Michael stood in his tower, in his room, staring out at the night. The bustle of Vega sounded about the busy city, echoing up to him even from his high-point. They comforted him as far as he could be comforted. They were familiar and assured him that he was doing his job inasfar. Although his failures happened, his victories were remembered far more by the humans and those were what he was weighed by.
Something was off, this night. He didn't know what, but he knew that it was. All he had to do was wait for it to become apparent and then do something about it. His hearing might have been better than the humans' but it wasn't perfect. To correct his flaw and make sure that he was on top of the emergencies that happened within the city, he had a comm link settled in his right ear.
His head turned from side to side, keen blue eyes mildly scanning the groups in the streets. If anything truly happened, he would know about it via the link. For now, he was content to be alert and watch.
"This is Lewis in the south perimeter. We have an 9-ball attack-" The report was broken off by the sound of guns firing and the 8-balls screaming their anger.
Instantly, Michael was off. He leaped through the wide opening and let his wings spread with relief. It wasn't painful, exactly, to keep them hidden, but it was tight and uncomfortable. When the wings were injured it was agonizing to retract them. Thankfully, that didn't happen often. Indeed, it was rare for that to happen as it took so much strength that only a few angels could do it; namely Michael, Gabriel, Uriel and the higher angels like Furiad.
He arrived at the site within seconds of hearing of the attack and landed, knocking two aside with his wings, breaking their necks. He dispatched another two with relative ease, barely even breathing heavily as he finished them off.
"Michael!"
Alex's shout had him instantly alert. Thinking the Chosen One in trouble, he turned towards the voice, spying the human with relative ease as he defended against a stray 8-ball. He had bruises from his fight and he seemed to be guarding his side but otherwise he looked unharmed and he seemed to be holding his own. Confusion briefly spread through him as he wondered why Alex had called to him.
A whisper of a blade breathed passed his face and he leaned back just in time to avoid being cleaved in half by Furiad's steel. As it was, it harmlessly swept past him. Michael stepped back and pulled out his swords in one stroke then swung them to block Furiad's next swing. The dance reminded him of when the higher angel and a few 8-balls had attacked him and Alex outside Alex's former home. He was careful to block out the rest of the world so that he wouldn't repeat his mistake.
Furiad blocked his counterattack with little strain and countered with an attack of his own. Shame sparked when Michael realized that it was taking more strength than it should have to continue in the fight. Another parry, counter, attack, went through its paces and Michael managed to score a small hit but it was extremely minimal and the higher angel kept coming with tireless energy.
"Michael!" he heard Alex call again. This time instead of paying attention to it, the Arc Angel ignored it and kept right on with the dance.
That is, until Furiad was suddenly knocked over, taken down by none other than Alex Lannen. Michael watched in disguised astonishment as the blond tackled the higher angel and then curled into himself as he aggravated his injured side. It didn't take long for Furiad to take advantage of the weakness, kicking Alex off him and sending him flying. Alex landed with a pained grunt and he pulled out his gun to fire. The soldier in him aimed and fired without a second thought, The bullet pinging harmlessly off of Furiad's wings - which he'd used to shield himself - and redirecting to other places. One of them flew at Michael, bouncing off his shoulder and then landing on the ground.
As Furiad advanced on Alex, two more 8-balls attacked him, sparing the higher angel from having to deal with someone as lowly as a human. After noticing that Alex was taken care of, Furiad advanced on Michael.
Wanting to take the higher angel out of the equation and away from Alex, Michael let loose his wings and grabbed the other angel, carrying him to a higher building's rooftop. There they were allowed to continue out their fight with no further distractions.
Taking advantage of an angel's weak point, Furiad struck faster than Michael had a chance to block. The blunt end of his sword came down on the left wing with enough force and strength to break the main joint in it with a thunderous, agonizing crack.
Unable to stop himself, Michael cried out, the sound echoing through the busy night, he was sure. The pain was acute, stealing all thought from him in the blink of an eye. The Arc Angel doubted that he'd be able to put the wings away now, even if he'd wanted to. Moving the left wing would be impossible and excruciating to say the least. But what made him hesitate is the knowledge that the wing wouldn't respond to his command because it simply wasn't able to move.
Across from him, Furiad's red eyes glowed and gleamed with joy. He knew that he had Michael at a disadvantage. It had, no doubt, been his main reason for doing what he'd done. But the sheer amount of joy the man had from Michael's pain disgusted and angered the Arc Angel.
