Summary: Reader is married and is unaware of her husband's true identity, until the end confronts her with the truth about the Antichrist.
Warning: angst, fluff, short time jump
Word Count: 1594
@lovelykhaleesiii / tumblr
★★★★
★★★★
The Antichrist, the Apocalypse was all too much to take in. The idea that someone was created with their sole "purpose" to destroy humanity, was hard to comprehend... And yet here you stood, a fellow survivor, a fellow witch.
This so called Antichrist, had you never met, somehow left you fearful. It was daunting to know that the fate of mankind, rested in the shoulders of the Coven, was a hefty responsibility, even for you.
Yet a part of you raged with anger... This so called Antichrist, had presumably killed your husband, the love of your life.
You say presumably, well because, your husband had been absent from your side before the Apocalypse: away for a 'business' trip. Without knowledge of what was to come, it was too late, when Cordelia had finally sought you out and had confided in you.
It was long since you'd left the Coven, wanting nothing more than to live out your own independent life, that was, until you'd met him.
Since having left the Coven, your powers had degraded: no longer being used with consistency nor challenge, you felt yourself weaken.
And yet, if that was the sacrifice you were willing to take for the sake of love, you had no regrets in doing so.
You'd fallen so insanely in love, you cherished and supported him always and would love him from then on. In return, he told you who he was, his true nature: a warlock. You were thankful for that, the acceptance and openness, and you had loved him for that.
And yet, unfortunately, you were in mourning.
You lost him to the uncontrollable clutches of this so called Antichrist. The one everyone had feared, the one that everyone had come face to face with. Hearing their encounters with him was chilling and all too daunting.
And yet there you stood, swearing to protect the rite of the Coven and to preserve what was left of humanity, all in the name of seeking vengeance, despite your weakened state.
It was the greatest relief having finally returned from beyond the grave. The extremity of no fresh air, the stench of swamp soil and insects that lay beneath was excruciating, yet worth what was to come.
Although, the greatest pleasure remained for last, having walked through the gates of what used to be a warlock school, the same one your husband had attended, the many times he had recalled his memories there.
He loved it here, he appreciated the company and most of all the undying union between them all. It was emotional, walking through a remnant of your husband's past, and yet still your anger was your resilience.
You were determined to seek justice no matter the costs.
Finding your sisters, the sisters of the Coven, was in no stretch difficult. A few summoning spells had done the trick, and all 3 had been found almost instantly, and in no time had they been revived. You looked at each, the only familiar face was Dinah, and yet you were compelled to know that she was unworthy of your trust. The betrayal of her had stung, she was an past companion of yours, and you felt at this point in time, with everything that had happened, you were most infuriated towards those who helped to wreak havoc. You couldn't help but stare, at the woman who helped such an inhumane person kill not only your husband, but the innocent lives who were defenseless against his wrath.
"You think you can defeat me, when I've already won?"
That voice, that damned voice: the devastation in your body showered over you in no time. It stung, it ached like never before in the pit of your stomach.
It was Michael: and the sheer unexpectedness of it caused you to grow sick, revolting at the idea that the love of your life, the man you married and swore to love till death do you part, was the Antichrist himself.
How oblivious could you have been? How blind could you have been, to not realize that it was Michael all along?
He'd kept it so well hidden from you, so discrete about his movements, and the thought of deceit pained you like no other.
You remained still, frozen by the revelation, you couldn't bear turning around to confront reality.
Your eyes immediately swelled with tears, your body remained rigid from fear.
The thought that you'd loved him, the entirety of this time, and the fact that he had left you to perish under his notice, was gut-wrenching beyond any emotional pain you'd ever felt.
The ignition of your anger, revolted through you, as the chattering and arguing surrounding you, simply sounded all too muffled. Your head gradually turned, instantly spotting the familiar figure of your husband.
He was alive, and yet it seemed he had no intention of seeking you out.
His eyes immediately fell onto you, and you could sense how shocked he'd become. Perplexed by your sheer presence, he couldn't fathom the reality, as you both stood there silently unable to speak a word against one another.
"Y/N. Ho-How did you- I thought you were-"
"Dead? Think again, Michael. Your plan to rid me, your own fucking wife, the only family you had left, the only person you knew loved you from the beginning, left to die...How could you?" The rage imminent in your voice, as the rest of the Coven remained in awe of the truth, still attempting to grasp who Michael was to you.
"It-It's not like that, it was never like that. I tried to bring you here, bring you home to me. I had my men searching for you day and night. When I heard they still hadn't found you, it was too late...I-I thought you were dead, everyone convinced me you were gone...I mourned for you."
He began to walk his way down the steps, ever so cautiously, as though not wanting to frighten you away. It pained to hear that Michael had given up so easily and yet a part of you, was ungrateful for the witches finding you first before Michael.
He was your husband, and you should've known better. After Cordelia had confided you with the fate of the Antichrist, you should've searched for Michael, and just as he said...It was already to late.
Whoever was in charge of dismissing the nuclear attacks did so during a time, where you made the haste decision to regroup with your fellow Coven. They were there first, when they found you, seeking you out first, trying to claim as much helping hands as they could get. It was all to coincidental: pure fate that you felt was beyond your mundane control.
Here you stood amongst your Coven, Michael standing before you as the Antichrist, and you completely torn between the two.
You both were in the wrong, both in complete bewilderment of each other.
Should he have told you that he was the Antichrist, perhaps circumstances would have changed, the Apocalypse may not have ever happened.
You fell in love with Michael, the humanity in him, his innocence was compelling enough to convince you to want to remain by his side as time went on.
Should he have told you earlier on, you would have sought to change him, reassured him that this path his so called 'father' had set out was unnecessary, if he simply had told you the truth.
And yet, here you stood, realizing that this was much more than a coincidence that the Coven found you before he ever could, that you both had survived and were now face to face, and yet still madly devoted to one another.
You couldn't deny it... Michael was your husband, and you'd promised to love him since. You simply couldn't rid that foundation of endearment you both had sought in each other now.
"Y/N"
Instantly, he fell to his knees, crumbling before you with fear of rejection.
You knew Michael: you were aware of his past and the ordeal he'd faced having been disowned by everyone he ever truly loved. All he ever wanted in life was forgiveness and more so, redemption.
The familiar, reassuring grip of his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you tightly in, wanting nothing more than to embrace you, his wife. It was overdue and definitely, comforting.
"Please forgive me, my love-"
His sobs beginning to sound, desperation and despair alive in the sheer tone of his broken voice.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, Y/N."
As though out of instinct, tears began to streak down past your cheek. You had never seen Michael in this state, having only ever heard of his past experiences. You couldn't bear to witness how miserable he must have been. Your hand gradually began to pat his silky hair, the other caressing his cheek, trying best to wipe away his tears.
Kneeling down to face him, you felt was a terrible mistake, as now you were completely helpless from resisting the urge to cry.
"Of course, my love. Of course, I forgive you."
Your arms wrapped instantly around his head, embracing him in a heartfelt hug, as he continued sobbing against your chest, his cries muffled, his hot tears soaking against the fabric of your dress.
This was the Michael you'd grown to know, and had inevitably grown to love: surely now the witches, and Cordelia would realized that if Michael was essentially capable of love, redemption was a viable option for him still.
He was no Antichrist in your eyes...He was simply Michael Langdon, the love of your life, your dear husband.