summary: the reader has always been close with Ms. Mead. growing up, she went to her neighbor for comfort, hiding from her abusive parents. but one day, she just disappears. when she comes back, michael is there, on a path to purify the world.
pairing: michael x reader
word count: 3.9k words
warnings: talks of the antichrist, religious undertones, abusive parents, physical abuse, reader ends up in hospital, reader is stabbed but nothing is said other than she was stabbed, cussing, blood, death, major character death (mead), follows the plotline in the show but not exactly
a/n: no notes, head empty. also word count could be 4k but it was like 90 words off and yeah
Ms. Mead was always there for [Your name]. No matter what had happened, no matter how her parents had treated her, Ms. Mead was there. Her parents would hurt her, tease her, ridicule her for her relationship with the renowned Satanist. They hated the fact that their little “angel” was friends with such a nasty type of woman—and even though they were hypocritical to the highest extent, they stood by that. She helped to patch her up on particularly bad days. Ms. Mead had offered time and time again for [Your name] to take a bed in her home, but [Your name] never accepted the offer. She already helped so much—she never wanted to burden her even more. Not to mention the fact that Ms. Mead hardly knew of everything that occurred. [Your name] quite often kept most of what happened to herself.
Ms. Mead was more of a parent to her more than her shitty birth parents. And when [Your name] went missing, she was understandably concerned. However, Michael had shown up. There wasn’t much she could do to find you, especially since you were never listed as missing with the local law enforcement, and the two of them (Ms. Mead and Michael) had yet to figure out just how far Michael’s powers would go, and how soon it would take for him to grow into them.
Ms. Mead waited anxiously for you to return, from wherever you had run off to.
It was nearly two weeks after Michael had gotten there. Two weeks of Ms. Mead leading Michael around and showing him how to live—showing him what life was all about with the loving care of a Satanist mother.
On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, Michael sat at the dining room table, eating a ham and cheese sandwich. Ms. Mead was washing dishes, looking over at the boy as a knock sounded at the door.
“Do you mind getting that? I’ll be right there, I just have a few more to do.”
Michael gave a small nod, and he sat his sandwich down before he stood and walked over to the front door. He opened it without wasting a second, seeing a battered woman standing there. He furrowed his eyebrows at the woman, looking at her arm slung in a cast and her bruised eye and split lip. She uncomfortably shifted on her leg—while she didn’t have anything on it, it was obvious that she had hurt it. If she were to bend down, surely her abdomen would kill her.
“Is… is Miriam here?” she asked.
“Who are you?”
The black-haired woman showed up behind Michael. Her eyes went wide. “[Your name]?” She quickly moved to hug her. [Your name] flinched but she hugged back, carefully using her other arm to pat her back.
Michael could see the healing bruises that littered her arms. “Where the hell have you been, girl?” she asked, looking at her in disbelief. “What happened to you?”
She took her free hand and turned to look at Michael. “Shut and lock the door behind us. Can you get her a change of clothes? Just sweatpants and a shirt. Hurry.”
Michael blinked slowly but did as he was told.
Ms. Mead lead [Your name] into the dining room, sitting her down. She brushed some of the hair out of her face back as she sat across from her.
“I looked for you, but I couldn’t find anything. Where were you? Did you lose your phone? What happened to the one I gave you for emergencies?”
[Your name]’s beautiful eyes couldn’t meet hers. She shifted in her seat, taking in a sharp breath when her stomach slightly rubbed against the table she was seated at. The last time Miriam had interrogated her like this was when she had accidentally broken her sofa and not said anything—and that was nearly seven years ago.
“Uh,” she closed her eyes.
“I got them,” Michael interrupted. Of course, he didn’t know he had. He brought the clothes over and sat them beside Ms. Mead before he sat back down at his sandwich. He attempted to ignore them but found himself listening to their conversation anyway.
“He found it.”
Miriam’s eyes widened. “What?”
[Your name] just shrugged, wincing as she did that. “Yeah. He found my emergency phone. And then, he found my go back. I… I had it packed. I was ready to leave, Miriam,” she said, leaning back against her seat. “I was ready to leave and come here,” [Your name] weakly smiled. “Guess that didn’t happen.”
