tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; February 17, late afternoon/evening
Rating; PG-13 for language (all of it from Michael)
Characters; Michael

chosenof_flame and Lucifer

alexielobsessed
Summary; Michael returns from his fight with Greed and then Lucifer arrives to mock him.
Log; Michael had managed to get into his wing of the cathedral from a back entrance. Thank god for small blessings,that way he could avoid everyone until his wings healed up enough to be reabsorbed by his astral waves. He'd have to set up wards to make sure no one came in, and even then there was a risk of someone breaking through, but that could wait.

He tended to the gouges at the base of his wings, wishing that Raphael was around, or even Baru. A frown crossed over his face as he thought of Baru, the one person he had thought liked him better than Lucifer. So much for that. Coming back to reality, he winces as he wiped away as much blood as he could fram the bad angle. It would be better if he had someone to help, but he didn't want to admit to losing because he'd let down his guard. Especially with Lucifer around.

Michael tossed a bloody square of cloth onto the ground, cursing in a near continuous stream as the nerves in his wings sang out their displeasure at the wounds.

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"Poor Mika-chan," Lucifer replied, stepping from the shadows, hands in his pockets, expression distant. "In another fight? Judging from that wound I would guess you lost."

After all, an angel never let one wound their wings if at all possible. That in and of itself was proof his opponent was stronger.

Taking another step forward, he tilted his head, "You will never get that cleaned and bandaged from the angle you have it."

Michael whirled around, eyes wide from shock as well as humilation. When had Lucifer come in?! "Get out!" He snarled defensively, purposely ignoring Lucifer's questions about the fight. He didn't even want to dwell on how it had happened, how stupid he'd been during the fight.

It was proof he still wasn't on Lucifer's level.

Michael moved back as Lucifer moved forwards, hating how the move seemed cowardly. "I'll be fine. Just get the fuck out, Lucifer."

"Cannot an brother be concerned? Especially when his twin is so irrational and unskilled," Lucifer replied. He did not consider Miahel weak, only lacking in the ability to control himself and the skills to call upon his real powers.

"And I am not leaving. You are in no condition to make me, either."

"You're never concerned, you just look for chances to fuck with me." Michael snapped. Michael pushes himself to his feet, determined to stand up to his brother (even though the attempt would probably fail). He gathered the powers he knew well, powers he'd been born into and could control.

The fire ignited in his hand and he glared at Lucifer. "Get. The Fuck. Out."

"Is that all you can summon, Light Bearer? Haven't you had enough of fighting battles you cannot win." Lucifer replied, then tilted his head and added, "Besides, if the noise is too great, Rosiel will come. And then he will see you like this."

And almost imperceptibly smiled, "Wouldn't that add insult to injury."

The flame almost wavered before Michael glared, anger refreshed once again. He still had problems summoning the light, his inferiority complex to his brother making it near impossible to control. And reminded him of why he had hated his twin.

At the mention of drawing Rosiel's attention, which could possibly be worse than having Lucifer around, He snuffed out the flame with an angry growl. "Just get the fuck out, Lucifer." Even now using that different name seemed unnatural, he wanted to call him Lucifel still...

"You've had your fun, right? Proving you're still better than you little brother."

"Why do you think I need to prove it? I will always be better than you, Miahel. You are rash and I think rationally," Lucifer replied, moving forward again.

"Now turn around and let me see what happened. If I am satisfied, I might leave without telling Rosiel."

Every word Lucifer said cut into Michael, eliminating any fight he had left. He felt like he did when he was a child again, always in Lucifer's shadow. His fists clenched tightly as his brother issued his order. "...Fine." His voice was laced with his ever-present anger as he turned around, feeling even more like a child than before if that was possible.

The wounds weren't as bad as they could have been, claw marks gouged into the base of the wings. And with all the movement Michael had made since Lucifer had arrived, they had started bleeding again, staining the white wings with red.

"Not too bad," Lucifer replied. "Though you would have done yourself better by sitting still instead of leaping around when I arrived." Then took up some of the clean cloths, wiping away the blood and cleaning the wound.

"Why haven't you started using your light power, by the way," he asked, tone netural.

"Your fault you appear out of fucking no where." Michael muttered, his arms crossed. he stiffened when he felt Lucifer actually tending to the wounds. Instinct made Michael want to move away because having his twin helping him in any way was just unnatural.

"...I'm having trouble mastering it." Light was harder to control than flame, flame was eager to be used for battle and destruction, but light needed a stronger will than that. He kept his eyes toward the ground, the best way to avoid having to look at his ~~much taller~~ brother.

"Try patience," Lucifer replied, amused at Miahel's reaction towards his tending to the wound. Yes, it was out of the ordinary, but he liked to keep the other man on his toes. Made him a few inches taller.

"Surprise like that gives away the advantage. Act as though you have known the person was there and you will unnerve them. Or you could try to be more aware of your surroundings," And purposefully gave a tweak to the wound. "So sorry."

Michael rolled his eyes, remembering lectures like this back in the academy when he made mistakes. Nothing could change that arrogant attitude. "Most people don't expect the devil to be hangin' around their quarters." He replied. Even fewer would want the devil tending their wounds.

He barely twitched as Lucifer tweaked one of the gouges, gritting his teeth so as not to give the bastard anymore amunition. "Barely felt it." He lied.

"Most people also think you are tall," Lucifer replied, a bit too amused at the barb that Miahel had set himself up for. Tilting his head, he continued to clean the wound.

"Liar."

"Fuck you. Ain't my fault my powers developed too quickly." Michael said defensively. He was almost at ease at this point, though there was still a point of tension in his back. He'd never completely trust his twin when he had his back to him.

"Prove it."

"The muscles in your neck tightened, indicating you clenched your jaw so as not to cry out," Lucifer replied. "Your powers developed quickly, but you thought yourself inferior to properly train them."

Michael scowled again, once again hating his brother's perception into him. It seemed like a two way mirror, Lucifer could see right through him, but Michael couldn't even seem to get past the surface.

"...Didn't help everyone thought that I was supposed t'be the one with the dark destiny instead of you."

"That was neither your fault nor my own. God was responsible and now he is dead," Lucifer replied plainly. "To put it in human terms, get over it."

"I am over it. It's been years since you killed god." Michael protested, turned his head to glare up at his sibling, once again painfully aware of their differences despite being born together.

The turn also unintentionally jostled Michael's wings, starting up another small trickle of blood and earning a barely audible hiss from the fire elemental.

"You never could keep still, could you," Lucifer replied with a frown and moved around Michael, stopping the flow of blood and applying a rather -tight- bandage.

"If you are over it then act like it."

Michael kept from wincing as the tightly wrapped bandage was applied to his wing. At least the bleeding had stopped. He turned once Lucifer had finished to look at his brother, that obstinate look back on his face, as if he really was completely equal to him.

"Well, are you satisfied now? I ain't bleedin' to death so you can get your ass outta my wing."

"Had you asked nicely and said please I might have left," Lucifer replied, looking as though he was going to make himself comfortable.

In truth, Alexiel was nude and he rather preferred to stay with her. But he had to teach little brother a lesson.

"Fine, you want polite? Please get the fuck out of my wing." Michael said, his arrogance returning to him. And really, that would probably be the politest Michael would get.

Lucifer actually laughed at that before exiting the old fashioned way: through the door.

"Good evening, little brother."

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