The next month passes mostly in a blur. Ella thinks at some point she'll lose the feeling that nothing is actually real, this surreality of almost floating through life, but not in a carefree way. More as if she lets anything jar her too hard, she'll just float away and disappear forever. Somehow, driving cross country with the (mostly) Archangel Michael felt a million times more solid and real than anything now in her daily routine at Linda's. But here she is.

Eve and Maze don't actually live there, but one of them if not both are always over. Ella's pretty sure it's to be a mix of extra protection (Maze) and nurturing (definitely Eve) for Charlie. Linda works a regular schedule now and is at her office downtown at least three days a week, sometimes four. Around the bounties and the last minute emergency sessions with L.A.'s most neurotic power brokers, the three people actually in the house most of the time are her, Amenadiel, and Charlie.

She's okay with that, mostly.

Amenadiel doesn't pry. Linda tries to get her to open up, tries to get her to try therapy, but Ella just can't. She had her fill of sofas and shrinks and meds that made her groggy when she was still a kid. Eve's nicer about her overtures, and it's almost hard to resist when she has those huge friendly eyes and that bubbly personality, but Ella manages. Maze, being Maze, is blunt. She's no more subtle trying to get Ella to open up about her road trip than the demon was practically wanting to throw convicts in her lap to help her get some energy post Pete out with a new rebound bad boy. Maze seems to think that trashing Michael will help her, and of all things, it makes Ella shut down the fastest. Because he did awful things, but he wasn't awful to her.

And she's pretty sure no one at Linda's pad can really understand that.

But Amenadiel is quiet, reflective, and she has no idea how he fared around just the other angels she knows so far—Lucifer who, as much as she loves him, is a showboat and sucks all the oxygen out of a room; Azrael, who chatters as fast and as excitedly as she does on anything nerdy; and Michael who…well he had never met a complaint he wouldn't voice.

Loudly.

Amenadiel's calm, quiet nature is almost like an oasis in comparison. So, while most of the others work, she and Amenadiel fall easily into a Charlie-based rhythm. He's up first because sleep for her is elusive and when it happens a groggy-inducing, prescription drug sponsored mess. But around eleven a.m. she finally gets up, grabs some coffee, and relieves Amenadiel of angel baby duty. After all, she started out as Charlie's, uh, science tutor. While now Linda's insistence at the time on Charlie being truly special makes sense and isn't just the preening opinion of a Beverly Hills helicopter mom, Charlie's still pretty normal.

It's not a bad thing, not at all. But she's been around a lot of her primas' babies over the years, her little second and third cousins, and Charlie's developmentally just like them. Oh, he's happy and engaged and bright, but he's not a super genius or talking or has wings. She checks sometimes, partly cause once in a while Amenadiel will look at her like a hopeful puppy after science time is over and just ask if maybe, and partly because she's genuinely curious if this one time, the Big Guy called it wrong.

But it is easiest with Charlie, and that's obviously a huge part due to the fact he doesn't talk. But Ella can handle that. After science time (and it's mostly her making gak or other things and then keeping Charlie from eating it), she and Amenadiel take him to the park (she keeps him from eating sand or worse there), and home to help plan dinner for everyone. It's easy.

Contemplative.

Ella doesn't ask about anything angelic, and Amenadiel doesn't offer. Mostly they talk about Charlie or make conversation with the other caregivers at the park. Ella's pretty sure they just assume she's the nanny, and that's okay. She's not sure what she's going to be going forward, but forensic tech is out because Pete isn't a factor, but if a case ever got her that compromised again…

She can't.

And her vigilante days are probably over, though that was the only thing that helped her sleep well. The medication Linda has her on gets the job done, but she hasn't slept well since…well she knows when, and obviously neither beating the shit out of assholes at bars or, well, him are going to be a factor in her life anymore.

So, hands-on-deck for Charlie so far works. She'll think of something eventually, maybe get a job at that coffee shop by the precinct she likes. Having that much easy access to rainbow sprinkles and whipped cream has to have an upside. Who could really say no to all the mochasplosions they can eat?

But Amenadiel doesn't ever start in on theology talk, and she appreciates that. She's been a novitiate, a fangirl for the Big Guy and probaby still is, and quizzed the former Sword of God endlessly on the Bible. She doesn't need to know anymore; she knows too much.

