Chapter Two

Michael wasn't sure exactly all that had befallen him. He'd been somewhere before the dumpster with the beasts. And he was pretty sure it wasn't the Crusades, though he could swear that was all he remembered. When he tried to recall what the actual last thing he'd done before he'd found himself shivering in a corner of that pit of both despair and delicious smells…he couldn't remember. But it was something, and surely he hadn't really lost a thousand years of time.

He'd lived them, and those memories had to be somewhere.

He would find them. That was all there was to it. This kind Lady Ella he'd met would help him get patched up, and then she'd direct him to the nearest church, and he'd just have a good talk with a priest. See what the state of things were, after all he was their superior, both literally and in the heavenly hierarchy. Surely a father somewhere would be happy to help him and offer him succor.

The kind woman held him tightly as she slipped into the metal box thing. Then she touched something magical maybe and the doors shut in front of her. Shortly after, the box started moving! Michael startled from his half-slumbering state and looked up at Lady Ella.

"You didn't say you were a sorceress!"

She laughed and it should not have bothered him, but he did feel his tail droop at that. "Dude, I'm not."

"I'm not 'dude.' I'm Michael."

"All right sure, but…this is an elevator. It's not magical, it just has electricity."

"Oh, yes, like lightning like Thor."

She blinked at him. A lot. "He's real too?"

"All pantheons are," Michael said. "Father is just preeminent so we serve Him and we make sure the other lesser gods and godesses stay in line. So, yes, electricity like lightning but you've harnessed it for the moving box."

"I didn't. The construction company did and now the power company makes us all pay utilities to run it. I…yeah so catching you up on a millennium is gonna be a lot, huh?"

"You did not make this box?"

"Nope, but I swear at it when it gets stuck on the third floor."

"So you cannot harness electricity?" he asked, his whiskers twitching as he spoke. They were odd at first, but he'd found them useful enough sources of information about the space around him.

"Dude, no. I…well I can do science, I guess, not that people say it that way. I work in a lab and do lots of tests with machines and chemicals. They tell me tons about how someone got murdered and sometimes I figure out who did it."

He nodded as the electric box dinged and the doors slid open. Lady Ella carried him down a hallway and then set him on the floor by a door.

"You are a constable?"

She shook her head, fished something from her pants pockets, and soon she was turning her key (he thought it was, it had an awful lot of other things hanging from it, bright and shiny and some fuzzy) in her door. After that, Lady Ella stepped into her abode and waved in.

"No, I'm a forensic tech. We'll watch the ID Channel or Netflix crime docs later. Now, come on in, Sir Michael."

"Yes, well, you seem to be resourceful," he admitted.

Since he was at least near a human again, Michael tried to stand more bipedally and walk that way. He could, technically, in short bursts make that work, but he stumbled a bit, tired and dizzy from his fight with the evil beast below and fell to his front paws as well. He winced at his bad right side, which seemed to hurt more in this form, and limped on all his legs over the threshold.

"Aww, you really are a mess, Iz…sorry, Mike."

"You came to watch us a lot," he replied. "Many humans dropped by with offerings for us, but you came every day and watched. You seemed nice then too."

Ella shrugged. "There were like seven of you and cute and fuzzy and it was interesting. I should have taken you in earlier, but I didn't know you were uh an angel and also not gonna bite me."

He stood again and bowed. "I would never. It wouldn't be like a true knight."

"Right."

"And I am not just any angel. I am the Great Judge and the Sword of God and the Angel of Fear and—"

"Right, yeah, you have a lot of titles."

"All are well earned!" he said, then turned his attention to the giant seat before him. It was not like the long benches at the taverns. It had far more in common with the sumptuous fabrics of a castle and the sedans there. "You must be rich to afford such silks."

"It's a sofa and it's made of pleather, genius." Ella patted the surface. "Get settled though. I have to get the supplies and, uh, sew your ear back on. You're gonna hate that part."

