They Don't Know The Truth, But They'll Learn!

Hope held tightly onto her cup of coffee, the heat from it grounding her in the reality of the situation. Omega, no, Michael, stood beside her, both conveying the exhausted from the previous night in their...own ways.

His wings were hidden for now, but their presence felt like a lingering pulse of energy in the space around them. His revelation had changed everything, not just for him, but for her too. The memories he had recovered, the name that now belonged to him, the sense of destiny that hung over them both, it was as if the world they knew had cracked open, revealing something far larger and more terrifying than they could have ever imagined.

She glanced up at him with a warm smile as they stood outside the Starbucks in Mystic Falls, their hands occasionally brushing together as they sipped their drinks, hers a double shot cappuccino and his a mocha.

His expression was distant, heavily thoughtful and reflective as he processed the vast revelation of who he truly was to the best of his ability. For countless eons, he walked both heaven and earth, the 'left hand of god', his representation and instrument, and now that it had been uncovered, the weight of it threatened to crush him. But Hope wouldn't let that happen. Not to him. Not to the man she could at last say for certainty she loved.

"I've called them," Hope said softly, breaking the silence between them. "Freya and Alaric are on their way. They'll want to hear this."

Michael nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his brow furrowed with the weight of his newfound identity. "And the others?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge of tension.

"They're coming too," Hope admitted. "I thought it was important. They need to know."

She didn't have to explain further. Alaric, Freya, Lizzie, Josie, MG, and Kaleb, each of them had been part of her life in one way or another, and they all held emotional stakes in this. They deserved to know the truth, as wild and unbelievable as it was. If Michael was real, if the archangel truly walked among them, then the implications were staggering. It wasn't just his identity that was at stake. The existence of beings beyond comprehension, divine and demonic, suddenly felt all too real.

They didn't have to wait long. Within minutes, the sound of tires screeching signaled Alaric's arrival. His SUV pulled up with a sense of urgency that betrayed just how fast he had driven to get there, no doubt having broken countless road laws in the process. Freya's car followed close behind, and as both vehicles parked haphazardly on the curb, doors flew open. Alaric was the first to step out, his eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity, followed closely by Lizzie and Josie, who shared bewildered glances with one another. MG and Kaleb emerged next, both of them unusually quiet, their expressions tense.

Freya arrived with an almost palpable intensity. She moved toward Hope with a fierce protectiveness, her eyes flicking over Michael as if she could sense the change in him, the shift in his very being. Her connection to magic, to the supernatural, had always been profound, and now she was faced with something even her vast knowledge hadn't prepared her for.

"What's going on, Hope?" Freya asked, her voice steady but edged with concern. "What's happened?"

Hope took a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Michael. He nodded, a silent confirmation that he was ready to face this, to share his truth with those who mattered. They both knew it wouldn't be easy. The reality of his identity would shake the foundations of everything the group believed in, but they had no choice but to confront it.

"It's… complicated," Hope began, her voice faltering slightly before she found her resolve. "You all need to know the truth. About Omega. Or, rather… about Michael."

"Michael?" Alaric echoed, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Michael stepped forward then, his presence commanding the attention of everyone present. Even without his wings visible, there was something undeniably...greater about him now, even more ethereal , a regal air, an otherworldly strength that radiated from him. He seemed to metaphorically grow taller, more imposing, as he prepared to reveal the truth.

"I am Michael," he said, his voice carrying a gravity that sent chills through the group. "The archangel. First born of the Lord"

Stunned silence followed his words. Lizzie and Josie exchanged wide-eyed glances, while MG and Kaleb seemed frozen in place, their expressions a mix of disbelief and shock. Alaric's face had gone pale, his mind clearly racing to make sense of the revelation. Freya, for her part, remained still, her eyes narrowing as she processed the information.

"You mean THE Michael?" Freya asked carefully. "The one from the Bible, from… mythology?"

"Yes," Michael confirmed, his gaze steady. "The very same. I have lived these past weeks ignorant of this...until now" 

The group stood in stunned silence for a moment longer, the weight of his words sinking in. Lizzie was the first to break the tension, her voice filled with incredulity.

