The next morning, I realized I couldn't spend the rest of the day just sitting with Phin, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. I ran a few ideas by Phin, who merely laughed.

First on my list was a visit to the morgue. Bad idea, dumb idea, but I was at the hospital before this really started tot settle in my mind. The morgue was unlocked and by the cafeteria, and luckily the body I was looking for was easily labeled.

This was a terrible idea. Rhamiel had been white enough from years of spent in a prison cell underground. Now he was dead, a new level of pale had been achieved by his corpse. This was gross. His clothes were brown with bloodstains, but otherwise untouched- I didn't know a thing about morgues, but I'd figured they would've cut him open and examined him by now. Did morgues do that?

They probably did that to angels, at least.

I stared at the body for a while. It sat there. Someone had folded his now permanently physical wings behind him poorly, and feathers stuck out at odd angles. Without really thinking I began to straighten them, sticking my hand under the cold corpse and causing him body to wobble uneasily.

Man. The fuck was I doing.

I sat down on a table. It was cold as shit in here, and I... kept sitting. A lot of time passed, or at least, a lot compared the average amount of time most people would spend sitting in a morgue and staring at a thawing body.

Unexpectedly, Pepper came in. She blinked in disbelief that I was here. I stared with similar emotions.

"Small city, huh?" I said.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

I gestured towards her. When she stared blankly, I said, "Same to you."

"I'm going to preform funeral rights on," she pointed at Rhamiel, "This body. It's rather upsetting to see you... already have it out."

"Did you know Rhamiel?"

"In death, he carries no name," Pepper shook her head, "But no, I didn't. He would've known who I was though." For once, everything about her looked real.

"Don't you guys burn bodies in your funerals?"

"How do you know that, Mannie?" Pepper said, "Yes. Obviously, I can't do that now. I thought I'd just drain his blood and sing the song."

"What's the song like?" I half wondered if I knew it. If I knew Michael- and well, I did- he was probably using the lyrics of some old lullaby.

"If you help me drain the blood, you'll get hear it."

"And how do you suppose we do that?"

Pepper bit her lip. She wasn't wearing makeup today, and in the harsh light, her hair nearly looked natural. At the very least, she didn't look tacky. "Normally Vic and Cas handle this sort of thing, and they have blades to pull it off. I figured I could try... maybe if we slit hit wrists lengthwise?"

"That seems a bit disturbing."

"You're right. I'll just sing. Michael'll get his soul either ways, right?" Pepper fixed Rhamiel's hair with her fingers, brushing it out of his face.

"Why're you asking me?"

"You know a lot more than you should about my family. Do you know our funeral song?"

"It'll be in angelic, so probably not. But you start."

Pepper wasn't a good singer, and she started flatly, humming an instrumental part before singing in that messy fake language she knew better than I.

Yeah, I had been right. Not a song I'd ever sung, but an old one Michael used to mumble, a song for his sister that his father had never shared with him. About the stars, infinity, and a whole lot of other things Michael had always felt entitled to own.

I wasn't good enough with the language to join in, but I listened, sitting on the table still and kicking my legs. Pepper wasn't a good singer, but lullabies don't demand anything more than a voice.

When she was done, Pepper did a circular hand motion, said a couple words in angelic, and looked up at me.

"Let's leave him to rot," she said. "I'm going to go hang with Christina. You're free to come with."

"Sure. I have time to kill."

"I figured as much."

"What are you doing here?" Christina asked, taking another long sip of coffee. It was over an hour later, and I'd already been in her house for twenty minutes. This question had been thrown around a lot.

"Waiting." Christina lived in a cabin on the past Earth on permission from Kell, taking care of the place for whenever The Few wanted to get away from Hell. I had a feeling he had a soft spot for her. Maybe if I had blabbed my life story to him, he'd have given me this gig instead.

"I guess we're doing that too," Pepper sounded like she was trying to defend me. I guess we had bonded. I guess I liked her a little more than I had this morning.

Was this friendship? Was this how friends were made?

"It's just a little weird, no offense," Christina said, "Do you want to watch TV or something?" I was sitting across from her and Pepper, on one of the armchairs in the living room. The cabin wasn't much for luxury, but it made up for this in chairs. There were a lot of fucking chairs.

"What time does the party start?" I asked.