So, it surprises her as they settle down to dinner just the three of them one night when Eve and Maze are tied up at the precinct dropping off a bounty and poor Linda has to manage a 5150 for a patient of hers, a still pretty young pop star who almost OD'ed, that Amenadiel starts into a serious conversation.

"Ella, you've been here a month."

"I can move out," she offers quickly, even as she watches Amenadiel hand Charlie his bottle. "Is that what this is about? I have money saved on the road, and Craigslist always works. I just…I get it if I'm taking up too much space."

He frowns thoughtfully. "No, that's not what I was getting at. Actually, Linda and I had been talking about her pool house out back. It's renovated, and if you wanted even more space and a little more privacy while you figure everything out, you can have it."

She forces herself to smile. Seriously, she really should have gone to med school. Yeesh. Then again, most docs don't end up the Beverly Hill shrink on call. "That might be good."

And truly it is because more space is helpful but she's not ready to leave, even if she's not one hundred percent ready to talk yet either.

"But you can stay here as long as you need. Linda and I would like it that way, and I think Charlie really likes his favorite science tutor."

"I'm his only one."

"True, but I'm sure you're the best."

She chuckles and bites into her lasagna. "I do make the most messes."

He laughs as well. "I clean the kitchen after experiment time, so I know." He sighs and sets his utensils down. "You could go by Lux if you wanted. Luci misses you."

She nods and she kind of knows that too. Even if Lucifer had lots of something going on while she was on the road, her inbox and her phone are filled with four types of messages: emoji puzzles from Lucifer, travelog pics from Trixie while she and Decker are visiting one of Penelope's film sets in Hungary for the summer, Decker's own continued "do you need anything," inquiries and, rarest of all thank whoever, calls from her Mami asking when Ella is visiting next and also, of course, when will she get nietos out of her. But she would do anything else, even chew her own arm off, before going to the precinct, before being near the interrogation room where she's still terrified Pete read her like an open book.

Lux shouldn't be hard to stop by but seeing Lucifer…now that she knows, Ella's kind of afraid it'll be hard to look at Lucifer and not, despite everything, see Michael too. She's not sure she's ready for that either.

"I know. I…soon, I hope."

He nods and settles his hands on the table. "Do you know what you might want to do now? Charlie loves having you around."

As if to reinforce the point, the baby coos next to her.

"I think he just mostly like homemade Play-dough and time with Pepe."

Amenadiel almost doesn't grimace when thinking about the chinchilla. Almost. "Yes, well he's certainly colorful."

"Literally."

"But you have so much to offer the world, Ella. It would be a shame for you to hide that all away here. I mean, you used to love science so much. Maybe there's just a regular lab or research of other types you can work in."

She shrugs. "Maybe, but do you feel you're wasting time here with Charlie as the stay at home parent?"

"Never."

"Then, I dunno. I've been on the road a lot and before that I just…you know why I needed a break. This isn't so bad, like a holding pattern."

"True, but you just don't want a rest to become like getting caught in quicksand either," he adds, picking up Charlie's bottle when it slips from his hands and resettling it in place.

"I'm not exactly." She sighs and looks down at her lap. "I don't know what I want to do anymore. I've tried a lot of things. Honestly, Amenadiel, sometimes less than legal ways to make money between gambling and street racing."

"Like in all those terrible movies Maze loves?"

"Fast and Furious or Weaponizer?"

"Maybe all of the above," he says. Then, he smiles at Charlie. "We're not big on screen time. I think it might have at least rotted Luci's brain some."

She laughs. "Yeah, the Bones thing. Agree sometimes there's too much TV, totally. And I've done different legal things—helped my mami and abuela with house cleaning as a kid, barista to help put my way a little through college, and of course CSI." She blushes a little, considering she's talking to a real, live angel. "Novitiate once."

He blinks at her and frowns. "I didn't know that. I think you mentioned you had an aunt who was a nun but—"

"Tia Rosalita, yeah. She inspired me to try it after high school, but I wasn't so great at cutting myself off from the world. The cloistering and me didn't mezcla all that much."

He nods, and she's sure he's a bit too kind and forthright to read into that what Michael had pegged quickly. That, well, honestly she hadn't quite made the celibacy cut. "There are many ways to serve my Father. I think what you used to do, putting murderers away, was a great thing. But there are so many ways to be Called, and I think I learn that the longer I stay here and the more I see humans help each other on earth."

"Yeah, we just overflow with that whole milk of human kindness thing, right?" she replies bitterly, thinking only of Pete.