He rolled his shoulders, sprouting his wings. While they were too tiny to reflect the full splendor of an angel at least this way his right seemed normal. It was no longer twisted or with gnarled feathers, and Michael was glad for that much. Why this form should not have also fixed his ailing right side, he did not know, but some reprieve for his wings was better than none at all. With a few great flaps, he landed himself on this so-called sofa and settled on it.

"Oh that is rather comfy."

"Yeah, you probably could have climbed that."

"Wings were expedient."

She shook her head and hurried down the hall. "This is the strangest hallucination. Be back! Don't touch anything."

"I am a knight of my word," he huffed.

He might look like a small mongrel, but he wasn't. Instead, Michael settled onto the cushion of the sofa and then frowned at the discomfort he found coming from his left hip. Scooting over, he found a small, black object had wedged itself between the cushions. Curious and hopeful it might be food, Michael picked it up and shoved it in his mouth. A bite confirmed it was not food, but had a sterile taste to it. He gave it one more bite for good measure and then the giant box in front of him came blaring to life and the sounds it made seemed to surround the room, coming from every angle.

An attack!

Thinking quickly, Michael hopped up and grabbed the nearest pillow. He held it over his head, lamenting the lack of a good sword around, and brandished it at the loud box. It was now glowing and people were trapped inside talking at each other.

"Lady Ella! You have lied to me. You are a sorceress and you have trapped people in this box!"

It made another loud noise and Michael threw the pillow as hard as he could against the evil, enchanted box. It swayed but did not yet topple. Michael turned around and scurried for another pillow to launch at the monstrosity.

He had one in his paws when the Lady Ella returned and the noise was suddenly gone. She poked him in his left shoulder and said, "Dude, what are you doing to my TV?"

Michael whirled around and shook his head. "You have bewitched me, foul sorceress! I asked if you had magic and clearly you do. You stuck humans who you did not agree with in that box to talk for your amusement."

His tail was very poofed up but so was the rest of his fur not matted to his face.

The Liar Ella set the giant, white box she'd been carrying down and held up her hands. "Okay, Michael. Ground rules. I am not a sorceress and I don't have any magic. I am talking to a raccoon, but I'm pretty sure I'm just crazy right now. Second, that's a television, it's technology too. Everyone has it. Even my phone can do that. You know everyone's phones basically can, so you can watch the morning news on the toilet or whatever."

Michael blinked at her. "Why would one watch people talk on the privy?"

"I dunno. I prefer Wobble dance vids myself but you know what, chill out!" She pointed to the TV even as she picked up her pillow. "You have to think of this differently. I'm sorry you last remember the Dark Ages but we had a Renaissance and an Enlightenment and like an Industrial Revolution and now sooo much tech. Trust me. If you think something is 'magic,' then it's a computer, k?"

"But the people—"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "They're not there. They're actors from a show made somewhere in Culver City and then beamed out by satellites for me to watch whenever I wanna netflix and chill."

He growled a little under his breath but sat back on the sofa. "I do not know most of those words."

The Lady—still possibly Witch—Ella sighed and sat down next to him. She was much taller now that he was sitting next to her than he realized. That or he was far smaller than he'd assumed. It had been hard to gauge trapped amongst the other beasts. Hesitantly, she reached out and patted his closest wing. Despite his confusion at, well, everything, Michael let her do it.

It felt surprisingly nice.

"Michael—"

"Angel of Fear, Defender of Heaven, Patron Saint of Warriors, The Dark Bringer—"

"Uh, right. You keep mentioning the fear one. I missed that in novitiate training."

He perked up at that. It made sense now. If Lady Ella was not a sorceress but a woman of faith, then of course she'd help and be drawn to a wayward angel, even if he was nothing like his former glory currently.

"You are a nun?"

"Gosh no, I…I wanted to be, but I didn't really fit living in a nunnery all cloistered." Her face grew flushed and Michael's wings fluttered.

