Disclaimer: It would appear that Am I My Brother's Keeper?'s plot bunny has a sibling… So I'm borrowing Supernatural and its characters again. Sadly, I don't own them.

"Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories."

—Elie Wiesel

In the Light of My Brother

Part One: Shadows

Lucifer didn't know when it happened, but he knew that Michael had used his grace to lull Lucifer to sleep. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, and everything that had happened before hand was fuzzy… He could only feel himself drifting on the edges of consciousness, resting in Michael's arms.

After so long of nonexistent contact with his brother – let alone the love-filled words that Michael washed him over with (not the bitter retorts and accusations from so long ago) – Lucifer was somewhat overwhelmed… Not that he would ever admit that aloud, but it warmed his ice cold grace.

At some point (he wasn't sure when as Michael had been doing a good job keeping Lucifer under), Lucifer was able to pick up a snippet from a conversation that Michael held with another.

"Do not question me, Raphael," Michael said warningly.

"Then why have you not killed him," the other growled. "You're supposed to bring Paradise. Do as Father ordained."

Lucifer could feel Michael's grace flare at the words, his fiery grace burning against Lucifer's own. It made Lucifer shift uncomfortably in Michael's gentle hold. Michael seemed to snap his attention down to Lucifer, forcing himself to calm down and brushing a soothing wave of grace over Lucifer.

"Sleep, little one…"

Lucifer couldn't find it in himself to resist the three worded order – not with the soft blanket draped over his mind, pulling him back to the irresistible, sweet taste of ignorant, blank bliss. He couldn't find it in himself to break this moment of being with Michael without the hate and anger and pain.

As Lucifer fell back into the recesses of his mind, he heard Michael proclaim something that would have made him smirk if he'd had the conscious thought to do so.

"If Father disagrees with what I'm doing, then He can come and tell me Himself."

o-O-o

"What is that supposed to be?"

He chuckled at His son's scrutinizing frown. "That, Lucifer, is Earth."

"Earth?" Lucifer asked, looking up at Him.

"Yes, I've got a few plans in the making that will all happen on the planet."

Lucifer blinked once, drawing a metaphorical blank. "Planet? That's what You're calling the new sphere things?"

"And this star that these planets are revolving around will one day be called the Sun."

Lucifer huffed and made a face. "That ball of gas doesn't shine anywhere near as bright as me," he muttered.

"And nor should it," He mused. "Otherwise the beings I'm going to create to live on Earth would not survive long."

"They would… die?" Lucifer asked with a frown.

"All fall into Death's hold eventually, Lucifer. Even I will someday— you know this."

Lucifer grumbled his acknowledgment of the fact, fidgeting in his place while He finished 'touching up' this new creation of His. Lucifer watched silently as He terraformed the continental plates, shifting them away from one another and leaving one (really, it was more like two but they were connected by a small strip of land) separated from several others by vast oceans on either side. Technically, there were other landforms that were separated from the main land that Lucifer could see, but they were closer together to each other than this one that stood out to him.

Something was going to happen there – Lucifer wasn't sure what made him think that, but…

"I love all of my creations— I love you and your brothers and sisters… Don't ever forget that."

The Mark on Lucifer's arm burned, and Lucifer strained to ignoring its itching presence. "Of course, Father. Why would I ever doubt such a thing?"

He suddenly looked old. He looked tired and weary – something that Lucifer wasn't used to seeing on Him. "You have no idea," He whispered.

o-O-o

It took him a moment to even realize that he was lying in a field of grass. The blades of the lush, green plant life felt nothing like the rough patches he had found on Earth, and a breeze swept through the area, rustling the grass before letting the meadow still. It was peaceful, quiet, calm.

The moment he opened his eyes to the blue sky above him, he recognized exactly where he was. But… there wasn't any way that he could be here, he thought as he sat up and took in the scene of trees and bushes and multicolored flowers around him. He must have still been dreaming. He couldn't be in the Garden.

Yet he was… and it was almost unnervingly silent. Glancing up, he was relieved to see that the Sun He had placed in His Garden was still shining, as ever, but he was still at a loss as to how and why he was in the Garden.

A time later, he found himself wandering into the grove of trees nearby. Some of the trees were familiar, some weren't. Some were now extinct on Earth. Some hadn't been discovered yet. Some were seen everyday by the humans…

Humanity… oh, right… He had promised Michael that he would give up the Apocalypse, hadn't he? And that he wouldn't harm a human… unless provoked (couldn't not let that be there).

