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Five years.
It’s been five years since the war in the football field. Five years since Michael’s lost his wings. Five years since he was sentenced to an eternity in Hell, with only a toothbrush (of all things) for company.
For Earth, he had been scrubbing the floors of Hell for barely a year. But in Hell? It was centuries. Centuries spent reliving the battle through his memories. Centuries of hating his twin for taking not only his attention, his spotlight, his love… but now his freedom as well.
But when the blinding anger began to ebb away, the guilt settled in. The regret over every wrong he’s committed. Every life he’s ruined. Every life he’s taken.
When the guilt came, he had wanted to beg for the anger to return.
Then, out of the blue, Michael hears rumors that his golden boy brother was setting shop in Hell, but not as it’s warden. No, as it’s healer.
Michael had been skeptical, wouldn’t believe the rumors. But sure enough, more and more human souls were reported leaving the despair ridden terrain.
There had been an uproar at first (demons never enjoyed it when someone messed around with their favorite toys), but that had been resolved fairly quickly, though Michael had never cared enough to find out the details.
Then one day, after centuries of wasting away, a demon had come up to the broken angel, and informed him that Dr. Morningstar (to which Michael had scoffed at the title) had requested his presence.
Michael had denied the request, because what was the worst thing Lucifer could do to him? Kill him? Michael might’ve done it himself if the toothbrush had only been any sharper.
It had taken six tries for Michael to finally accept the request for a session (though it had been with great reluctance).
It had taken a good few decades for the sessions to be anything besides arguments, petty insults from both twins, and there was even a punch or two thrown at certain points.
But after hundreds upon hundreds of years worth of sessions, Michael was… He wouldn’t use the word healed, but it was close enough.
Close enough to earn him a place on Earth (but not Heaven, apparently that ship had sailed long ago).
From this moment, it had been three years since he’s met Ella Lopez, as himself this time, at Lucifer and his miracle’s wedding.
The glare she had given him had become an expected response he received from people.
But multiple hits to the chest with a shoe hadn’t been expected. Nor had he expected her to accidentally spill the remaining sips of champagne from her flute onto his pants (it should be said that the flute had been her fourth).
He had hoped that that would be the last he saw of the forensic scientist.
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.
Three weeks after the wedding, they had run into each again in a coffee shop (where she had commented on cliche meet-cutes becoming reality). The meeting had been brief, but nice when compared to getting a face-full of heels.
They had spontaneously met in the coffee shop again after that. And again, and again, and again…
One day, over two years later, Ella had broken the routine by asking the archangel out on something called a ‘date’.
And the night of that date, well… it’s a night that brought the Archangel here, nine months later.
Michael stood in front of the glass that separated the human spawns from the hallway, that separated Michael from his… daughter.
In a little plastic cradle near the glass, laid the sleeping nephilim, Renee Lopez.
She looked like a mini, wrinkled, potato-like copy of her mother. Michael could only hope that the newborn would inherit her mother’s personality and heart as well as her looks.
When Ella had first informed him of his impending fatherhood, Michael had been more than skeptical. Yes, two of his brothers had reproduced with members of the human race, but that had been different!
Amenadiel had been mortal, and Lucifer’s situation with Chloe Decker was… complicated, to put it lightly.
But Amenadiel, God-all-freaking-mighty, had confirmed the baby’s paternity.
To say that Michael had been shaken to his core would be the understatement of the fucking century.
But after reassurances from Ella, threats and weirdly-elaborate-insults from Lucifer, he had eventually come around after a brief existential crisis (that may or may not have included a lot of alcohol… like a lot).
In the present, Renee let out a yawn, and tried to wiggle around in her professionally made swaddle.
Michael couldn’t help himself but smile, absolutely transfixed on the little infant.
When Michael tried to remember if he’s ever felt true happiness in his life, it usually turned out to be a much harder feat than one would expect. He’s felt brief moments of enjoyment. Of excitement.
But happiness? Contentment? That was a much taller order.