"Wait, wait, hold on," she said, shaking her head. "You're telling us you're an archangel? Like, the real deal? With wings and everything?"

Michael gave a faint smile, the first glimmer of warmth since his revelation. "Yes. With wings and everything."

Lizzie blinked, still processing. "Well, damn. That's… a lot."

Josie, always the more thoughtful of the two, spoke next. "If you're Michael, then… does that mean everything else is real too? Heaven, Hell… the Devil?"

Her words hung in the air like a dark cloud, and the weight of her question pressed down on everyone present. The implications were terrifying. If Michael, the archangel, existed, then so too did the forces that opposed him. Lucifer, the Devil, the embodiment of evil they were no longer just stories or myths. They were real, and that realization shook them all to the core.

Michael thought back to the look his brothers face as they battled in the scorched wastes of Hell, utter hatred, conflicted grief, the sorrow of separation simply their beliefs as he attempted to hide his face behind his arm, a moment of visible shame conflicting with pride, all things they both were burdened with in spades, each in their own way. He wasn't close to recovering all his complete past, but he knew in his soul, even back then, it tore him apart. 

Hope's gaze shifted to Michael, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited his answer. She had wondered the same thing. If he was Michael, then what did that mean for the world they lived in? What new dangers had they just uncovered?

Michael's remained darkened as he emerged from his thoughts that took him far away for a moment. The gravity of his response was heavy on his shoulders. "Yes," he said quietly. "Lucifer is real. And if I've awoken… then it's only a matter of time before he stirs to act, or perhaps even strike,."

A collective breath was taken, the air around them thick with tension. MG crossed his arms, his usually laid-back demeanor replaced with a seriousness that rarely surfaced. "So, what do we do now?" he asked. "What's the plan?"

"We prepare," Alaric answered, stepping forward with a determination in his eyes. "We've faced the impossible before. We'll face this too."

But before anyone could respond, a shift in the air made Michael turn his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in the distance as if sensing something far away. A small smile crossed his lips, but it wasn't one of joy or amusement—it was the smile of someone recognizing a familiar presence.

Hope watched him carefully, sensing the change in his mood. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Michael's gaze was distant, his thoughts far away. "He knows," he said softly, almost to himself. "Samael… Lucifer, he knows I've awoken."

At that moment, far across the country in a bustling night club in Los Angeles, a tall, almost supernaturally beautiful and striking man leaned casually against the counter, his sharp features illuminated by the dim lights of the room. His eyes slowly glow a deep and dangerous shade of red, flickered with amusement as if he had just heard a joke only he could understand. He raised his glass to his lips, pausing for a moment as though his thoughts had wandered far from the busy atmosphere around him.

A smile curled his lips, his teeth flashing in the low light. "Only two weeks…" he murmured, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "Impressive… brother."

Lucifer, Samael, the Morning Star, chuckled to himself as he took a long sip of his drink, his eyes gleaming with the knowledge that the game had only just begun.

Salvatore School, an hour later.

As Alaric, Hope, and Michael walked into Dorian's office, they found the man sitting behind his desk, surrounded by towers of books. He was flipping through an old, leather-bound tome, his brows furrowed in concentration. As they entered, Dorian looked up, his eyes wide with both disbelief and excitement.

"You're telling me… Michael… like the Michael? Archangel, defender of Heaven, brother of Lucifer?" Dorian asked, blinking in astonishment.

Alaric nodded with a wry smile. "Yeah, and here I thought you had your hands full with the supernatural catalog. We're going probably have to file this under 'divine intervention.'"

Dorian leaned back in his chair, gesturing to the stack of books around him. "This is groundbreaking. There's so much we didn't know about archangels, and now do I not only have one right INFRONT of me, but I've got to reorganize everything in here! How am I supposed to classify Michael's connection to the Mikaelsons? Or the whole Heaven versus Hell dynamic?" He looked at the mountains of literature with an expression torn between glee and panic.

Alaric snorted. "You'll figure it out. At least you've got your priorities straight."

Dorian shot him a look, but the tension in the room eased with the banter.