"I think most of you do or you try to. I used to be cynical about humans, more removed than I should have been, but I get why Father loves you all so much. I do." He regards her kindly. "But I mean it, Ella. You have too much light in you to hide it away from the world for long. I'm sure you're familiar with the parable of the talents and—"

"Notiviate, yeah, got it." She bites back a bit more forcefully than she meant to. "You think I have good things in me, but I've done some really crappy things, especially on the road."

"Yes and Michael was clearly influencing you."

She shakes her head and is proud of herself for not actually crying. Probably has less to do with her strength and more to do with being physically out of tears. "No, I chose to do vigilante crap before I ever left L.A. I left here because I couldn't keep doing all that before Maze or Decker figured me out. Maybe both at once. Michael…he made me better at it, made it safer for me to do, but I was already doing it. So, yeah, pretty sure your dad? Not a huge fan of beating the shit out of assholes just cause you can trick em."

"Well, Father used to have an Old Testament sentiment about him and eye-for-an-eye justice but since the newer covenant, no."

"Exactly so if you think that I'm not a bad person or full of light or whatever…I think you're wrong."

He quirks his head at her patiently, and he's hard to ruffle. Yup, she really wonders how he's related to the twins at all. Patience is not a virtue, not really, for either Michael or Lucifer, just in very different ways. "I admit, one thing about you confuses me now."

"Oh, I'm sure there's a laundry list."

"No, it's…I didn't actually realize this myself until that case at the convent earlier this year, but part of my powers include reflecting the love someone pious feels for Father back at them. It's a little like what Luci does with desire, but only if you're really religious."

She arches an eyebrow at him. "You've been here like five years. This only started with a convent visit?"

He shrugs. "It's L.A."

Chuckles escape her, despite herself. As a transplant from Michigan, Ella does have to admit it took her way longer than she planned on to find a faith community for herself. If Amenadiel mostly kept to the 90210, fancy rich people play groups, and Lux, yeah…she could definitely see how it had taken him a while to find someone less New Age or flat out atheist and more faithful.

"True, but there's a lot of faith all over. I had a great church before…well before things fell apart." She shrugs back. "I dunno. You don't affect me. I mean, you stop time right?"

"Yeah."

"Sure that probably would if you like magicked it up or whatever."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Okay, sure, angel-ed it up. But Luci never made me really wanna bang him and that's a pretty default reaction for most newbies at the precinct with him. I mean, before he and Decker really sealed the deal, it was like kind of this open secret thing—you started at the precinct, got your locker, your office key, and usually the offer for a night with the nightclub owner consultant."

Amenadiel sighs and shakes his head toward Charlie. "We don't do that here, do we, Charlie?"

Ella laughs a little. "I'm sure Charlie will grow up to be a perfect little gentleman. But yeah, Lucifer doesn't…I never really thought of going to pound town with him. And I guess the whole faith thing you can do with nuns and stuff…not on me either. But divine stuff doesn't really faze me and that was even when I first saw what Michael can…could do, minus the wings of course." She rubs her temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Probably Rae Rae's fault."

His jaw drops. "You know Azrael?"

"Um, yeah, since I was eight. She popped in at a car accident I had when I didn't die and kept visiting ever since. I was way messed up long before I met like 3 other angels, thanks." She frowns and considers Charlie. "Or more like two more angels, a devil, and a half angel, whichever."

"She's not supposed to just do that."

"Yeah, no shit. Doesn't go that great for the human. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm sane…mostly, but it was touch and go getting my parents to believe that when I was in high school. But, I dunno, most of your powers don't work quite right on me, I guess."

"But fear is very strong. I'm sure that my brother—"

She shakes her head. "No, he never did that to me. Not on purpose."

"What does that even mean?"

"He can't…couldn't control his powers right without his wings. The only time I got Feared or whatever, I touched him when he was having issues."

"That explains that then."

She frowns. "What?"

"He tried to get his wings out to fight Lucifer at Lux when I brought him at first. I mean, Lucifer got angry first but Michael couldn't and he looked so sick, almost convulsed. Then he…he used his powers on me, and he's always been able to but it was almost overwhelming, like falling down a well. I'd never felt them that strong before."

Ella swallows hard. She was about to ask if Michael was okay, but of course he wasn't. Whether Lucifer kicked the crap out of him in L.A. or not is pretty moot when he's been in Hell by now over a month and all of Maze's brothers and sisters and maybe Maze, herself, have had time to work him over. Of course, he's not okay.

