Michael didn't quite know how to respond to George hugging him and smiling just seconds after he had vomited maggots. He patted the saint on the back and though he was beyond pleased to see his saints as well, he couldn't yet express that.
The last thing he remembered was feeling scared. Being in that place had taken all the divinity from him and left him a mortal man. He had experienced emotions he wasn't used to. He had been hurt and betrayed by his brother. He had feared for his life and then his life had been taken from him. The next thing he knew his body had had to reform itself. For him, the betrayal and the fear and the horror were still fresh and new, even though they had now passed over the border. He was now experiencing the emotions as an angel and he didn't know what to do with them. He wasn't used to feeling.
He let George help him up, quickly assisted by Patrick as well. "How long was I...dead?"
"Over a month," Patrick admitted quietly.
Michael breathed out and then he looked in the direction he could feel his brothers in, his eyes distant and sad. "Mm." He needed to eat something and he wanted very badly to take a shower. Instead of expressing that, he felt lost and said nothing.