No matter how much pain it would cause him, Michael would see this angel dead within the hour.
oOo
In spite of the pain that burned through his side, Alex Lannen was determined to reach Michael and help him in any way he could. From the moment the Arc Angel had joined in the fight, once again facing off against the red higher Angel, Alex had been concerned for his safety. The absolute last thing that Alex wanted was for Michael to be hurt once again because of him.
Because that was why the angels had attacked wasn't it? To get to him. To draw him out to where they could grab him and use him. Alex inwardly winced at how arrogant that sounded but he knew it to be true. Gabriel was determined to have him and the angel's patience was wearing thin in waiting for Alex to come to him.
He raced up the stairs to the roof of what had once been a magnificent hotel and stopped dead when he took in the scene.
The red higher angel lay decapitated at Michael's feet, his swords clean of any blood whatsoever. Michael, it seemed, was barely standing. His beautiful black wings hung limply behind him - an oddity since the Arc Angel usually kept them tucked away so that he could maneuver around the city with ease. The left wing appeared to be bent at an odd angle in the middle - there was a bulge actually - but Alex didn't have enough experience with wings to know what that indicated.
On the other side of the dead angel stood Uriel - Michael's beautiful but weird sister. Her sword - if that's what her weapon could be called - hung by her side, her hand still holding a white-knuckled grip on it, with blood sleekly streaming off of it. Alex didn't have to guess who had killed the angel that lay between the siblings. If it hadn't been blatantly obvious from the bloodied weapon, it was from the look of unadulterated fury that resided in the blond angel's eyes. She looked as though she wanted to revive the red angel just so she could kill him again.
"Are you alright, brother?" she asked her accented voice coming out cold and impassive. Yet the question clearly hinted at her concern, didn't it? Or was she just doing a cursory check?
As though he'd been waiting for that one question, Michael suddenly deflated. He sunk down to the ground so fast that it was a wonder that Uriel had had time to stop him from painfully hitting the gravel.
Wait, would a short fall hurt an angel like it would a human? Alex mentally shrugged it off, knowing that he could figure that out later. For now he raced to Michael's side, calling the Arc Angel's name the instant he noticed the angel falling. He reached Michael in relative short time and kneeled in front of him, panting from pain. The pain in his side was immense and stealing his breath away but he refused to let it do more than that. Right now Michael needed him more.
"Stay still," Uriel commanded her brother as she stepped behind him, behind the left wing. "And if you so much as swat at me, I will break the other wing."
Appalled that a sister could treat her injured brother that way, Alex stared at her. He fully believed that she would hurt Michael if he attempted to hurt her. That was, until he actually looked her in the eye. Though her face was set in a hardened exression of uncaring, her eyes pratically weeped with pity and concern. They met one another's gaze and stared in understanding - they both cared about Michael and wouldn't do anything that would hurt him more if they could help it.
Looking away and back at Michael, Alex refocused. The Arc Angel had a small smile on his face, no doubt knowing that Uriel's threat was empty. In the next second, the smile vanished, a look of pain near agony quickly replacing it. It reminded Alex of when Michael had been stabbed, but this time, rather than mercifully passing out - even if it was from blood loss - Michael remained conscious, fully aware of every excruciating second.
During their training Michael had taught Alex many things. They'd only recently begun to touch on an angel's weaknesses. If it had bothered Michael that he was telling Alex everything he needed to know to not only take out Gabriel - if Alex was strong enough - but any other angel he came across, the Arc Angel had never let on. As he'd done nearly everything else, he'd relayed the information in the same monotone voice. They hadn't gotten far into the session before Alex had been called away for duty but Michael had had enough time to touch on an Angel's biggest weakness - its wings.
An angel's wings weren't like a bird's. Sure they helped them fly but they were more like another arm or leg than wings. The bones that spread through them under the skin were thick and full. They were ny impossible to break unless you were one of the higher angels or another Arc Angel. Once fixed they healed pretty quickly, fusing back together as though they hadn't been separated or cracked at all. The nerves and muscles within the wings were just as strong as the bones and almost just as hard to break. The trouble was that once the ligaments and muscles had been injured, they took a bit longer to heal than the bones. Not nearly as long as it would have a human but long enough to hamper an angel, making it hard for it to escape. That was why breaking an angel's wing was one of the best ways to kill it - it ensured that the angel remained on the ground while constantly delivering a dose of agony.
