They watch at the open entrance of the Infirmary as another group attempts their way across the threshold into the safety that is offered within its walls, frowning at the struggles as they slam into the guards, their beaten fingers curling tightly around the staffs of their spears as they attempt to force their way in. The guards hack and slash and push and punch, attacking in any form possible to keep them from their goal of safety.

One guard manages to catch a limping angel as he runs as best as he could past him, spearing him in the side, it slows him up for a moment, but there is a determination in his eyes that's hard to come by these days, and he breaks the tip of the spear and continues on, managing to make his way forward, collapsing into the arms of two of his healers. They whisk him away.

A little one makes their way through the crowd again, ducking under legs and bumping into bodies, as they struggled to get through the crowd to the safety of the Infirmary. This was the chance they needed, the only one they'd get, and they'd do anything to make it there. She looked up at them, her eyes widening at the sight of the Healer kneeling for her, beckoning her forward with his hands, arms raised outstretched for her. She just had to run into them, had to get close enough for him to snatch her up, this was what she had waited for all this time, waited and watched, hiding in her hiding spot. She was almost there, just a few more paces, she could almost feel his long warm fingers curling around her middle as he lifted her from her feet.

She scream when a hand curled around her wrist, yanking her back, she looks over to the Healer in terror. He's still kneeling, urging her forward, waiting for her to fall into his arms. So, the fledgling girl yanked on her arm, surprising the guard who captured her, and she stumbles forward, tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision, as she runs for the only one who can keep them from taking her away.

And then she feels it, as she stumbles over her feet, she feels the hands snatch her up around the middle. The warm chest she's pressed to. The solid shoulder her head's guided to lay on. She feels the soft tunic he wears, smells the ozone and pine needles he smells like, hears the soft thrum of his electrifying grace under her ear.

He turns, she feels it, and the sounds of the yelling guards fade as they walk away. "You're alright now, I've got you." She looks up at him with wide eyes and he smiles, leaning forward to kiss her nose, and she scrunches up her face at the soft playful peck. "Let's see that wrist." He holds his free hand out, palm up, fingers spread. His other arm curled under her bottom, fingers curled around her thigh, and she tenderly sets her little hand into his.

The Healer tsk's as he examines the little appendage. "Just a bit of a bruise. It'll fade with time." He tucks her hand up against her chest. "And you'll have all the time you need here. We'll get you cleaned, fed, and rested."

"You have food?" There's awe in her tone and it breaks his heart. "That I can eat?"

"Yes, we most certainly do." He nods in assurance. "Stew. Perfect for a cool brisk night like this one." Raphael brushes a finger down the bridge of her nose, taping the tip of it lightly, and she smiles slightly. "We'll get you a new tunic to wear, you're much too small for the trousers, and cleaned up. Then, we'll get you a nice warm bowl and a soft bed."

She nods softly and he smiles gently. "What's your name, little one?"

"Haziel."

"That's a pretty name." The archangel pokes her in the belly. "For a very pretty fledgling."

Haziel giggles softly when he pokes her in the belly again, pressing closer to his chest, and he chuckles softly at her reaction. "My, my, someone's got a sensitive tummy." He wiggles his fingers over it, and she giggles brightly, squirming softly on his arm, and he carries on for a minute longer before letting go. "Those giggles are quite heartwarming."

She watches as he turns his attention away for a moment, reaching into the cupboard they've come to stand before, taking one of the soft tunics in hand and tucks it under the arm that holds her as he reaches back in for a large drying towel. He gives her a wink. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Her eyes try and take everything in when it comes to her new surroundings, she's never been inside the Infirmary before, and she wants to take it all in from the safety of the Archangels arm. Healers smile at them as they pass, carrying on their duties, even a few of the Virtues smile in greeting to her, and she ducks into the older angels shoulder when they do, as any shy child was wont to do.

