A/N: Hihi! So, on to the aftermath! Yes, this update happened in record time. Please, don't expect it to happen often. I don't think I can live up to such lofty expectations.

Shoutout to 1Corinthians 1313! Glad you like it!

Enjoy!

Gabriel awoke to a sharp chime that he recognized as a startled cry. He sat up, instantly on alert and looked around.

Eliyon was gone and the only evidence of his presence was a tangled spot of golden feathers.

His first thought was that someone had taken him. Then, he recalled that the only Angels capable of opening his sealed aerie were Michael and Lucifer and they couldn't have cared less.

Yeah, we're still going to have words about that, Lucifer.

"Eliyon?" he called gently. "Where are you?"

He swung himself off the bed and stretched his wings until the joints popped. Walking around the bed, he refrained from opening his Grace just yet, in case the Fledgling was still in the room. He spotted him huddled in the farthest corner.

Eliyon gave a frightened gasp when Gabriel saw him and tried to scoot farther back against the wall, pressing his hand to his chest in an attempt to shield himself from the Archangel's overwhelming Grace. The Archangels rarely mingled with the lower Angels and never paid the smallest amount of attention to the Fledglings. Unless they had done something terribly wrong, like the day Balthazar had stolen a spell book from the library and tried to make Michael's wings turn blue.

I've done something wrong! I must have! But…I don't know what I did…

Relief flooded Gabriel's features and he grinned. "There you are!" he chuckled and strode toward the Fledgling.

Eliyon's eyes widened in terror and he held his other hand up beseechingly. "No!" he begged hoarsely. "Please…I—I'm sorry!"

Gabriel froze, staring at him with a stricken expression.

"I don't know what I did," Eliyon whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. "But I'm sorry…Please—please, don't—" he begged desperately as Gabriel approached him, "—please don't punish me!" He curled his arm over his head and cringed away when Gabriel got close.

Gabriel knelt down in front of him and gently grasped his arm.

"Please! Please, don't make it hurt," Eliyon choked, clutching his chest as his tears spilled over.

Gabriel cupped his cheek with one hand. "I'm not going to hurt you, little brother," he promised. He pulled Eliyon into a gentle embrace, wrapping his second wing pair around them both. As he'd hoped, after moment, Eliyon reached out to touch the feathers and he felt the Fledgling relax against him. Out of habit, he started to connect to Eliyon's Grace, then he recalled the way Eliyon had clutched his chest in pain and stopped. He pulled back from the Fledgling but kept his wings wrapped loosely around him and pressed his hand to Eliyon's chest.

"Wait!" Eliyon gasped in fright.

Gabriel met his panicked gaze and paused. Eliyon's eyes were, as of yet, the most unusual he had seen. They were silver, like liquid mercury and seemed to swirl as such, revealing every emotion and at the same time, concealing every thought.

That's…a little unsettling…

"I'm not going to hurt you, Eliyon," he said again, pulling himself from his thoughts. "I just want to check your Grace."

Eliyon hesitated, then gave him a trembling nod. Gabriel pressed against his chest and Eliyon whimpered and caved against the force of the Archangel's Grace. Gabriel probed the Fledgling's Grace as though it was a wound, trying to be gentle but needing to be thorough. On the surface, it felt raw, battered, burned even and Gabriel fought to keep his anger at Lucifer from flaring so close to the tiny, vulnerable life he literally held in his hands. When he tried to probe deeper, Eliyon let out a pained moan and Gabriel withdrew quickly, guilt stabbing him when he saw the silent tears streaming down the Fledgling's face

"What happened to you, kiddo?" he asked, wiping Eliyon's tears away with his thumb. "You look like somebody's been using you for Battle Practice."

"I don't know," Eliyon said in a tiny voice.

"Have they?" Gabriel asked, appalled by the thought.

Eliyon shook his head and Gabriel sighed with relief.

"You know," he began softly, "this would be a lot easier if you'd open up to me."

Eliyon's silver eyes snapped up and stared at him with terror. "I—I can't…"

Gabriel gave a slow, long-suffering nod. "I know. Because I'm an Archangel you've been told you're not supposed to even talk to me, right?"

"There's something wrong with me," Eliyon said in a near whisper and Gabriel frowned. "Every time I try…it hurts…"

Gabriel cocked his head, frowning in confused concern. "Let me see."

Eliyon ducked his head and gave a tiny nod and Gabriel felt his Grace open ever so tentatively. Gabriel saw the injuries again and realized that many of them were old and healing, but not healing well, which worried him intensely. From the moment of their creation, a Fledgling could heal themselves. Then, he looked past the injuries to the core of Eliyon's Grace and froze with the panic building in his chest. An Angel's Grace was like a living flame, pulsing and bright, preceding them wherever they went, announcing them, binding them to each other. Eliyon's was barely an ember, sputtering and weak.

Eliyon's Grace has always been weak, Liel had said.

Gabriel frowned again as he recalled those words. Were the injuries the cause of Eliyon's sputtering Grace, or were they the result? Either way, the Fledgling wasn't going to last much longer.

"Eliyon," he said his name and the Fledgling dragged his head up to look at him. His eyes were haunted with exhaustion. "I'm going to take care of you," Gabriel told him. "But I can't do that if you cut yourself off from me."

