Uh-huh. Yeah. Kinda thought that’s what you were gonna say.

But see, that’s bullshit. You can’t ask for that from me. No, the guy you should be asking is “your” Jack. You know, the one who’s been “dealt with” apparently. He’s the one who did that shit to you.

If I was gonna give anyone an apology, it’d be my daughter, and you’re not her. I don’t owe you anything.

Educated guess, whatever. Like you even have enough to go off of to be proven incorrect. Only way that could’ve happened was if I didn’t resemble “a Jack” at all.

God, is that really how it goes around here? I’m “a Jack,” and you’re “an Angel,” like it’s what frigging species we are? That’s messed up. Everything about this is messed up.

No, what is “messed up” is what you did to me. What is “messed up” is responding to a natural need to shelter from that trauma with anger. If you were any different than your counterparts, you would at least make an attempt at an apology.

Oh. Yeah.

Whaaaat are you talking about??

Dealt with, huh.

I know your existence isn’t

Ugh.

Look. There’s a reason you hate me, right? Like, a thing. That I did. And that thing

What I’m saying is I don’t get how you’re still alive to hate me if I did that thing to you in your. whatever, your plane of existence, your universe. I mean…if your me did that thing to you.

Right?

You’re referring to my imprisonment and inevitable demise, correct? That still happened. I was, for all intents and purposes, dead. For several years, even.