The creaking of one of the windows being pulled open filled the silence of the Infirmary, heads turned to look at the mysteriously open window, staring at it with mystified confusion. Raphael held his hand out, staying his Virtues from approaching the open window, and drew his archangel blade out from where he kept it in the leather belt wrapped around his waist. He peered out the window cautiously, looking first to the sides, and then downwards.

Hands appeared on the windowsill, and the Healer heaved an exasperated sigh, folding the blade back into his belt, he leaned over the windowsill. He pulled the owner of the hands up, and soon arms appeared, wrapping around the archangel's middle, as he was lifted up into the Infirmary through the window.

He curled himself tightly around the Healer, pressing his ear deep into the archangel's chest, as he was set back on his feet. The chest under him rumbled with a deep hum, and arms encircled around him in turn, holding him tightly and secure.

"Raph, please take me in! Please! I don't wanna go! Please!"

A hand stroked down the back of his head. "Go where?"

"The Prisons! I don't wanna go there! Please! Please take me in!"

The hand stilled for a moment, curling around the back of his neck comfortingly. "What ails you, little bumblebee?"

He clung to the Healer with all he was worth. "My heart!"

"Is you heart broken, Zaveriel?" He smiled softly when the young messenger nodded against his chest. "Broken hearts are most serious ailments." He bent over the little messenger, hugging him tightly against his chest, and kissed the top of his head. "I will take you in, little bumblebee." Zaveriel nodded silently, pressing himself closer, and the archangel curled his hand around the back of his head.

Raphael turned to his Captain. "Oren, will you continue to work on the files at my desk?" He looked back down to his little messenger. "I have a new patient to tend to." The Virtue nodded silently, looking at his younger brother with great concern, it was unlike the excitable messenger to be so quiet. "Of course, brother."

Trusting his Captain to run things while he was preoccupied, he gently turn himself and the young messenger around. "Let's go get you some clean clothes." He guided the distraught messenger away, curled close against his side, for the cupboards on the far right wall. Zaveriel walked with him, as silent as the night he had crept through, clutching to his tunic as he pressed himself as close as he could. He rubbed at his shoulder tenderly, reaching up with his free hand to open the cupboard doors, reaching for a clean tunic and a pair of trousers.

Tucking the clean clothes under his arm, he guided the shaken messenger back around, heading towards the washroom now. "We'll get you cleaned up before putting you in clean clothes."

They cross silently over the threshold of the Infirmary, the messenger still clutching at his tunic, walking through the stone archway that led to the magnificent washroom built behind the Infirmary's main room.

Zaveriel whines lightly when he pulls his hand away from clutching at the front of his tunic. "It's alright, little bumblebee, you are mine now. No one can take you anywhere from here on." Raphael gestured to the table carved into the side of the wall. "I'm merely going to get you some soap. Do you see the bench there?" Zaveriel nodded. "Then you watch me while I walk over to get you some soap, alright?" Zaveriel nodded again.

He watched the Healer pull the hand curled in the back of his tunic away, and stepped away from his side to fetch what he was after, Zaves watched him gather up a bar of lavender soap and a cleaning rag, reaching for the hooks to grab him a towel for drying, and turn around to return to his side.

Raphael tucked the towel over his arm, with the tunic and trousers, and looked down to his little bumblebee. "Strip out of those clothes for me."

The younger angel nodded, undoing the leather belt from around his waist first, depositing it in the Healer's outstretched hand, and bent slightly to pull his tunic up and over his head, bending to yank his trousers off, depositing those in the archangel's outstretched hand as well. His old guardian passed him the washing rag and lavender soap, nodding to the pool of warm water, curling the soiled clothes into his arm. "In the water with you. Take these and wash yourself up."

"Will you stay?"

He nodded. "I'm not going anywhere."

Zaveriel stared into his eyes, as though searching for deception, and when he found none he turned and waded into the pool, until it came up to his shoulders, and began to lather up the rag in his hand with the lavender soap.