Eliyon stared at him in stunned confusion. The Archangel wanted to connect to his Grace? Could he refuse? Did he even dare? Gabriel had treated him kindly, thus far, but he could feel the power rolling off of him, something that promised both protection and danger. He was frightened, had been ever since he had awakened on the Archangel's white and gold wings. He was also exhausted and in pain and desperately craving the contact of one of his brethren's Grace.

He opened his Grace and waited but Gabriel made no move to connect them. Then, trembling with anxiety, he slowly reached out to touch the Archangel's immense Grace and felt Gabriel withdraw everything but the barest edge of himself. The connection was immediate and overwhelming. The Archangel was fire and flood and ice and wind, violence and gentleness, and Eliyon's dim ember of Grace sparked, flickered and grew.

Gabriel winced slightly as every sensation suddenly became painfully heightened. After the briefest moment, it faded…no, it withdrew. With a sense of shock, he felt it curl back into Eliyon and in its wake, were memories. He saw each time the other Angels had tried to connect with Eliyon's Grace, the bright flame of their beings brushing up against his smoldering ember. He could differentiate between the injuries, the light attempts of the other Fledglings and the frustrated endeavors of the older Angels. He felt Eliyon's Grace respond eagerly to his own, starving for the connection, and the Fledgling sagged against him, pressing himself into the Archangel's Grace much as he had pressed himself into Gabriel's feathers the day before.

"Gabriel?" he queried weakly against the Archangel's shoulder.

Gabriel held him securely, rubbing his back. Eliyon's Grace was recovering slowly. He could have healed him instantly but he was hesitant to exert so much power when he wasn't sure how fragile the Fledgling actually was.

"I've got you, little brother," he said. Then, he had a thought. "You want to show me what happened in the garden yesterday?"

Eliyon didn't reply but suddenly, Gabriel saw the Fledgling in the garden, creeping away from the others. He saw Liel pay him absolutely no mind and his temper flared before he could stop it. However, Eliyon didn't quail from the surge this time. Instead he seemed to relax further, as though he was comforted by the Archangel's indignation.

Eliyon crept away from his siblings, dampening his Grace even more, so that no one could follow him. Even though he was disconnected from them all, he could feel them, the innocent joy of their play, and he longed to join them.

Suddenly, he looked up in alarm as the thunder of the Archangels' altercation pulsed around him, causing him to wince.

The other Fledglings paid no heed to the rumble, almost as though they could not hear it at all.

With each thunderous crack, Eliyon cringed and pressed a hand to his chest to try and soothe the flare of pain.

Standing in the memory-scape, Gabriel glanced from Eliyon to the other Fledglings, and even Liel. The young ones were completely oblivious to the violence pulsing through Heaven and their Caretaker only cast a resignedly curious glance upward as the air pulsed across the wards with exceptional force.

That was the moment I had to drop to the street, Gabriel realized, recalling the unpleasant tingle that had skated across his wings.

Eliyon stared upwards, his mercurial eyes wide with fearful anticipation.

Gabriel might have missed the dangerous charge in the air, but the Fledgling obviously hadn't.

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of blue-white Grace scythed across the sky and warped across the garden's wards. Eliyon's eyes went wide and he let out a strangled gasp of agony as the Archangel's wrath speared him through. He clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground, his little body trembling and his Grace flickering desperately.

If Eliyon had been outside the wards, Lucifer's Grace would have obliterated him. Instead, the protections had condemned the Fledgling to the slow death of a collapsing Grace. And no one had cared.

Gabriel scooped him up and stood, only then realizing that Eliyon had taken hold of his feathers again. He carried him to the bed and laid him down, petting his head.

"Eliyon, I must leave for a moment," he said as calmly as he could as anger pulsed through him dangerously. "I want you to stay here and rest."

"Wait," Eliyon begged, his voice a tiny chime of fear and he grasped desperately at Gabriel as he turned away. "Don't leave."

Gabriel immediately turned back and took Eliyon's trembling hand. A part of him was pleased that the Fledgling had overcome his fear of him enough to speak so frankly, another part of him grieved that he was still so afraid. He could feel the anxiety pouring from him, not just at the thought of being alone but also at the realization that he was speaking, unbidden, to an Archangel.

He wanted to throttle his brothers for making their younger siblings so afraid of them all.

"I won't be gone long," he promised.

"Please," Eliyon's eyes shimmered with tears. "I've never…I've always been…please?"

Gabriel felt the unfinished pleas. I've never felt safe. I've always been alone.

He started to sway the bed, gently rocking the Fledgling as he pressed his hand to his forehead, exerting just enough Grace to calm Eliyon's panicked mind and lull him to sleep.

"You're safe here, Eliyon," he said as the Fledgling's eyes drifted closed. Then, in a tremendous show of will, he forced his eyes open again and fixed Gabriel with a desperate look.

He thinks I'm putting him out just so I can leave.

Gabriel smiled, impressed despite the sad situation. "Don't fight me, kiddo," he said gently, stroking Eliyon's cheek. "I just want you to get some rest. If you wake up before I get back, if you get scared for any reason, just reach out to me, alright? I'll be here."

Eliyon looked at him in disbelief, then nodded, willing to trust him. His eyes grew heavier and he slowly drifted off to sleep in the gently swinging bed.

Gabriel placed a kiss on the Fledgling's tousled head and left his aerie. He needed to have a word with Lucifer.