"I'd hesitate to call it that. The angels are supposed to get here by eight, and everyone else is supposed to show up before then."

"I'm going to bed until then." I stood up.

"Mannie, it's eleven in the morning."

"Come on, stay with us. We can play boardgames!"

I sat back down. "Okay. Fine."

"Seriously? That's what it takes to win you over?" Christina said. "I mean this nicely, but you're weird."

"Man! This morning, right, I was putting that dead angel's spirit at rest, right? Mannie was there, and like, knew our funeral song. Something's weird about that."

"Well..." Christina glanced at me. "I get the feeling you know something that's going to hurt everyone else, like some grand secret best reserved for the finale."

"Don't you think the finale was back when Percy had tied everyone up and tortured someone live on camera."

She eyed me with great worry. "There's still tonight."

"Oh, lay off it," Pepper said. She leaned forward, eyes shining, "Hey, Mannie, are you an angel?"

I shifted in my chair. "Wouldn't you know me if I was?"

"You look familiar."

"Probably because you've known me for a week. This is stupid. What board games do you own?"

Pepper dropped the subject, but kept looking at me like we were kindred spirits. Was this friendship? Christina owned a lot of board games, or maybe The Few did- but it was kind of silly to think of all them gathered around a table rolling dice like a strange family. Board games had always seemed luck based to me, but I lost at everything we played. After three rounds, we stopped for lunch, and another game later, we heard the sounds of someone entering the mudroom.

We stopped everything. It was two pm, and while it wasn't inconceivable someone would come early, something felt a little off.

Christina voiced what was wrong, "Who the fuck arrives through the backdoor?" She whispered. The cabin was long and large, the bottom floor being nearly one room, and the backdoor seriously out of the way. It was strange that someone would-

Oh. Okay. It was Michael.

Michael would.

"Hello," Christina stood up and held her hands together politely. "You're early. We aren't expecting you until eight tonight."

Michael looked around cheerfully, with an odd little smile. He picked a framed photograph off the wall and held it close to his face. When he was done, he hung it back up again with a wide grin.

"Hi. Who are you?"

"Christina McKean. You're free to stay, but I don't know what there is for you to do."

"I'll spend my time with the gardener and the fallen, no offense arii. I know them already, you see," Michael earnestly explained, "I thought I'd swing by early to see what the place is like. I'm already quite fond!"

"How do you know Mannie?" Pepper asked. She'd gone into a little bow at the sight of Michael, and still had her head down.

"Is that your name?" Michael sounded very surprised by this, that fucker.

"Did you tell your brothers you were going?" I said plainly to him, too tired to argue my identity again.

His face was ever unchanging. "No."

"They don't know where this place is, do they? You need to remember to tell them these things."

"Uriel doesn't even know there's a peace thing tonight." Michael sounded an awful lot like he was boasting.

"I know you don't get along with him, but it's important you do these things together, as a family."

Michael sighed, still grinning, and then his face fell into a frown. He turned on his heel and left.

There was a long pause. "The hell was that?" Christina asked, turning to me.

"Michael has this bad habit of doing things and never telling people about them," I tried to explain as matter of factually as I could, "For your peace thing to be successful, it's important all the archangels are present."

"Thanks, but you just..." Christina shook her head, "I don't know what that was, but it adds something to my theory."

"A lot more to mine," Pepper added.

"Oh, come on," I said, "If I were an angel, I'd be showing him a lot more respect."

"Maybe you're fallen?" Pepper said.

"You can't seriously cling to that."

"I've seen your face before." Pepper pointed carefully at me, like she was afraid to come off as to confrontational.

"Yeah. Yesterday. The day before that. I've been on the news lately," I grumbled. "I'm going to sleep."

"Where?" Christina asked. "Not in my room."

"I know where the guest rooms are," I said under my breath, putting back on my coat for no good reason.

"How'd you know that?" Pepper said with great excitement, turning to follow me as I walked past the couch.

I stomped my feet down every step up the stairs, further emphasizing my frustration at... Pepper, I guess? So much for our budding friendship.

I guess I was more pissed at Michael, as I was prone to be, as I generally could always be counted on being. Every little bit about his existence- boy- that kind of thing really got on my nerves.

After making sure to slam the door to the guest room shut, I collapsed on the bed, rolled around for a while, and quickly got to sleep.