Hope, meanwhile, was drawn to the glyphs etched into the stone table at the center of the room, glyphs that had once been simple markings but had evolved into intricate pentagonal patterns, humming with an otherworldly energy. She glanced at Michael, who stood next to her with his brow creased in thought.

"Michael," Hope said, gesturing toward the glowing symbols, "Do you have any more insight into these? They've been shifting ever since you arrived."

Michael stepped forward, his hand reaching toward the glyphs with a sense of reverence. As his fingers hovered above them, the symbols seemed to pulse, as though they finally recognized him. The room fell silent, anticipation thick in the air. Then, with a resonating hum, the glyphs began to shift and unravel, transforming before their eyes.

The pentagonal shapes rearranged themselves, unlocking in perfect symmetry, and from the center, something began to rise. A golden glow emanated from within the stone, illuminating the room with radiant light. What emerged made everyone gasp, an elegant weapon, a tri-edge dagger with a gleaming golden blade and a black leather-wrapped handle.

Michael's breath caught as he slowly reached out to take the knife. The moment his hand wrapped around the handle, a surge of recognition shot through him, as though something long lost had been returned. The weapon felt like an extension of his very soul, reconnecting him to a part of himself he hadn't known was missing.

Alaric, standing by the side, raised his eyebrows and quipped, "Well, that's a sight. You just pulled a weapon from a stone, should we start calling you King as well ?"

Michael gave a soft smile, but the weight of the moment was not lost on him. As he turned the knife in his hands, examining its craftsmanship that transcended the very idea of flawless, a flood of memories flashed before his eyes. There was a familiarity to this weapon, a deep connection to his past self, and with it came a profound sense of belonging.

"I feel…" Michael began, his voice soft, almost reverent. "As though yet another part of me has been restored. This weapon… it's like it's always been mine, always been with me."

Hope stepped closer, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. "Do you think it's connected to the sword from your dream? Or the lance you're said to wield in legend?"

Michael paused, considering her words. The sword from his dream, the ethereal, radiant weapon that clashed against the forces of darkness in his memories, seemed to share a connection with this blade. It wasn't the same at first sight, but there was a shared essence, as though both were fragments of his celestial power.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, still tracing the lines of the weapon. "But it feels like this dagger, this blade, is a key to something larger, a part of who I am and what I'm meant to be."

Alaric crossed his arms, eyeing the blade. "And if it's connection to you tells us anything, it's that it might just be able to take on Lucifer himself."

Hope shivered at the thought, but she nodded. "If that's true, then we might have a weapon that can hold its own against whatever evil comes our way while overcoming anything lesser with ease"

Michael's grip tightened on the hilt of the knife as he turned to face them, his gaze steely with determination. "If he comes, I will be ready. No danger shall come to this school or it's inhabitants, on that I can promise you" 

Hope reached out and placed a hand on his arm, grounding him in the present. "We're in this together, remember?"

Michael looked at her, his eyes softening with a smile. "How could I forget."

The dagger seemed to pulse with a quiet energy in his grip, and for the first time since his revelation, Michael felt a sense of purpose. His past, though still incomplete, was beginning to take shape. He wasn't just Omega, an amnesiac angel wandering the Earth, he was Michael, the Archangel of Heaven, and he was regaining the tools and memories he would need to face whatever lay ahead.

Dorian, still wide-eyed, approached carefully. "This changes everything," he whispered, clearly still in awe of the discovery. "I need to… reorganize the archives. Again."

Alaric laughed, clapping Dorian on the back. "You get on that. We'll handle saving the world."

As the group shared a rare moment of levity, Hope's thoughts lingered on the deeper implications of the weapon's appearance. The question of Michael's dream loomed over her, if this knife was only a part of his power, then what of the sword he had seen? And what kind of battles would they have to face to reclaim it?

For now, they had a clue, and more importantly, they had each other. And as long as they were together, Hope knew they could face whatever darkness awaited them.

The next day.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of the Salvatore School's dining hall, casting long shadows across the room as students chatted over breakfast. At the usual table where Hope, Michael, and their friends gathered, an unusual tension hung in the air. Despite the boisterous conversations echoing across other tables, theirs remained eerily quiet.