Alex couldn't imagine the pain that Michael was in right now. Yet, his blue eyes held more than that as they looked him over. They held worry and something else that Alex doubted had even been there.
"Are you alright?" he asked Alex, his tone indicating his concern. His face soon became a mask of agony and Alex heard a loud pop echo throughout the air. Uriel had reset the bone in Michael's wing. Now Michael could - albeit very painfully - tuck his wings away so that they weren't so encumbersome if he desired.
"Leave them out for a bit, Michael," Uriel commanded, guessing her brother's intention. "You're safe up here for the time being." Her eyes glanced at Alex who still kneeled in front of Michael, his hands resting on the Arc Angel's biceps. "And so is Alex."
"I'm fine," Alex said, his voice harder than he had meant. He'd wanted to reassure Michael that he was alright. After all a few bruised ribs weren't anything life threatening - just painful. But he'd also managed to add a bit of a bite into it that had been aimed at Uriel. It was as though he'd heard a challenge in her tone and had responded to it accordingly.
Michael's gaze held doubt but he didn't voice it. Either he knew that Alex would only be able to deny his injury for so long or he was in too much pain himself to truly call him on the lie. Judging by the tremors that ran through Michael's arms, Alex guessed it was the latter but it could have just as easily been both.
Even though Uriel obviously wanted to keep her brother still for a moment longer, Alex was itching to get him to his own room. It was one of the few places that Michael felt safe - or as safe as one could be in this world - and it was bound to be far more comfortable than the gravelled roof. Still, he deferred to the sister since he knew that she could well and truly kick his ass if he defied her.
After another few mintues, Michael stood, bringing Alex painfully up with him. He didn't shrug Alex's grip off which surprised the human more than a little since Michael had never seeed the type to want physical closeness with others. With a flinch and a grimace, he folded his wings in, his arms tightening under Alex's grip from his muscles clenching with the pain.
"Come," he said to Alex, turning towards the door that Alex had burst from. He moved stiffly, as though he had pulled a muscle in his back, but still with grace. "You need to see the doctor."
"Michael, I'm fine," Alex said, following the Arc Angel nonetheless.
"You are injured and in pain," Michael pointed out matter-of-factly, his tone brooking no argument.
"Pot meet kettle," Alex retorted, using a phrase that he'd heard Jeep use when he was younger. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant but he knew that it was used to politely call someone a hypocrite.
Michael turned around, his features smooth but his body showing signs of pain still. "I have been tended to," he said. His eyes roamed over Alex again and continued, "You have not."
With that he walked through the door, still moving stiffly, and down the stairs. Leaving Alex to follow behind and Uriel to do as she pleased.
oOo
Uriel felt an emotion that surpassed rage. How dare Furiad touch her brother! That they fought was not a surprise but that the higher angel had gone so far as to break Michael's wing was infuriating. She flew through the night, the chill wind doing nothing to calm her ire, towards Gabriel's place in the mountains. She would have words with her brother and if she managed to spill a little blood, so much the better.
oOo
Michael sat on the floor in his meditative pose. His gaze was ahead but his focus was somewhere else entirely. He knew the moment that she'd left where Uriel was going. He also knew that her lust for something bordering on vengeance would never be sated since she'd beheadded the one who'd done the damage. Still, he let her go, not really wanting her presence around Alex much longer. What she wanted with Alex, he wasn't sure, but he had no doubt that she wanted something from him. If not just him entirely.
A sound had him upright and spinning around to face the adversary with his swords in hand before he coud even find it in him to recognize Alex. The human was still slightly hunched but his palor had gone back to normal and the fire in his blue eyes had returned. He held still while he waited for Michael to realize who he was and that he wasn't a threat, his eyes boring into the Arc Angel with an intenseness that wasn't normally attributed to the man.
Pain, raw and hungry, scoured through his back, attacking the left side with such vengeance that it would have put Uriel's anger to shame. It had him lowering his swords instantly, favoring his left arm a little as it spread through his chest and down to the limb. Not wanting to give in entirely, Michael held on tighter to the swords. He hesitated only slightly before he put them back into his belt and folded his arms behind his back.
"Michael, relax would you?" Alex bid, sounding frustrated as he came further into the room and stood before him.