A huff of air escaped Lucifer's lips as he contemplated all that his promise entailed. It had been a stupid thing to do without thinking it over properly – his consent to the terms drawn out with a lapse in judgment… Then again, was the decision so bad?

He was technically on Michael's side now – or rather, there were no sides to the abandoned Apocalypse anymore. So they were back together then? No, that would have implied a simplicity to the brothers' bond, which was so much more complex and complicated than a human would ever understand. But he supposed that in simple terms, 'back together' was an adequate assessment of their rekindled status.

And to think that part of why Lucifer pushed the Apocalypse was to prove a point. Something that he couldn't really do anymore – but compared to the whole of the reasons, it was kind of insignificant, wasn't it? What would he have gotten from it anyway? Bragging rights? Something to back his pride with?

No, no… The 'Apocalypse' was supposed to bring Him back. That whole 'temper tantrum' – as some had called it – was to get His attention, yes… But Lucifer just wanted to talk (though he imagined there'd probably be a bit of yelling involved) – he wanted an answer. And gotten his answer, Lucifer had – just in a very round about way.

So:

Was Lucifer still mad? Yes.

Did he have a way to express that anger? Sort of.

But was there any point in staying mad? … Not really.

So why make a big deal out of it?

He could deny the answer to that question all he wanted to; Lucifer knew that being a brat about this any longer than necessary would just be a pain in the ass for all of them. There just wasn't a reason for him to keep the Apocalypse going – even if Michael hadn't gotten that promise out of him – and that was mainly because Michael wasn't dead set on killing him anymore.

His only issue was with their Father now, and it was rather clear that He wasn't going to come just because Lucifer was throwing a fit. So Lucifer was just going to have to grow up and be patient about this. Lucifer could do that. He'd waited thousands of years in the Cage for the Apocalypse to take place – he could wait another however many years for God to come back…

Then again, even as patient as Lucifer could be, that prospect was a little too time dependent on one being.

That being said, he'd need something to preoccupy him until God did come back. He was more or less stuck in Heaven for the time being as he didn't want to go back to Hell or have to be around humans at the moment (or ever, really). That and Lucifer wasn't blind to notice the metaphorical chain (or leash, if one preferred; one could have also gone with 'link', which was much more neutral in the term usage) linking him to Michael. Lucifer wouldn't be able to physically leave Heaven, not without Michael knowing.

Lucifer suddenly felt very self-conscious about the state of his wings and grace. Though he'd had time to recover, it was an understatement to say that Hell had not been kind. Even then, his grace – tainted as it had become – was far better off than his wings were.

He'd already made sure that no one would be able to see them – his wings – placing them under heavy warding of concealment. All because he had no want for anyone to see the way they were singed and stained with ash and blood; the way feathers had been torn in patches, the pinions broken in some places. The way his wings were not the 'most beautiful in all of Heaven' any longer.

"You're still here," a venomous voice called out from behind him.

Lucifer froze, forcing himself to slowly turn to face the other. "Well, it's not like I had anywhere else to go."

"You don't belong here, traitor," the other sneered at him.

He couldn't help the stab of hurt that the words brought, especially coming from a 'closer' brother. "Obviously since I'm still here – as you put it – I'm allowed that, Raphael," Lucifer retorted, using the sharp statement as a means to cover up the tearing at his grace.

"Only because somehow you've deluded Michael into thinking that you could ever come home," the third oldest archangel spat, glaring at Lucifer. "And when he finally sees the lies you've woven over his eyes, I'll be the one to hold you down as he pierces his blade through your heart."

Lucifer refrained from taking in a sharp breath, having steeled himself from flinching at the words. It had been Michael's idea to let Lucifer live, hadn't it? Their Father had given the oldest that choice, and Lucifer had gone along with it. Lucifer told Raphael so.

The dark-skinned archangel merely scoffed and shook his head. "You have to die, Lucifer. With your death, Paradise comes."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Lucifer insisted. Why could they not see? Why were they all so set in that damned way of thinking, of only following orders? Why? "We both know Michael won't kill me, and he won't let you kill me either."

"The Host doesn't know that yet."

Lucifer's eyes snapped down to the blade that slid into Raphael's hand. Lucifer knew he had high chances of surviving a minor skirmish, but he wasn't ready for the fight Raphael had in mind. Lucifer didn't have his blade on him, and his grace was still low and sluggish from Michael's earlier tampering. Raphael wasn't the most prominent fighter, but he had been a healer, which made him all the more deadly.