“Wait, wait, what does all this have—” Miriam stopped herself. “What did your father do to you?” she softly asked, her warm hand going over the top of [Your name]’s.
“He beat me until I was unconscious, and then I guess he and my mom dropped me off at the hospital. I didn’t have anything on me. My ID is gone, I don’t have my phone. Everything was stripped off of me save for my clothes. They said I had gone into a coma, but like… they also had to do an emergency surgery because I had been stabbed.”
“He stabbed you?” Miriam felt her face burn with rage. She couldn’t believe this. She knew [Your name]’s parents were shit, but she never believed they would do anything like that.
She gave a small nod. “They’re gonna have to bill me somehow. I… I might have given them a fake name when I came to. Let’s see if they can. That’s also… probably why you couldn’t find me,” she weakly smiled.
“What did you use?”
“Lucy Moore.”
Miriam rolled her eyes. “Of course, you did. I wondered why that sounded so familiar. I saw it in the newspaper but didn’t think much about it. Damn. You’ve used that since you were a child,” she huffed softly. “You’ve been there for nearly two weeks, [Your name]. Are you okay?”
[Your name] shrugged. “I’m as good as I can be, Miriam. There’s not much to be said.”
Michael hadn’t touched his food. He stared at the [color] haired woman for the longest time before he spoke up.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “You’re not home?”
Miriam looked over at the boy with a frown. “Michael.”
“No, he’s got a point,” [Your name] sighed. “I can’t go back. Not because of this. But… Miriam, they’re gone. They’ve completely moved out. Left and everything. The house is on the market. Saw the sign when I was walking by.”
“You walked all the way here?” Michael asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “From the hospital?”
“Took me about an hour, but yeah,” [Your name] said.
The resilience she had made Michael’s heart skip a beat. But perhaps that was also from the immense anger building up in the pit of his stomach for two people that he had never met. Michael clenched his fists under the table, looking towards his half-eaten sandwich with a type of malice that would burn a human.
His sandwich lit on fire—the bread and meat and cheese immediately being consumed by reds, oranges, and yellows.
[Your name]’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned to face him, despite the burning pain she felt from doing so.
Miriam watched with wide eyes, a smile growing on her lips. When the fire had completely gone out, as it was only contained to his food, she grinned at him. “This is Michael, my dear,” Miriam said. “He’s been staying with me since you disappeared.”
“How—how did he—”
“—he’s the Antichrist, dear.”
Well, there was no hiding that. Michael quickly looked up at Miriam, surprised that she told [Your name] so quickly.
[Your name] furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, before she gave a small nod. “Right, so, you—you made that fire all on your own?” she asked.
When Michael nodded, [Your name] turned to face Ms. Mead.
“Can I take a shower?” she asked.
Michael blinked a couple of times. The woman wasn’t afraid of him—that struck him as odd. She had just been dropped with the news that would bring the end of times—and yet, she just asked his adoptive mom if she could take a shower.
Who was she?
Miriam nodded. “We’ve got to cover up your cast. Can’t risk it getting wet,” she said, going to find some plastic wrap in the kitchen.
Michael stared the injured woman down for a moment. “You’re not afraid?”
She looked over at him with a frown. “Why would I be? After everything I’ve been through,” she said, sucking in a breath as she slowly got to her feet. “Seeing my parents burn would be the best thing since I found Ms. Mead. Seems like she just keeps collecting lost things, huh?”
[Your name] smiled towards him, and he returned it, albeit shyly.
Despite the wounds on her face, Michael thought she was beautiful. To [Your name], the man was just beautiful.
She knew all the stories about the Antichrist. Her parents used to spew Revelations at dinner like it was just normal gossip.
He would be beautiful, have immense powers (even though she was unaware he was still trying to get his powers under control, as his Antichrist nature had just been awoken not too long ago), and in everything that came from what her parents said, she remembered one and thought about it more often than the others: he would be perfect.
Michael was perfect.
Miriam came back with a yellow box of plastic wrap. She began to open it up.
“Will you be okay showering by yourself? Can you take your clothes off by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, waving the woman off. Miriam just smiled and began to wrap her cast.
“While you do that, I’m going to run to the store and buy some actual clothes for you. You have some here, but not a lot. Don’t worry,” she said, finishing up the multiple layers of plastic wrap. “I still remember your size. And your favorite scent is…?”
