Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Michael groans and rubs his burning eyes. How Samael ever managed to manage Hell is beyond him if LUX’s books are anything to go by. The numbers had started dancing before his eyes long before he forgot to drink the heart-stopping cup of coffee he made himself an hour ago. His forehead thumps onto a page containing rows of scribbled lines all laughing at his misery. Michael covers his weary head with his arms, silently begging for a respite. He's about to nod off when a blood curdling scream rends the night. 

Michael surges to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the floor while his wings snap into existence, sharp, dark, and deadly. A softer cry has him stand down immediately. Sounds like the other Michael is having nightmares again. He looks at the time and furls his wings with a sigh. It's long past bedtime anyway. Might as well give up on his Sisyphean task before it crushes him. Michael yawns broadly, stretching his back and shoulders before trundling towards the bedroom, fully intent on first settling the other angel and then falling into a hopefully dreamless deep himself, and freezes.

The other Michael is looking up at him, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. His hair is drenched with sweat and he’s holding what looks like a massive gold-speckled egg that he’s sure wasn't there before!

"H-how?" he stutters. “Where did that… How did that even–” He gestures at the other Michael's groin, feeling fainter by the second. “It's massive!”

The other Michael shakes his head, looking still halfway panicked but thankfully not horrifically traumatized. "You remember when we– were talking about m-me balancing within myself?"

"Yeah...?" 

“What if– What if that includes the-the Demiurge?”

Michael feels his stomach drop though that option does sound slightly less painful than the first. “So, what if it does?”

"Well…” The other angel looks down at the egg, brushing his fingers against its shell. “That means I'm now pregnant, I guess…” He giggles hysterically before muffling himself with his hand. “Surprise."

No way…

"Soooooooo... is this like an immaculate conception, or..." The rest of his sentence disappears into a barely audible whine while he surreptitiously tries to edge out the door and away from what can only be a nightmare. 

Wake up!

"Oh it's definitely yours!" the other Michael growls viciously, his eyes flashing, and Michael barely keeps himself from squeaking in manly fright.

Woah, those pregnancy hormones sure kick in fast!

“I'm eh…” Michael points his thumb at the door. “Ella has a chicken, right? I mean… she'd know about eggs…and–?” 

The room darkens and Michael's nerves are screaming at him to run!

“If you dare leave now, I'll have your balls for breakfast. Fried!”

Eep!

“Ok, ok…” Michael raises his hands placatingly, leaving only a wrangled lump of metal where the door handle was. He inches towards the nest, unsure if he's actually welcome in it or not, but the other angel scoots over, still holding his– their(?) egg, leaving him with enough room to squeeze in. He undresses quickly and gingerly slips under the blankets. Should he start wearing boxers to bed now? You know… having an… egg around?

“You wanna hold it?”

Oh fuck, Dad, no! he thinks. “Yeah, give it to me,” he mumbles instead. Michael reaches for the egg with trembling hands, sucking in a shocked breath when his fingers touch the hard shell. “Oh, it's warm…”

Well, of course it's warm you idiot, he growls to himself. It's an egg! Eggs are supposed to be warm. 

He settles it against his chest before burrowing deeper under the blankets.

This is actually kind of nice.

Michael strokes the shell, tracing the speckles with his fingertips.

“Do you think it's alive?” he asks curiously.

“I dunno.” The other angel sounds exhausted. “Could ask Lucifer to candle it– tomorrow to– yawn– check...”

Michael glances at his drowsy lover and smiles. Would it really be so bad to become a parent?

“Sure.”

Chapter Text

But as life tends to do, by the time they woke up from their egg-induced slumber, Lucifer had apparently been called in on a case, the Mazes were off doing Dad knows what with Eve somewhere, and the only woman left who's not on the case and is a mother is Linda. So, Michael had swallowed his pride and his intense… dislike for Amenadiel, and had the other Michael call her over.

Linda Martin, therapist to the Devil, stares at their egg as if she can't quite believe it's real. She almost reaches for it, but seems to think better of it when the other Michael's wings puff up, choosing instead to admire from afar. A sensible woman. 