Michael could feel the weight of it. Since the revelation of his true identity, the group hadn't been the same. Kaleb pushed his food around his plate with disinterest, while Josie and Lizzie exchanged anxious glances, unsure of how to approach the subject. Even MG, who was usually the first to crack a joke, seemed to be deep in thought, his usual smile absent.

Michael sighed inwardly. He couldn't blame them; it wasn't every day you found out that one of your closest friends was a divine being, with ties to a war between good and evil stretching back thousands of years. Still, he couldn't let this newfound knowledge tear them apart. These people, Hope, Alaric, and the others, had become his family, and he wasn't going to let his celestial origins change that.

Breaking the silence, he finally spoke, his voice steady but warm. "My friends, I know the weight of truth and revelation that shadows you now, believe me, It is much for me also. Perhaps even a small part of me wishes it was not so. I want you all to know that no matter what I have discovered about my past, it change not how much I appreciate you all!"

His words broke through the tension like a ray of sunlight after a storm. Kaleb was the first to respond, his usual cocky grin returning, though slightly more subdued. "We know, man. It's just… a lot to process, y'know?"

Lizzie nodded, still staring at her plate. "Yeah, I mean, I can't exactly say I expected any of this when I woke up yesterday."

Josie smiled faintly. "It's just... going to take some time."

Hope, however, remained quiet, her eyes fixed on her coffee as she tried to sort through her own feelings. Michael's reassurance had softened the atmosphere, but for her, things were more complicated. Their newfound relationship, the late-night passion they had shared under the veil of secrecy, weighed heavily on her mind. She had always been strong, independent, so why did this fast and sudden bond with Michael feel so right and yet so overwhelming at the same time?

Later that day, when classes had wrapped up, Hope found herself standing outside Alaric's office, unsure of what she was even going to say. She knocked lightly on the door, hearing his familiar voice invite her in. When she entered, she saw him sitting at his desk, deep in thought, staring at a stack of old texts, no doubt still ruminating on the grand revelation from the night before like everyone else.

"Hope," Alaric greeted her, looking up with a tired but welcoming expression. "What's on your mind?"

She shut the door behind her and moved to take a seat across from him, folding her hands in her lap as she struggled to find the right words. "I... I need your advice."

Alaric leaned back, studying her face. "Of course. What's bothering you?"

Hope hesitated, feeling the weight of the secret she had been keeping from everyone, even Alaric. She wasn't sure how much to reveal, but she couldn't keep it bottled up anymore, not with the storm of emotions that had been building inside her. "It's about Michael," she began, carefully choosing her words. "Everything that's happened, his memories, his… divinity. It's made things complicated."

Alaric raised an eyebrow, sensing the deeper layers to her concern. "Complicated how?"

Hope sighed, lowering her gaze for a moment before she spoke again. "We've gotten... closer. A lot closer. And I don't know what to think, or what to feel. Part of me is scared, because he's not just another supernatural being, he's something... more. And I don't know what that means for us, or for me."

Alaric studied her, piecing together what she was trying to say without her needing to spell it out. He had known Hope for most of her life, watched her grow into the strong woman she had become, and yet, this seemed to be uncharted territory for her, something that rattled her in a way few things ever did.

"Hope," he began gently, "It's completely normal to feel conflicted. No one, human or otherwisem, has likely ever been in your shoes before. And I don't just mean because of what he is. You've always been someone who carried a lot on your shoulders, but this is different. This is personal."

Hope nodded, her heart still heavy. "It's just… he's so much more than I ever imagined. I always thought I was destined for something big, but this? Being with him, knowing what he is, it's like nothing I could have ever prepared for."

Alaric leaned forward, his expression softening as he tried to offer comfort. "Look, maybe he is a gift to you, something sent by a literally god knows who. Maybe you were meant to be together, even if it's hard to see the bigger picture right now. And who knows? There's also a chance that his lost memories might hold the answer to all of this. It's possible that, somewhere in his past, he chose you, and if that doesn't at least prove how special you are and how much you deserve...then I'm stumped" He softly smiled. 