"Don't make me fight you, Raphael," Lucifer warned solemnly.

"So you would kill me as you killed Gabriel?" Raphael snarled back, continuing even as Lucifer stiffened. "Just one more crime to add to your deeds."

"I didn't mean to—"

"I'm sure you didn't mean to do any of it," Raphael spat, taking a step forward, his blade pointed at Lucifer. And Lucifer, in turn, took a step back, keeping the distance between them.

"RAPHAEL!"

Michael's voice echoed throughout the Garden, causing the other two archangels to freeze where they stood as their oldest brother stormed into the small clearing of trees that they were located in. Lucifer wasn't sure why, but Michael was still using the half-Winchester's body. It kept Michael's true form from showing even here – Lucifer didn't like it. He would have preferred Michael in his true form, like Lucifer currently was (Raphael was using a vessel, too, Lucifer noted offhandedly).

"What did I say, Raphael?! What did I say?" Michael demanded, eyes blazing in a righteous fury that Lucifer was glad wasn't aimed at him for once. Lucifer was also glad that Michael had come. He was a welcome distraction from darker thoughts.

The youngest of the three merely huffed and stalked off, Michael's eyes boring into his back as Raphael left the Garden. Even then, Lucifer didn't relax until Michael brought him into a caring embrace. Warm, loving grace washed over his own.

"Are you alright?" Michael asked him quietly.

"As well as one can be with my status," Lucifer muttered bitterly, looking intently down at the ground.

Michael shifted his grip, pulling Lucifer back to look in his eyes. "It'll get better, little one. I promise."

Lucifer shook his head. "You can't erase everything that's happened, Michael. They all hate me."

"Not all of them," Michael murmured, hugging his brother once more.

o-O-o

"I hope you don't mind."

Sam spun in his chair to face the intruder, gun automatically lifting to aim at the being's chest. "Lucifer?" the Winchester sputtered in shock, his hold on the gun's handle tightening.

"The one and only," the archangel replied with the slightest smirk bringing up a corner of his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam demanded, cocking the hammer back, loading the gun to fire whenever Sam pulled the trigger.

"Oh, you know… getting away from all that," Lucifer answered, gesturing upwards. He then tilted his head to the side slightly. "You might as well put the gun away, seeing as this is just a dream and it wouldn't work on me anyways."

Sam shot a glance down at the gun. He was dreaming..? That would explain how he'd suddenly gotten a gun in his previously empty hands, but it didn't give Lucifer an excuse to be invading his dream. He kept the gun up.

"Why are you here?" he questioned, letting anger tinge his tone.

"Come on, Sam. I already answered that one," Lucifer said with a touch of amusement. He'd sat down on the dream replica of Bobby's couch, only a few feet away from where Sam was sitting at the desk, where Sam had thought he'd been pouring over very important research.

Sam frowned, the gun lowering marginally before retraining on Lucifer's chest. "What happened?"

Shifting to lay sideways on the couch, Lucifer pursed his lips, seeming to mull over the question. "You're going to have to be a bit more—"

"Is the Apocalypse still going or not?" Sam rephrased, cutting the archangel off.

During his time being Lucifer's vessel, Sam had been kept aware of everything going on around Lucifer. He knew what Michael had been implying to Lucifer during their showdown, even if Lucifer hadn't really understood what Michael meant at the time. But Sam had recognized the look in Michael's eyes – that determination, the protectiveness, everything Sam saw in Dean when he was in serious-older-brother mode. As much as he (and Dean and maybe even Lucifer) would hate to admit it, the two pairs of brothers were more alike than they would like.

Lucifer gave Sam a bemused look for the interruption but went on to answer, "No, it's over. Crisis averted, I think you would say."

"So then why aren't you… up there?" Sam finished lamely, finally setting the gun down on the desk in front of him. It wasn't like Sam would be able to force Lucifer to leave (not in a dream), and the archangel was now more or less lounging on the couch, looking as comfortable as could be.

"I'm not exactly on friendly terms with the other angels, Sam," Lucifer told him, the barest hint of condescension in his words. There was also a tired weariness that Sam could hear overlaying a sad note hidden with Lucifer's answer. Something told Sam to wait for Lucifer to continue, and after several silent moments, the archangel did, beginning with a sigh.

"Michael's tried to keep me from hearing the rumors, but I'm not an idiot— I know there's been talk of a civil war, and for once I'm not the sole reason for it…" Lucifer trailed off, frowning.

