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WHO: Wrath, Michael and then George
WHAT: "So...help?"
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: Beach in Puerto Rico
WARNINGS: Wrath's mouth!

Since the Antichrist had tried to track her down by showing up at her place of work, Wrath was feeling a little lost. She was in Puerto Rico with someone she loved, but waiting back for her in New York was a powerful devilspawn who wanted to hurt her.

Wrath couldn't sleep, not even curled up beside George. Eventually she gave up and decided to take a moonlight walk on the beach. George was sleeping beside her and hi arm was flung over her. In an attempt not to wake him up, she slid out from under his arm carefully. She had only been wearing knickers in the bed, but she didn't exactly want to walk around on the beach like that, in case they arrested her. Somehow she located her jeans and a tank top and pulled them all on in the dark.

She padded barefoot out the sliding door and straight onto the beach. The moonlight was shining off the water so brightly it hurt Wrath's eyes. She made a beeline for the water and she sat at the edge of it, her toes dipping into the waves whenever the water crept up towards her.

Both George and Patrick had assured her that Michael would help to protect her, but Wrath wasn't convinced. Michael was the general of God's army and even though Wrath was connected to Heaven, she was still a Sin. She didn't believe Michael would piss on her if she was on fire. She was hard-wired with an instinct to distrust angels and she was fairly sure they didn't trust her either. Sure she had helped the Goody-Two-Shoes find his corpse, but to Wrath that didn't make a single bit of difference.

No matter how much she believed Michael wouldn't help her, it seemed important to George that she try. She had a feeling that if someone were to hurt Wrath again, George might just implode in a volcano of rage and go around punching people out. George had had to watch as Wrath was tortured and worse, and in the end the only reason she gave in was because she didn't want him to have to experience such a thing again.

Not entirely sure what she was doing, Wrath bowed her head and attempted to pray to Michael for help. She had really only concentrated on the fact that she needed to ask for help when she heard something behind her. Turning to see what the sound was, she took in the sight of Michael the archangel, wings and all. "Oh shit!' Wrath shrieked, and she fell backwards, scrambling towards the ocean.

Michael's wings disappeared and he held up his hands. "Wrath, I would advise you to stop crawling in that direction unless you want to drown."

Wrath stopped and she swallowed roughly. "D-don't get mad at me!"

"I'm not mad at you," Michael replied, looking confused. "Why would I be angry with you?"

She stood up out of the water because she felt like she might float away otherwise. Then she shrugged and looked at him worriedly. "Hi."

Michael took the opportunity to sit in the sand even though he was wearing a suit and for some reason that settled a few of Wrath's nerves. He patted the sand beside him and Wrath obediently when to sit there. "Hello, Wrath. So you're here with Saint George?"

Wrath chewed on her lip before finally answering. "Yeah."

"And how have you been since your siblings freed you from Lucifer."

"I dunno. Getting better?" Why was he even sitting with her. Didn't she disgust him? They lapsed into silence and with each second, the knot in Wrath's stomach grew bigger and bigger until she finally said, "your brother is a cock."

Michael snorted and he smiled over at her. "Well I can't deny that," he said with a nod. "Is there something you wanted to ask me, Wrath?"

It still wasn't a small thing to ask an angel for a favour, even when he was sitting here and actually smiling at her. Wrath ground her teeth together, thinking of how to phrase it and finally she decided explaining was the best way. "Joshua Fuckface is practically stalking me. He was there when George and me here captive at Lucifer's and he fucked me and made George watch."

Michael reached out to pat Wrath's shoulder and she was so shocked that she pulled away. "Sorry. Thought you were trying to kill me there," she breathed a second later.

"I have no desire to kill anyone, Wrath. Especially not anyone who helped my brothers and the saints find my body and bring me back. Thank you for that."

It was not often that Wrath blushed, and usually it was George who made her do it. At Michael's words, however, her cheeks coloured a deep red and she ducked her head. "Whatever. It was a dick move on Lucifer's part."

"I very much agree," Michael replied.

Wrath breathed out and she pulled her knees up to her chest so she could wrap her arms around them. "So, uhm...I don't really know what to do or say here because everything inside me is telling me I should stab you and run away. Or even just...run without the stabbing." She was not made to associate with angels. Saints were just humans, even if they did happen to be holy ones. Saints still felt sin. Angels were different. God felt wrath, but she was pretty sure angels didn't feel anything.

"I would advise against stabbing," Michael said and his voice left her wondering if it was advice or a threat. Perhaps it was both.

"George would be mad at me if I did," Wrath said easily. "He already went through a lot of shit for me, so no stabbing." She still hadn't gotten to the point though. And the thought of asking this angel for a favour was making her stomach tie itself in knots. "I'm afraid of you."