I didn't sleep for five hours straight, but I got up at seven PM regardless, groggy but awake. I edged down the stairs carefully, listening at every step to the sounds of downstairs. It was late enough that everyone still alive from The Few ought've been here, and I could make out most of their voices from the stairs.

Closest, presumably occupying the couch, was Noel, Kelsey, and someone I didn't know. He was bizarrely loud, but acted quite shy. Probably someone being tried as a replacement.

I creeped up to the corner of the stair well, sitting still as I tried to listen for more voices. Christina was definitely lecturing Pepper about something at the far end of the room. Kell seemed to be talking with Stacy about something, while Glenn was loudly insisting to Lane that she was fine, and needed to be here and not the hospital.

Lot of voices. Lot of people, minus five. No Blake yet.

I peeked around the corner. By dumb luck, Kell happened to be looking exactly my way, and our eyes met for an uncomfortable amount of time. He put his cup of tea down, and looked ready to protest my presence.

I hurried into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" Kell got up as I did so. "Please." He did not need to follow it up with a 'go' for me to understand what he meant.

"Sleeping." I said, spinning in a circle as I properly took in my surroundings. God, this place had a lot of fucking chairs. "Blake here?"

Christina, holding a tray of brownies, gave me a blank look. "Yeah, he's right-"

At that moment, Blake peered at me from around the corner, in the kitchen. Pepper gave a little wave. I ran the fuck out of there, through the side door and into the backyard. I dodged my way around the house like I was being pursued, and eventually came to rest behind a small pine tree in the backyard, panting heavily.

That had been stupid.

I rolled over onto my stomach, and watched from under the branches. The living room area- which was most of the first floor- had a gigantic rectangle of a window overlooking it. From here, I could clearly see inside. Blake was back in the kitchen, presumably, out of sight, and besides the look on Kell's face, it seemed as though I'd been instantly forgotten.

It was chilly out. Good thing I still had the coat I'd slept in on. Whose coat was this? Mine? I'd sort of forgotten.

Oh well. It kept me warm.

The angels arrived in one group, approaching the house like a group of trick or treaters. It was October both here and in Heaven, and Michael still had the gall to dress like a tool. And force his brothers to do the same.

At least he'd brought them- as well as Cassiel, and one of the other women. Vaguely, I did remember her old name. I think she'd been the girlfriend of someone. Of course, she didn't remember that now.

Now she was in a silly dress, nervously clinging to Michael's arm as he knocked on the door to this den of demons, afraid of automatic lights and other women.

Christina ushered them in with careful politeness, a little head nod as each passed her by- except Percy, who she stiffly kept still for. Michael walked in with a defiant boldness, sauntering and clearly loud. He took a seat at one end of the dining table, and held his hands together, looking around like everyone else should've already been waiting for him here.

The other angels swarmed the table, settling in the chairs. Cassiel and the other woman especially looked uncomfortable, stiffly refusing to look at too much of the room, and maybe a bit confused as to why they were here in the first place. At least Uriel looked like he knew what a living room was.

Michael was very clearly sizing up the demons, taking a minute to stare at each one, and occasionally shaking his head at the end of each evaluation. Christina had taken it upon herself to try and distract him, pulling up a chair and talking in quick bursts. It was only when she offered him a bowl of mints that he stopped, and he spent the next several minutes quickly eating the entire bowl. Raphael was visibly disgusted.

The new guy- a bulky, jerky looking guy with curled bull horns and a penchant for showing off his kill mark tattoos- must have said something crazy, because suddenly Michael stood up and walked towards him in a manner of aggression more suited to a bird- slowly, like he had feathers to flare up before any sort of action could occur. The new demon also stood up, clearly egging him on- before immediately being knocked cold by a single hit from Michael.

He looked like a wimp, but Grace is a powerful thing. The guy actually was sent flying, knocked right back onto the couch and partially onto Kelsey's lap, who jumped up in alarm. Christina grabbed Michael by the arm and tried to placate him with more mints, but he shoved her hand away and pointed towards himself, barking something.

Gabriel stood up and started chattering, and pretty soon Michael had been coaxed back into his chair.

I edged a bit closer to the window. Where had Blake gone?

Lane and Noel grabbed an ice pack and carried the new guy upstairs. Glenn rocked slowly in her rocking chair, lightly touching the still raw cuts on her face. She had clearly removed the bandages too early, and every time her finger brushed her pink flesh, it'd turn briefly white.

