docholligay:

SO HERE’S MY PASSOVER FIC.  I feel strange about it, it’s a little more close to the ribs than I usually do, which is why I’m publishing it in the middle of the night. I do want to hear if you like it. A lot of me went into it.

ANYWAY 3,500 ish words on Angela and Passover! And the past! and how it defines our future! And the confusing constant internal debate of every aspect of being Jewish! Fun times! Chag Samech Motherfuckers!

The Hebrews doubted that Moses could lead them to the promised land, and Mercy understood.

Wandering, wandering. So much of Mercy’s life, she felt, had been spent wandering. And wandering in pursuit of what? Not only was she unsure she was wandering to the promised land, she was unsure, anymore, that she would ever knew what that looked like. How to explain, to people who did not know, the long march of a people surviving where they weren’t meant to.

It had been years since she had a proper Seder.

She looked down the table at her expectant team, her team that had become family, that loved her so that they insisted upon helping her hold a Seder.

She had tried to offer up excuses.

“I am out of practice, it has been so long, I will be having the hardest time explaining it.”

“We will help you. I only want to learn what is important to you, and I know this is,” Pharah had comforted, “And you will teach us. It will be wonderful.”

“Besides,” Dva had quipped, “we’re not gonna know if it’s wrong anyway.”

“I like ‘earing about your ‘olidays, Ang. Always ‘ave, much more personal that way, and everyone’s always on about ‘ow we need to ‘ave a wide cultural knowledge, aren’t they?” Tracer had grinned happily, leaning on the table.

Winston had simply smiled and nodded reassuringly.

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