"You deserve only the best, my love," Michael said. "And I am hardly the best." Then he sighed, figuring that perhaps for once it was better to just be honest with Raphael than to try to soothe him. "No, I'm not sure I understand," he said, running a hand through his hair in an all too familiar manner. "I'm not sure I understand at all. You never were aggressive before, Raphael. You were the one who always wanted to forgive and forget no matter what. That was a part of what I first fell in love with in you," he admitted.

"Not that I don't still love you just as much, or more," he hastied to add. "It's just that... I don't understand you anymore, Raphael. You are... different. The Raphael I used to know would have never attacked anyone, would have never considered using a gun, would have never called Uriel annoying, even, although he often is. Something has changed in you -- perhaps it's because of this Manor, perhaps for other reasons, I don't know -- and I don't understand a thing."

With another sigh, he continued, "And now you are telling I should be careful, shouldn't trust, not even you. But if that is the case, then what can I do?" He grimaced a bit. "I'm not smart, Raphael, and I know that. Thinking and logic was never my strength. I take things as I see them; I can't figure out hidden meanings or masked truth. And now... I simply don't understand what is going on. Something is, I know that, but what? If it isn't something I can hit, I don't know what to do about it." He chuckled sadly. "See? I'm absolutely useless. Why you even stand me around is beyond me."