The Healer watched him for a brief amount of time, before turning to return to the table carved into the wall of his Infirmary's washroom, depositing the soiled clothes into a waste basket sitting there. He would get him new clothing when the time was right, and for now he would wear what they had for him here, he turned to lean against the edge of the table to watch his nearly grown charge bath himself.

He watched the young messenger duck under the water to rinse the soap from his hair, smiling to himself in fond amusement when he rose again, shaking the water from his curls, just as he had always done when he was a small fledgling. Zaves splashes water in his face to wash away the soap that dripped down, to ensure it would not burn his eyes when he opened them, and when he did, he turned immediately over his shoulder to look for him.

The smile that lit his features at the sight that he was still there, as he waved his fingers lightly in greeting, was almost heartbreaking.

Zaves stood from where he sat in the warm pool, wadding back out again, to be curled in the thick warm towel draped over the Healer's arm. He curled it around his shoulders securely, and draped a second one over his head, cradling his cheeks in his hands. "It's like you're a fledgling again."

"I'm always gonna be your fledgling."

"You most certainly will." He leaned forward to kiss his nose lightly, and he scrunched up his face at it, just as he had done when he was a small fledgling. "Dry yourself, and get dressed again, my little fledgling."

The young messenger nodded, reaching up to rub the towel covering his head over his dripping curls, then over his face. Raphael stepped away for him to dry himself after his bath, holding out his hand for the towels, and the clothes out in the other, to make the exchange.

Zaves looked up at him when he finished, and he held his arms open for him, in the invitation for an embrace. The young messenger dove forward, ramming into his chest, and wrapped his arms around the archangel's middle as tightly as he could. "You won't let them take me, will you?"

"You go nowhere until I release you." Fingers stroke through his damp curls. "And that's not going to happen anytime soon." Fingers drifted down to his shoulders, and thumbs dug into the tense muscles, he breathed out a deep breath and leaned in closer. "So, relax yourself. I took care of you once. And I will take care of you again."

"Will you rub my back?"

The archangel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to the damp curls. "Yes." Turning them to the archway that led back to the open, spacious, room that was the Infirmary. "Let's get you into bed, and then I will rub your back."

Zaves nodded silently, letting himself be guided out of the washroom, through the archway, and he looked around the quiet night life atmosphere that was the Infirmary. He looked around at the ones that slept soundly, under the Healer's protection from persecution, whether it be soldiers or prisoners or another. His eyes widened as he recognized the one sleeping in the bed to his far left and tugged on the Healer's tunic. "Is that Gadreel?"

"Yes." God's Healer looked over to the sleeping prisoner, they were making such progress, just the other day he had managed to pull a smile from them both. "He somehow managed to break free from his cell. Carried himself and his friend all the way here. They've been here for nearly two weeks now."

Zaveriel nodded, looking around again, smiling at the sight of his fledgling friends sleeping soundly surrounded by slumbering Powers. "They're here too?"

"They come with the same ailment you do too."

He spied Oren walking through the beds along the far right corner, pulling blankets up as he passed, kneeling to listen to whispers from hoarse throats, watching his patients sleep soundly under his protective watch. The Virtue must have finished the files, or given up on them, doing files was boring so he wouldn't blame him if he had given up on them. To the left, Zed stood at a work bench, mixing more tonics together, humming under his breath as he moved around the workshop area to gather the ingredients for the tonics he prepared. To their direct right, Ephraim and Constantine helped the patients under their care drink their sleeping tonics and tucked them in softly when the affects took hold immediately. They passed by Akriel, he reached over to ruffle his damp curls lightly, sparing him a comforting smile as they passed by his side, and the young messenger returned the smile with a small one of his own.

He was led to a made bed, warm blankets pulled down for him, fluffy pillows laying ready for him to lay on. A cup of water sat next to a mug of warm chamomile and sugar cane. "It seems your older brothers have noticed your arrival."

Zaveriel smiled. "They're the best."

"They'll be glad to hear that." He chuckled lightly and guided him forward to the bed. "Lay down, then, and I will rub your back."

