situation is weird to me, as if I don’t feel as hopeless as his crying felt. “I remember it all.”

Sitting up, finally feeling a spark of hope in my chest. “What do you mean?” He climbs his way up on the bed, his body hovering over mine. “All the ways you loved me, and all the ways I ever loved you.” And he holds me and I hold him. Clinging to his body, crying tears of joy and disbelieve. We lay like that for a while, holding nothing but each other.

“What are you? You’re not a witch, but you’re also not like me.” Sitting in Venable her office, knees pushed against each other. “I am everything you are not.” A grin spreading on my face, loving these little ways to tease him. “And that is?” Curiosity in his eyes, his hands touching my knees. “I am either in a renaissance painting or a pet name.” He seems to think for a while, and then it finally snaps. Letting himself fall back in his chair, a laugh escaping him. “No way! Do you have wings?” Despite myself I also laugh. “Do I look like a bird to you?” I stand up and sit myself down on his lap. Taking his head in my hands, bowing down to kiss him. And when we need to stop the kissing to breathe, he looks at me. A smile on his face. “Will you at least take me for a flight, bird girl?” Hitting him not too hard, a genuine laugh escaping me. It almost surprises me, for it had been so long that I truly felt happy.

“Do you want to save them, save the world?” Lying in his bed, body pressed against body. I shake my head. “The only one who ever needed saving was you, and here I am.” My faith in humanity long gone, all I ever need is him. Choosing the black over the white, fire over water. And I’ll burn forever, all that makes me holy gone forever. Drowning in a black ocean, my body that surfaces washed away from all the rules that once bounded me.

Black lighting, burning kisses. Rough touches, salt in open wounds. Toxic rain wetting my skin, his hand in mine.

Burning the outpost and his residents to ashes, walking away from the fire. The two of us disappearing in the dying world.

Maybe I never needed to save him after all, maybe he had been my savior all along.

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It was quit a heavy ride to write this. I've been reading the hunger games again so I was in a big mood for angst. But as always I needed kind of a happy ending. Mostly I would write an end where the world was saved etc, but not with this one. A bittersweet one it is.

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