But right now, for the first time in millennia… he finally felt wonderfully content. Full. Like the world finally made sense again.
Michael suddenly felt something barrel into his leg, making him stumble a bit to the side, followed by a grunt from the floor. He looked down to see his niece, Aurora, trying to right herself up after accidentally running into him.
“Sowwy!” Rory exclaimed in that baby-talk way of her’s. She was practically vibrating off the walls, and had chocolate smeared around her mouth as explanation.
This much told Michael that Lucifer was on daddy duty, since the devil rarely possessed the ability to say no to the child (and yet Lucifer wonders why Chloe’s so concerned that Rory would grow up spoiled).
“Where did you come from?” Michael asked the child.
Rory was quiet for several moments, thinking it over. “I don’t know.”
Michael almost snorted, then nodded. “Right, so hard to keep track, huh?”
Rory nodded vigorously, stood straight, and looked around her surroundings. She suddenly looked up at Michael, put a finger to her lips, and shushed. “I’m hiding from Daddy!”
“Are you now?” Michael asked with a slight smirk. He always enjoyed when the little hellraiser gave her father trouble. “And why’s that?”
She looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Cause I wanna.”
Michael almost laughed at that, loving how easily the little Antichrist can get under her father’s skin. But then his eyes traveled back to his own daughter, who may-or-may-not someday do the same to him… Well, shit.
Suddenly, a familiar British voice started calling through the halls. “Rory! Where are you? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten your paws trapped in the vending machine again!”
Rory’s eyes widened in alarm, and she ran to Michael’s other side, crouched down, and hid her face behind his ankles. “Don’t tell Daddy where I am!”
Michael raised a brow at the child, but didn’t get a chance to respond before his twin rounded the corner, eyes roving the surrounding area for the girl. “Bloody hell, Aurora Hope Morningstar!”
Lucifer’s eyes then met Michael’s, and he speed-walked over to him. “Have you by any chance seen Rory? She’s apparently running from the law after a successful heist from the vending machine.”
The devil shook his head in exasperation. “It used to be funny when her sister did it and hid from Daniel, but living it isn’t nearly as entertaining as it is to watch!”
Michael chuckled at his brother’s obvious distress, eliciting a glare from the devil.
Lucifer jabbed a thumb towards the hospital nursery. “Oh, you think it’s funny now. Just wait a few years. With Miss Lopez’s lock-picking and car stealing genes running through her blood, that child will no doubt be a hurricane.”
“Well, at least my daughter isn’t a thief.” Michael retorted, though he secretly took his brother’s words into account. Renee was destined to be the death of him, wasn’t she? And why the hell was he so excited for it?
“All children are thieves, the only difference is that some know how to hide evidence better than others.” Lucifer said distractedly as he continued to look around the hall for his own little thief.
Michael cleared his throat, then made his eyes quickly glance between the devil’s and the child hiding behind his legs.
When Lucifer caught on, he looked down, and saw the child, who still believed herself to be as invisible as Rae-Rae during a reap.
Lucifer rolled his eyes, appearing very much irritated, but his entire body instantly relaxed the moment his eyes landed on the girl. “I ought to put a tracker on the little hellion.”
Lucifer muttered as he crossed his arms, and settled his attention on the newest addition to the celestial family. “Perhaps I should invest in a leash? Or does that constitute as child-abuse? I’ll need to look that up.”
Michael smirked teasingly as his own eyes were glued to the baby. “Still using those Mommy-and-Me blogs, huh?”
Lucifer glowered at that. Michael would never forget the time he once walked in on the great Lucifer Morningstar, vigorously reading over a blog about parenting tips.
“Oh, and where, pray tell, will you get parenting tips? Our half-brother’s clique of disciples? The demons? Our lovely sister Gabriel?”
Michael snorted at the last part. “She might have once been essentially used as a pregnancy test, but that’s as far as her knowledge of children extends.”
Lucifer hummed, then turned his eyes towards the archangel, waiting for a genuine answer.