The young messenger, the Healer's growing charge, parted from his side to lay overtop the warm thick blankets, sinking into the soft mattress with a sigh, and looked over at his older brother with pleading eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Raphael sat on the edge of the bed. "I already said I would." He leaned forward, digging the heels of his palm into the tense muscles under his shoulders, and Zaveriel groaned in comfort. He arched into the touch as he slowly massaged his way down to his lower back, digging his thumbs into the tense muscle. Zaves sighed deeply, curling around, pressing his nose into the side of the archangels outer thigh.

The Healer stroked his fingers through the damp curls under him. "You're safe here, my little fledgling, no one will take you from me."

"I was so scared, Rapha, they stormed the Aerie and we all split up."

He hummed over his charge's head. "And you thought to run here?"

"I knew that if you took me in nobody could take me there."

"You are correct in knowing that." He tugged lightly at his earlobe. "No one can touch you now." He hummed deeply. "No one would dare to."

"That's because you're so terrifying when your angry."

"I take that as a compliment, I think."

Zaveriel smiled against his leg, he felt it, and he returned the gesture even without the younger angel seeing it, scratching lightly at his scalp. "Sleep comfortably, you are a patient of mine, no one would dare take you from my custody."

"But what if the Commander and the Wardens come."

"Do you not think he hasn't tried to come for his Powers?" He looked up at them, sleeping soundly, curled together as though a pack of fledglings, their two youngest curled around their Captain. "Not even he would dare take someone from me." He paused his scratching, curling his fingers over the side of his head lightly. "If they are safe in my custody, then you most certainly are, they would have to strike me down before they took any of you from me."

Raphael scratched lightly at the side of his neck, and he scrunched up just a bit, pulling away from the archangel's thigh. "Straighten up now, lay on those pillows there, you need to sleep." Fingers curled around his wrist when he lifted the blankets up to tuck under his chin, and he curled his fingers around the smaller hand, raising it up to press his lips to the back of it. "There is no need to be frightened, my little one, you are among family. You are protected here." He rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin of the back of the young messengers hand. "Would you feel better with one of your older brothers staying with you?"

He knew the young messenger would prefer to have him close, but Zaves knew that he had many duties to attend to around the Infirmary, there was paperwork he must complete to keep his older brother out of his way and complacent in his war drunk mind, and the younger messenger would settle for any one of them.

Zaveriel nodded his head quietly. His guardian smiled at him, and nodded to his silent request, squeezing his fingers as he looked up.

"Akriel?" The Virtue looked up at the sound of his name, reading through the files of the patients under his care, and closed the one he had been looking through. "Would you please come stay with your younger brother."

Zaves watched him, hopeful that he would say yes, as he stood from the desk he had been sitting at. Tracking him as he stepped around the edge of the desk, crossing over to meet at their side, and gave a nod of affirmation. "I'll stay with you, baby brother." Raphael smiled in appreciation, he would stay by his side himself, but he must complete those files for his older brother's complacency. He passed the young messengers hand over to his brother, and Akriel lifted it to press his lips to the smooth skin of the back of the hand, stepping to the side for a moment as the Healer stood from the edge of the bed for him to take up the post himself.

The young messenger scooted to the side as the Virtue sat next to him, still holding onto his hand, and leaned back against the pillows. "Come here, baby brother, I've got you." He lifted his arm slightly, and the younger angel slid underneath it, coming out to lay his head on his chest.

Akriel rubbed his thumb over the back of his smaller hand, their fingers still curled together, and scratched at the side of his head with his free hand.

Raphael smiled at them both, leaning over to kiss the side of his young charge's temple. "Try to sleep, little one, your brother won't leave your side."

The Virtue nodded. "I'm here, baby brother, close your eyes for me." Zaves stared ahead for a moment, before he complied, closing his eyes lightly, sinking down against his brothers chest, they knew how to calm him down peacefully, they knew how to make him sleepy. That's what big brothers were for. Akriel pulled him closer, scratching softly at his scalp, and he sighed in comfort. "Go to sleep, baby brother, I've got you."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Raphael stepped away as Zeb joined them, finished with his tonics, and smiled down to the young messenger in greeting. "It's alright, baby brother." He took up the mug of chamomile and sat on the edge of the bed. "We'll take care of you."