"What do you want?"

Her back is to him, her picking of flowers having come to a sudden halt, at the sound of his appearance behind her. She's grown accustom to her life living in solitude, he hasn't see her small little bungalow and he doesn't think he'll get the opportunity, her long brown hair is braided with flowers interwoven in every other braid, a small whicker basket of flowers settled at her side.

"Can't I just come see my baby sister?"

"You never come unless you want something." She peers over her should at him, her eyes averted, but he can still see their vibrant violet. "So just say what you want."

"I need you to make me a poison."

"Okay." She turns back to picking her flowers again and he makes to leave her, until her soft voice calls out to him again. "Why don't you ever come because you just want me?"

"Eiael, I promise you, the next time I come to see you, it will be for you."

"Okay."

He vows to show up the disbelief that echoes in her tone.

It takes him longer then he had wanted it to, keeping his promise to his younger sister that he had made so long ago, he had never wanted this much time to pass before he finally got the opportunity to go in search for the long lost exiled younger sister that's always on his mind.

In a way, he had kept his promise, he hadn't returned to collect the poison he had requested from her.

"Joshua is waiting rather anxiously for our return."

The Healer met him at the gates, pulling him from his thoughts, and he turned to look at the younger archangel as he approached him. His staff clicked lightly against the stone walkway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, they decided bringing their personal weapon with them was more in need then they weren't. One didn't know what they were walking into when going in search of a long lost family member that you haven't talked to in eons, much less seen, there was no telling what kind of reaction there would be from them.

"We are bringing her back today, brother." Michael turns to the gates. "I am not coming back without her."

"Joshua will not allow me to return without his girl." His brother comes to stand at his side. "We will bring her back."

The older archangel nods, sparing his brother a look. "Ready?"

"After you."

They knew where to search, she was just like her brother was, her love for the plants and fauna would only lead them to one place. The Amazon Rainforest was lush and green, the fauna growing proud and tall, and they looked around in curious wonder as they made their way over the many paths that led through the heart. Neither were sure what they were looking for, they had never seen what was made as her living arrangement, never seen where she had retreated to, they only ever saw her when they came to get something, they wanted from her, and usually in those times she was out picking her plants and flowers.

"This is beautiful." Raphael looked around at the fauna, up into the trees to see the monkeys swinging overhead, to the sky above at the wonderous birds that painted the sky with such color. "I can see why she would be drawn here."

"It is the only forest most similar to the Garden she grew up in," Michael agreed, looking around himself, trying to spy any sign that they were near some sort of destination. "It would feel most like home for her."

They climbed over an upturned tree trunk, bending at the knee slightly as they landed on steady footing, and continued on.

"The color is exquisite." The younger archangel kneeled slightly, touching his fingers lightly to a large, bright colored flower. "A true master piece." Michael stopped for him, the original Gardener was his brother, Raphael had always been captivated by the beauty that was found in nature, something he had passed down to one of his charges, the one that took over his place as Gardener, and it was something that he had passed down to his own charge. "Joshua would love it here."

"Joshua loves any forest. As long as there is a plant, he is captivated by it, even the simplest of gardens."

Raphael stands, elbowing his brother lightly in the ribs, and his older brother chuckles softly. "There is nothing wrong with loving a nice garden."

"I never said there was."

"You didn't have to."

They shared a smile and continued on, ducking under vines and sweeping branches, over trunks and logs, around boulders and winding trails, until they came upon a small clearing.

The two archangel stood at the edge of the clearing, hands coming up to shade their eyes from the bright gaze of the sun, as they surveyed the area around them. There, in the distance, was something that caught their eye. "What is that?"

Michael squinted against the glare of the sun above them. "It looks like it could be a hut."

"Let's get a closer look." Gripping his staff, the Healer led them forward, into the bright, warm clearing. They crossed through tall grass until they hit the actual heart of the clearing, where the grass shortened and patches of flowers swirled around them in an unseen design, wiping the sweat beading on his forehead, Michael kneeled next to a familiar basket.

Picked flowers were in the hold, bunched together in a small piled, snipped with keen precision as to replant them elsewhere. "We are in the right place."

