So this is for Rosto'sGirl! I am so sorry it took so long! I kept not liking the ending and redoing it until it felt right at long last! I hope it meets your expectations, and that you like it! XOXO!

...

Chuck hummed under His breath as He rocked the little one back and forth in His arms, walking around his bedroom and waiting for the little guys breathing to even out enough that He knew that he wouldn't wake when He moved to lay him down in the bed.

He smiled softly down at the slumbering child, leaning forward only slightly to press a kiss to his soft recently washed hair. Michael stirred softly and He hummed again.

"Go back to sleep Prince. Way passed bedtime."

Michael murmured and cuddled deeper into his Father's shoulder, little fingers kneeding into the soft shirt He wore, and he settled right back down as he was told to.

"There we are, nice and sleepy, aren't we?"

The little fledgling nodded into His neck and licked his lips sleepily, Chuck smiled slightly as He leaned down to set the small boy onto the bed, and tucked him in tenderly.

"Sleep tight my little prince."

Michael snuggled into his stuffed toy and Chuck stepped back as the lion trotted over the floor and jumped up onto the bed next to him curling around the small boy in ready to go to sleep.

Shaking His head the father turned to walk from the room and flipped on the night light on His way out of the room, shutting his door slightly behind Him.

...

"Son perhaps it'll help."

"How will my being a fledgling help anything?"

Chuck threw his hands into the air as Michael growled at him. He wanted to help His son, after having seen just what the decision to leave him in the cage had done. Michael was barely a flicker, what was once a raging fire was nothing more then a flicker, he was slowly burning out.

The Cage had been designed to be a punishment for the inhabitant it contained and He was slowly coming to the conclusion that perhaps it had been a bit too cruel, a bit more of a punishment then it should have been.

Lucifer was made of ice, his core was frozen, therefore it had to be scorching hot.

But Michael was fire, he was burning, literally, and so it had to be freezing for him to feel it.

Perhaps He had gone too far though.

Michael was haunted now and it was scary, terrifying, and Chuck felt horrid.

"Give your core enough time to restabilize and strengthen."

Michael laughed meanly and shook his head, "No."

"I'm not giving you a choice in the matter."

Chuck raised a hand and Michael ducked as a light illuminated around them and he tried to block himself from his Father's power but that was a futile effort and he gave a scream as he felt his bones changing, they were molding and shrinking and it was excruitiating.

Then it was over.

He looked down at his little self, flexing his teeny fingers before his eyes, and looking up over his arms and down his little chest and-

"I'm naked!"

There was another snap and he sported a new set of white shorts, soft to the touch, and baggy.

"How do you feel?"

His eyes decieved him as they filled with tears, looking up at his father shining in the light, "It huuuurt!"

The sob was torn from his chest involuntarily and he wrapped little arms around himself tightly.

Chuck scooped the little guy up, "It did? How do you feel now?"

Michael sobbed, "Huuuuurts!"

...

Chuck chuckled to Himself as the little angel smathered another handful of finger paint onto the large paper spread out on the table, He wiped His hands on the towel on the counter and leaned down next to His son at the table.

"What did you paint Micha?"

Little eyes turned up at him sparkling and he grinned happily, "I painted you!"

The Father made a sound of interest and Michael reached up to pat a blue covered hand to his Father's face, Chuck made a face of disgust as He reached up to touch a hand to His paint covered cheek.

"You paint covered monster you!"

Michael giggled and curled into himself, "I painted you Daddy!"

Chuck lifted the little one up under his arms and kissed his belly playfully. Michael shrieked and giggled twisting around to get away from the attack.

"I think someone needs a bath and then its time for lunch."

"Tacos!"

He chuckled, "Yes we can have tacos."

...

"Michael I know your mad, but you come down here right now!"

"No!"

"Do not make me come up there and get you."

There was a crash and He stopped for a mere moment, and then His anger reached a new peek, "Did you just break my laptop?"

"Maybe!"

Michael went pale when the foot steps came up the stair case and he whined lowly running to hide in the corner in fear. Chuck pushed the door to His study open ready to yell at the naughty little angel and He stopped right in His tracks.

The little trembling form was not something He had expected to see.

"Michael?"

He trembled harder and wrapped himself up in his arms. Chuck gave a sigh and sat where He was, crossing His legs, He'd wait it out.

"I'm not mad little one, I promise, I'm just happy you're okay."

It was almost half an hour later when Michael slowly crawled into His lap.

"I'm sorry Daddy."

"I know, little one, I know."

...

"Concentrate fire bug."