Michael shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “I don’t know, I suppose I’ll just figure it out as I go. I’m the Archangel Michael, I don’t need any books to be a decent parent.”
That was some of the truth. Michael didn’t exactly need the books… Though he has read a couple… dozen. But Lucifer didn’t need to know that.
Lucifer didn’t seem to completely buy it, but dropped the topic nonetheless. The devil’s demeanor became more serious, more tense. “Do you love your child?” He asked matter-of-factly, looking towards the glass.
Michael was caught off guard by the unexpected question. He stared at the child in question, the little piece of him and Ella. During Ella’s pregnancy, he hadn’t been sure if he loved the baby. There were times when he didn’t think he was even capable of the emotion.
The fear that he couldn’t love his own daughter had kept him awake many nights, kept him tossing and turning, kept him agonizing, kept him drowning in guilt.
There was a time when Michael believed he couldn’t love Renee… But since the moment Ella announced that she believed she was going into labor, and that they would officially be parents in only a matter of hours, Michael felt… something.
It wasn’t a specific emotion, but rather a distorted array that utterly confused him. Panic, shock, confusion, uncertainty, adrenaline, excitement, awe, fear, fear, fear.
So. Much. Fear.
And Michael, being the angel designated to the damn emotion, would know, wouldn’t he?
Fear’s always had the tendency to be his undoing. Fear of constantly being second best, fear of constantly being trapped in his twin’s shadow, fear of never measuring up…
And now, fear of failing his daughter.
When he realized this fear sometime after they first arrived to the hospital, is when the reason for Michael’s apparent detachment towards his child finally clicked.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t love her. It’s that he was afraid to love her.
He was afraid of once again not measuring up. He was afraid of his past mistakes catching up with him again. He was afraid of… of not being worthy of Renee, or Ella.
… He was afraid that they both deserved better than a broken down archangel with a bloodstained past.
But after so many eons having his heart, mind, and body twisted around into knots by fear, Michael has finally had enough.
He was tired of fear controlling his life. He was tired of fear pushing him to cross lines that very few come back from. He was tired of it.
And so- “Yes, I love her.” The archangel gave his answer, voice soft to match his close-lipped smile.
Lucifer nodded at that, seemingly satisfied with the answer. But his demeanor remained hard and serious. “I know that you don’t share my penchant for always telling the truth.”
Michael scoffed. “Really? Whatever gave that away?”
Lucifer ignored the comment. “I know that you have no qualms towards lying to me, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that our relationship… It won’t ever be what it once was, before the Rebellion, before the fall, before… everything.”
They both tensed at the mention of their ‘greatest hits’, according to the Bible. Neither one of them wished to reflect upon the fact that they were thick as thieves once. That they had once been quite the dynamic duo before resentments grew and families fell apart.
Lucifer then met the archangel’s eyes, and fixed him with a formidable stare. “But when it comes to Miss Lopez and Renee, you better be as honest as that Pinocchio chap whenever his nose is at it’s smallest. You better always be honest with them, and honest with yourself. You better not bugger this up, because… they are your second chance. And trust me, there won’t be a third afterwards. It’s now or nothing… brother.”
Michael swallowed as he absorbed that, and nodded. His own demeanor was just as serious, and just as tense. “I know. I can’t tell you for a fact that I won’t screw something up… But I can promise that I will try my damndest not to. That I’ll… I will do everything I can to be worthy of them.”
Lucifer was silent as he evaluated his twin, probably trying to spot a lie… but couldn’t find any. “Good. Because if you do anything, and I mean anything that harms Miss Lopez or her child-“
“Then you’ll rip off my thingamajig and beat me to death with it. I know. We’ve had this conversation before.” Michael interrupted dryly.
The first couple of times the threats have been intimidating, but now they had begun to sound like a broken record.