At first Sam thought Lucifer wouldn't go on, and he was about to say something to fill in the aging silence when Lucifer suddenly stood up and started pacing across the room. The archangel was agitated. And that fact was easy enough for Sam to tell by the way Lucifer moved from wall to wall at a steady pace – back and forth, back and forth, never breaking stride even as he began talking again.

"But I am the reason for this stupid power struggle between Michael and Raphael— And all of it's just because Michael doesn't want to kill me! Over half of the Host is siding with Raphael, and the rest won't even look at me. My so called 'loyalists' don't dare show their faces because of their allegiances to me during the Apocalypse…"

Lucifer finally slowed to a stop by the end of his little tirade. Sam found himself taken aback by how Lucifer's shoulders slumped and how the archangel seemed to curl in on himself. It was almost as if someone had cut the strings holding the archangel up.

"I came here because I didn't know where else to go. This visit has nothing to do with you saying yes to me. I just needed— I need to be around someone who understands… that won't look at me like…"

"Like a monster," Sam finished for him.

At Lucifer's small nod, Sam got up from the chair and beckoned for Lucifer to follow him outside. Now that Sam knew he was dreaming, it was easy for him to manipulate the dreamscape, and 'outside' became a park that Dean had taken Sam to when they were still young children. Sam tried to keep all of the small details the way he remembered them, keeping the park different from all of the others they'd seen over the years.

The giant oak tree in the middle of the park was the most obvious of these details, the large branches spanning over a great portion of the playground area and some of the park benches. Foot holds had been worn into the tree over time from all of the kids who had dared climb the massive oak, and there was a tire swing set up, hanging from one of the sturdiest branches. A cross section of branches a little further up the tree had created a platform of sorts for those who went that high – it had been a nest, or home base, of sorts for the kids playing whatever games required it, or just a place to relax and get away from everything.

Sam sat down on a park bench, trying not to mind all that much when Lucifer didn't sit down. The park was empty, but it wasn't the people that had made the place special (as ironic as that may have sounded). This was the park that Sam remembered; however, if Sam were to go back to the park nowadays, it would be different – Sam already knew that the tree wasn't there anymore. It had been cut down to make room for a bigger playset 'for the children'.

Now, as much as Sam did hate to admit it, he understood… not all of it, but he knew what the situation Lucifer was in felt like. Heaven wasn't the same – home had changed. That after so long of being away (with all of the mixed emotions of wanting to stay away and yet the longing to return) it was different. And Sam would be a hypocrite to call Lucifer a monster with all that he himself had done.

For the rest of Sam's dream, the two didn't say a word, but when Sam felt that the pull of his consciousness wanting him back in an awake state, he blurted out:

"You can come again… if you want."

Right before Sam woke up, he thought he heard the soft words, "Thank you, Sam."

o-O-o

Though he wasn't in a vessel, Lucifer found himself in site of the abandoned hotel. He'd convinced Michael to let him go down to Earth for the slight occasion, and he'd even made sure that there weren't any living beings susceptible to death while in the presence of an angel's true form within the area before settling down.

Lucifer had cleaned the place up a little bit, not that any human would have been able to tell as none would ever come to the building anymore. Though, to call it a building now would have been inaccurate. Because while making the wards to keep it from the notice of humans, he had also made the location a more suitable site for the final resting place of an archangel.

It was now a garden of sorts – nothing close to the divine beauty of the Garden but as close as he could make it on Earth. Surrounded on all sides by trees, the small glade where the hotel used to be was filled with bushes and flowers of brilliant white and all the shades of gold, the grass a vibrant green, silver vines hanging from the limbs of the trees whose long branches reached over the glade.

In the center of the garden, it was upon a beautifully engraved, golden foundation that Gabriel's vessel lay – unmoving in death. Only the vessel, because the angel was gone. If not for the unnatural stillness, one would have assumed he was asleep. But then, his hands had been positioned to be folded over one another, holding his blade and resting on Gabriel's chest (not unlike the kings of men long ago) – another hint that he wasn't merely sleeping.

And it was beside this raised platform that Lucifer stood. He held a blank mask over his face – there were too many emotions fighting for dominance of his features to give way to even one. Even so, guilt, regret was perhaps the one weighing down on him the most.

Lucifer didn't dare touch Gabriel's vessel. He didn't deserve that right anymore, not after betraying the trust of his closest brother next to Michael. Instead, he kneeled, bowing his head.

"If you'll ever forgive me, I am sorry, brother," he whispered in Enochian, his voice breaking near the end.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Lucifer forced himself to stand and then leave.

o-O-o

"Why do you not accept your brother's apology?"