Michael's teeny tongue poked out of his mouth, his little hands cupped together, all he needed was one tiny flame. One tiny little flicker of an orange flame.

"You can do it. I know you can."

He pushed harder, his internal temperature rose steadily, "Daddy! Daddy! I did it!"

There in the palm of his hands was a tiny flickering flame. It was still much to small, but it was a good sign, and his core was finally heating up again. Chuck cupped his little hands and added His own power to the flame and they watched as it grew in size. Nothing too big as so Michael could still control it himself.

"Yes you did little one, you're growing stronger and stronger everyday, I'm so proud of you."

Michael giggled and watched as the flame in his palms flickered softly and faded out in a poof of smoke. He looked up and raised his hands to be picked up, Chuck obliged and swept him up, bouncing him softly on His arm.

"And what shall we do on this fine summer night we're going to have today?"

"Fire!"

"Fire?"

"Marshmellow and choco!"

Chuck smiled at the fledgling playfully, "You want to make s'mores?"

Michael nodded excitedly bouncing on his Father's arm happily.

"We have a plan then! What should we make for dinner?"

"Dogs!"

Hot dogs and s'mores. It was going to be a good old time. Perhaps they'd pull out a few blankets and pillows and stargaze. Michael had loved stargazing when it had only been them in Heaven all that time ago.

"Shall we watch the stars too?"

He got an excited nod from the little boy happily munching on his apple slice, and got a smile and giggles when He bent down to kiss at his neck in playful manner. Michael shook his head and leaned away from Him, smiling around his apple slice and giggling again.

"Daddy tell story!"

Chuck chuckled, "Yes, I'll tell you stories too."

...

Michael was hot. He was burning. Everything was much too warm. It was almost unbarable and he wanted it to stop. His fists clenched until the knuckles popped and he screamed, his skin was burning, he could see the flames. Father's spell was wearing off as his core got stronger.

"Michael. Michael you have to calm down."

The voice, he knew it, knew who it was, but it was still too distant. There was a fire raging in his ears and nothing else was loud enough to be heard over it.

"Michael."

This time the voice echoed in his head, it was soft, calming, like a soft thunder before a storm rolling over the hills of a meadow.

"Michael you need to concentrate. Focus on something. A tune, a face, a memory, focus on that and nothing else. Focus on that single thought and push your grace into it."

He did as the voice told him, his mind picking up on a face that was always there, a face that was always on his mind, and focused on it. Focused closely on the blonde hair and cool blue eyes. The spark of light that always glowed in the gaze and the smile that was always so welcoming and always filled with such fondness and amusement. The pale skinned that glowed to him, perfect to match his cool blue eyes and blonde curls.

His entire world revolved around him.

After everything.

He still wanted him home again.

He focused on that face and every inch and detail, and as he was intructed, forced his grace into it pushing the wild uncontrollable grace into his memory.

There was a flash, a searing hot flash of pain, and he opened eyes again. This time it was clear, he could see, and he met the gaze of the voice. Cool calming blue met his eyes, and he could see the glow reflection of his own eyes, a bright rolling red and orange.

"Do you feel better?"

Michael nodded slowly watching as his eyes slowly faded back to their usual soft blue. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. Chuck reached a hand up to cup his cheek and brushed His thumb over his cheek tenderly.

"You're still hot to the touch but that will fade over time. Take it easy, let's get you to sit down, over here."

Father pulled him forward, gudining him carefully to one of the chairs in the living room, and he sat gently. Carefully. He watched as Father moved around him, gathering up a bowl of cool water and a rag to dab at his temple.

The cool cloth felt good.

It was cool to his hot skin and he sighed.

"I'm going to put you to sleep so you can rest it off."

Michael didn't have time to react as fingers pressed to his temple and he was released. Light. And fell forward as his eyes rolled up. He could barely feel the arms that caught him as he toppled forward and was lifted with ease.

He woke some time later, the light outside having been replaced by the necessary darkness of night, with a ceiling fan blowing cool air around the room over his still warm body. A wet cloth was placed over his temple again and he looked over in surprise. Father was still there and he smiled down at him.

"How do you feel?"

Michael was still sluggish and everything was still slow moving for him.

"Tired."

He chuckled, rubbing His hand over his hair and pushing it back, replacing the cool cloth again, "Close your eyes then My Prince, and go back to sleep, I'll be here when you wake."

His eyes grew heavier as if making up a mind of their own, wanting to go back to sleep despite any reservations he might hold to it, but he didn't fight too hard. Father was scratching at his scalp and it felt good.

He wanted to sleep.

And so he did.

For a long long time.