When she told her, Miriam smiled.
“Good. I’ll get some things with that as well. Oh, my [Your name], it’s so good to see your face again,” the woman said. “I’ll be back. Michael, stay home. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
When Miriam left, [Your name] went to shower. Michael didn’t know what to do, so he went to his bedroom, reading a book that Miriam had stocked on his bookshelf. Of course, he didn’t realize it was the Satanist Bible until after he started reading it. However, he was completely distracted by it and was only brought out of his intense reading session when he heard loud cursing coming from the bathroom.
Michael frowned a bit and marked his page with a piece of scrap paper from his desk. He quickly got up and went to the bathroom, knocking on the door.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Uh,” [Your name] began, trying her best not to sound like she was in pain. “I—yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice shook as she tried to get up. She had fallen in the shower. The stitches in her side hurt like a bitch, and the pain she had in her leg would stay for a while—her doctor had told her it was a pretty bad sprain, but that it would heal eventually. And with only one hand available to get herself up, she was stuck at the bottom of the tub.
“You don’t sound fine…”
[Your name] clenched her jaw and took in a deep breath. “Could you—I… I need help. I fell,” she said.
Michael immediately went to open the door.
“Wait!”
Michael stopped in his tracks.
“You can’t look at me. Keep your eyes closed. Please.”
[Your name] wasn’t scared at the fact that he would see her naked—she was more scared of the fact that he would see how damaged her body was. She should have been more scared of her naked body—in all reality, she had just met him.
Michael opened the door, making sure that she saw his eyes were closed. He walked into the bathroom and quite literally ran into the toilet.
“I—take like two steps to the left—”
Michael did as he was told.
“Wait, no, I’m sorry, it’s your right—” she stopped herself and squeezed her eyes shut. “Just… Just open your eyes. It’ll be easier.”
“Are you sure?” Michael asked. His voice was soft, like buttercream on a birthday cake.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Michael opened his blue eyes. He locked eyes with [Your name] and his expression softened. It was the look at [Your name] hated more than anything.
The look of pity when people realized why she was always hurt. He had the same expression. Michael walked over to her and turned the steaming water off. He carefully hooked his arms underneath hers and got her to her feet.
“Did you already shower?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Alright,” he looked down at her. He avoided looking at her body. He made sure to keep his eyes on hers. “I’ll—I’ll be right in the other room if you need me, okay?”
When [Your name] nodded, Michael turned the water back on for her and left the bathroom. It didn’t happen again, but Michael sat on the edge of his bed, listening for anything.
He was stiff, and he was barely breathing as he listened for the woman to hurt herself again. When the water shut off, this time by [Your name]’s hand and not his own, he finally took in a much-deserved breath. He closed his eyes, laying back on his bed. He was so worried for the woman that he hadn’t even heard the front door shut. When he heard Ms. Mead’s voice, he shot up from his bed and ran downstairs to help her.
He took each of the bags from the older woman.
“Take these to the guest room, okay? The one with the white bed.”
Michael nodded and rushed off, with five bags of things she would need on one arm and six on the other.
[Your name] came out of the bathroom with the clothes on that Michael had grabbed earlier, her free hand drying her hair the best she could.
Michael sat everything on the bed and came back out of the room, seeing her.
His eyes widened. “I can do that for you—”
“I… I got it,” [Your name] mumbled, her cheeks burning at the thought that he would look at her like he did before. She looked over at him, and she nearly stopped drying her hair. She couldn’t describe his expression—but it wasn’t like it was before.
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Your room. It’s this one,” he pointed to the door behind him.
“Thank you,” she said, walking towards it.
Michael grabbed her by her elbow, looking right at her. “Let me do your hair.”
Her eyes widened. “What—”
“—let me do your hair. I want to help you.”
Throughout all of her thoughts, one stuck out the most: why was the Antichrist being so kind to her?
Michael didn’t wait for her to answer, leading her back into the bedroom. He began to search through the plastic bags, eventually finding the items Ms. Mead bought for her hair. He forced [Your name] to sit down on the edge of the bed and Michael got behind her. He finished towel drying her hair and then proceeded to use what Ms. Mead had bought, with the instructions that [Your name] was given him. He had never even tried to fix anyone else’s hair before—he had only taken care of his own. It gave him a sense of pride to know that [Your name] hadn’t denied his help, this time.