“Never hurts to have a reminder.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“In any case,” Lucifer fixed the cuff of his suit jacket absentmindedly as his expression softened when he addressed his twin. “This whole fatherhood fiasco, I promise you, Michael… It’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. It’s going to be bewildering, nauseating, terrifying, and downright demoralizing… But it’s also going to be the most rewarding experience of your life, and-“
Lucifer’s eyes traveled down to his own daughter, and a love so pure that it sometimes shocked the archangel filled the devil’s eyes when he saw his child. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever be more important than your child. You will never love someone or something as fiercely as you love her. And someday, you won’t be able to know how you survived living so long without her.”
Michael swallowed, and watched the nephilim beyond the glass. “I think I already know the feeling.”
Lucifer’s eyes traveled back up towards his twin’s, and something akin to pride filled them.
Lucifer’s had that same pride in his eyes whenever he believed Michael had made a breakthrough whenever they had their sessions. And that pride had shown like a spotlight when the majority of their siblings had deemed Michael reformed enough to be released from Hell.
Lucifer then cleared his throat, growing uncomfortable with one of the rare tender moments between them, and went to pick up his daughter.
“HEY!” Rory protested as her father held her in his arms, trapped from running amok again. “PUT ME DOWN!”
“I most certainly will not, young lady.” Lucifer sniffed in that pompous sounding Dad voice that he denied wholeheartedly of having. “You know that I’m all for youthful rebellion, i’ve in fact corrupted quite a few youths in my time, but it’s not alright when you rebel against me.”
Michael couldn’t help but snort. “Hypocrite.”
Lucifer laughed sarcastically with an eye roll. “Yes yes, attack the devil, such a fun trend.”
He then held the girl with one arm, and used the other to take out his red pocket square, and attempt to wipe the chocolate from her face. “We’ll have to clean off that evidence before your mother sees, then perhaps we can keep your criminal history between the three of us.”
“I thought you didn’t lie?” The archangel teased.
“I don’t. But if there’s no evidence, and if Chloe doesn’t ask any unfortunate questions, then not answering those unsaid questions wouldn’t be a lie, now would it?”
“That sounds convoluted.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk.”
Michael rolled his eyes, and dropped the topic at that.
Lucifer sighed in aggravation when the only thing the wiping accomplished was smearing the chocolate further on Rory’s face. “Bloody hell, did you have to go for the stickiest substance you can find? Honestly, Rory, one would think you’re being raised by hooligans rather than the devil.”
Lucifer tsked before leaving the hall in search of the restrooms. Before walking out of sight, he called out over his shoulder, “Remember what I promised, Mikey! You harm anyone with the last name Lopez, unless it’s one of Miss Lopez’s low-life brothers, that is… Then I’ll make your time in Hell look like a day at the spa.”
“A day at the spa actually does sound like Hell to me.” Michael retorted, remembering that he once read something online about seaweed wraps and stripping naked so that a stranger could rub their hands on you.
… Humans were strange.
————————
Sometime later, Michael was back in his and Ella’s private hospital room (Lucifer had happily pulled a few strings).
He sat in the pleather chair as he watched Ella interact with their baby. She was currently cringing uncomfortably as Renee nursed for the first time.
“Jeez,” Ella commented with a light laugh, eyes on the baby. “Decker and Lin weren’t kidding when they talked about the first nursing sesh being rough! I feel like a cow being milked in a barn.”
Michael chuckled lightly, which caused Ella to give him a playful glare.
She pointed an accusing finger in his direction. “Don’t laugh! I’m the one who has to do all the work! You just got to do the fun part, Mister. While I’m the one who actually incubated the next generation of angel hybrids, and started puking like a slushy machine gone haywire.”
Michael grimaced slightly when he remembered the ‘puking machine’ days… He had gone through a lot of sweaters in the first trimester (he never knew that it was physically possible for someone to spew that high).
Ella then turned her gaze towards Renee with a bright smile, then booped her on the nose. “You’re gonna be such a troublemaker, aren’t you, booger baby?” She cooed in a baby voice.
Michael blinked at her with furrowed brows. “Did you just… did you just call the child of one of the strongest archangels, a child who could potentially possess unknown powers… a booger baby?”