Hope looked at Alaric with a mix of surprise and contemplation. "You think that's possible?"

Alaric shrugged slightly. "It's just a theory. But when it comes to matters of the divine, nothing is impossible. What I do know is that he needs you, Hope. He's facing something huge, not just his memories, but everything about who he is, who he was. You're the one person who can help him through that, help him find himself, whoever that may end up being in the end."

Hope smiled faintly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from her shoulders. "You're right. I need to talk to him, really talk to him, about what's going on inside him."

Alaric smiled back. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Hope. You'll figure it out."

As she left his office, Hope felt a renewed sense of purpose. She had to help Michael, just as much as he had helped her in ways he didn't even realize. This wasn't just about their relationship, it was about understanding who he truly was, and how she fit into that.

That night, as the stars glittered above Mystic Falls, Hope found Michael sitting in the courtyard, his gaze turned toward the sky. She approached quietly, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to broach the subject that had been weighing on her all day.

"Michael," she said softly, taking a seat beside him.

He looked at her, his expression calm but curious. "Hope. Is something on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Hope reached out and took his hand in hers. "We need to talk. About everything, about us, and about you. I want to help you with whatever struggles you're facing, whatever questions you still have. I need you to know that, no matter what happens, I'm here for you."

Michael's eyes softened, and he nodded. "I know. And I promise, whatever happens next, we'll face it together."

As they sat there, under the stars, their bond only grew stronger, as did their determination to face whatever trials lay ahead, side by side.

The next day.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of Hope's room, casting gentle rays across the bed where Hope lay, her head resting on Michael's chest. His presence, so powerful yet calming, filled the room with a serene atmosphere. She had never felt so safe, so connected to someone. For the first time, she had invited him to share her bed, an intimate gesture that solidified the bond they had been forming over the last few weeks. His warmth radiated from him, not just physically but in the way his very aura seemed to wrap around her like a protective shield.

A thought crossed Hope's mind as she stirred slightly, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of Michael's chest. She had seen his wings only once, the day before, when they had emerged in a stunning display of divine light and purity. She remembered how the room had been bathed in an ethereal glow, how his wings seemed to exude a warmth that was both spiritual and comforting. It had been a moment of awe, but now, she found herself desiring to see them again, to feel that connection once more. Yet, she hesitated, what if asking him to reveal them was too much, too intimate, or somehow inappropriate? Was it the celestial equivalent of asking someone to expose themselves?

With a soft voice, Hope lifted her head slightly, gazing up at him. "I know this might sound strange, but… would you be willing to show me your wings again?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity and admiration. "Only if you're comfortable, of course. It's your decision."

Michael smiled softly at her request, understanding the weight behind it but also feeling no hesitation in sharing that part of himself. "Of course," he said with a reassuring tone. "I would be honored to show you again."

He sat up slightly on the side of the bed, closing his eyes for a moment to center himself. Then, with a gentle shift in the air around him, his wings began to materialize. A radiant glow filled the room once more, soft but overwhelming in its beauty. His wings unfolded, their pristine white feathers shimmering in the light, casting a gentle warmth that made Hope feel as if she were being bathed in pure love and light. She couldn't help but stare in awe, her breath catching in her throat. This was him—the true him. The essence of his being.

Hope's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. It wasn't sadness that made her cry but the sheer beauty of the moment. It was overwhelming, not because of his power, but because of the love and warmth that radiated from him, the divine essence of who he truly was. This was more than just a celestial display—it was Michael in his purest form. The realization hit her then: of course someone like him could be with someone like her. How could she ever doubt that before?

Michael, noticing her tears, immediately felt a pang of concern. His wings disappeared in an instant, the glow fading as he turned to her with a look of worry. "Hope… did I upset you?" he asked, his voice soft but tinged with concern.

Hope shook her head, quickly wiping away her tears as she moved to sit in his lap, facing him. She gently cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking onto his. "No, Michael… you didn't upset me. You could never upset me. It's just… you're beautiful. This is beautiful. It's hard to describe, but seeing you like that, seeing you as your true self, it just filled me with so much... love. And it made me realize that everything we have is real."

