19: Handwritten

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 The trip down and up from Envy didn't actually take that long, and though TC was still half-heartedly panicking the whole time, it was fairly clear we were going to make it out of Hell with time to spare.

TC clutched her files close to her chest. She had grabbed a couple newspapers and books in addition to her favorite three files, and was struggling to hold them all while still supporting Wynona. I didn't bother offering to help.

"We should really figure something out for these kids." TC said. "You know, to care for them. Do you think your Michael knows anything about childcare? Because I fear for their lives otherwise. They need food, water, sleep, diapers, an environment that encourages learning. I don't know what else. But somehow I'm not comfortable about handing over kids this young to him. Or generally stealing kids. Still not okay with that either."

"They're mine to hand over anyway, so it doesn't matter what you think." I said.

The children had calmed down a bit, though still looked uncomfortable at being held by either of us. The infant squirmed in my arms. On suggestion from TC, we had wiped some of the caked blood off their faces and clothes, but there still was a rusty residue.

"Michael," I said, "Knows how to raise children. He raised us. He is our mother, after all, and even if you force the belief he used a bottled Grace to do it, you cannot deny that he created us."

"You never seem to bother with implications, do you? Like, following a thought and keeping it going for more than a sentence. It's remarkable." TC said, exasperated. "But about Michael. Is there any reason you refer to uh, him, as a mother figure instead of a father one?"

"Women, or at least angelic ones, are holy and pure. And Michael is holy and pure. So it is not a leap for him to be understood as a woman."

"Is he- are they?- a woman though? I mean, you say this but continue to use male pronouns."

"No, he's male. But he's also female. It is not hard to understand- after all, he ranks above the other angelic women. Naturally, this means he's ranked above the need to be one sex or the other. Michael is everything. It is a simple thing to understand."

She was quiet for a few minutes. "'Michael is everything'. Oh dear. I'm afraid we're starting to touch on something I've been meaning to talk to you about for a very long time now, and that you're going to absolutely hate me for when I'm done."

"I don't necessarily hate you." I said.

"I don't expect you to. Right now, that is. I just know that what I'm going to say is going to make you angry, and I just want to be upfront about that fact right now."

"Tell me, then."

"Let's wait until we're in the elevator. I'd hate for you to run away mid-sentence."

I decided to assume it was on purpose that TC, leading the way as always, took me down to Wrath just to use the elevator to the present Earth. I figured she just wanted the extra time to lecture me on whatever, otherwise she would have just taken the much shorter ride up from Pride.

I filled her in, briefly, on what I had been doing in the last few days- Purgatory, Marie, Michael's orders and Moll's disgusting half breeds. She didn't offer much for comments about anything.

It was only as the elevator doors in the lowest room in Hell slowly creaked shut that she seemed inspired with energy to chat. She carefully placed Wynona on the floor, and after a moments though, took off her coat for the child to sit on. Then she settled on the floor and spread her files and papers all around her like the worn metal floor was her desktop.

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