"What makes you say that?"

He gestures to the basket, turning to look at his brother from over his shoulder, and the younger archangel followed his gesture. "This is her basket. She had it the last I saw her." He looked around them. "I doubt she would ever leave it behind without reason." Michael surveyed the land around them. "There is no sign of a struggle."

Raphael nodded in agreement. "There is no trampling in the grass, the flowers planted around us remain unharmed, no struggle, indeed." The silence around them was filled by the chirping of brightly colored birds, and he turned to gaze at the small hut just a few paces away. "Perhaps we should see if anyone is home?"

The older archangel curled the fingers of his right hand around the handle of the basket and nodded in agreement, standing back to his full height once more, he turned in the direction of the hut. "Let's see what lies inside." This time he leads them forward, the fingers of his left hand curling around the hilt of his sword tightly, he leans to the side to set the whicker basket on a small wooden bench just to the side of the cloth door, and gently sweeps the cloth aside to peer within. His fingers loosen from around the hilt of his sword, and he steps inside quickly, leaving the Healer in surprised silence. "Raphael, come quick."

The heat is lessoned now that they are in the shade that the hut offers, but it's still warm enough that their tunics stick to their backs from sweat, the Amazon was beautiful, but it was rather warm.

Their query lay haphazardly on a small mat of blankets, as though she had fallen there and hadn't been able to get back up, and the Healer crosses quickly to kneel at his side, setting his staff to lean against the wall of the small hut. "It appears she collapsed here." He presses the back of his fingers to her flushed cheeks, then to her forehead, frowning in disapproval. "She's burning up." Her face glistened with a sheen of sweat. "Possibly heatstroke." He eyed her attire disapprovingly, tight cloth trousers, a long sleeve deep green tunic that had seen better days, and a leather vest. He looked up, peering around the hut for anything that could be of use, and hummed when he spotted the thin night shirt hanging on a hook near them. "Michael, get me that tunic."

"The one for night?"

"Yes, that one." He begins the process of unthreading her thick leather vest. "Her body is too hot. We need to get her into something thinner." Michael nods, not needing to be told twice, and leaves them for a short moment to get the aforementioned tunic hanging just a step away. His brother has had practice in undressing unconscious patients, and has her soaked vest and tunic pulled up over her head by the time he returns, leaving her in her upper under garments. The Healer gestures at her lower half. "Get her out of her trousers." He takes the tunic he holds out to him and slips it over her head, winding her arms through the sleeve holes, they can't very well carry a naked young lady through the gates of Heaven for all to see.

Once their task is complete, he presses his hands to her face again, frowning deeper. "We have to get her cooled down." Curling one arm under her knees, and the other around her shoulders, he huffs as he stands from his kneeling position with her hanging limply in his arms. Her head lulls to the side, resting against his shoulder lightly, and he nods to his staff, indicating for the other archangel to take it with him. "Take my staff, I'll carry her, you burn too hot for her to handle in this state."

The Infirmary comes to a grinding halt at their entrance, all eyes on them, more precisely, on the young lady hanging limply in the Healer's arms in nothing but a night tunic. The Virtues all stare in shock, bedbound patients watch with mouths ajar, younger healers watch them with wide eyes. Only one soul moves, eyes wide, mouth ajar, he rushes forward for them, meeting them half way.

"Eia?" His pace quickens when she doesn't respond to his voice. "Eia!"

Their path forward is blocked by the Gardener, Joshua bends over her, pressing his hands to her warm, flushed cheeks, looking down at her worriedly. "Eia!"

"Joshua, she is going to be alright, but we have to get her cooled down, now." The Gardener nods lightly, stepping back for them to continue their path forward, following quickly at their heels. He will help, in any way, he will be at her side. Nothing, nothing short of Death himself, would keep him from her side again.

Raphael peers over his shoulder at the concerned Gardener, nodding in assurance, he turns back to his task at hand. "I need a tub of cool water, not cold, cool." No one moves, and he snaps. "Now." That gets them moving, two young healers rush away to fill a tub and carry it over to them, he sets her limp form down on a bed. Rolling his sleeves up, he feels her forehead again, humming disapprovingly.

