gladiuscaelestis
and when adam begins to speak, michael considers that he sounds like - him.
there’s an aura of that same ‘woe is me’ - the same self-pity for those whose existence was not easy. and such is the way of things. there are those who fall into the grief of themselves and lose sight of anything or anyone else. who hang on to the grief and pain and indulge themselves in the excuses.
‘i’m hurt, i can’t, i’m scared, bad things happened’.
bad things happen to everyone. even the prime himself. but it takes a manner of fortitude to rise - ABOVE. to fight, instead of surrendering. to forge a new path over rocky ground, to walk through the flames. to recognise… fear… and still make the choice to take the harder road. because it is the RIGHT THING to do.
he wonders when adam will realise he bears such a capacity. when, instead of dwelling in those shadows, consumed by what has passed, he might just realise that there is still… light… …and that there is the potential to overcome. IF – he chooses to do so.
“there is always a choice. even if you can’t see it at the time.”
and therein, a tilt of chin, raising a little - the briefest flicker of something other than that constant, stoic solidity. lightening quick, a twitch of lips - perhaps even the glimmer of something vaguely akin to a smile.
———-blink. and you’d miss it.
“do you think, that after all you have seen. all you have witnessed. all you have…”
been exposed to.
“…experienced. that you would set foot back into mortal realm and not bring with you those things. for in the presence of hellbound damnation, the soul can twist and turn and write in it’s own agony, drinking from the chains and blood and spew forth that taint onto the world. and in the presence of heaven’s grace and light, it can breathe in the prayers of the saints and whisper of righteousness, of good, the pure spirit of the martyrs.”
and therein, a sliver - a shard of something left behind. something which slumbered - almost dormant. almost…
which would wage against such corruption which seeped in through his fingers and slid around the shield of his wings. which curled around the flesh and the soul and tried to dull that pain, even as the cage bit and carved, even as rage and torment was set upon it from the hands of another. which existed still, and could - thrive - not only in those moments of emotion ( for what else were they, not beings of flesh or form, but light and love, of power and spirit, of things indescribable in any human tongue )…
and he raises one hand, slowly, no rapid movement or motion of violence, just a graceful sweep and a ‘snap’ - it’s not necessary ( nothing is real here ) but it aptly demonstrates his point. and the windows of adams ‘room’… shatter. a slow motion fracture and explosion, those fragments of glass floating delicately through the air - suspended diamonds reflecting dull light.
and he pokes at one with the tip of a finger, sending it spinning on it’s impossible trajectory.
“you have the answers already, adam. you just have to remember them. believe in them.”
“are you content to simply accept— —or are you willing to have a little… faith?”
It feels almost like being lectured by a parent, which is ironic, because Adam feels the same during his conversations with Lucifer. Michael's words are more enigmatic than the other's - likely, Lucifer doesn't believe the kid is capable of divining his meaning without harsh repetitive commands and reproaches spiced with physical pain - but at least here, the kid doesn't feel like he's balancing across a chasm on a tightrope, chancing agony and torment with every word, every unconscious reaction. At least here he's given the benefit of the doubt, has the option to choose for himself, without pressure or threats or unreasonable expectations.
...but that is a dangerous line of thought to follow.
Rather than responding to that first comment, Adam bites hard on his lower lip and glances away. He could argue that the alternate option to accepting Lucifer's 'help' was such that no one would choose, but he knows that isn't true. Knows that fear of pain is a weak excuse, and not one the archangel will accept. And right now, even Adam is more than sick of ‘Poor Adam’.
So he holds his silence while that deceptively gentle, melodious voice carries on telling him things he already knows intrinsically, but doesn't let himself think about:
Yes, he had more than one choice, and after everything, what would another small eternity of torture count for? Nothing worse than his current state of stagnantion, confusion, and intermittent terror. Lucifer probably would have gotten bored of it, of him, sooner than later.
Yes, after his long, long immersion in Hell, locked with two celestial beings - one of them corrupted - things were bound to change. Adam was bound to change. The thought that he might have been able to find his mother, return to his old life and carry on being ‘a normal person’ was nothing more than a sweet, deluded dream. If Kate had been resurrected, Adam himself would have been completely lost in a world where his biggest concerns were paying the bills or studying for final exams.
That last, though: the mention of heaven's grace and light, of righteousness, good, and purity, that throws him off. From what he can remember there were none of those in that damned place...
...but is that true? It can’t be. Most of what he recalls from that endless time concerns Lucifer, or the myriad hallucinations that the Cage itself induced, or occasionally Sam Winchester; hardly anything effectual of Michael. Looking at the archangel now, he wonders how he never distrusted that before. This being, Heaven's first and last aegis and armament, cowed to incompetence so easily? Even there in that absolutely aphotic place, it would be impossible. Adam knows that terrible strength and searing brilliance inherently, has contained it within himself, and knows without question that no depth of darkness or desperation could snuff it out.
Face blank but eyes giving away a wary suspicious wonder, he watches until that snap and the subsequent slow motion shattering of the windows. It makes him flinch, but only in startlement, not fright. Tracking the shard after Michael sends it spinning, he considers whether this is some sort of subtle hint: shattering glass has become very familiar to the kid since his return to earth. It happens accidentally, typically when Adam is furious, a sudden spike of rage making things break apart or flame up around him; the obvious conclusion was that the ability was Hell-sent. That doesn't mean it's the correct explanation - after all, what's the line? ‘Come, and fall on me, and hide me from the heavy wrath of God.’ What embodies that wrath more than the Creator’s primary creation, with whom Adam has had more than passing involvement?
Finally prying his lip from beneath a canine, Adam runs his tonue out to wet it and takes a deep breath, somehow managing to keep his gaze steady on Michael, though it's almost harder to do so now than in his original form. "Faith...in what? When I can't even believe my own memories?"