“Yep!” She replied brightly. “My booger baby angel girl.” Renee received another boop on the nose.
Michael could only lightly shake his head with a chuckle. He couldn’t help but wear a soft smile as he watched them.
Ella was like a beam of light (when she wasn’t physically assaulting you with her shoe and cussing like a truck driver in Spanish). She was one of those rare people who simply lit up a room when she entered it. She was a bottomless pit of kindness, yet stronger than even she believed.
When Ella had claimed in the past to accept him, faults and all, he had found himself often wondering if she was another miracle.
But there was no divine intervention regarding her existence. She was just Ella Lopez. A forensic scientist with a Star Trek obsession and pet chicken (who Michael swears has a personal vendetta against him).
And now, for some inexplicable reason, she was proud to call herself the mother of his child.
Michael sometimes found himself wondering if he would suddenly wake up, and find himself back in Hell. All of his time on Earth since after the war being a dream, or perhaps even a new form of torture.
But he never woke up. And either this was all real, or he hoped that the dream would never end.
“Michael?” Ella asked once Renee stopped nursing. The forensic scientist gave her archangel a small, if hesitant, smile. “Have you held Reny yet?”
Michael’s throat constricted at the nickname, since it sounded a little too close to Remy for comfort. But he had never vetoed calling her that, guilt stronger than the hurt regarding his lost sister.
His throat also constricted because no, he hasn’t. Michael hasn’t yet held the baby, nor so much as touched her.
He felt as if he was in one of those museums, where you could look around and admire the artifacts, but never touch, as to not risk breaking anything.
As to not risk breaking her.
Michael tried to swallow past the sudden dryness in his mouth. “No, not yet.”
Ella didn’t at first notice his apprehension, and gestured with a finger for him to come over. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Come get some cuddle action before I take it all!”
Michael remained still, feeling as if he was glued to the chair.
Ella’s smile dimmed, and concern was filling her eyes. “You okay?”
Michael opened his mouth with an I’m fine on the tip of his tongue, when he paused.
Lucifer’s words from earlier suddenly drifted into his mind. As Ella watched him patiently, Michael knew that he couldn’t lie. Not anymore.
“No, I’m not okay.”
Ella furrowed her brows, and her thumb absentmindedly caressed Renee through the blanket. She then swallowed, and wore a patient smile. “What’s wrong? Tell Mama Lopez all about it… Holy crud, I’ve been calling myself Mama Lopez for years, and it’s only now become literal.”
Ella’s eyes widened as her motherhood seemed to fully sink in, then after a few moments she shook it off, diverting her attention back to Michael.
He took a breath, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming conversation. “I… I don’t think I’m going to be a good father.”
Her patient smile melted away to be replaced by confusion and concern. “What? Why would you think that?”
Michael laughed with no true humor behind it. “Pick a sin. Lying, manipulation, jealousy, inflicting pain upon others, murder.”
Ella tensed at the last word, and her hold on the newborn tightened unconsciously. She took a deep breath, and took a minute to formulate her words.
“Look, Michael… I’m not naive or blind when it comes to the things you’ve done. I know what I’m getting myself into. I know about the war, I know about Remiel, I know about Da-“
Her voice caught on the last name, and her eyes glistened like they usually did when the topic of her friend came up. It was always a sore spot between them, and the reason it had taken so long for Ella to decide on giving the archangel a chance.
“I know about Dan…” She continued, and barely managed to keep her voice even. “I’m not gonna lie, you’ve done some pretty fucked up things in the past. You’ve done things that a lot of people will never forgive…”
The forensic scientist took a breath before continuing, eyes drifting between the fallen archangel and their daughter. “But I also know that those bad things, those monumentous mistakes, they aren’t all you are.”
A soft smile found its way to her face. “You’re also a guy who’s helplessly clueless when it comes to pop culture, I mean, who gets Star Trek and Star Wars confused? You’re also the guy who puts up with my chicken, even though the two of you have got some weird turf war going on.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at the last part. “You’re also the guy who didn’t complain when I made you go out three in the morning for craving runs. You’re also the guy who… who despite everything, is now trying to become better. To be good.”