"Oh, I don't know, Dad— maybe because he killed me."

"And he truly regrets that decision."

An annoyed huff.

"This may not be exactly what you wanted, but Michael and Lucifer are no longer fighting. Don't tell me you aren't glad for that."

"I never said I wasn't," came the snappish reply.

"Then what's keeping you from accepting my offer of returning?"

There was a long moment of silence before he finally answered in a sad voice, "It just isn't the same anymore."

o-O-o

Two months since what was supposed to be the final battle between Michael and Lucifer, three weeks since the first dream visit after the Apocalypse was officially over, ten days since Castiel found that he was once again reconnected with Heaven (apparently the angel had gotten the full range of his angelic powers back and then some) – Sam realized that his visitor had come back (it wasn't hard to figure out, if one went by how the temperature dropped ten degrees), and he wasn't dreaming this time.

"Who was he?" he asked the archangel standing in the doorway. Sam had never actually found out whom the man who had housed Lucifer before Sam said yes was.

"His name was Nick," Lucifer told him with a shrug.

"I thought he was dead," Sam said, frowning. "How did you get permission?"

Another shrug. "Michael pulled a few strings. Nick's soul was in a sort of limbo, so Michael went, got him and put him with his family. I got a free ride."

Sam's curiosity got the better of him. "So it's just you in there? But how are you not burning through him? Cas said there has to be a soul in the vessel to help keep that from happening."

"It's within my power to properly maintain a vessel, Sam," Lucifer answered with a small, amused smile as he walked further into the room. "It just takes a bit more concern and care on my part, not to mention the grace I'm constantly expending to keep this vessel in perfect health."

Sam nodded, accepting the answer. "So how are you?"

And to think that not a month ago, he wouldn't have even considered asking that question to Lucifer, let alone having a rather civil conversation with the archangel; however, after Sam retold his dream to Dean, Cas and Bobby, Castiel had told Sam that acting as something for Lucifer to ground himself to may benefit humanity in the long run – especially if Sam gave Lucifer enough reasons to not hate humans so much.

Suddenly, Sam was very grateful that Bobby was out on a supply run and that Dean had taken Cas out on a hunt that was looking like it would be a simple salt and burn, leaving Sam to manage Bobby's house. But this also meant that Sam was alone with Lucifer. And yet, Sam felt that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing since Lucifer was coming to him as someone who understood the archangel.

"Michael is as stubborn as ever," Lucifer muttered, sitting down backwards in a spare wooden chair that was off to the side. "He still won't acknowledge that there's a civil war imminent in Heaven around me. He doesn't even let me leave the Garden without me telling him first—"

"He's just trying to keep you safe," Sam interrupted. "He doesn't want you to get hurt because of this war, and so he's keeping you out of it."

"I am not going to sit around waiting for Michael to magically solve the problem," Lucifer ground out.

"And I'm not saying that you should," Sam said in a placating manner, "but you have to realize that he's going to war against Raphael for you."

Lucifer gave him a look, narrowing his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam refrained from sighing. "I'm saying that you could compromise with him. Like I said, his priority is you— use that and reason with him. If he and Dean are anything alike, he'll eventually cave."

o-O-o

"No."

"You haven't even heard what I was going to ask," Lucifer huffed.

"I already know what you were going to ask," Michael responded, never pausing in his work nor did he look up from said work. The work being garrison arrangements, death reports and what looked like soul counts.

"At least have the decorum to hear me out first," the younger muttered, letting his irritation be known through his tone.

The writing utensil Michael was using slowed to a halt, and Michael sighed and turned to look at Lucifer. "Well then, brother, what is it you would like to ask me?"

Of all the times to suddenly get cold feet... Lucifer made himself calm down – it wasn't like this was going to get him killed. "I want to help," he proclaimed.

Again Michael sighed, glancing up and away before staring straight ahead. "I can't let you do that, Lucifer."

"Why not?" he demanded. "The only reason this civil war is taking place is because of me—"

Michael stood suddenly, moving close to grab Lucifer by the shoulders and effectively cutting Lucifer off. "Lucifer, your being has nothing to do with this war," Michael told him, shaking him slightly. "This mess was a creation of my own arrogance, and I won't have you caught in the middle of it. That is why—"

"Dammit, Michael!" Lucifer exclaimed, brushing off Michael's hands and cutting Michael off as the older had done to him not a minute before. "Stop being such a stubborn ass, and let me help! You don't want me involved— but I won't let you do this alone."

