InsaneJournal

The sun was rising. The humans below wouldn't have noticed yet, trapped on the ground and mired in fear, but Satan could see the first tinges of it creeping up over the horizon. Whatever heathen fraud had caused this admittedly fun interlude, its powers were fading. Probably for the best. After another day, the humans might have begun settling down, and there was no fun there.

Satan ran his fingers through Lucifer's hair absently, barely noticing the blood smeared across his skin. He and Lucifer had been busy little devils during the unnatural darkness, especially considering their names had been on half the city's lips. People were so quick to assume an Apocalypse and the work of Hell when the sun never rose and the stars went out. Satan didn't mind, though. He picked a bit of flesh out from underneath his fingernail.

Anyone who knew of his unpleasant, pervasive feelings of guilt would probably find it ironic that Satan would mourn one angel but happily cut a bloody swathe through the city without batting an eye. But that would be because they were too selfish and human to see their own insignificance.

Satan glanced down at Lucifer, who was sprawled across his lap and by all appearances dead to the world. Like this, asleep and with his vast wings and power curled tightly into a human form, it would be easy for someone to mistake him for something less than he was. Satan flicked a hair off of Lucifer's forehead, leaving a small smear of blood behind.

Killing Michael was not the first terrible thing he had done with Lucifer. It would not be the last. And regardless, fighting with Lucifer would not assuage his guilt. He would find some other way to blot the memory of Michael's body from his mind. He was not exactly at peace as the first rays of sunlight hit New York, but he was closer to normal.