“That's a big… egg.” The human pushes her glasses further up her nose as if that would somehow help with the size. “Very big… how… uhm…” She turns to him, her question glaringly visible on her face while she makes a flowerbud opening gesture with her hands, subconsciously holding her breath. 

“Not like that,” Michael snaps, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Definitely not like that!”

“Ah, that's… that's good.” The human puffs in obvious relief and maybe it's the light, or maybe it's the fact he's just laid, ‘created(?)’ an egg and may or may not be hormonal, but it almost seems as if she was worried for him?

“So… angels 'expel’ eggs?” 

Well, at least the human also doesn't feel comfortable using… that word, which elevates his opinion of her compared to humanity in general, but only a little bit. She still managed to beget a love Nephil by Amenadiel. Amenadiel! 

“Not that we know of,” the other Michael answers for him while he allows himself a little dismemberment fantasy. 

“There's never… I mean, we were made fully grown, and besides Amenadiel's oopsie baby with– eh– you, there has never been… we've never had…” The other waves his hand looking helplessly tongue-tied. “This.”

Michael nods along trying to stay calm. In his universe it's been the same. Only Mom and Dad had angels, and angels had Nephilim if any. 

“Still, it looks quite big, even if you compare it with a human placenta and amniotic sac,” Linda says, gracefully ignoring the jab at Chucky's unplanned existence. “Do you think there's a double yolk in there?”

“A what?” Michael asks, not quite comprehending, still too bowled over by the fact that they somehow… ‘acquired’ an egg. 

“A double yolk,” she says as if explaining to a child. “Like, sometimes you get one of those eggs that's a lot bigger than the others and when you crack it open in the pan, there are usually… two…”

The human thankfully stops talking because Michael suddenly feels rather faint. 

“Twins?” “Crack it?” they ask at the same time followed by a decidedly higher pitched ‘twins’ from the other Michael. Talk about triggering imagery, geez. The other Michael hugs the egg he hasn't let go of since last night to his chest, huffing and puffing, and smothering it in shadow to hide it from Linda's egg molesting hands. 

The human smiles and shakes her head pityingly. “Having twins isn't the end of the world, you know. I'm sure it'll be fine, but you can't keep carrying it around like that, Michael,” she admonishes him, them both, who knows. 

“Do you have hot water bottles on hand? No?” She starts bustling about, entering and then messing with their nest, obviously unaware of the danger. “There.” She reaches for the egg. “Come to your auntie Linda,” she sing-songs, snatching it from the other Michael's arms without even a by your leave.

“My little Charlie is going to love spending time with you. He's a genius, you know.” She lovingly boops the top of the egg before burying it in a smaller nest within their big one. “There, turn it at least 5 times a day, and don't let it cool. So, which one of you is going to be a stay at home angel?”

Chapter Text

Lucifer enjoys the look of sheer disbelief on Amenadiel's face when told about the egg and the Michaels caring for it like the lovebirds that they are. His brother sputters a few denials, rubs his hands over his gleaming bald head, and then throws them up beseechingly as if Dad had anything to do with it. 

Where are your ThEoRiEs now, huh? 

The Michaels had appeared in his penthouse late last night looking pale and haggard, carrying a huge gold-speckled egg carefully wrapped in a blanket, asking if he'd be willing to shine his light on it, or rather through it, to check for life. 

Lucifer pours both himself and the Eldest a drink to celebrate the result, because immediately as he picked it up there was no denying the warmth and the divinity swirling around inside the hard shell, and when he placed his glowing hands against its chalky bottom, a network of dark veins had shown up. All thrumming with life. Sprawled across the inside of the shell like a vast expanse of rivers all leading to a dark little lump happily floating around inside. He couldn't tell if there were two or not, but it's definitely alive. 

Lucifer tips his glass down in a silent toast, remembering the mix of dread and relief on their mirrored faces. How carefully the other Michael had gathered their egg, with the softest smile he'd ever seen on any Michael, and the nervous hovering of his twin, the other father to be.

