rexinflata:
Cecily gasped, suddenly stood and turned, shaking as she stared at her eldest brother with wide eyes. He…He was here. Answering her prayers. He had never done that, had never given an inkling…
“Michael….” she breathed, reaching out with a shaking hand. “It’s….Is it really you?”
She had imagined this moment, the tearful reunion. Imagined Michael holding her close in his arms as he assured her it would be alright.But it was never alright and the fact that Michael was here made her eyes well with tears.
“No.”
It sounded so harsh, and for a moment he had to close his eyes. The finality in that single syllable bore such resemblance to the finality in his Father’s final words to him – that final goodbye – that he nearly choked on a sob. Nearly. And he wanted desperately to lie to her – this small, sad thing that stood staring up at him with such admiration and hope – but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was her Michael. It took a moment to find his voice.
“I am sorry, sister, but I am not your Michael. I have come from….elsewhere. Your Michael is….” He had to take a moment to search for himself, and his brows drew together when he couldn’t immediately find this world’s Michael. “–Gone. Perhaps dead, perhaps hiding. I am sorry, it seems that he does not want to be found.”
The Fallen one flinched at his tone, skittered back as she withdrew her hand as if he’d struck her. And in a way, he had. This wasn’t....This wasn’t her world’s Michael, but he was still her Michael. Right?
Biting her lip, she looked down, brushed away the tear. “O-Oh.” she breathed.
But what was....
“What do you mean gone? Michael isn’t...My Michael isn’t....I would have felt if he had died....”