Michael's expression softened, and he rested his forehead against hers. "You're the first person I've ever felt this way about, Hope. You see me for who I am, and that means more to me than you could ever know."

As the hours passed, and the morning gave way to breakfast in the school's dining hall, Michael found himself quietly enjoying the simple act of sitting with Hope and their friends. Unlike the earlier moments between him and Hope, the table was filled with a quiet tension. Despite the usual banter from nearby tables, his group seemed to feel the weight of yesterday's revelation. It wasn't something they could just brush off; it was life-changing, for all of them.

Kaleb, ever the one to lighten the mood, tried to crack a smile, though it felt strained. Josie, seated just across from him, seemed deep in thought, her eyes occasionally flickering towards Michael, then darting away when he caught her glance.

The group seemed relaxed, though there was still an unspoken tension lingering. As breakfast concluded, Michael excused himself to go for a walk in the nearby woods, a place he often went when he needed to clear his mind. The trees were alive with the sound of birds, the wind gently rustling the leaves overhead. It was peaceful, a moment of serenity in a whirlwind of discovery.

As he walked along a narrow trail, lost in thought, he nearly bumped into Josie once more. The two shared an awkward laugh, Michael joking lightly, "Josie. It is strange for this to have happened again. Did you need something before? If so then apologies, my mind was elsewhere during breakfast ."

Josie smiled nervously, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Actually, I… was hoping to find you."

Michael raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "Oh?"

"I just… I needed to talk to you about something," Josie admitted, her voice soft. She hesitated before continuing, wringing her hands. "I know this is probably going to sound ridiculous, but… I've had feelings for you for a while. I know it's stupid, someone like me, with someone like you. It's laughable, really."

Her words gave Michael pause. Was this what the average person felt in the possibility of being with someone such as himself? He held a strong affirmation that he has helped Hope through her confliction, but one could never be sure without prying into ones mind, an ability he discovered he had, but never dared use out of respect.

He had seen glimpses of these feelings from her before, but never so plainly laid out in front of him. Yet what struck him more was the way she spoke of herself, with such self-deprecation. It troubled him deeply.

"Josie," he said gently, "you're not 'lesser' or 'unworthy.' You're a kind, strong person, and I'm grateful you feel this way about me. But you should never think so little of yourself. You are...extraordinary in your own right, a power like yours...You and your sister defy nature, yet you remained unchanged by it. I strive to be as such"

A faint blush crept across her cheeks, and she smiled shyly, clearly moved by his words. Slowly, she reached out and took one of his hands in her own. "I was wondering… if I could ask you something. Something that might seem a little… invasive."

Michael chuckled softly. "Given everything I have experienced in my time here, I believe I can withstand it. What is your inquiry?"

"As a Siphoner, I can't hold magic of my own," Josie explained. "But I can take magic from outside sources and use it. I was wondering if… if I could siphon just a flake from the beach that's your power, to understand it."

Michael thought for a moment. thinking of what could transpire before nodding. "I would be glad to. It is of no cost at all, not for you."

Josie placed her hands on his, and as she siphoned a small fraction of his immense power, her eyes widened in awe. She felt not only the raw magic but also the warmth, the love, the divine essence of Michael. It was overwhelming, like nothing she had ever experienced. She visibly glowed form her very being, her eyes resembling his when he wielded his own power. 

But what happened next shocked her even more. Michael clasped her hand in his, focusing on the tiny spark she had siphoned, and manipulated it, turning it into a self-sustaining font of power within her, one that grew from him, like a small leaking hole in an otherwise uncaring ocean. For the first time, Josie not only felt magic flowing through her that was entirely her own, but it was more potent then anything she'd ever felt, only comparable to him. 

"It is but a small gift," Michael explained, his voice gentle. "I mean not to lecture in things you have mastered over your life, but with power comes responsibility. Use it wisely, Josie. All power, no matter how small, carries consequences."

Josie's breath caught in her throat as she felt the magic pulsing within her. "Thank you," she whispered, her heart pounding with emotion. As she placed a hand on her stomach, feeling the newfound power settle within her, she smiled at him, knowing this was a moment she would never forget.