"You remember going back and reevaluating everything in front of the Fates?" Luke asked.
Michael was silent for a moment. When he died, the Fates showed him his roll of film, his life from when he was born to when he had died. His roll was considerably smaller than most, died young, hence his young appearance as a demon.
They said it was tragic; it made Michael angry. His life wasn't tragic - it was his. He made it his own and was the best he could do. He didn't regret that. Some choices were better than others, but he couldn't go on feeling shameful for how he felt.
"Yeah, but of course I didn't repent. If murder can be forgiven under such beliefs then why should I bother with it. Seems like loose morals to me anyway."
Suddenly, all three angels burst into laughter. The demon's eyes widened at the response to his words. What was so funny?
"Angel, that is exactly why you're a perfect candidate."
Candidate? The word left a weird feeling in the demon's stomach. Then, it clicked; they were trying to turn him into an angel. It all made sense now - the change in his emotions, the angels' persistance - but that only sparked more questions.
Michael felt like the truth only left him more confused. And as it turned out, part of the truth was something he already knew. All that repent bullshit got you into heaven, and all the guilt he had become numb to had been flooding into him ever since he met these angels. That warm light inside of him that drove away the darkness harboring there, weakening him, and- why couldn't he be angry with them?
Really, they had brought about the change in him, and Michael was not ready to face his roll of film again. Not when he was unsure about how he felt. Were these angels really trying to turn him?
Michael pushed at Calum, flapping his wings desperately to try to break away from the angels when they wouldn't budge. He felt too hot all of a sudden, sick from the intensity of the light. "Stop it, let me go."
"Angel, baby," Ashton tried, but Michael only tried to bite at the angel's hand when it came near his head.
"It's too hot," The demon whined. The angels immediately backed up but stayed close enough in case Michael tried to escape. The demon's chest rose and fell quickly before slowing down as cool air flowed over his pale skin. "I don't get why I can't just be a demon. A poor excuse of a demon is better than a poor excuse of an angel. I can't change. I'll still do what I always do if put in the same circumstances."
Michael watched the angels' faces, searching for any reaction to what he said. Anything to suggest they weren't really here to convert him into something he's not.
"That's okay," Calum had remained sitting on Michael's thighs but now he rested on top of Michael again, face buried into the demon's neck. Soft lips kissed the pale skin with each word. "We'll still be here, demon or angel. But you're wrong; anybody can change. You're just too stubborn."
Michael didn't know what to say. What could possibly be said in response to that? He felt weird, knowing their intentions and hearing those words from Calum. Instead of voicing his thoughts, the demon wound his arms around Calum, the other two angels joining the hug not long after. Michael sighed at the warm tingles flowing through him.
"How do you know if it's even possible?" Michael murmured, briefly wondering what it would be like in heaven. Would he still have a duty to fulfill? Would God really allow him into that sacred place which burns even inside of his head at the thought of it?
