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a thousand stars glimmer overhead, bathing the deserted beach in their light. the moon, bright with borrowed light, gives illumination to the scene below. the archangel crosses the beach with wide, slow strides, towards the boat that sits beached on the sand, leached of its color by the moon. the waves lap gently on the shore, their gentle beat the only sound aside from the archangel’s ragged breath.
yet, it is not the weight in michael’s arms that so robs him of breath. in truth, were it any other weight, he would not feel it at all, but this weight is too much, even for the archangel. michael stops beside the boat, just next to the salty water, and gently lowers his burden to the ground. he pulls a rag from his pocket, dips it into the ocean, and turns back.
the blood, though everywhere, is dried. michael’s large hand frames his brother’s face as the other begins wiping away the ichor. he works steadily, and it’s not long before his hands are drenched in lucifer’s blood. it sticks to his clothes, a dark stain to remind him of the dark deed that brought him here. he cleans the blood from lucifer’s own hands, once so strong, but now lifeless in his own.
when he can see his brother’s face, no longer obscured by the blood and gore from the fight, something cracks inside of him. the rag lands with a heavy thump in the sand beside him, and michael’s other hand comes to cradle his brother’s head. he doesn’t even try to hold back the tears swimming in his eyes, pouring over his cheeks. the salt drips from his face onto lucifer’s, shimmering on his brother’s cheeks, his lips, his jaw.
michael bends, sobs wracking his body. he leans his forehead against his brother’s. his corpse is still warm, despite the hours since his death. his death at your hands, michael. you and your siblings did this. you murdered your own brother. he’s gone. the best of you, the greatest. he’s gone, and it’s all your fault.
when his head comes back up, his whole body still shakes with the guilt of what he’s done. though his legs buckle dangerously, he pulls his brother’s body into his arms once again, supporting lucifer’s head against his chest. his mouth presses into a hard line so that he won’t taste the tears that still bathe his cheeks. he lowers the body into the cushioned coffin, and arranges lucifer’s hands over his heart, the heart that heaven's wrath had torn apart. with the wound covered, and his face cleaned of blood, michael could almost pretend his brother was just asleep.
“ you didn’t deserve this. “ the words are whispered into the night air. “ you deserved so much better. “ michael leans forward, smoothing his brother’s hair back to press his lips to his forehead. his sobs are silent now, body shaking with the remorse of his violence. “ may you find peace, brother, wherever your spirit may be. “
it takes every inch of willpower for michael to pull back from his brother’s corpse. he scrubs the tears from his eyes with the back of one hand. he left the coffin door open, so lucifer could have seen the stars he loved, and with a mighty heave, michael pushes the boat into open water. the current is quick to pick it up, pulling lucifer out to sea.
michael gives into his trembling legs, falling to his knees as he watches his brother begin to grow smaller in the distance. tears continue to fall, silent and hot on his skin. he has to get them out now. between them, gabriel has always been the one with the heart too big. he needs to be strong for his twin. but here, alone in the silence with the stars, he cries. the archangel kneels in the waves that try to pull him out to join his brother. he kneels, he cries, and he mourns for the fall of god’s brightest star.