"That isn't an uncommon reaction," Michael said gently. "But as I said, I have no intention of hurting you. If I could take back what my brother and nephew did, I would."

"I just don't want it to happen again," she said, the words coming out in a rush. "I keep dreaming I never got out, or that they come to take me back and it's fucking terrifying. I don't want it to happen to me or to George."

"Of course you don't."

So far so not horrible. Wrath was still on edge because it could all be a ruse and Michael could just drown her in the ocean in an attempt to save his saint from her terrible influence. "I love him, okay? I actually fucking do."

The angel didn't really respond to that right away and Wrath was worried this was when his facade would drop. Then he said, "the care you feel for Saint George is demonstrated by going to Lucifer in an attempt to keep him safe."

"I'd do it again." She held her head high when she said that. She meant it. "But it would be way fucking easier if no one had to. And like I said, fucking Joshua is following me around..." she sort of trailed off, hoping Michael would fill in the blanks and she wouldn't have to ask for anything at all. He didn't however. But footsteps were approaching anyway and Wrath turned to see who was coming.

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"I want you to tell Wrath she can call for me as well," Michael said seriously. "I know she might find the concept strange, but I would like to keep her safe. Not just because she helped you all find me, nor because she is important to you. She is important to God too. If she calls, I will come for her." He raised his eyebrows at the confection George mentioned. "That sounds delicious. I'll try to find some. Are you really okay, Saint George?"

"I'll tell her," George promised. He shifted a little at Michael's question, rolling the shoulder that Lucifer had snapped out of socket. "I'll be okay, sir. I'm not great right now, but I'm getting better."

George tilted his head. "Remember when I was human, and you showed up in my cell after the first time they tortured me? You were very bright."

"I remember," Michael said with a nostalgic nod. "I didn't mean to semi-blind you. I do hope you're doing better now than you were then."

"No, it was very comforting," George said, smiling thoughtfully. "And I'm doing better, I promise. I'm on vacation and getting tan instead of locked in a cell. That's half the battle right there."

"And I am about to have arroz con dulce instead of rotting in the ground. I'd say we're both doing just fine," he said, patting George on the back.

George grinned at Michael. "Wise words, sir."

When Michael departed, blipping away as suddenly as he'd come, George headed back into the house, dusting the sand off his feet before he stepped inside. He didn't see any sign of his girlfriend.

"Wrath? Hey, Michael is gone. He said not to be scared to call on him again, if you want."

Wrath opened the closet door and she peeked out around it. "He's gone?" she whispered, glancing around. "What does he want me to call on him for?"

George ducked his head to hide his slight smile.

"Out of the closet with you," George said, holding out a hand to help her out. "And just if you get scared, or if Lucifer and Satan show up. Or if you want to give him cookies, that would make him happy."

Wrath took his hand and she moved to kiss George on the chest. "Yeah, I dunno if we're gonna be cookie buddies, but I guess...if the Hell duo fuck with me I could call him. I mean, if it would make you happy." Michael terrified her but she didn't want George to worry too much about her.

"So he's gone?" she asked, pulling her shirt off and then stepping out of her jeans. It was less to be alluring and more because it was hot and being dressed only in her underwear was cooler.

George was used to Wrath's somewhat unorthodox ideas about when the appropriate time to take her clothes off was, and so he just gave her a hug.

"It's so weird for me, when people are scared of Michael. Because for me, he's like the uber-protector. I forget it's not like that for everyone."

"And I guess I forget that he's not something to be feared by everyone," she said, snuggling into George's chest.

The visit from Michael made her think more about what Satan had said though. She didn't want to infect George with all of her anger, and if Michael was warding her home, then it was probably safe to go there. "I was thinking I should probably go home when we get back to the city?" She asked it more like a question because if he still wanted her with him, she would stay. Just as long as he didn't start showing signs of random rage.

"If you want to," George said, leaning his head against the top of Wrath's. He liked having her with him, but he knew that being around Sloth calmed Wrath down considerably, in a way that George just couldn't.

And in the back of his mind, he worried a bit at what non-stop exposure to Wrath might do to him and Patrick. Maybe even to the cat.

"Don't know if 'want to' is the right way to put it," she murmured against him. "Probably should though. But I'll miss you." She gave him a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, don't be gloomy," George said. "You can come visit all the time and stay the night when you want. And I'll visit you, if it won't make Sloth cranky."

Wrath chuckled and she looked up at George, resting her chin on his chest. "Sloth can deal," she said with a small smile. "I like visits. Visits good."