Hesitantly, Alex reached out and gently pulled Michael's arms back to his sides. His grip was firm on the right arm, showing that he wouldn't take any fight from the angel, but his hold on the left was soft and barely there. Why the human was treating him so carefully was beyond Michael's understanding. It was just a bit of pain. It was a part of life. Every body experienced it in some form or another. That Michael had been injured and was still hurting from it was not a reason for Alex to be so gentle in touching him.
"I'm fine, Alex," he said, wondering if the human didn't acutally know that. "There's no need for such docility."
Alex raised an eyebrow, his hands pulling away from Michael's arms. "This isn't me being docile," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "It's called caring."
Michael remained unmoving, his actions showing Alex that he wanted the human to continue.
With a small sigh, the human said, "You're hurt and your causing yourself unnecessary pain by being so on edge."
"Pain is a part of life," Michael responded, still not understanding what the problem was.
Alex's eyes became sad. "Yeah it is," he conceded. "But that does not mean that you can't take a small amount of time and let yourself heal or let those that care about you take care of you."
At this Michael cocked his head to the side. "I don't need to be taken care of."
Alex pointedly looked at him, his expression saying that he believed otherwise. He didn't argue, however, which Michael was sure Alex knew would be pointless. Instead he wrinkled his nose a little and then looked at Michael's torn and dirty coat and sweat-stained shirt.
"Will you at least take a bath?" he asked, lowering his arms to his sides in surrender. His nose wrinkled again. "You smell."
Michael raised an eyebrow, expressing his surprise in a very human way. "And why is it that you do not?" He slowly moved throughout his room, careful not to move his arm or stress his back too much as he did so. To call the place where he lived a room was truly downgrading the space. It was actually more like a studio apartment, complete with a small kitchen and a large bathroom with a spacious bathtub. He'd been told that it had once been a penthouse suite but as the words were lost on him no one had bothered trying to explain what that was.
"Because I took a shower when you escorted me to the infirmary," Alex answered with a shrug. If it hadn't been for the fact that Michael knew Alex had been seen to he would have suspected that the human had not allowed a physician to examine him. His words suggested as much, at least.
"And how are you feeling?" he asked, unable to calm the worry he felt for Alex's well-being and happiness.
He stepped into the bathroom and slightly shut the door for privacy. Although he didn't mind if Alex saw him unclothed, he knew it made the human uncomfortable and so hid himself out of respect. Taking off his clothes was a lesson is frustration and pain that Michael could have done without. Even so, as he'd told Alex earlier, pain was a part of being injured and so he worked around it and then got into the shower.
The beat of the water upon his back hurt. It hurt far more than Michael could have anticipated it would and he had a hard time biting back the sounds of pain as he didn't want Alex to become more worried than he already appreared to be. Whatever expressions that crossed his face, however, Michael could neither see nor control. They were his only outlet and he used them without guilt.
"You do know I said a bath, not shower, right?"
Alex's voice so near startled Michael. He managed not to outwardly show it but his muscles had once again become tense, making him wince, and his heart had slightly sped up. Choosing not to respond to the question, he instead reminded the human that he had yet to respond to his while he grabbed a towel and dried off.
"I'm fine," Alex assured, sounding as though he were tired of hearing the question. "I've got my side wrapped like a tight present and a bit of ibuprofen running through my veins - I'm good. It's you I'm worried about."
All while Alex talked, Michael had dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist and gone back out to his room where a fresh set of clothes were waiting in a chest of drawers.
"I'm fine as well," he answered as he gingerly bent down to grab jeans and a tee shirt.
"And you expect me to believe that when I can see from the bruises marring your back that you're not?"
Even without facing the human, Michael knew that he once again had his arms over his chest in a stubborn expression. It made him smile. He admired the humans' ability to remain stubborn and strong in the face of impossibility. It was why they had survived as long as they had, even without the angels descending and attempting to take over. Now, granted, Alex faced no such adversary now, but Michael's will was known to be just as strong as all the humans' combined but he had no doubt that Alex could sway him should he wish to try.
"The bruises were expected were they not?" He slipped his shirt on in order to hide the markings, perhaps hoping that Alex would forget that he'd seen them, though that was unlikely.
