Just gonna...Just gonna leave this here...A little bit of little adorable Samandriel and Big Bro Mike!
He was sitting alone, curled up in his wings, shaking like a wet leaf. The sounds he let out gave way to the notion he was extremely upset. His ears perked up at the faint sound of someone calling out his name, and his tear stained face lifted from his knees in his huddle to look for the source. He hadn't heard anyone approaching him and so to come face to face with anyone let alone Michael.
Of all things Michael has come to expect waiting for him outside his office, an injured fledgling is not one of them. It was rare for him to see fledglings nowadays, but this one he recognized as being one his brother had once been extremely fond of.
"Samandriel, what happened to you, you look a mess."
The fledgling sniffled again and shakes his head.
"No you don't know, or, no you won't tell me?"
Samandriel shook his head again, wiping his nose on his arm, intending on hiding away again. Sighing tiredly, the archangel lifted him from the floor despite any reservations he might have about it.
"Come then, I will clean you up, and then we will talk."
The fledgling struggled harshly but eventually realized that he was in no position to be escaping his coming treatment and resigned to the fact that he was now in someones custody. Though, he did come here, he realizes, he choose to come here.
Perhaps Michael could offer some sort of protection that he so needed.
Light flickered into existence as the Archangel crossed into the threshold. Though he loved to appear as such, don't let Michael ever convince you that he is as organized as he appears, his office is a mess. Books and scrolls cluttered everywhere. Candles were melting in their stands. He was carried beyond that though, back through the door separating the office from the personal room behind it.
It was clean of all mess.
A bed, large and full, made perfectly.
A desk along the side wall was clear of all clutter, papers piled in order of completed or not.
Swords, maces, spears, and shields were hung across the other wall.
But he was carried through the room and back into a washroom.
It was not as big as the one in their 'Nest' (which is not so much a nest as it is a large building of roman design) but it was still quite large. A large Jacuzzi bath tub, big enough to hold ten well built men, above it trickling down in a therapeutic rhythm was a waterfall of warm gentle water.
Honestly, it came to Michael as a surprise that the little guy had not passed out yet, he looked absolutely miserable, exhausted, and had quite obviously lost a lot of blood.
Setting the fledgling down next to the large tub, Michael knelt next to him, a hand around his wrist kept the little one in place and the attention kept.
"I am letting you go to fill the tub, do not run while I am momentarily distracted, do you understand?"
No one moved until the little one nodded in agreement. Michael turned as he said he was, reaching out to press into one of the stones around the tub and water began to fill from a vent in the bottom. The archangel turned when he was sure that the water was filling up steadily and made a hand motion in indication of the little one next to him.
"Let's strip you down."
With help, as his little hand was still quite injured, Samandriel was able to get his top off and then his bottoms, and lastly his undergarments before being lifted up and set feet first into the deep tub. The water was already around his waist and it was so warm and felt so good that he nearly fell down in order to be in it even more. But he waited until he was gently guided down to sit.
Gently, with a suds up wash cloth, Michael wiped away dirt and blood. His eyes widened in alarm at the sight under the grime.
"Samandriel, what has happened to you?"
His answer was nothing more then a simple look. Wide eyes looking up at him so pathetically that he found the cold outer shell he wore too often these days melting away to the desire to comfort him instead.
"How have you come by so many injuries?"
Again no answers and none to the ones that followed.
'Where have you been?'
'What? Are those holes in your head?'
'Have you been down to Earth? What were you doing down there?'
Still he got no answer and his worry peaked into full concern. This was so unlike the little one he had swaddled in a soft plush towel against his chest. Samandriel looked...Cute?...looking up at him from under the edge of a towel that was three sizes too big for him.
"Perhaps our brother Raphael would have better luck talking to you."
This got him a reaction, granted not one he was fond of, but it was the start of something he needed. Samandriel's eyes widened, watered, and his shoulders began to shiver.
"No."
"What?"
"No. No Raph. No doctor."
Michael took note of the fear that flashed through his shining eyes and pressed further.
"Perhaps our sister Naomi could find the memory of the accident you gained these wounds from."
Now the reaction he gained from that name was one much more severe. Samandriel looked absolutely petrified and his shoulders rocked with sobs as he shook his head frantically. Michael's brows met in concern at this sort of hysteria. This sweet little thing completely broke down in fear at this notion.
Sighing softly, Michael flexed his large pale blue wings wide, folding them around their frames.
"Talk to me little one, why does that name cause such fright?"
Surrounded by soft wings, wrapped in strong protective arms and a fluffy towel, warm and loved, Samandriel sobbed his story.
Michael grace burned at the treatment of a mere fledgling, how dare they even think of doing such things to this beautiful little creature.
He hummed, rocking the little one to calm him, and pressed his lips to his temple in brotherly fashion. The Archangels had long been feared since the fall, but this little fledgling had come to him, had sought him out, and Michael would be damn sure that he got the care and love he so needed.
Michael clothed that little abused child in one of his old tops, and tucked him straight away into his bed. Samandriel blinked up at him from his position cradled against the many many pillows. Kicking his sandals off, the archangel climbed up after him, pulling the little boy up onto his chest and wrapping him in blankets and arms, keeping him tight and protected against his chest.
"You need sleep, oh precious little one, and I will ensure that you get it. You have come to me for help and you shall get what you desired."
A kiss to his temple and the older brother tucked him in, safe and sound.
Naomi looked up in mild alarm when The Prince of Heaven came marching into her offices. Any thoughts of commendation quickly fell way to terror at the sight of the little fledgling hanging from his hip.
"Naomi, a little bird has brought it to my attention that you have been using these wars we have been having among factions to your own advantage, what say you?"