"I'm going to be an uncle…" he murmurs, still a little in disbelief himself. “I'm going to be an uncle!” 

Lucifer turns to smack Amenadiel's shoulder jovially, smiling broadly at the thought of his twin becoming a father.

He's going to be an uncle! 

One might have to squint a little in regards to the sex of the biological parents. How his twin even managed to knock up another male will probably remain a mystery forever, but everyone knows how an egg ‘happens’ despite his Michael-in-law's vehement denials of how said egg ‘emerged’ into the world. Kinky sonofaMom. Well, at least that answers the age old question of what came before, the angel or the egg.

Lucifer grins, feeling proud of Michiurgos, because despite the wonky biology and a general lack of logic, it's obviously theirs. 

Which makes him an uncle to be.

Oh, how he hopes it will turn out to be a boy. Lucifer can already see them go out for a night on the town where he will teach the lad how to hold his liquor, or how to use his manly whiles to snag himself a Brittany or four for an evening of fun. Maybe a few Bradleys too if he so prefers. Though on second thought, having a girl would be wonderful too. He could teach her all of the same. Hell, he could be her wingman. 

Potentially their wingman. Ooohhhh!  

What if it does turn out to be twins. What if they get one of each? So many possibilities when you've got one of each! Shopping, stripclubs, matching mani-pedis, vintage cars, dinner at the finest restaurants…

"You're already an uncle," Amenadiel's annoyed voice stabs through his happy little daydream. 

"Shhh shh shh..." Lucifer puts his finger to Amenadiel's lips, but then he's hit with another thought. "Do you think they want me to be its Godf– its Deviluncle?” he asks before shaking his head. “No. Don't answer that,” he cuts off his brother before he can speak. “You're right, they will!”

Lucifer quickly unlocks his phone and starts making calls. 

“Do you think we should have a gender reveal party to go with the baby shower?” 

Once again, Amenadiel opens his mouth to reply, but then the waiting room music stops and Lucifer grins. “He-llo… yes… golden balloons, uh-huh… Thanks, brother,” he whispers to Amenadiel, holding his hand over the receiver "...a hundred?"

“You're welcome,” Amenadiel rumbles before beating a hasty retreat. He's not getting paid enough for this. 

Chapter Text

Lucifer flits about the party like a good host. Offering refreshments. Checking off gifts from the register, you know, good solid Goduncle stuff! And it's a good thing too, because where the Michaels were already boring, “motherhood” seems to have made them even worse!

Michael, his Michael glowers at anyone even mildly interested in coming closer to admire the blushing baby– egg, whilst the other Michael looks slightly dazed as if he'd never had a party thrown at him before. 

Lucifer humphs and makes his way over to the table stacked high with pastel coloured gifts. There's the usual things like baby clothes and diapers, booooringg, but thankfully someone thought to bring the egg-liquor-scented lube and pot-laced merengues for some much needed relaxation.

He idly sifts through the Michaels’ presents. Ah, and there are the eggs of a more sinful kind, thank you Maze. And condoms, because everyone knows how babies are made and from the looks of it, his twin-in-law isn't too keen on repeating the experience that brought their egg into the world. Not that anyone knows how.

Lucifer sees his not-so-young-anymore Beatrice meander dangerously close to his twin and his egg, an Easter Egg dyeing kit in her hands, no doubt conspiring with the other Maze who is grinning wickedly. He moves to intercept, but quite shockingly, his twin just takes it with what could be construed as a smile– A SMILE! Seems that he does have a soft spot after all.

Speaking of soft spots…

Lucifer reaches his brother who looks slightly worse for wear after weeks of keeping the egg warm and safe and pats his abdomen with a grin. 

“Getting a little pudgy around the middle there, Michael. Either you are getting too much sugar or…” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, “not enough ‘exercise’.”

Michael tries to smack him upside the head but Lucifer dances out of the way easily. 

“I'm getting more than enough exercise,” he growls hotly, but the sharp huff and the unfulfilled desire burning in the other Michael's dark eyes tell a different story. 