Michael pursed his lips in thought as he took in Lucifer's words. "I'm not alone," Michael eventually refuted lamely.

A smirk made its way onto Lucifer's face. "Catch me up."

o-O-o

He found the archangel staring out across the ocean, watching the sunrise, when he landed next to him. "Hello, Castiel," the older being greeted, not turning his gaze from the view.

"Lucifer," Castiel responded in turn. "Sam tells me you've come to an arrangement with Michael."

"You make it sound so formal. It's nothing more than Michael acquiring my help against Raphael's faction," Lucifer said, waving the notion off.

Castiel frowned at Lucifer's declaration, Sam having told him differently, but said nothing of it. "Will it be all out war as the rumors suggest?"

"Michael is preparing for that, but he also thinks that he can talk Raphael down. That might work, it might not. It's fifty-fifty at the moment," Lucifer said with a shrug.

Again with the nonchalance, but then Castiel was dealing with an archangel. Theoretically, once Lucifer officially joined Michael's side, Raphael didn't stand a chance. The second youngest archangel hadn't stood much of a chance in the first place, but Raphael had the majority of the Host on his side or under his orders. However, now that the oldest archangel was now leading his armies side-by-side with the next eldest, Castiel knew that many within the Host would flock back to Michael's side.

And this wasn't so much because of ingrained mentalism, but because Michael was a symbol of all that was right in Heaven. Michael had recently received orders from their Father. If it was seen the full extent of what the order entailed – specifically the reunification of the two oldest archangels – the older angels that remembered the times before Lucifer's rebellion that weren't already on Michael's side would fall back into the fold, some of the younger angels eventually following them and so forth—

"Did you know that Heaven has dungeons?" Lucifer brought up out of nowhere. He said this in a hollow voice, yet Castiel could feel the disgust and anger radiating off of the archangel. "Or that there are 're-education' centers?"

When Castiel didn't answer, Lucifer bristled, metaphorical hackles raising. Without warning, the archangel picked up a large rock and chucked off the cliff-side into the raging ocean below them. "How much has changed? How much does Michael still not bother to tell me?!

"The only reason I even found out was Michael mentioning them— that in the event we did go to war, those places should be taken as soon as possible. Why does Heaven even have dungeons or re-education centers? When I was cast out, Gadreel was only in a secluded area from the rest of the Host. There weren't any dungeons to speak of!"

Castiel chose that moment of pause in Lucifer's rant to speak. "Gadreel?"

"I wonder what you were told about him," Lucifer scoffed, disdain clear in this voice. "That it's his fault I was let into Eden to corrupt Adam and Eve? Well, it wasn't. He didn't know what I was doing. He thought I was just paying a visit. The fighting between Michael and I was still just idle gossip for the most part. He didn't have any reason not to trust me."

And that information was far more than Castiel would have ever known had he not left the Host almost a year ago. "Did you ask Michael to restore my connection to Heaven?"

Lucifer frowned, finally looking at Castiel. The frown turned into an expression of surprise. "Got your wings back, did you? But, no, I did not, and I don't think Michael had anything to do with it either."

"God, then?"

"You never really know with that old geezer," Lucifer said with a shrug.

"I doubt He would appreciate being called that."

Lucifer snorted, shoulders shaking before the noise turned into full out laughter. "Oh, Castiel," he got out when he caught his breath. "There are many things you need to learn. So let me tell you, that was nothing compared to some of the things I've called Him.

"I can see why the Winchesters like you so much," Lucifer mused after a moment. "Not only have you brought me out of a foul mood, but you've also probably succeeded in Father's wishes far more than the rest of us have."

Again, Castiel was frowning, and a small smile refused to slip from Lucifer face. "Life changing fact number three: lo and behold, upon the creation of humans, Father gathered us in His throne room and told us to bow before humanity and love them more than Him. The whole of our mission was to protect what He created… So, A+ on a job well done, Castiel."

"Sam and Dean have told me their ideas on what Father told Michael," Castiel finally said, moving to sit beside Lucifer, legs hanging over the edge of the cliff-face. "And I believe their suspicions were correct."

"Yet another thing Michael has refused to tell me," Lucifer grumbled. "Well? Are you going to spill the little secret?"

Castiel shook his head. It was something Lucifer had to find out himself.