That's the whole point of freaking Hell.

"Yeah, so he never once tried to use that on me. Not at all. He probably only did it to you out of instinct. When it hurts that bad, he can't think very well."

She stops short of saying how desperate he gets, but that's not for Amenadiel to know.

"You think that. But Michael's very good with his power, even if he's not having flare ups with it. I'm sure a lot of what you did over the trip, the people you hurt…he probably gave you that push."

She stands quickly and takes her plate as well as Charlie's empty bottle to the sink. Yeah, she's upset but she's not maleducada on top of that; Ella can bus her shit at least. "He didn't. That's not him at all. Not the way he was with me. He tried to talk me out of the…the hunting for a while, and then put rules and training in place to keep me safe." She sighs and looks back to Amenadiel. "You have it so wrong, and that's why I think you're wrong too about my light. It's just not there. Michael wasn't forcing me to do anything…if anything, he was holding me back."

"What?"

"He always pulled me back, no matter how mad I'd get, because he was worried I'd do something I couldn't live with after." She swallows hard even as bile works its way up her throat, even as she can still feel Pete's ribs cracking under her kicks. "I think I'd have really killed Pete if Michael hadn't stopped me. He said—Michael I mean—that he couldn't stand to see me go to Hell, and that I'd feel guilty eventually if I did it. So no, Amenadiel, as fu…messed up," she hesitates, glancing over to Charlie. "...as tainted as everything was between us, Michael wasn't the bad influence on the whole Bonnie and Clyde thing we had going. I was."

He stands then and tries to hug her. "Ella, I'm sure that's not true. Michael's always made trouble and—"

She brushes past him and to the stairs. Yeah, maybe the pool house option would be better…all that space. "No, I…the one thing in all of this that Michael got right that none of you have yet is that he saw me. And I'm not always this bubbly, nice nerd. I wish I were, but there's a lot of really broken, bad parts of me, and I don't think I can get better if all of you still expect me to be who I was before Pete." She turns and faces him at the top of the steps by the kitchen. "Cause that Ella? She's gone, and I'm not sure she was ever real anyway."

He looks especially miserable curled up in the bed, a hot water bottle over his abdomen and a heating pad across his lower back. Ella's curled up around him, the big spoon to his (okay long and gangly but still…) little spoon. She settles against his shoulder and kisses his right cheek. Sometimes, some small child-like part of her wishes she could kiss it away. The scar. Not because she cares about it but because Michael clearly does, and because it's shitty the Devil put it there.

He didn't deserve that, just like he didn't deserve for his dad to take his wings or to change him, to leave him so confused and pained.

"Okay, so this should start turning the corner, you know?" She says calmly. "Day three is better than the first two, and the cramps should start really getting better. I mean, unless angels uh well hopefully this just lasts as long as it does for humans. Not like any of your sisters would be a baseline, you know."

"So aware of that, Scraps," he says dryly. "Just me. I get to be lucky. You know, I hate I told you so's, but give Rae Rae a publisher's clearing house check. She was right. I really should not have fucked with Samael because, even now, of course he's Dad's favorite so now I'm shit out of luck."

She holds him a little tighter and kisses his scar once more. It's probably a testament to how much pain Michael is in that he doesn't rebuff that. "You're not."

"Oh, I really am."

"Michael, this will…you'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it. I want to get to Atlanta and see if there's something I can do to get my life back. Besides, what is even the fucking point of…of this?" He stammers over his words a bit. "My sisters can't do this, so why me?"

"Well, no one else can Create stuff but you, right?"

"Just raw matter."

"And Pepe!"

"Yeah, well, Lopez, the ability to make one misfit rat really doesn't also mean I should be on the rag, does it?"

She sighs. "Okay, so I am really starting to see that whole point guys make about being aware of PMS."

"I'm taking this like a champ."

"Yeah because you know you're super not cranky the other like three weeks of the month."

"I'm a perfect angel," he huffs.

"You are," she admits.

Michael laughs. "That was a joke."

"Well, it's still true. I don't know what else your dad is gonna pull or how much more it's gonna hurt, corazon, but I'm not going anywhere." She hugs him tighter, mindful to keep her embrace north of the water bottle still pressed to his belly. "In fact, just let me at Him. He deserves a big piece of my mind."

"Easy there, Scrappy Doo. I'm pretty sure Dad has a way bigger weight class than you do." He sighs and reaches to pinch the side of her hip. "Besides, you should go."