Lucifer rolls his eyes. His twin is such a worrywart. None of their sisters ever got pregnant and not for lack of trying, and amongst their brothers only Amenadiel managed to become human enough to breed. Michael is probably not taking any chances though, which obviously resulted in marital strife. Hence the listing of condoms. A brilliant idea if he does say so himself. No swimmers, no eggs, right?

“...sleepless nights where he would just cry and cry and nothing could settle him…” Eve laments, followed by an answering hum from the Doctor.

“Oh yeah, so many night drives…” the Detective adds to the picture of exhausted misery.

Michael looks down at his egg, his expression tight, his hand covering it protectively. This morning's candling had shown considerable growth and they all had felt the first fleeting touch of its newly made soul.

“...breastfeeding constantly as if he were obsessed with them,” Eve continues.

“... and don't get me started on the cost of diapers… So. Many. Diapers!” Linda exclaims.

“Oh yeah, and when they get older there's clothes, books, exorbitant fees to get them into a good school…”

“But there's love too, right?” his twin asks suddenly and it seems that worry is mirrored in the other Michael too.

The women immediately fall over themselves to explain that there is. About how fulfilling motherhood is, and how amazing their children are. But he knows both Michaels can sense the fears even Lucifer recognizes through their loudly trumpeted desires and their deep guilt. The desire to have some alone time vs the guilt of not spending every waking moment with their children. To provide a stable home. To set a good example. To not have to worry about money, the future, and what other women think of them. To not feel alone all the time…

His Michael-in-law looks downcast, his twin tense, and Lucifer wishes his own parents had ever desired like this.

Chapter Text

It's late at night and Michael finds himself pelted with pillows, blankets, and a box of unused condoms, and he's feeling thoroughly out of his depth. Ever since the egg had ‘turned up’ he'd been bouncing between cloud nine and the pits of dark despair. Like you'd expect from an expecting angel, he guesses. 

A bitten off curse sends him skittering out of the way of his angry lover, the father of his egg, the mother hen who all but evicted him from his own nest! Like who made the egg here, huh? Who?

He'd been flying back and forth between the nest and various coffee places like a good mate, because the other Michael tends to get extra grumpy if he doesn't get the good stuff. His preferences change at the drop of a hat though and more than once Michael's sweet offerings have been rejected. Thoroughly. 

The other Michael bustles around the egg, aggressively fixing whatever they messed up by TRYING to have sex! Another storm of muffled curses and half-complaints threatens to set him off explosively and with a colossal feat of unappreciated self-control he doesn't snap back, because he knows this behavior is born from worry.

And he gets it, he really does! 

He'd just hoped to relax the other angel with a nice slow bout of lovemaking, but when he'd lifted the other’s sweater and kissed his way down that now soft and cuddly belly he'd gotten all but jeeted by an irate mate who'd resolutely told him ‘no’. 

Michael crosses his arms and leans against the door. Seems like he made his nest, now he's gotta lie in it. 

The other angel suddenly throws up his hands with a frustrated roar before slumping down in the center of their now decimated nest. He looks like he's caved in completely. Too many sleepless nights worrying. Too much energy expended on planning and replanning. Not enough help being accepted. 

A rough sob cracks the silence which gets muffled almost instantly behind a trembling hand. “If I can't even manage this, how am I ever going to be a good parent?” The other angel whispers through his fingers, and oh he sounds so small.

Michael sighs and slowly edges closer to the nest, picking up pillows along the way. “You are already a good parent, Michael.” He shrugs. “Better than what we had for sure.”

That pulls a disbelieving cackle from his beloved and sure, he knows that particular bar is really low, but he also knows their child will grow up in a family they chose! 

“Michael.” He kneels in front of the other Michael, offering him a mustard colored pillow and then a floral one. “The fact that you worry for it means you already care. Look at me.” 