After she's bathed, she's settled at a table, a warm blanket curled around her shoulders and a bowl of stew the perfect size for a fledgling is set in front of her. A big, warm hand settles on her head. "Eat up, little Haziel." She nods excitedly, her little fingers curling around the spoon just a bit too big for her and scoops a piece of potato up and into her mouth, munching on it happily. He chuckles in amusement, stroking his hand down the back of her head. "I'll be right over there, if you need me."

It's one of those days that they stand watching the guards keep those who need them from entering, whether it be from real need or simple desire remains to be seen, but they're needed none the less, and it kills them to watch their would be patients be carried off to the Prison for doing what they knew they needed to do.

It catches them all by surprise, the guards and healers alike, when one of the guards finally drops from his stone like position. His spear clatters to the ground, and he turns from his place, walking up the remaining stairs to the doors of the Infirmary. He doesn't meet the Healers eyes, though he knows his arms to be crossed, looking down to his feet.

"What can I do for you?"

There's no spite in his tone, the Healer is to good for that, but the anger that rumbled deep in his chest is clear.

"I come to ask if you will take me in."

"I see," he feels the Healer adjust his position slightly. "And, what ails you?"

"My head."

"I see, and you wish for me to grant you a place among my patients."

"I regret what I've done." He shakes his head. "I don't…I don't know why I did it."

"Let me see your head." The Healer curls a few fingers under his chin and tilts his head back, brushing sticky, sweaty hair out of his way, frowning as he gazes upon something, he had dreaded there would ever be a day he'd see it. "I'll find you a bed."

He curls his free hand over his shoulder and guides him inside, the only new patient taken in without the threat of being captured by one of the guards, being one himself, they were too surprised to stop him. "You look too young to be a guard, how old are you?"

"He's barely twelve years."

They turn at the new voice, standing there, his arms crossed lightly, is Titus. He smiles to the Healer in greeting, a gesture in which is returned just as kindly, he knew this guard rather well.

"Andreus."

"Titus."

He steps forward, the young angel, out from under his hand. Titus follows suit, his arms coming undone, raising them as they slowly meet each other. He wraps him in close, they sway from side to side as they clutch each other, the young angel pressing himself as close to the elder as he can.

"He's so young. What on earth is my brother thinking?"

Raphael smiles slightly at the two of them and the clear friendship they held, if he didn't know any better, he would have been brought to think that the Power had taken the young boy under his wing. He shakes his head, stepping forward, laying a hand on both of their shoulders, and they pull apart.

"Well, no more of that." He rubs a hand over the young guards hair and frowns as he pulls his hand away. "I think we'll get you bathed first. You're covered in sweat." He leans forward slightly in slight playfulness. "And, quite frankly, it's kind of disgusting."

"I can't help it."

"I know you can't." He eyes the thick chainmail in distaste. "That's much too heavy for this type of heat." He shakes his head lightly. "We'll get you out of that and into something lighter, we'll find a tunic and some trousers that'll fit that slight frame, and if not," he shrugs slightly. "Well, we'll just make it work."

The Healer gestures in the direction he wants them to go in. "Let's get you cooled down and cleaned up. Your skin is glistening. Skin should not glisten."

Andreus smiles slightly at his teasing tone of voice and follows him, Titus at his side once more, his Power curls his hand over his shoulder. A physical sign to show that he was there. The Healer is so much different then what he had expected him to be, he was expecting someone so much harsher, firmer, tougher, like his commander was. But the Archangel of Healing was nothing like that. He was kind, where his archangel was harsh, playful where his archangel was firm, and gentle where his archangel was tough.

He gestured to the dimly lit hall. "The washroom is just within. Take your time. There is no rush."

The youngling nods slightly. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir', I'm not nearly as formal as my brother is." He pat his cheek lightly. "And, you are most welcome."

"You seem to have them quite captivated."

They story stopped for a moment, the fledglings whining at the pause, having been hooked on every word he spoke. The Power Captain turned to look up at their new guest, smiling to the Healer in greeting, shaking his head in amusement. "We seem to live quite captivating lives."

"Niiiiissssss!"

They share a chuckle at the whine from the little fledgling girl.

"You'd best return to your story, then." Raphael shakes his head in amusement. "Before they begin to riot."