[]
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.
Eventually, Michael and [Your name] were quite close—much to Miriam’s excitement.
Although she never said anything, she quite liked the idea of them being so close. It made her confident heart soar with happiness at the thought that the two people she cared for most in the world were just as close to each other as they were to her.
Despite their closeness, however, Michael disappeared after being taken to jail.
He hadn’t been able to contact [Your name] until about a week after being gone.
“Hello?” [Your name] spoke into the telephone, confused. She didn’t know the number that had called.
“[Your name],” Michael said. He closed his eyes, melting at the sound of her voice.
“Michael?” [Your name] quickly sat up, alert. “What the hell, Michael? Where are you? Are you okay? Wh—”
“—I’m alright,” he chuckled softly. “Things have kind of… happened. I’m at a school for Warlocks. I’m ‘honing’ my magic. That’s what they said, anyway,” he spoke, leaning against the wall behind him as he talked on the phone. “[Your name], they want me to be the next Supreme.”
“I… would be super excited for you, if I would know what the fuck that is,” she scoffed. “Michael, seriously. What’s going on?”
Michael chuckled at her comment. “I’m safe. I promise you. But this is how I do my job. As the… well, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. But what—”
“—listen, I have to go. I have to get back to class. But I’ll call you. Please know that I’m safe. It was so good to hear your voice, [Your name]. Make sure Ms. Mead knows that I’ll get in contact with both of you soon.”
Michael hung up the phone.
What [Your name] didn’t know was that Michael had already been in contact with Ms. Mead. And the two were conspiring against the Warlocks to make it easier for Michael to reach the title of Supreme, and therefore, bring around the end of the world.
[]
Another week passed without a word from Michael.
[Your name] was more nervous than words could put together. Although the two were just close friends, she quite missed his absence. She was starting to believe she wanted to be much more than friends, but she would never say anything about it.
[Your name] sat at the dining room table, wondering where the hell Ms. Mead was.
She had been gone since early morning.
She heard the front door shut and had come downstairs to see what was going on—Ms. Mead was nowhere in sight, and she hadn’t left any sort of note.
It was nearing noon when the house phone began to ring.
[Your name] sighed, figuring it was Miriam. She got up and walked over to the phone, answering it.
“Hello?”
“[Your name],” Michael’s voice came through the speaker. “They’ve killed her.”
[Your name] paused for a moment. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, sitting back down at the dining room table. “What are you talking about?”
“The witches. They killed her. They killed Ms. Mead.”
Only now did [Your name] hear Michael’s sobs. He must have moved the phone away from his head moments before, preventing her from hearing it.
A feeling of dread pooled into her stomach. The news seemed fake—unreal, to her in the sense that it couldn’t have happened. It didn’t happen. Miriam was fine. She had to be.
Her breathing was uneasy as she quickly stood back up. “Where are you?”
Michael told her his exact location—it wasn’t too hard to find, and she would be able to get there pretty quickly.
[Your name] hung up the phone and grabbed some cash and car keys, before she ran outside. She ran to the car that still sat in the driveway. She should have known. She should have checked. Ms. Mead wouldn’t have just left for a walk. She would have said something.
[Your name] entered the location onto the GPS in the car. She took off driving, tears blurring her vision, but she never once stopped. When there wasn’t a cop or a car nearby, she ran through the red lights. She sped until she got to the location.
She quickly slammed on the breaks, putting the car in park. She turned it off and quickly got out of the car, nearly tripping over herself as she planted her feet on the ground.
Michael quickly looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide when he saw her.
He forced himself off of the ground, rushing in her direction. [Your name] met him halfway, her arms tightly wrapping around his body. She let out a soft sob and Michael hugged her back, burying his face in her hair.
“[Your name],” he said, tears forming in his own eyes.
She shook her head, her fingers digging into the fabric of his black suit.
Michael’s fingers gently tangled in her hair as he pulled back to look down at her. Red rimmed the edge of his eyes.
He had been crying, for some time now. [Your name] looked up at him, trying to keep herself calm.