He lifts the other angel's chin and waits for him to make eye contact before kissing him softly on the lips. “You are spending most of your time…” incubating(?) “...guarding our egg. You are even letting yourself slip–”

That gets him a dangerous narrowing of eyes so he hurries to correct. “You are the father of my children and an angel.” Michael reaches for the other Michael's now ‘less defined’ torso. “You can get back into shape in no time… Not that I don't like the shape you're in now!” He quickly adds when those brows drop to join forces with those dark eyes and the other Michael's lips thin into a sharp line.

“Keep digging that hole deeper why don't you…” the other Michael rumbles and Michael freezes upon hearing the raw darkness in that voice. 

“Oh, damn that's so sexy…” Michael gasps and decides then and there to wrestle the other angel to the bed, one way or another. 

The other Michael huffs and rolls his eyes, but then a wicked smile starts to curl around those lips. “Get the condoms. Let's see how long you can hold a plank.” 

Now there's a challenge Michael doesn't mind losing.

“Yes sir!”

Chapter Text

Michael lies flat on his back and sighs. He stares up at the rays of the rising sun merrily chasing each other across his ceiling, their glow emphasized by the egg that's growing brighter every day. He sighs again. One good lay in a halfway deconstructed nest isn't enough to keep him from going mad with worry. How humans deal with this for nine freaking months is beyond him.

The other Michael had fled left as soon as they woke up. To get his favorites from a bakery in Gölcük no less. The finest baklava in the world. Michael feels his very soul leave his body on his next mournful sigh and he pinches his growing belly. He has let himself go, but to his defense there's only so much time one can spend with an egg before boredom strikes.

Michael reaches for the egg and gently taps the speckled shell with his fingertip. “Time for you to hatch, little one…” he murmurs, “Another week of this will have daddy end up looking like that puffy Michelin guy.” 

He pointedly ignores the human misuse of his God-given name and presses a kiss to the top of the egg. “I can't wait to meet you,” he says with a smile before getting up to try and do at least some light exercise. 

He draws one arm across his chest to stretch his shoulder when he hears a crack. Wow, he must be worse off than he thought. Perhaps he owes the other Michael an apology… 

Michael bends down to touch his toes when another, louder crack sounds and this time he's sure it's not him. Michael turns around slowly, his eyes wide, his heart beating loudly.

“No way…” he breathes.

The egg is showing a mighty crack and a bulge where something is pipping at it from the inside. 

Not something…

“Oh Hell.”

Michael panics. He's alone and the baby is coming now! He tries to puff away labor like he's read in one of those pregnancy books Amenadiel dropped off. It might not help with the egg, but it may help him not break down completely. 

“No no no no!"

He tries to reassemble the pieces of shell that have broken off.

“Michael…” 

Someone's calling his name and he can feel the drain on his divinity, his time, and his bank account. College is massively expensive these days and what if they ARE twins?!

“Please, not yet,” he begs futilely, but the egg keeps cracking and more and more pieces are falling off. 

He can't do this.

“Michael!” 

This can't be happening!

“MICHAEL!”

He jerks awake, his flailing arms sending his calculator and load of cheap pens to the floor. Michael looks around, disoriented, before his eyes land on the other Michael.

Michael!

“It's hatching!” Michael stands, toppling his chair. 

“What's hatching?” The other looks at him as if he doesn't remember.

“Your egg, OUR egg!” he exclaims hotly. 

“We have an egg?” the other Michael drawls slowly, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. 

“Yes! How can you not–” Michael's gaze lands on LUX's books scattered across the table, noting the date.

It was all a dream…

Michael's shoulders sag and he slumps against the table. “I mean… I thought we had. It all felt so real.”

“You’d want to have an egg with me?” the other Michael asks, stunned, and while his first instinct is to say no, he ends up saying yes. It's impossible he knows, but a deep sense of loss punches him right in the gut anyway. 

The other angel looks at him with faintly glowing eyes. He puts his hands on Michael's hips before stepping between his knees and dipping his head to kiss him. 

“I would like that too. So, how big was this egg?” he asks curiously, and Michael holds his hands apart, his body remembering what wasn't even real. 

The other Michael stares at them dumbstruck before growing deathly pale. 

“Oh Hell no!”

He stumbles back.

“Hard no!” 

The end

Or is it?