"Here." He turns at his voice, smiling at Constantine as he comes to stand at his side, a bucket of water in hand, rags soaking in the cool liquid. "We can begin cooling her down until they can get the tub filled."

"Very good, yes, yes." They both take a large cloth from the bucket of water, rubbing it over her warm skin, trying to begin the cooling process. He rubs it over her face gently, circles around her cheeks, over her forehead, they curl a wet cloth around the back of her neck. Constantine rubs at her arms, her hands, each finger, then her legs, her thighs, calves, feet. "Joshua," he needs to get the Gardener to stop hovering, it's distracting, and he loath to say it, but he's only going to get in the way. "I need a new tunic for her."

"Send another healer for one, you have plenty at your disposal, I'm not leaving her."

He stands at her head, rubbing a cool cloth over her forehead, his eyes glued to hers. Urging them to open, he wants to see her brilliant violet eyes, just to gaze into them again.

"Joshua, I am not telling another one of my healers, I am telling you."

"And I am telling you, I am not leaving, so bark up another tree."

The Healer turns, he doesn't have time for this, and takes hold of the Gardeners chin. "Joshua, I am ordering you to go get my a new tunic."

The passive Gardner's eyes flash dangerously, as beautiful as a rose, but as sharp as a thorn, he curls his fingers in the collar of his tunic and yanks down harshly until his hand is forced away and he stumbles slightly as he's forced around. Constantine pauses as he looks over at them with wide eyes, the others slowly come to circle around them in awe, as the Gardener's rarely seen temper flares drastically. "I am not leaving my Eia alone with the likes of an Archangel." Even their Archangel stares at him in stunned silence, it's so rarely seen, most think that the Gardener has no temper, but when it shows itself, it's nearly as volatile as the one who's raised him is. "Alright, Joshua, alright." He nods, speaking softly, passively, and curls his fingers around the fist curled in his collar. "You can stay, just let go."

Ephraim steps forward, trying to sooth the distraught Gardener, setting a hand over his shoulder lightly. Joshua glares at him from over his shoulder, shaking the hand off, and snaps sharply. "Don't touch me." The Virtue holds his hands up passively, backing up a step as the ground shakes softly underfoot, he stumbles into his Captain, Oren steadies him as they sway with the rocking motion of the earth. "Don't any of you touch me."

"Alright, Joshua," Akriel waves his hands at him soothingly. "Alright, just calm down."

The Gardener glares at them, then to his archangel, and shoves him away from him as he turns back to stroking his little rose bud's face with his cool cloth. "I'm not leaving her with any of you, never again."

The Healer exchanges a look with his Captain over his shoulder, and Oren shrugs, there was little they could do to dispute the distrust. They had all failed the Gardener and his little rose bud. Ephraim steps beside them. "I'll get you a new tunic."

Two young healers return to their side, carrying a tub of cool water between them, and sets it down next to the bed she lays in.

"Okay, let's get her in the tub."

Joshua elbows him aside and he steps back from him. "I'll do it." He lifts the young lady from the bed gently, turning her around to the tub, he kneels slowly to lower her into the cool water, not caring that he's soaking his sleeves and the front of his tunic, watching her face carefully for any change in expression. He cups a handful of water and drips it down her head, it drips down her hair, and he busies his hands by working the knots from her brown wavy hair.

They sit there, at a slight distance from the Gardener and his charge, waiting for any change in position, he rests against the metal tub, arms hanging loosely in the cool water, waiting for any change in her.

And then her arm twitches.

Joshua sits up, leaning forward, his slightly pruned hands cradling her cheeks lightly. "Eiael?" Her eyes flutter softly, she takes a soft breath. "Eia?" Her eyes flutter open slowly, looking around with fear, wide and nervous, "Eia, it's okay." Her eyes come to rest on him, and he smiles. "It's okay, Eia, I'm here."

"….Josh…?"

"I'm here, rose bud, I'm right here."

A smile slowly flutters over her features. "Josh." Her arms raise weaking, her hands, long pruned, reach for his and he curls his fingers around hers, curling her hands into his. "Josh."

"You're home, Eia, you're home."