A hand stopped the shirt's downfall and soon another joined it. They lifted the shirt up to Michael's shoulders and then one continued to hold it while another, strong but gentle, traced the blues and greens on the left side of his back. Michael let Alex conduct his examine, knowing that it would put his mind and worries at ease. He was thankful that Alex could not see him and that there was not a mirror facing him for it meant that the Chosen One couldn't see his expression. Grimaces and winces criss-crossed his face as Alex trailed his hand down the tender flesh. Even without seeing it, Michael knew that it had become swollen along with the bruising and though Alex's touch was as gentle as could be, it still hurt.
"Would ice help?" Alex asked, his voice far too close to Michael's ear for the angel's comfort.
He stepped away to put distance between himself and the human. For many weeks, Michael had been plagued by feelings that he had thought he could never feel. And they were aimed at Alex. He had found himself caring more and more about what happened to him and it wasn't just because he was destined to save - or possibly destroy - the world. He cared because he wanted Alex to find happiness. Soon after assessing those feelings, Michael soon discovered that it was he who wanted to make Alex happy. But Alex wasn't over Claire Reisin yet and Michael wasn't going to make a move of any kind until he was sure that Alex would be ready for it.
"It's not necessary," he answered, fixing his shirt into place and standing at ease as he stared at Alex.
"That wasn't what I asked," Alex pointed out.
"The truth is I'm not sure," Michael admitted, beginning to walk, very stiffly, about the room. "An injury of this magnitude has not happened to an angel since we came to Earth. Since we do not injure as easily as the humans we have never had to recuperate like humans."
"Right, well, sit down, try not to move too much, and I'll be right back."
"Alex, that's really not necessary. I'll be fine."
His words were wasted. Before he'd even finished his sentence, Alex had been gone. Gone to get whatever remedies humans used for injuries such as this. With a sigh of frustration, Michael sat back down into his meditative pose to wait.
oOo
When Alex walked back into Michael's room, the Arc Angel seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease. In his hands he held a cooler which held a couple of ice packs - big ice packs. The bruising on Michael's back looked painful and made Alex wince at the sheer sight of it. He knew Michael had been trying to hide how much he hurt and Alex wasn't buying it. He'd tried to be gentle when he'd examined Michael's back but he suspected that even that was painful for him.
Alex wasn't sure when but for a while now, he had been caring about the Arc Angel more than he previously had. And seeing him in such pain was killing Alex.
"Lay on the bed," he commanded as he fully entered.
He expected Michael to fight him on it, but instead the angel sighed, stiffly got up and went over by the bed. As he seemed to be having trouble taking off his shirt, Alex went over to help, surprised to hear Michael's sharp intake of breath at his touch. Putting that curious tidbit away for later, Alex concentrated on not causing Michael more harm by helping him.
"Alright," he said, opening the cooler while Michael gingerly laid on the bed. "This will be cold."
Taking Michael's abandoned shirt, he used it to separate the ice from the angel's skin and then laid the pack on the swollen left side of Michael's back.
Michael shifted, looking uncomfortable. His face wrinkled into a brief expression of pain before smoothing out as the ice, apparently did its work.
"Better?" he asked, knowing that it was. He just wanted to see if the angel would admit to it.
"Indeed," Michael agreed on a sigh. His eyes closed and it looked as though he were going to sleep. Alex was tempted to let him seeing as how he could probably use the rest. "Say what's on your mind, Alex."
Well so much for keeping his mouth shut. Apparently his mind was speaking loudly enough for Michael to hear it. Even so, Alex wasn't sure where to start. It seemed stupid to apologize for Michael's being injured when it wasn't, directly, Alex's fault. And yet, it wouldn't have happened if Gabriel hadn't wanted Alex so badly. He knew Michael would reject his apology as soon as it was given. But he still felt the need to do it, to express how badly he felt that Michael had been hurt.
"It wasn't your fault, Alex," Michael said.
"Can you read my mind?" Alex joked, exhaling heavily, relieved that he hadn't actually had to say anything out loud.
"No," Michael flatly responded. "It's not hard to guess what you're thinking or feeling. For the most part it's written all over your face or in your actions. I read your guilt by how carefully you've been treating me."
Alex scoffed. "You've never really had anybody care for you, have you?"