"Why? Did you realize you did not love my Father?"

"Oh, the Big Guy is pretty great, even if he sent me a raccoon angel."

"Archangel, a gallant knight really."

"Who attacks my tv with pillows."

"I have no weapon. May I have a sword, perhaps?"

"No."

"I am an expert in all forms of combat."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "My apartment isn't that big, and who would you sword fight? Margaret?"

"Is she the witch?"

"Witches aren't real! Anyway, of course not. She's my bath tub chicken."

He blinked. Humans had changed very much in a thousand years if they bathed with chickens instead of eating them. "Are you not going to eat her for nourishment someday?"

She shook her head, eyes wide. "I spent a year teaching her 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' on the keyboard. No way! I'm gonna get her to do 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' next. We're buds. I'd probably eat you first."

"I would not advise it. I am certain Father would frown on eating His Sword."

"You aren't good at jokes yet, huh?"

"I think I'm funny."

The Lady Ella chuckled and finished patting his wing. "Sometimes, but I don't think you mean to be."

"But you are not a Sister?"

"I do have actual brother, four crazy pendejos to keep up with, but no. I love the Big Guy but I…it was too hard to be a nun. I got lonely and uh missed things."

"What things?"

"Um…"

He nodded, understanding. "I get it. You missed the delights of the flesh. I do not understand why human clerics deny it. I met many a fine bar wench on my travels. Truth be told, a few toothsome men as well."

The Lady Ella gaped at him. "Whoa."

"Yes, we angels do not fornicate with each other as we are siblings…though I would not put anything past Gabriel and his appetites, truth be told. But with other deities and mortals, we can be curious. As long as we do not settle, Father cares little either way. Perhaps you were not meant to be a nun because you, too, delight in many things."

The Lady Ella's complexion seemed to turn a bit purple before she coughed a lot. Then, she picked up the metal box and pulled out many things. He watched as she put on gauntlets of the strangest, thinnest material and then threaded a needle with thick, dark thread.

"Nevermind, Michael. Let's stick to getting you cleaned up. I…I am gonna have to clean your ear and sew it back on. King Kong left it hanging by a few threads."

Unbidden, he reached up to where his right ear assuredly hung too low. "He was very uncouth."

Ella laughed. "You really are the oddest person I've ever met and I thought Rae Rae was weird."

"Oh! I have a sister named Rae Rae, well, Azrael. She's the Angel of Death. Do you know her too? She's as tall as you and has short hair, cut a bit like a bowl shape, and loves fish decorations on her robes. She tends to say the oddest things like 'smell you later?'"

Ella sighed and stood. She busied herself in the scullery part of the abode or so he assumed as it had the sink and at least he knew what water and bowls still seemed to look like. Even if the water came out, again all that magic that wasn't, instead of having to be gathered. "Let's get you washed up my own private hallucination, then I'll sew. I don't think it's a good idea to give you painkillers. I do have some baby Benadryl though. I used it on Margaret when we had to fly home to Detroit for Christmas."

"You can fly!"

"In a plane. We are hitting so much wikipedia and Wobbletube after this. I am gonna catch you up on the last thousand years, starting with social media buddy."

He nodded as she sat down next to him. Ella took a white towel and dipped it into the bowl. Then, she pressed it against his ear. Michael hissed at that but relaxed. He'd had many worse injuries in his life, and it was comforting that the water—though not boiled—was warm to the touch.

"What is social media?"

"An online life sharing time suck but with cats."

"Cats are okay," he said. "Some let me sleep next to them in the alleyway. That was warmer than in the dumpster alone."

Lady Ella nodded and her eyes seemed a little shiny. "So you have a sister, Rae Rae, huh?"

"Of course I do."

"I must really have been tripping if after Pete I invented a talking angel raccoon brother for Rae Rae."

"Oh! So you do know each other."

"I think my visions just got more extensive after everything."