Ella’s smile became bittersweet, and she shrugged lightly. “I’m also not naive enough to think that I can fix you. And frankly, that’s not my job. I can help you, and maybe even give you motivation to be better. But the only person who can truly make you a better person, is you. You’re the only one who can make you grow as a person. You’re the only one who can determine whether you’re even capable of redemption.”
Ella bit her lip for a moment, letting that sink in. “And you are changing. You have changed. You’ve accepted the blame for everything you’ve done. You’re remorseful, and trying to right your mistakes. You’re relationship with Lucifer is improving, compared to before. You’re in therapy with Linda. You’ve served your prison sentence for your crimes, and now, it’s time to heal.”
Michael swallowed as his eyes diverted from hers, settling on the floor. “I’m not healed, Ella. I’m still broken.”
Ella’s eyes glistened a bit more, but she managed to hold her tears back. “No, you’re not healed. And yes, you are broken.”
She agreed softly. “But you’re healing. Broken isn’t the same as unfixable. I know it’s not easy. No one expects you to suddenly be perfect overnight. Changing, growing, healing… It takes time. And Mikey, we have time.”
Ella gently stroked Renee’s small tufts of dark hair affectionately. “As long as you’re here for the long run, as long as you love us, as long as you continue to heal, and as long as you don’t hurt us… Then time won’t be the worse thing.”
Michael couldn’t help but feel disbelief when Ella said things like this. When she was so kind, patient, and understanding. “You both deserve so much more than a broken archangel.”
A tear finally escaped her eye, and she wore a bittersweet smile. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that you are more than a broken archangel. The funny thing about falling… is that it gives you the opportunity to rise.”
Michael didn’t notice until now that his own eyes had become frustratingly wet, and he quickly wiped the tears on his sweater sleeve before they had the chance to fall.
Ella mercifully didn’t address it, save for her smile sweetening. “Now, come hold our baby, Dad.”
The word Dad momentarily knocked the breath out of him. Not once has he ever been called that before, and the realization that the word now applied to him, was rattling.
But instead of the familiar feeling of paralyzing fear, he felt a warm feeling of awe. Awe and… love.
Love for the woman who insisted on believing in him, love for the newborn who was a blank slate full of possibility, and love for his second chance.
So with that, Michael stood from the chair, and made his way to the bed.
He carefully sat down beside Ella, who shifted to the side to make room. He stretched his long legs along the length of the bed, and hesitated before allowing Ella to place their daughter in his arms.
Michael trembled slightly as he held her, and barely moved, afraid that she might crack like porcelain with one wrong move.
Ella leaned her head against his shoulder, and smiled down at the baby. “Can you believe we made that?”
Michael let out a watery laugh, and couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little piece of him and Ella. Hopefully the best parts. “Not really. Can you?”
“Honestly? I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I actually grew a whole person inside of me… Biology is nuts.”
“Yeah… My father might have had a few bottles of nectar before going to the drawing board.” Michael joked.
Ella was about to laugh, then seemed to think about. “Oh god, that would make so much sense.”
They both laughed at that, the heaviness of the conversation before softening.
Michael lightly shook his head as he looked at Renee Remiel Lopez.
They had chosen the name Renee mostly because it had been the name of Ella’s late grandmother, who she was very close to growing up.
But to Michael, the name also held another meaning. It meant reborn. Second chances. A new beginning.
And in a way, both father and daughter had been born that day. Renee was born for the first time, completely new and full of potential. While Michael was reborn in a much messier way, accepting the pain of the past, and trying to forge a new path.
As the little family sat together in the hospital room, something that no one could accomplish in millennial, happened.
For the first time since the Rebellion, the Archangel’s crippled shoulder’s slope wasn’t as prominent or sore as usual.
The pain was still there, but was finally healing.