"Great," Lucifer mutter. Then he perked up, as if he'd just gotten the most brilliant idea. "How'd you feel about breaking into Heaven?" he asked with an unnerving smile, not to mention the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I-"

"Come on, you can tell me how much trouble I'll be in on the way," Lucifer told him, bringing the angel up to his feet with him. And with one flap of Lucifer's magnificent wings, they were away.

o-O-o

Michael didn't say a word about Gadreel's presence. But he did point to a free room that they could use. Lucifer had gotten an earful about doing things without telling Michael first (especially since it had involved breaking into an area of Heaven). However, Michael hadn't reprimanded Lucifer about anything else, and Michael had even greeted Castiel when the angel came in helping Lucifer carry Gadreel to Michael's office.

Lucifer knew that Michael would eventually be visiting Gadreel when the angel finally woke. But that would have to be after Michael dealt with Raphael. A day that was coming all too soon.

o-O-o

Sam loosened his grip on his laptop as he registered just whom it was that had flown into the motel room. Maybe it was irrational and outright insane that Sam was finding Lucifer's presence normal, familiar, but that was what it was coming to out of all the archangel's visits.

"So is this becoming a regular thing?" Sam found himself asking. He spoke it halfheartedly, meant as a joke, but somehow he was also anxious to know the answer.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Not so much after this, I suspect."

Sam frowned, closing his laptop and setting it down on the motel room's cheap table. "Has Raphael made his move?"

"No," Lucifer answered, shaking his head. "But it'll be any day now… I may have bumped that date up sooner than Michael would like, but it doesn't change anything."

"What did you do?" Sam asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Why did he feel like he was scolding a child? Or better yet – why did it feel natural? Almost like he was berating himself for something that could have been seen as trivial to anyone else but not to him?

"It wasn't anything Earth-endangering," the archangel said somewhat defensively. "I was just correcting a mistake made a long time ago."

Sam waited for the elaboration of Lucifer's answer. It was getting easier – still a little awkward at times, but nevertheless, easier – to talk to the archangel. Especially now that Lucifer wasn't aiming to get Sam to say 'yes' or end the world as humanity knew it. The hardest part about talking to him (that Sam thought anyway) was how hardheaded Lucifer could get – which Sam couldn't help but find somewhat ironic because of Lucifer's tendency to complain about Michael being stubborn as hell.

But Lucifer didn't seem to want to elaborate on this one and, instead, changed the subject to the case Sam and Dean were working on.

"We're pretty sure it's a demon," Sam told him. "But even for them, this one's weird. From what we can tell, it's checking in deals early."

"Who's taken over Hell?" Lucifer asked with a thoughtful frown.

"Crowley, but we kind of already talked to him. He said it wasn't any of his people— he's against breaking deals or something." Sam had opened his laptop. He might as well try to get through the last two articles before he stopped for the night – Dean wouldn't be able to complain that Sam had gotten distracted if Sam had some useful information when Dean did happen to get back to the motel room.

Lucifer blinked, pursing his lips. "Wait— Crowley… as in the one that gave you and your brother the Colt to shoot me in the face with? That Crowley?"

Sam looked up from the screen. That was what Lucifer remembered Crowley for? "Yeah."

"That little pest is sitting on the throne?"

It was like Lucifer was trying to wrap his head around the idea of Crowley being 'King of Hell', as the demon was calling himself. Sam and Dean were pretty sure that the only reason Crowley had even claimed the throne was because the demon thought Lucifer wasn't going to be an issue much longer – or at least, wouldn't care what happened to Hell anyway…

"Good."

Sam's focus snapped back to Lucifer. "What?"

"Crowley can manage Hell just fine," Lucifer stated impassively, heading back towards the door. "Be right back— I've got a demon to smite."

Sam was only able to stare at the door in shock until not five minutes later when Lucifer reappeared with a rustle of what Sam assumed to be the feathers of the archangel's wings. And Lucifer was now lounging on Sam's bed.

"So I can't really say if stunt demon number three was working for Crowley – or had anything to do with him for that matter – but the little trouble maker won't be bothering you anymore," Lucifer announced. "Back to more important matters—"

"Did you seriously just go and smite a demon so we could talk?" Sam sputtered.

"I've done worse for less, Sam."

Again, Sam just stared. Then it hit him that though he may have been on better terms than most with Lucifer, this was still the Devil he was talking to. However, this Lucifer was more… docile? than the Lucifer that was the bringer of the Apocalypse. Sam had the smallest amount of hope that maybe he could get Lucifer to see that he didn't have to hate humanity.

Sam sighed. "Important matters?" he asked, steering back to what Lucifer had been about to say before Sam interrupted him.

