Priestly

Chapter 2

AN// this chapter has ritualistic self harm in it so please for goodness sake be careful don't read anything you shouldn't okay love you

If Michael hadn't had his head on his desk in exhaustion, not making a sound, he probably wouldn't have heard it. In fact, the sound was so quiet, Michael wondered if he actually could hear something. Lifting his head up slowly from his desk, he strained his ears. His blood seemed to slow to a halt as he tried to pinpoint what exactly it was that he could hear. When the priest seemed to recognize the sound, he slowly swiveled his chair from the desk and stood up, careful not to make too much noise himself. He didn't want to miss any of it.

Mumbling.

Is someone still here? He wondered, as he quietly stepped out of His office and into the chapel. There didn't seem to be anyone there. All the pews were empty... No one in the stands, or at the organ. He strained his ears again, walking over to the other side of the big room.

"Hello?" He called softly into the small rooms on the side. No one answered.

He was about to shrug it off when he realized that he still hadn't checked the room at the end of the hall. He backed out of the room he was in and waked down the short hall to the door at the end.

He leaned his ear against the door. The mumbling was definitely coming from inside. It sounded like a mans voice, he didn't understand the language... It sounded like the speaker was in pain.

Worried for another humans well being, Michael quickly turned the knob on the door and peeked in.

He wasn't fully aware of what was happening when he rushed into the room. All he had to see was a man- whose back was turned towards him- shaking, and blood running down his raised arms, dripping from his elbows.

Michael screamed "SIT DOWN" at the man as he ran past him, grabbing one of the med kits he kept in each room.

He turned back around and, seeing that the man had not followed his order, ran up and gently- well as gently as he could in his terror- grabbed the mans shoulders and forced him to sit on a nearby table. With lightning quick speed, Michael opened up the box and pulled out a thick roll of bandages, and began wrapping them tightly around the mans arms.
(I apologize I really don't know anything about medical emergencies and all that just bare with me please)

"Put pressure on your other arm, now please," Michael commanded. The figure didn't say anything, but pressed his right arm against the side of his leg.

Michael quickly finished wrapping up the mans left arm, then proceeded to wrap the second. His main priority at the moment was to stop the bleeding. He could clean them up later. When he finished, both arms were wrapped up from the middle of his forearms, all the way up to his biceps, just barely at the brink of his shoulders. Once he finished on his arms, he started wrapping even more bandages around the mans chest, which had strange markings carved into it. He made sure to wrap tight enough to stop the bleeding, but loose enough for the man to breathe.

Only when the man was fully taken care of (for the most part) did Michael take a breath. Good thing he did, because when he finally looked up to see who it was, he almost passed out.

Tired, Icy blue eyes looked up pitifully at him from deep set eyebrows, a bitter smirk interrupting the trails of tear-stains on his face.

"How's it going Big Brother?" He breathed out, and Michael's mouth stayed gaped open.

"Lucifer what in God's name were you doing?" Michael finally asked, astonishment (and more importantly, fear) clear in his voice. He moved his hands from the mans waist and set them on his bare shoulders, intensifying his gaze on the man. Lucifer turned his face away from Michaels intense, green eyed stare.

"Praying," he mumbled.

"Lucifer, I'm not the one to hate on anybody's rituals," Michael forced out, "but that is not how you pray! What were you thinking?" The fear in his voice slowly began to fade out, replaced with worry (and more importantly sadness).

"I was asking for guidance. Forgiveness, you could say," the other replied, still not looking the other in the eye.

"But why would praying to our God include harming yourself in such a manner?"

Lucifer took a deep breath, his exhale shaky.
"I read a book about repenting of your sins, and it said the best way to atone for... Certain, ones, was done by blood," he struggled out. He was tired, and felt (quite literally) drained. Michael sighed. He set one of his hands gently on the others neck, before sliding it back down to his shoulder.

"No sin is bad enough to harm yourself for," he told him softly.

He stepped away from Lucifer and grabbed the black, button up shirt they all wore, and handed it back to him.

"C'mon, I've got a much more official first aid kit at my place, it'll be easier to clean up your cuts." Lucifer blinked and stared up at Michael, confusion (and more importantly hope) shifting in the backs of his blue eyes.

"W-w-what?"

Michael put his hands in his back pockets and shrugged, rocking back and forth a bit on his feet.

"Yah. I mean, a hospital is really expensive, and I don't think you really want to go there with ritualistic symbols self-engraved into your stomach," he smiled awkwardly.
"Plus," he added quickly, "I'm a part time Nurse in training, so I'm pretty qualified with cuts."

"O-oh... Lucifer mumbled. With a groan, he slid off the table, wincing at the sides of his arms grazing on his torso, and the creases in his arms as he finished buttoning up his shirt.
"Um... O-okay. Thanks..." He muttered out, uncertain about whether it was really okay for him to follow the other. Michael smiled at him as he turned to walk out of the building.

"Really. It's no problem," he said kindly.

Lucifer followed close behind him. The two walked through the church, Michael holding doors open for the other. They walked out of the parking lot, the street lamps the only source of light. Michael led the other to the back of the lot, and stopped next to a-

Okay. Let's get something straight. I know absolutely nothing about cars. So seriously just imagine a nice looking, normal sized black four door four seater car. Like I don't know seriously it's black and not tall aight? Sorry. Carry on.

Michael unlocked the car and pulled open the passenger side door. Lucifer mumbled a very embarrassed 'thank you' as he struggled into the seat. He did manage however to get his seatbelt on by himself before Michael shut his door and got in the drivers seat. He pushed the key in and started the car up. He put it in reverse, then drove out and away.

There wasn't much conversation. Michael was concentrated on the road (unlike some certain green eyed idiot who can't look at the road for more than five seconds goodness child you're gonna get hurt), and Lucifer just concentrated on the sound of the car softly humming down the street. The hour was late, and the streets deserted. They seemed alone in a sea of black, on a single line of light and dashing white lines. Either both didn't feel the need to talk, or were too tired to do so. Either way, it was a long quiet drive down a practically deserted road, with someone who they didn't know, but felt as if they could.

Wow I really do not know how to end a chapter I apologize. Also, sorry for the sorta long chapter!