"I am real. I am the Demiurge. I helped make the universe with my twin Samael." He twitched his whiskers in thought and bore his teeth. "Though, since he fell most call him Lucifer or the Devil. We have not seen each other in years, even before I forgot so much…"

He stopped then. There was something though. Because for just a moment, he could see Samael in strange clothes, modern like on the TV, and they were fighting. Them and Amenadiel and that demon Mazikeen in a strange basement around many humans also in modern clothes. Then, as suddenly as it had passed before his eyes, the flash was gone, and Michael could no longer really recall it."

"Wait…you're twins with the Devil?"

"Is that not in the Bible? Just us, but I guess less now that he has been expelled and I am…fuzzy." He finished and made an unbecoming squeak as the compress caught on his fur. "Sorry, M'Lady, you caught me by surprise."

"I think you did for me too. I mean, I guess I never thought about it too hard but all the angels are brothers and sisters since God made you and stuff…but I didn't know that you and the Devil were like that close."

Michael nodded. "We're identical…or we are when I am not fluffy. Although, I do not think I am unpleasant this way. I am less wizened and gruff than many of those other beasts. Less mange too!"

She laughed. "Well, you're welcome to stay here even if I'm having a breakdown. And you can tell me more about Rae Rae, not a ghost, and Satan."

"I have many stories, especially about Samael. Mostly bad, but I can talk forever about him. I have been told I'm quite the raconteur."

She laughed. "Maybe when you're not so squeaky or why do you sound like you're from New York?"

He quirked his head at her, even as she set the rag down and reached for her threaded needle. "I do not know of this even newer York?"

"Dude, you are missing tons of time, and you definitely went to the Big Apple."

"I have seen no produce."

She shook her head and set a hand on his left shoulder. "Okay, I'm gonna sew you up now, so stay still and no biting me."

"On my word as His Sword, M'Lady."

"Great, good, I'll hold you too that. Can't afford to catch even angel rabies."

"You keep saying that."

"You're a raccoon."

"It's a set back."

Ella laughed and bit her lower lip. "Okay count of three. But don't worry, afterwards I'll get you a treat and, well, maybe take a pic of you for my Wobble daily vids. You'll make a cute patient, get sympathy likes."

"Will that help me heal?"

"No, but it'll be fun," she said. "Ready?"

"I am not a child. I have fought many monsters in battle and suffered many, grievous wounds. I am the Angel all others Fear…I ouch!" He squeaked even louder and despite his best efforts, puffed up his tail. "That was painful."

"I warned you. I'm not sure you're an immortal, unbreakable badass right now, Michael, especially not if other raccoons—"

"Archangel, Lady Ella."

"Okay raccoons in your dumpster which you are technically not one of…they kicked your butt. You might be, you know, pretty mortal right now. Ooh, let me teach you about cars first so you don't go on a walk with me and end up pavement pizza."

"What?"

"So much learning to do." Ella reached beside her and handed him a pillow, an odd one, shaped perhaps almost like a child's doll. Though this was a tiny, fluffy green alien who fit easily in his paws. "Have a Toy Story alien. Now when it hurts, just squeeze him extra hard."

"I am not afraid of anything."

"Didn't say you were, mapache, just that you need a focus. I used to volunteer with a veterinarian so I can do this, you just need to brace yourself for real. Deal, Michael?"

He was about to complain that there had to be an easier way to heal his poor, bedraggled ear, but then he looked up and into such wide, kind brown eyes, that Michael honestly forgot his complaints.

"I…of course, M'Lady."

"Great, now just hold on, Mike. I've got you."

He nodded, squeezing the strange little doll tightly, even as she worked to stitch him up. And, oddly, it was not the act of squeezing the strange alien that made him feel better despite the lack of anesthetic or draught for his ills. But the soft touch of Ella's hands and the look of determination in her eyes.

So far, his lady was no liar. For she definitely had him, now if only he knew what a pavement pizza was.