He didn't know why it was such a hard concept for him to grasp. There had been a time in his life when no one had cared about him or for him. Except for Michael. Alex supposed that in his own way, the Arc Angel had taken care of him when Jeep had left. But even then, Alex had felt alone. He'd learned how to nurse wounds without anyone to help ease the pain. He'd learned how to hide bruises and pretend that he was fine when he was really in agony. He'd grown stronger from the experience and it would no doubt help later on. But Michael. Michael was an angel. From the time they had come to Earth, Alex had stopped thinking of them as a caring lot but surely someone had cared for and about the Arc Angel since he'd "fallen". Hadn't they?
"There has never been a need for it."
"Haven't you ever had a crap day where you needed to share it with someone to make it feel less like shit?"
"Yes." Michael shifted on the bed, the ice pack sliding onto the mattress. He laid on his side so that he could look at Alex and Alex at him. It seemed to cause him some discomfort to do so but he didn't make a move to change his position. "But there was no one whom I could trust with your true identity."
Great, so it was my fault that he's been so lonely for all these years.
"It was the beatings, wasn't it?" Alex asked. He was confused as to how he reached that conclusion since his mind seemed to be too busy drowning in guilt but reach it he had. "You hated giving them as much as I hated receiving them, didn't you?"
Now Michael sat up, giving a small wince. "Did you honestly believe that I enjoyed whipping you?"
"Honestly? I couldn't tell. You were so careful with your expressions that I couldn't tell if you liked or hated doing it."
At this Michael stood up and walked over to him, his eyes as sincere as they had been the day that Michael had taken him back to his childhood home and explained Alex's history to him. "Believe me, I hated every second of it."
Alex thickly swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that.
"Would you just lay back down, please?" Alex asked, frustrated and a little bit flustered. He pointed to the bed, hoping Michael would follow his arm rather than simply stare at him. Not unexpectedly, the Arc Angel's concentration was not broken and he continued to watch Alex with weary eyes.
For a moment Alex was caught up in that gaze. It swept him up in a whirlwind, lifting him off his feet and taking him to wherever it liked. He somehow felt just how tired Michael was. Not just from the day's exertions - although for an angel, Alex doubted they were much at all. No, this was an exhaustion born out of many years' duty, guardianship, and strength. All the years of protecting Vega, of putting on a face for all the world to see so that they knew that Vega was defended. All the lonely nights of having to guard his words against unfriendly ears, of never being able to let his walls down. All that time keeping secrets from everyone for their own good and then choosing when to reveal them. All of it was wearing the angel down and he was just now allowing Alex to see that.
"Come on," he said, leading Michael back to the bed.
The Arc Angel moved slowly, stiffly again, slowing them both down for the entire two seconds that it took to reach the mattress. Alex watched as Michael gingerly lowered himself onto the bed and then stretched out, dutifully turning onto his stomach so that Alex could replace the ice pack. He inhaled sharply yet again with the cold and this time the lines that Alex was beginning to see was pain lines stayed longer than they had before.
Alex waited until he noticed Michael's face smooth into one of near-relaxation and then he went to the unoccupied side of the bed and laid down on it. He winced as his sore side began to remind him to take more medicine but he hid it as best he could and tried to simply relax.
"Thank you," Michael's voice said through the peaceful quiet. It was a bit mumbled as the angel was now half asleep and speaking through his pillow but it was still audible.
"For what?" Alex asked on a content sigh. His eyes had closed the minute he'd laid down and he certainly didn't see the point in opening them back up again.
"For taking care of me."
It was such a simple act and yet Michael had felt gratitude for it. If he hadn't been so tired that he was nearly asleep, Alex would have been floored by it. As it was, he merely sighed and blindly reached out a hand, meaning to give the other being a pat on the back. Somewhere in the back of his sleep addled mind, he realized that, given Michael's injury, that wouldn't be a good idea so he let his hand fall to the mattress in the space between him and Michael.
"Just go to sleep Michael," he mumbled. "You're safe here."
oOo
Uriel perched on top of the spire that her brother slept in. She'd been listening to his exchange with the chosen one and it was with a saddened heart that she realized that her brother had actually fallen for the human - and vice versa if truth be admitted. Loving a human never turned out well for an angel - she knew that and she knew that Michael knew that as well.
Knowing that her brother would figure the disadvantages out eventually, she let it be. As long as the human helped to care for her brother and keep him safe, Uriel would allow their relationship.
For now she was content to remain above them and watch over them as they slept. They would need their strength in the days to come.