Half an hour later, when Michael lashed out about something someone had said, leaping to his feet and gesturing wildly, Glenn fainted. She was back in a second, but clearly woozy, and Lane helped her upstairs.

Kell said something. I couldn't help but mostly keep my eyes on him- well, him and Michael. Naturally. He wasn't impressed by what'd he seen of the angels, and had the same sort of frown on his face that I'd occasionally prompt. That look in his eyes like he'd never be paid enough for this.

He said something, and I could see it on his face that it was a quip. Michael leapt to his feet again, his gut reaction to most things. With one fluid movement, he drew his blade, and had it against Kell's skin. There was no other way to describe his expression besides 'fuming'- breathing hard, each breath a inhale a physical lift of his body.

Christina threw her hands up and was talking quickly, as was Gabriel. Kell sighed, and slowly rolled his eyes, a direct challenge. Blake appeared from around the corner, holding a glass of milk, and seeming quite alarmed. At least, his eyes widened.

Michael spun around, effortlessly calling a second blade into his hands, and forming it into a pike. He pointed it at Blake, and shouted something.

This was so stupid.

I was close enough to the window anyway. I got up and took a few steps around the side of the house, and went back inside. Everything about this was dumb was hell, and it figured I'd...

Oh. I don't know. I really don't.

Something about this figured. You try to spy on a party, and your former best friend threatens your newer former best friend with a spear. You plan to be cool and let said newer former best friend get absorbed by a time glitch, and still feel the need to jump in and save his life. Like you aren't planning on ensuring he doesn't lose his in a few hours anyways.

Except all those 'you's are about me. You know. I know.

Whatever.

I entered the living room, and Michael swung to face me.

"Gardener demon," he said, sounding like a complete imbecile.

"Hey Michael. What's up?"

"Oh. You know." He fixed his posture, and hid both his weapons. "I was wondering where you were."

"Did you never glance out the window?" Kell said. "I'm going to focus on pointing out how obvious Mannie was in sitting outside and watching us instead of noting how ludicrous it is that you two know each other."

"Is it really that silly?" I said.

"No. It makes perfect fucking sense," Kell huffed, "And I'm not particularly happy about that."

"Hey Mannie." Blake looked at me, tightly clutching his glass of milk. He'd retreated back to the safety of the kitchen the moment the attention had been off him, and he barely moved forward to speak.

"Hi."

There was a dreadful lull in the conversation. Noel, I noted, was still clutching a handgun half hidden by her side. Raphael was slowly rubbing the ring he had on his index finger with his thumb.

Blake was standing there.

"Uh, right. So." Michael cleared his throat, and then with a fluid shift, again had his blade positioned at Kell's throat. Kell leaned back a bit and scowled. "Why shouldn't I take vengeance? Claim one life in exchange for another? One life in exchange for hundreds, truly."

"I didn't kill hundreds of angels." Kell sounded like a tired professor correcting a seventh grader's grammar.

"Aerdens, your name alone is worth twenty deaths."

"The hell does that mean," Kell said flatly.

"Aerdens!" Michael snarled, flipping his sword so that the sharp end pressed against Kell's throat.

Kell looked at me, and mouthed something. Why do people expect me to know how to read lips?

"What does that word mean?" Kelsey asked, appearing far more concerned than Kell about all this.

"You're next." Michael glared at him.

"Jesus fuck," I sighed, stepping forward. It'd been long enough. "It means 'air tooth', like 'sky blue tooth', like 'angels are fucking awful at nicknames'. Now come on Michael, give it a rest." I gently touched his hand, and he jerked back, dropping his blade. It clattered on the hardwood floor once before dissolving into non existence.

"He was being rude to me!" Michael whined. I took his hand in mine, and he clutched my hand.

I looked deep into his eyes. God, you know, he actually had really nice eyes. I wasn't one to pay attention to such things, but his were bright blue. Fake as shit. The sort of color only comic book character could have. "You are a goddamn child."

"Watch your language, Mannie," Kell said sweetly, and I made sure to roll my eyes at him.

Michael frowned, and when he took his hand out of mine, he'd left his ring. I would've hugged him, but I settled for a nod, and he whispered:

"Alright."

And that was enough.