Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

It Hurts

Time of Death: 16:37, Sunday 26th September.

Michael read the words over and over again, yet they refused to sink in.  He refused to believe she was gone.  She couldn't just be gone. 

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

~~

Michael was sat in the same place he'd been almost all week: at his mother's bedside.  Lucifer had fallen asleep in the chair next to him and was now snoring softly.

"You remember Lucifer, don't you mum?"  Michael squeezed her hand lightly and attempted to smile.  "He's been here the whole time.  He's been here with me."

Michael looked over at the door, having thought he'd heard someone enter.  No one was there. 

"Dad's at work again.  He was speaking to you before he left though, I saw him.  He really needs you mum.  I really need you."

He looked at her, not knowing what to expect. Some movement maybe?  A little more colour in her face? 

Nothing. 

She barely even looked alive.  She barely even looked like his mother anymore. 

~~

Michael opened his eyes. 

He felt too numb to cry.  Too empty.  Maybe it just hadn't hit him yet.  Or maybe it had, and there was just something wrong with him. 

No. 

He was in shock.  He knew it.  That's why they'd made him sit over here.  On the uncomfortable metal chairs in the corridor.  They hadn't even given him a blanket.  They'd just told him to stay put, then they'd gone back into the room: all talking at each other and writing on their clipboards. 

Michael fiddled with his hands in his lap. 

He wanted Lucifer.  He needed him. 

He screwed his eyes shut and wished for him.

~~

Michael poked Lucifer awake with his foot; the Novak ceased his snoring, that had been growing in volume, and opened his eyes slowly, rubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

"Watsa time?"  He slurred.

Michael checked the clock.  "Just gone three."

"M'kay."  Lucifer sat up and stretched, yawning widely like a tried cat. "I'm gonna pop home for a bit, kay?"

Michael nodded, not looking away from his mother's face.  Any minute now she'd open her eyes and see him. She'd see him and smile.  He missed her smile.

Lucifer kissed Michael's cheek before quietly leaving the room.

"I might marry him someday," Michael whispered, when he was sure Lucifer had gone, "What d'you think, mum?"

The only response was the beeping and whirring of the machines: the only actual proof he had that his mother was still breathing — that she still had a pulse.

Michael settled back in his chair and stared at the opposite wall.  He'd already caught up on the classwork.  He'd done all the homework too.

He tried to think of another way to occupy his time.  He'd practically run out of things to say to his mother, nothing new was happening so there was nothing to tell her about.  He'd already told her everything about school, everything about his plans for the future.  Most of it she knew already, but Michael had told her again anyway; just in case she'd forgotten.  Just in case she wanted to hear his voice.