Michael had always thought he'd die young doing the Lord's work. He'd been content knowing that it was a worthy way to live and end one's life. Retirement had been a fresh experience. He'd suddenly had time to spend with his children and eventually, his grandchildren. Each day was a gift he treasured.

But time caught up with him. He'd survived all his injuries, but they had taken a toll on his body, and as the years went by he felt their weight on his shoulders. Charity had sternly insisted he trade his cane in for the walker. It was degrading to hobble around with it, but he also knew that it brought his wife comfort knowing that he wouldn't be falling over when his weak leg gave out.

It gave him a few more years. His legs might be failing him, but his mind was still clear, his hands steady. When he wasn't seeing his grandchildren, he was in the workshop. He'd made Charity a cane simply smiling at her annoyance and insistence that she did not need.

He persuaded her to keep it for the day she might. He never told her but he wanted her to have some keepsake of his when he was gone.

It was his heart that failed him. Rising from bed each day became harder until, finally, he barely managed to do that. He could see it on Charity and Molly's faces when they returned from a private discussion with the doctor, that he was out of time. It was alright. He'd had plenty of it, more than he had ever expected to be given.

His loved ones were there for him when the darkness slowly descended and he squeezed their hands in his for as long as he had the strength to do so. He always knew that there was nothing to fear. He would see them all again.

Heaven was… a surprise. None of the angels he had met had ever told him a single detail about what awaited him beyond the pearly gates. They had all taken a coy sort of pleasure a parent might have in seeing their children peering at presents under the Christmas tree each time he asked.

It was not quite a material place and time seemed to flow strangely-beyond his grasp and largely unimportant. His parents were there. The friends who had fallen in combat when he'd been in the army, as well as those he'd served with as a Knight of the Cross. Shiro. Karrin Murphy and Father Forthill. They smiled and embraced him, young and fresh-faced, free from all the burdens of their past life. There wasn't any sorrow in Heaven.

Daniel was the first of his children to join him.

He had retired from the fray when he'd become a father but he never stopped fighting the good fight. One never did. He'd heard a commotion in an alley on the way home from work one night and investigated. It wasn't a vampire or one of the Fomor hurting the young woman but a far worse sort of monster. The human kind. The rapist had panicked, unloading a revolver at Daniel in his haste to get away. The young woman survived. Daniel hadn't.

Charity came to him next, as beautiful as the day he first met her. Her smile lit up even Heaven itself. She told him of how well little Harry was doing in school. How Matthew had taken over Michael's business. Alicia had taken up Amoracchius and had already saved Harry Dresden's scrawny ass (her words) twice. Amanda was studying law and Hope was considering doing the same.

Alicia arrived accompanied by a squad of warrior angels led by the Prince of the Host himself, much like Sanya's arrival only a few years before.

Michael beamed at his daughter as the angels departed and she told him all about the goings-on in the world. How things were growing darker and more dangerous - A power stirring. She'd fought it and beaten it back, gladly paying the price.

He hadn't been as proud of her as the day they had lost the softball final. Alicia had rallied her distraught teammates and dragged them all off for ice cream to celebrate their second place finish, spending two weeks' allowance to pay for it all. Despite the defeat, he'd never seen a wider smile on her face than when she returned home that night.

The rest of his children eventually joined him in their Father's embrace, each with a story to tell, but none of them mentioned Molly. His questions, repeated to each of his children when they came to him, were always met with silence. By the time his grandchildren arrived, he'd stopped asking.

He was worried about the answer.

It took Harry Dresden a long time to join him, of course. Wizards lived long lives and Harry always had a tendency to be fashionably late. By the time he was there, generations of Michael's descendants were already with him.

Uriel accompanied the man, undoubtedly smiling at some crude joke made at his expense. Harry hadn't changed. He even wore that old coat, the very first he'd seen him in, that seemed like something he'd stolen off the set of El Dorado.

Several other men appeared before Michael could greet his old friend. One of them old and stocky, with a ferocious gray beard, dressed in overalls. Harry shook the man's hand.

The second was taller than the first, almost as tall as Dresden himself, and considerably broader. His posture suggested he was a soldier and he wore a gray cloak about his shoulder, though the sword that had once been at his hip was gone now. There was no longer any need for it.

Michael had only seen the man once and had never spoken to him, but Dresden had complained about him often enough.

"Took you long enough, Dresden," Morgan said.

Dresden sighed dramatically, looking from the former Warden to Uriel.

"Hey, Mr. Sunshine. Is it too late to take that southbound train after all?"

Uriel shook his head but Michael saw him smiling before he vanished. Harry finished talking to the wizards and they agreed to meet up later for a couple of beers. Of course there was beer in Heaven. How else could it truly be considered a paradise?

It was as if they'd met only yesterday, though Michael knew hundreds of years had gone by.

"Been a while," Harry said. "I guess I owe you a couple of bucks or something. I never expected to end up here."

Michael smiled.

"I was always certain you would."

Harry snorted and shook his head.

"If you want to tell me 'I told you so', get it over with."

They both laughed and hugged with a carefree joviality they had rarely been able to indulge in when they were alive.

"How is the world?"

"Spinning around, as per usual," Harry said. "Things got pretty bad for a while but we managed to sort it out. Maggie's been taking charge of things. Chip off the old block, that one. Turns out the conservatives were wrong about the damage having two fathers would do to a kid."

He winked and continued.

"The Outsiders almost got through but we managed to stop them. Cut off their support on this side."

Michael considered asking about Molly. She'd only been a little over a decade younger than Harry and that meant she should be along soon. He decided to wait.

Years went by. Michael saw Harry every so often. Perhaps it was coincidence that led them to be together, enjoying a cold beer, when Maggie arrived, but Michael leaned towards providence.

Harry had described the woman Maggie had grown up to be but Michael had not had a lot of time to do so himself. She was tall, like her father, but looked more like her mother. Her features were a little too sharp to be considered conventionally pretty, but she was certainly striking.

The bottle slipped from Harry's limp fingers and he was almost barreled over when Maggie jumped into his arms.

"Easy, kid," he wheezed, though he squeezed her just as hard in return. "Easy. Don't act so surprised to see me here."

Maggie beamed and she'd barely untangled herself from her father before Michael received a similar treatment.

"We won!" She exclaimed. "We won! You should've seen me!"

Michael found himself chuckling, remembering her infectious enthusiasm and how unchanged it had been by the passage of centuries. She stepped back, facing each of them in turn, smile never wavering.

"You should've seen Molly," Maggie continued. "She was brilliant."

Then she looked at Michael and her expression flickered with something. Like when she'd been caught spilling a secret of her sibling's at the dinner table.

Michael steeled himself and worked up the courage to ask the question that had troubled him for a long, long time.

"Where's Molly?"

Maggie winced and Harry stepped forward, putting a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"She's the Winter Queen now, Michael. She isn't coming."

It turned out that there were tears even in Heaven.