Azrael knocked on Linda's door, brows furrowed. At the doctor's pleasant greeting, she opened the door. "Sorry, my brother asked me to meet him here." Her tone was uncertain, and she hesitated outside the door.

Linda looked up from her desk with a smile. "Yes, come in. Have a seat; he should be here any minute. How are you setting in?"

Azrael came into the room and perched on the edge of the couch. "Fine," she replied as Linda came around to sit in the nearby chair. "Got some new clothes." She gestured to her shirt, a long-sleeved black and white raglan-style tee reading 'Death is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.' "Michael sent one that said Daddy's Little Angel, if you can believe that. It had glitter." Shaking her head at this most egregious of Michael's crimes, she added, "Oh, and I held a baby."

"Well," Linda replied pleasantly, reaching back to the desk for her coffee mug, "it's good to hear that you're expressing yourself, having some positive experiences. Was that the first time you've held a baby?"

Azrael nodded. "Well," she amended, "one that was alive."

Linda carefully lowered her coffee mug, which had been nearly touching her mouth. After a moment, she suggested, "I'm assuming that relates to your... former job?

Azrael ducked her head. "Yes. Sorry. I guess that sounded, well, strange." She shook her head, expression one of disbelief. "The baby's mom said she would have asked me to babysit, if I'd been older. If she'd known who she was asking..."

"Well," Linda said thoughtfully, "who was she asking?"

Azrael gestured at herself. "Angel of Death," she replied. "Well, on hiatus, but still. I mean, its not as bad as how they think of Luci, but you humans don't exactly welcome me with open arms. And she just handed me her offspring, didn't bat an eye."

Linda smiled. "Well, why shouldn't she, Rae? What would you do to a baby?"

"Nothing," Azrael replied quickly. She considered Linda for a moment, then added, "You know I-I mean, the Angel of Death-I didn't actually kill anybody, right? I just... dealt with the aftermath."

Expression reflective, Linda said, "I never thought about it, really. Gaze flicking to Azrael, she added, "You had to take babies?"

"Well, babies die," Azrael replied, her tone gentle. Lips curving slightly, she added, "Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints."

Linda's eyes narrowed. "Did you just quote Hamilton?"

"Yes, sorry." Azrael's smile widened. "Not really appropriate for the situation, but it's so good. I've seen it, well, more times than I care to admit."

"How did you get tickets?" Linda queried. "I heard it was impossible."

Azrael looked amused. "The Angel of Death doesn't need theater tickets," she explained expansively. "You humans can't-couldn't-see me unless I wished it." She relaxed against the couch, adding, "If you really want to go, there's probably someone involved who owes Lucifer a favor."

"That's how you were using your gifts, little sister?" Amenadiel stood in the doorway, expression not exactly approving.

Azrael sat up sharply, but when she spoke, her tone was mild. "Don't judge me, brother-not for that, at least. It was worth bending the rules."

"Come in and sit down, Amenadiel," Linda encouraged. "We're going to try and keep an open mind-Azrael, I saw that," she added as Azrael, while her brother was passing in front of the couch, stuck her tongue out at him.

"Sorry," Azrael replied cheerfully, completely without contrition. "People keep commenting on my age, or what they think it is. Must be rubbing off on me or something."

Amenadiel settled at the other end of the couch from his sister. "Are you going to take this seriously?" he asked, shooting a quelling look at his sister.

"I don't even know what this is," Azrael replied, a defensive tone creeping into her voice.

Linda took a deep breath. "All right," she said briskly, her manner one that would have worked well for unruly second-graders. "Amenadiel asked me if I would help the two of you work through some issues. Amenadiel, do you want to start?"

Azrael turned to stare at her brother. "That's what this is about? I told Mom I 'd speak with you; you didn't have to-" Catching Linda's stern look, she subsided, settling back against the couch and regarding her brother, though not without a sardonic lift of her eyebrows. "Sorry. Go ahead, brother."

Amenadiel shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "The last time we saw each other, I got angry with you," he said, taking his time, choosing his words carefully.

"I remember that part," Azrael murmured.

Linda, ignoring Azrael's aside, asked, "What made you angry, Amenadiel?"

"She-"

"Tell Azrael," Linda redirected.

Amenadiel turned to his sister. "You asked for my help."

