Azrael: "She got feisty, didn't she?"
Mary: "She's always been a fighter, I guess she's finally realizing that. Now let's stop this nonsense and be honest with one another."
Azrael: "Damn, straight to the point."

Mary: "So do we play a game? Best of 3, winner take all? Is that what the arcade game over there is for?"
Azrael: "What? No, that's for when I have downtime. There aren't any games, Mary. It's still a matter of a soul for a soul."

Mary went white as a young girl appeared in the office with them. She was no longer clothed in the hospital gown Mary had last seen her in, her skin no longer pallid and waxy.

Mary: "What is this?"
Azrael: "The choice is yours."
Mary: "Choice? What the hell are you talking about?"
Azrael: "Her soul for your soul."

Mary looked down at the girl and felt what Tristan would say couldn't possibly be her stomach twisting up in knots.

Mary: "That's utter crap and you know it. It's not like I'd be a match to her organs anyway, so she's going to die whether I go back or not."
Azrael: "You don't know that. Things happen."
Mary: "Right, by amazing coincidence Emily and I are both interchangeable, compatible donors. That should come in handy the next time one of us goes into a diabetic coma and needs a new kidney."

Azrael: "Don't be absurd, neither of you is diabetic. Though one or both of you may need some new parts after all the suicide fun. Did it ever occur to you that while you may very well live, you might not live very well after this? There's a reason why people don't tend to come back from the dead very often. Some very fundamental changes take place in a body when a person dies. Like a wool sweater that's been run through the dryer--it's hard to fit back into."
Mary: "So I'll stretch it."
Azrael: "Just to be clear-you want to go back? You've made your choice?"

Mary looked back down at the girl whose life had barely even started yet and felt a pang of sadness mixed with guilt. She tried to remember what it had been like to be so young, what she had done, what she had dreamed. The world had been huge and unexplored, her life blank pages waiting to be filled. Waiting to find a purpose, waiting to find love and even waiting for that first broken heart so she could move on to the real thing.

Mary realized that she'd tried to find all of those things, and failed. The world had become an empty, disappointing place, and she'd stopped trying, looking, waiting. The only thing that kept her occupied these days was the fight to keep people away. She fought to keep Emily away from Stone. She fought to keep Chris away. She'd failed miserably at both. She fought to keep James away, and had probably succeeded at that. The one place in the Underworld where she'd been happiest was the place where there was no one else, only the ghosts of joy and peace. Suddenly the thought of going back there made something inside her twist and change direction. She blinked, disoriented, and turned to find Azrael behind her.

Mary: "We make our own hell, don't we? Even as we think we're making heaven."

Azrael shrugged and waved a hand in the air.

Azrael: "That's the way you people are. Everything is heaven until it's too close or too far. It's extremely aggravating. Did you know that the consistency of the human brain is similar to pudding? I think that's the problem. People are always trying to do the right thing, no matter how asininely wrong it is."
Mary: "I'm not… ready to go just yet. I want to see how things play out, I want to see how it all ends."
Azrael: "In a way you already have. As far as the world is concerned, the story of Marion Josephine McMally has come to a rather abrupt end."

Mary: "My friends' stories aren't over, and hell mine hardly had a chance to start. I've been so wrapped up in Emily's life that I forgot I had one of my own. That wasn't really fair to either one of us."
Azrael: "It's not my place to say. I'm just a collector. What about her life, though? She's not even had seventeen years. Are you really willing to trade in her future for yourself?"

Mary: "Are you trying to make this more difficult than it already is?"
Azrael: "Marion, if I'm going to put you back into the game, I need to know you'll be in the game."
Mary: "And my guilt is supposed to make me a better person? Make me live each day to the fullest, Fishes Diem or whatever?"

Azrael: "I don't care what kind of person you are, and believe me, if I really wanted to make you feel guilty, I'd just tell you that Amanda here would've rejected Emily's organs anyway so you're really the only chance she has at a savior. Oops, I guess I let that slip after all. But is there a method to my madness? Maybe, maybe not. All things in time."
Mary: "Asshole."
Azrael: "Make your choice. I have another appointment to keep."

Mary looked the girl in the eyes, searching for an answer.

Mary: "She's the only chance I have at a savior. Interesting that you're giving the choice to me and not her. Kind of makes me think that she'd be down here no matter what. So, Regis, I choose life. I want to go home."
Azrael: "Whatever you have to do to convince yourself. As far as I'm concerned, a soul's a soul. Consider it done."

Mary: "What? Really? Just like that?"
Azrael: "Yes, really. I'm just doing a job, Mary. I'm not the bad guy; I'm not out to get you personally. Not yet, anyway."

Mary: "I guess it makes an odd sort of sense."
Azrael: "Any reason why you're still hanging around? You've got some living to do and I can promise you that won't happen if you're standing in my office."
Mary: "Right. Sorry. And… thank you."
Azrael: "No bitching when it's your turn for real, you got that? You people make me tired."
Mary: "Not thank you, thank her."