"It's come to the attention of Michael and myself that you and Dean still have the four horsemen's rings. Michael wants them so Raphael doesn't get his hands on them," Lucifer informed him in a flippant voice.

An idea came to Sam. "Couldn't you put Raphael in the Cage?"

"No," came the frigid answer, Lucifer's tone hardening. "For everyone involved's sanity, we're not going there."

Sam had to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from speaking before thinking. He didn't know a thing about what being in the Cage was like. He couldn't imagine what kind of disconnect one would might feel in there, cut off from the rest of the world. So who was he to judge who was (or who wasn't) put such a place?

It was kind of obvious that Lucifer had some issues about the Cage. Sam made sure to note that he probably shouldn't bring the subject up again unless he really needed to. He also took note that he should probably tell Dean and Cas not to talk about it around the archangel either.

"Okay… Um," Sam started, trying to think of something to get away from the danger topic. "Then what's Michael's plan right now?"

Lucifer huffed, shifting on the bed and grabbing one of the pillows. "Michael is still insistent on trying to talk to our younger, bigoted brother."

"And your other younger brother… What would Gabriel have done?"

Sam didn't miss the way Lucifer stiffened, the way the archangel seemed to shut down. "Are you suggesting that I run away? Stay on Earth with you humans? Long term?"

"You wouldn't have to be around humans all the time— There are plenty of places we haven't touched yet, and not all of us are as bad as you make us out to be," Sam told him. "And if you really don't want to be around normal people, you could just stick around me and Dean for the most part. When we're long dead, I'm sure you'll have figured something out by then."

But Lucifer was already shaking his head. "I can't just leave—"

"You're not getting much of a choice, though. A civil war is going to destroy Heaven: Michael knows it, and Raphael knows it— Hell, Raphael is probably counting on it. Raphael's not going to listen to Michael," Sam reasoned. "The only way this is going to end is with one of your deaths— you know that."

A/N: Okay, people, you asked for this (I'm looking at you, avanaka and Deja Vu 22). So I was making an outline for where I wanted this to go (because I'm that kind of writer – I like to plan things out a bit so I don't go and dig myself into a hole – I already learned that lesson), and I realized that this was actually going to be like twice as long as Am I My Brother's Keeper?... And what do I do? I just split it in half because I don't like making things really long. (And it gives me an excuse to put this part out first for a bit before releasing the second part.)

I'm just curious, but I was wondering the other day if you guys/girls realized that what I meant by 'if it gets enough response', to me actually means like maybe one or two reviews or a few favorites/follows. I didn't ask you guys/girls to stop and take the time to write out a review- even if it's as simple and sweet as "I loved it" or if it's complex and critical and points out a few mistakes. And I'm not saying I don't like that (some of those reviews literally brighten my day), I'm saying that I appreciate that you took the time to read my stories and then tell me what you thought about it. -And you know what, I'm gonna copy-paste this onto my profile; just 'cause-

Last Edited: [February 13, 2018]

Deja Vu 22: Your reviews are some of my favorites. I hope you were able to enjoy all of In the Light of My Brother like Am I My Brother's Keeper? and Light of Dawn. And I hope that whenever you read this maybe you'll go to Be My Guest and tell me what you think of it (shameless self promotion right there). And those two lines were probably my favorite ones to write in this chapter. XD

avanaka: I think I mentioned it in the author's note of the next chapter, but I'm seriously not judging if you did see a type of romance between certain characters. Personally, I think the concept of love is different to angels than it is to humans – especially the love between angels, which I guess would make their relationships deeper, stronger, more painful when they break. I wouldn't really know how to explain it very well. And hey, it's okay if English is your second or third or fourth language. It's my only language I still don't understand it sometimes.

Ki guy: Indeed

DaisukethePenguin: First of all, my little sister loves penguins, so when I showed her your reviews, she king of flipped out – all excited and stuff. Just thought I'd let you know. Anyways, your enthusiasm is appreciated.

inkpen112: You're amazing, too!

shadowdancer33996: In a fic kinda concerning all of the archangels, I couldn't leave Gabriel out, so I had him handing out with Chuck. And I like happy ending fics, they make me feel better about life in general, but seriously, this is how I would have liked it to happen if only in an alternate universe.

ladygreytowers: And I love your review! so you're welcome, and thank you back ;-)

Avenage99: Thank you! XD And I am slowly working on responses to all of your reviews. It's just taking a little while to come up with adequate responses to your compliments.