[Michael's usually against cheating, but he'll cut her some slack. A little leeway is a privilege accorded to those he likes. She's getting the work done, and that's what counts. Wanda has probably done this sort of thing with the materials provided by the locals at least once or twice before, anyway. Michael hasn't. He's trying to attempt things with his borrowed hands before resorting to grace and a snap of his fingers.
Adam is not here, but the thought that he'd approve of this approach is a small comfort.
There is an admission in her words, a truth Michael shares but has been unwilling to voice. He had allowed himself to be used. Not to achieve the promised goal—Michael hadn't resented being an instrument of his Father's will, a tool destined for a particular task—but for another purpose entirely. He'd been nothing but a background character in a different, more important story.]
I was prevented from it. [Just as well he pointedly does not say. He's not about to give the Winchesters credit for sending him to Hell. They stopped him from killing Lucifer (the first time) but they certainly hadn't done him a favour.] I didn't want to, either, but I would have. It was God's command and my Father is not an entity who takes disloyalty lightly.
[If Wanda cares for another glimpse of life among the angels, there it is. Human children are often subject to their parents' will, too, but the consequences for disobedience are orders of magnitude apart.
The labels for the potions are already attached to lengths of string that Michael loops and tightens around the neck of each bottle. Once the label is on, he sets each inside a straw-filled crate. Someone else will handle delivery. Outside of Solvunn Michael is all but pinioned, unable to fly or carry anything with him. He wouldn't get it done any faster than the locals will.]
There would have been no Paradise. It was a lie. What was it you and your brother wanted?
[He could make a few guesses, to be sure: the return of their home, an end to the war she'd spoken of. If time alongside his vessel had taught him anything, though, it's that humans are absolutely brimming with desires.]
[wanda hears what's between the lines, but does not make a comment of it. it's easy to see things later in a different light—hindsight being 20-20, after all. but it means something to wanda, even if michael may never take note of it, that he says he didn't want to; that despite having thousands of brothers, as an angel, he wouldn't want to kill one of them, just because he could.
she remembers a bit, from her conversations with matt, about how michael was the archangel that defeated satan—lucifer. she remembers statues, a spear (or sword?) in his hand, pressed against the neck of the devil, a foot stomping him down. that michael, with that role.
at his question, she turns to him, drawing her hands back, recognizing that she's arrived at the tail-end of his task. what did she and her brother want?]
Paradise, too, I suppose.
[the same thing he had been promised—something too good to be true, something achieved through more bloodshed and personal sacrifice than anything else.]
—but perhaps like you, that is not attainable anymore. I will never find paradise, for I cannot be with my brother anymore. Neither with the man I loved, nor with my children. [when she turns to look at him, makes eye contact, she is being a little deliberate with her words.] I may as well be stuck in a cage.
The desires I had before here seem so far away.
[a touch of demonic corruption, enrapturing her understanding of space and time, making two years feel longer than what they actually were.]
And even undeserved, especially when our [our] fates were never ours to begin with.
[him, an archangel serving god; she, a child of prophecy. both places in the world neither of them asked for.]
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Adam is not here, but the thought that he'd approve of this approach is a small comfort.
There is an admission in her words, a truth Michael shares but has been unwilling to voice. He had allowed himself to be used. Not to achieve the promised goal—Michael hadn't resented being an instrument of his Father's will, a tool destined for a particular task—but for another purpose entirely. He'd been nothing but a background character in a different, more important story.]
I was prevented from it. [Just as well he pointedly does not say. He's not about to give the Winchesters credit for sending him to Hell. They stopped him from killing Lucifer (the first time) but they certainly hadn't done him a favour.] I didn't want to, either, but I would have. It was God's command and my Father is not an entity who takes disloyalty lightly.
[If Wanda cares for another glimpse of life among the angels, there it is. Human children are often subject to their parents' will, too, but the consequences for disobedience are orders of magnitude apart.
The labels for the potions are already attached to lengths of string that Michael loops and tightens around the neck of each bottle. Once the label is on, he sets each inside a straw-filled crate. Someone else will handle delivery. Outside of Solvunn Michael is all but pinioned, unable to fly or carry anything with him. He wouldn't get it done any faster than the locals will.]
There would have been no Paradise. It was a lie. What was it you and your brother wanted?
[He could make a few guesses, to be sure: the return of their home, an end to the war she'd spoken of. If time alongside his vessel had taught him anything, though, it's that humans are absolutely brimming with desires.]
no subject
she remembers a bit, from her conversations with matt, about how michael was the archangel that defeated satan—lucifer. she remembers statues, a spear (or sword?) in his hand, pressed against the neck of the devil, a foot stomping him down. that michael, with that role.
at his question, she turns to him, drawing her hands back, recognizing that she's arrived at the tail-end of his task. what did she and her brother want?]
Paradise, too, I suppose.
[the same thing he had been promised—something too good to be true, something achieved through more bloodshed and personal sacrifice than anything else.]
—but perhaps like you, that is not attainable anymore. I will never find paradise, for I cannot be with my brother anymore. Neither with the man I loved, nor with my children. [when she turns to look at him, makes eye contact, she is being a little deliberate with her words.] I may as well be stuck in a cage.
The desires I had before here seem so far away.
[a touch of demonic corruption, enrapturing her understanding of space and time, making two years feel longer than what they actually were.]
And even undeserved, especially when our [our] fates were never ours to begin with.
[him, an archangel serving god; she, a child of prophecy. both places in the world neither of them asked for.]