"Well, I can get a separate room again if you're feeling really crummy and want the space. Sometimes, I just feel super gross on mine and I get it."

"Yes, the sentence I was waiting to hear from my girlfriend. Compare our menstrual problems. Yeah, actually, maybe I'll let you loose on Dad someday anyway." Michael turns, letting his various medical remedies reshuffle around him as he does, and holds her closer. "I meant you shouldn't stay, Ella. You don't have to get lashed to a broken down, wannabe angel."

"You are an angel…just you know…less wings for now."

He closes his eyes and settles his forehead against hers, breathing slowly, steadily for a while, and she's pretty sure he's summoning his thoughts. She gets it. She never thinks that great with cramps either. "All of me is falling apart, Scrappy, and I just…you need to go home."

"I'm not going to Detroit—"

"Los Angeles, and you knew I meant that. Your friends Maze and Eve want you back home. You probably really miss all your friends and your job, and you can't possibly miss living out of a car and from motel to motel with a monster."

She shakes her head and sets her hands on either side of his face, her fingers taking extra time to trace over his right-side scar. "Abre los ojos. Michael, look at me."

He does, but it takes a while, and how anyone could have ever looked into such large, vulnerable brown eyes and thrown him away, she will never understand. Not how his family tossed him aside or Lily before her, who she's only heard about in bits and pieces, but fuck her too come to think of it. "You need to go. You deserve everything, the best, and I can't give you much of anything. I'm not sure from one day to the next what the fuck else my father is going to pile on me. Please, I don't have the strength to keep begging you. I'm about the least noble of the Host, despite my PR. I…I would understand if I woke up tomorrow and you were gone. I…maybe Lilith was just smarter than I realized."

"Nope, mister, I do not believe that for a second. Mother of Demons, right? So, pretty damn sure she and I have less than zero in common, and her…leaving you was her mistake, not mine."

He sighs and kisses her, and it's long and lingering. Ella wants to shout at him, but that wouldn't be fair as sick as he's feeling right now, as demoralized. He's spinning out, and in a few days when this is past them for the month, he'll feel better. Lash out less. She knows that now. But he won't get her to leave. She promised when they started on this trip, and she's here to see it all through. Him and her and even Pepe with a life in Atlantic City. They just have to see the warlock along the way, get him stabilized, and…okay so her life sounds a lot like The Wizard of Oz lately, but she won't leave.

"I'd understand. It's better if you do."

"Do you want me to go?"

"I said it's better for you if you leave," he corrects.

She laughs a little, choking up on her frustration. "You really are the Devil's twin, huh? All that not saying exactly what you mean sounds like fine-print devil deal stuff to me."

His expression turns stony. "I'm nothing like Sam, not at all."

"Maybe, but I asked you what you wanted, not what I should do. They're different questions, corazón." She reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, chuckling at the eternal rats nest of curls up there. "What do you want, Michael?"

He kisses her again and then settles his cheek against her breasts. "I want to be here, like this, for the rest of my life and not just yours. Not that we get that option, but I…I want you with me. I mean, you're the one who says I grind the car's gears and shouldn't drive it at all. I might be lost without you, Lopez."

"Baby is a piece of art and true, you'd both be lost without me." She holds him tightly to her. "Just get some sleep, angel. In the morning, you'll feel better." Ella leans down to kiss his temple. "And I will still be here."

"That a threat?" he asks, sighing a little before yawning.

"It's a promise, corazon. Te lo juro."

"I'm still not buying that dictionary."

"Well, grandpa, good thing you can google languages for free." She pokes his ribs, still not sure how she wound up with God's crankiest but also cheapest angel but eternally grateful she has.

"I love free."

"Yeah, I know, and heads' up, when we check out, you can't steal the towels and bathrobe and glasses this time."

"But Scraps…"

She wakes up and has no idea what time it is, just dark and late. Sighing, Ella pushes the memory from her mind and turns on the TV to low volume. Maybe the utter what the fuckery of the original FMA will take her mind off her own pain. Usually, that one episode with the dog will get anyone's brain to scramble so it's worth a try. Standing, she grabs Pepe out of the cage and holds him tight to her as the theme song starts up and the lights flicker throughout the room, casting her chinchilla in an even more surreal glow than his fur.

"Do you think we should have left then, Pepe?"

He looks up at her and three ears wiggle out of sync. God, he's a mess.

So is she.