“Michael,” she bit her lip, holding back a sob as she watched him. “What happened… why did this happen?”
Michael shook his head. He would have spoken, had it not been for the blonde witch who walked up to the two, a black umbrella hovering over her head.
Cordelia’s eyes widened when she realized that Michael was not alone.
Michael quickly pushed [Your name] behind him, glaring in Cordelia’s direction.
He didn’t give her a chance to speak, his hand reaching back and gripping onto [Your name]’s. “I’ll kill you,” Michael seethed, his body shaking slightly out of rage. “I’ll kill you and all your damn witches. You stupid—”
[Your name] squeezed his hand. He stopped talking, clenching his jaw.
Cordelia looked from Michael to [Your name] before she gave a curt nod and left them standing there.
Michael quickly turned to face [Your name]. “Never again. I will never let you leave my sight,” he said. “Ever. I… You’re all I have,” he frowned, cupping her cheeks as he spoke.
[Your name] reached up, placing her hands over the top of his. “You’re all I have, too, Michael,” she said, closing her eyes. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I should have realized something was wrong earlier—”
“—you wouldn’t have known what they were planning to do. I didn’t know, either,” he said, frowning deeply. “But they will pay for this. They all will. Every last one of those damned witches. You have my word.”
“I know I do,” [Your name] said, looking up at the man. “Michael, can we—can we go home?” she asked, looking past him at the charred remains of the only good woman in her life. “I… I think we should pack our things. Leave. It’s not safe here…”
“You’re right,” he frowned. “But [Your name], it’s just going to get worse. You… you have to promise me you’ll be by my side. Always.”
“Always,” she nodded.
“Good,” Michael said, pulling her into another hug. He rested his head on her chin. He would protect her until the end of time. The thought of letting her go now made his insides boil. She would never leave his side—never. The only way she’d leave him is through death, and even then, he would bring her back. No matter what.
I knew she was going to die. i predicted as much in previous post even saying she would miss the big battle and be a stepping stone to the supreme. But even knowing this; it didn’t make her death any less dissapointing. I wanted a big twist in this episode and not something that has been correctly predicted since episode 3. What happened with twist like in MH when we found out Violet was actually dead?? And to a lesser extend.. Cordelia being named the supreme?? But no we were told early on: Michael is evil, Mallory is special, and Zoe (& Queenie!!!) is going to die... It’s so boring.
Another issue I have is the way she was killed. Fucking Mead shot her in the head! Like are you kiddinf?? No showdown with Michael???????? Not Zoe at least scaring Michael with her powers?? This is a witch that was a contender for supreme, a witch that has been learning magic for years now. But somehow she couldn’t use telekinesis and bend that gun or the bullet for that matter. Or even use transmutation and pop herself out of there??/ (Cordelia, Myrtle, and Mallory did) Burn Ms. Mead?? Anything? We’ve been told that during dangerous times witches’ powers increase like they did in Coven and in time of need their powers just manifest. But conveninently they didn’t because the plot demanded her to die. And don’t even get me started on that glass attack.
TO ADD TO THE INJURY: HER FUCKING SOUL WAS DESTROYED WHAT THE HELL. now they are going to do their stupid plan of going back in time and stop Michael LIKE WE KNEW SINCE THAT HOURGLASS PROMO WAS RELEASED.
ALSO CORDELIA FUCKING ABANDONED HER OWN COVEN TO JUST SAVE MALLORY and blames Madison for not telling her Michael could destroy souls AS IF CORDELIA HADN’T GIVEN THE IDEA TO MICHAEL BY HIDING MEAD’S SOUL. She’s the supreme she should have defended her coven, but she ran away. No excuses.
A good idea would have been Zoe and Queenie managing to save a few wicthes and then going into hiding, but the others think they’re dead, but then last episode NOPE THEY’RE ALIVE (twist right there)
ALSO WHERE THE FUCK IS KYLE?? I WAS PATIENT FOR 9 EPISODES BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. Like is he still working there?? Is he dead? Did Ms. Mead kill him?? They broke up?? You can’t just ignore Kyle but mention Fiona every fucking episode.
This is way too long I KNOW BUT HONESTLY I COULD HAVE WRITTEN A BETTER SEASON ALL SHADE
