Gospel of Michael - Part 1
After a while, Mike had given up completely on the idea of meeting him once again. For a few years he still thought they would meet, suddenly, at the least expected time. He looked around, searching for him, whenever he went out, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the supermarket, or in the line to the clinic, or just passing by him on the street. He kept looking around for what felt like decades, anticipating - though not without some fear - the upcoming meeting.Â
But it didn’t happen. It was a big country, and an even bigger world, and by now the chances of them meeting again were too slim to be considered. Even if they did meet, would he recognise him? The last time they ever saw each other Mike was only in his early teens, young and confused. He was no longer a teen (though girls tended to say he had a baby face), and even though he believed he didn’t look so vastly different, he was certain that he’d be very different in the eyes of someone who hadn’t met him in over a decade…Â
Eventually he stopped looking around, stopped asking himself if every man who showed any sort of resemblance to him was, in fact, the man he was looking for.Â
It took a few years, but he had finally accepted the fact that he would not meet his older brother again, at the ice cream parlor, with a woman by his side and a little child holding his hand.Â
He gave up on the idea of their eyes crossing, for a moment, before each of them looked away while telling themselves it couldn’t be.Â
He didn’t change at all.
Mike looked up again to see the man staring directly at him, with bright eyes that he had learned to recognise so well. There could be no mistake. No person had a pair of eyes similar to that…Â
Mike was looking straight into the eyes of the man he learned to call Satan.
The man went down on one knee, speaking quietly to the boy who was holding his hand, before standing up again. The boy left his arm, moving to cling on his mother’s leg, as the male went to face his presumed brother.Â
For a moment they did not talk, each one of them inspecting the other worriedly.
 That was the moment Mike anticipated for years. For years he imagined this meeting, this exchange of glances, the weight on his chest that wouldn’t allow him to breathe properly. For years he imagined the man approaching him, looking right into his eyes with the bright orbs Mike used to admire as a child…
But Mike discovered that he never imagined anything past that. He didn’t know what to say, or what to do. He didn’t even know what he thought of this man, the man who had caused havoc and torn apart his own home.Â
Perhaps he should forgive him, as his education demanded. Perhaps he should beg for his forgiveness, as his conscience demanded. Perhaps he should just leave, as far away as possible, as his stomach demanded…Â
He looked up to the other’s face, meeting with his piercing eyes. Mike discovered that in those eyes, like in his own, there were tears.Â
The young man extended a hand, keeping his insistent glance on the other male.Â
“You’ve hurt me, Michael.” The man’s voice, too, was just like he remembered.Â
Mike’s hand trembled as he struggled to keep it in place and not take it away in response to the devil’s accusation. “So did you, Lucifer. You’ve hurt all of us.”
He could barely see a thing past the wall of tears that covered his eyes, blocking his vision. He blinked, feeling the tears leaving his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as new tears came in their place.
Silence spread between them as his brother examined him. Through his tears Mike could not tell the nature of that glance - was it dismay? Contempt?Â
After a few more moments he swallowed, letting the hand drop by his side. He offered reconciliation. He offered his hand to the man who had destroyed his house and made him lose one third of his family. He offered forgiveness to the one who betrayed those who gave him all he had... It was this man to whom he offered this gesture, and this man declined it.Â
He would have turned and left, letting him return to his wife and his child. A strong pair of arms stopped him - they wrapped around him, pulling him closer to his lost brother.Â
His tears couldn’t be stopped anymore, streaming down his cheeks and unto the other’s jacket as his own arms were sent to hold the familiar figure.Â
“I missed you.” He sobbed, between one shallow breathe to another. “I missed you so much.”
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