After shooting a glance at Linda, perhaps for permission to speak, Azrael suggested, "That was never a problem before, brother."

"Right." Amenadiel smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "But this time I couldn't help. You're my baby sister, begging me to help you, and I couldn't."

Azrael's brows furrowed. "I wasn't angry that you wouldn't-couldn't help," she said. "Just-" She stopped abruptly, looking away.

"Disappointed," Amenadiel finished heavily. "In me."

"Not about that."

The silence hung for a moment, then Linda asked, "What disappointed you, Azrael?"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand, then pulled her legs onto the couch to sit cross-legged. "You're Amenadiel," she said finally.

"So?" Amenadiel replied.

"No," Azrael replied, the words bursting forth as a flood from a broken dam. "You're Amenadiel. Father's warrior, oldest of us all, strongest of us all, and you threw it all away for a demon. For her."

"Azrael, stop." The note of warning in Amenadiel's voice was unmistakable.

Linda sat straighter in her chair. "Are you talking about Maze?" she queried, a hint of stiffness to her voice.

Azrael took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment. With only the barest of glances to Linda, and no acknowledgement of her question, she turned back to Amenadiel. "Mom said she doesn't matter, that family is the most important thing. I just-" She turned away, head dropping, jaw working, her hair falling to curtain her face.

Amenadiel cast a look to Linda, mouthing, "Now what?" When Linda gestured toward Azrael, he slid closer to her on the couch, half-reached toward her shoulder, she pulled back his hand. "Azrael." She didn't answer. "Rae."

The girl spoke, but too quietly.

Linda prompted gently, "Could you speak up, Rae?"

Azrael sat up, wiping impatiently at her eyes with the back of one hand. "This stupid body," she fumed, her frustration not helped by a mid-word hiccup. "Always leaking and-" She sneezed.

"God bless you," Linda said automatically.

There was a frozen silence.

After a moment, Azrael leaned back against the couch and laughed, an edge of hysteria to the sound. It took her a few moments to get herself under control. "Oh," she said finally, the remnants of her laughter bubbling at the edge of the drawn-out word. "Oh, if only that's all it took. Keep asking, Doctor. Maybe Dad will listen."

"I'm sorry," Linda began, but Azrael interrupted her.

"Don't be," she said, voice sincere. "It-the timing was odd, but it helped." Turning to Amenadiel, moisture still clinging to her eyelashes, she said, "Let's try this again. Mazikeen scares me, okay? I'm sure you must see something in her, beyond her obvious assets, but this is kind of hard to take." Amenadiel started to speak, but Azrael interrupted, adding gently, "I also get that it's none of my business. I'm trying, okay?"

Amenadiel hesitated, then said, "Maze wouldn't hurt you."

Azrael laughed, not without a trace of bitterness. "Brother, I can think of several situations where she would do just that."

Linda asked Azrael, "Have you spent much time with Maze?"

"No."

"Maybe you should try," Linda suggested. "Maze has changed rather significantly since I've known her."

"No," Azrael repeated, though without the fervor of her previous refusal.

Linda regarded Azrael for a long moment. "Just consider the possibility, Azrael. You don't have to do anything. Just think about it."

Azrael was silent for a long moment. "I will consider the possibility," she said, with dignity.

"Good," Linda said, smiling. "Is there anything else?"

Amenadiel coughed. "Sorry for how that conversation ended," he told Azrael.

"With the violence, you mean?" Azrael queried, with a hint of a smile for Linda's suddenly raised eyebrows. "Scary at the time-fragile mortal body and all-" She eyed Amenadiel. "Wait. Mom told you to say that."

Amenadiel chuckled. "Okay, true. But I would have thought about saying it, at least."

Azrael shrugged. "Close enough," she observed, getting to her feet. "Now, unless there is something else, I do have somewhere I need to be."

After a look of inquiry to Amenadiel, Linda nodded. "Remember, consider the possibility."

"I will," Azrael replied, inclining her head. "Brother, maybe next time we can talk without medical intervention."

Amenadiel smiled. "Sounds good, little sister. Let me walk you out."

Author's note: Just so we're perfectly clear, I do not believe that anyone involved with Hamilton made a deal with Lucifer. (But the show is good enough that I could entertain the possibility...)