He turned at the familiar sound of a wooden staff clapping against the stone flooring of his temple, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of him, even the concern shining in his bright blue eyes.

"Anubis, I got your message, what's happened?"

The Egyptian shrugged, completely out of the loop, no one knew what had happened, not even the servants that she was closest to. All he knew, is that she had run into his throne room, while he had been dealing with his godly duties, crying into her hands. He'd stood from his throne, tried to call out to her, to find out what had broken her heart so terribly, but she had ignored him and continued running away. He'd followed her all the way to her room, where she had slammed the door shut behind her, and undoubtedly jumped into her bed.

Where she stayed.

"I don't know, man, she just ran in crying and slammed the door shut behind her." He gestured to the closed doorway they stood before. "I didn't think it was my place to pry, so I called you."

The archangel nods in appreciation, "Thank you, Anubis, I will tend to this." He spares him a look. "You go return to your duties. It'll be alright."

"Okay, cool, okay." The deity nods his head quickly, "Just, tell me if there's anything I can do to help, okay, she means a lot to me."

"I will."

"And tell me if I need to kill anyone. I'll do it."

He pauses, turning to look at his Egyptian charge over his shoulder. "That is not an option."

"I mean," the youth shrugs lightly. "It is though. I'm just saying. I'd do it."

"You are not killing anyone."

Anubis shrugs again. "I'd have no problems doing it."

"Anubis, you are not killing anyone."

The deity smiles at him, it's not a smile he's fond of, and it brings him pause. "Just let me know." And turns to walk away, quite possibly so he could claim deniability against anything he says next. "Anubis! You are not!" He knows the deity heard him because he throws his hands up dramatically in a large shrug.

Sighing deeply, wondering to himself silently when he procured two children, the archangel turns back towards the room that holds his most treasured gem behind it. Grasping the door handle slightly, he twists it open, peering in the room for any sign of an audience.

The curtains are drawn closed, casting the room in a dark shadow, things are strewn about as though they were thrown in a fit of passion. There are torn pages scattered across the floor, ripped to pieces, a ceramic lamp laying shattered against the wall next to the door.

Then there's the mound in the bed. Curled under the blankets. The only sign of it being a living being was the curls that poked out from under the silken covers.

"Go away, Anubis."

He sighs again, he knew these things would come when he found himself with a daughter to care for, and he had promised himself he would be ready to mend the broken heart. Stepping into the dark room, he closes the door behind him, leaning his staff against the wall beside it. Crossing the room silently, the Healer sits on the side of the bed, the mound shifts at the added weight next to it. He pets the curls that poke out of the bed, the top of her head, tugging at them lightly.

"What happened, my little one?"

There's a soft beat of silence. "Dad?"

"I'm here, baby girl, tell me what happened."

There's a soft sniffle and the mound shifts, the blankets pulled down slowly from over his daughter's head, revealing her teary eyes and red cheeks for him to see. "Daddy." She crawls forward slightly, scooting closer, and lays her head in his lap. He strokes her curls back, curling them back around her ear gently, brushing his fingers over her forehead. "Talk to me, my child."

"It hurts, daddy."

"What does, my sweet child?"

She curls her fingers under her chin, sniffling again. "My heart."

"Broken hearts are very serious matters."

"Daddy," she nods into his leg lightly. "Am I too much?"

"Too much?"

She nods lightly. "Am I too independent?"

He hums softly, stroking a finger over her cheek. "You are perfect just the way you are." The archangels fingers are warm as they glide down her cheek to her chin. "Is that what that boy said to you?"

"We got into another argument."

"Oh, my little Iaso." Raphael rubbed her upper arm tenderly. "Why do you insist on going back to him?" Rubs the back of his fingers over her cheek. "You are too good for him."

"Because, daddy, I love him."

"You are too young to know what love is." She sniffles softly. "Please let him go. It pains me deeply to see you so distraught."

She nods. "Okay, daddy." She finally peeks up at him, and he strokes a finger under her eye, catching a tear as it falls, giving a comforting smile. "Will you smite him, daddy?"

The archangel chuckles lightly. "You know I would do anything for you." Stroking a finger down her nose. "But you know I can't smite him."

"Do you think Anu would kill him?"

"What is it with you two?" He shakes his head fondly. He adores them both. "No, we are not taking his life."

Iaso nods softly, rubbing at her nose, and he tugs at her sleeve. "Come, sit up. You are not going to stay in the darkness of your room any longer." The archangel stands when she sits up, sitting in a curled up mound on her bed, the blanket draped over her shoulders. He strides across the room and throws the curtains open, they both squint at the sudden onslaught of brightness, and he peers out at the scenery from her grand bedrooms windows, turning to smile at her.

She tries for a smile, but its more pitiful then happy, and he tilts his head fondly as he strides back to her side. He holds his hands out for her. "Come on, we're getting you up." She sniffs and nods, reaching a small hand up for one of his, and he gently guides her to her feet, pulling her into a warm embrace. "You don't need such a fool in your life, my girl, you are too good for him." Iaso nods quietly, trying for another smile as she pulls away, and he pulls her close into his side as he turns. "Let's go see Anu, he was quite worried about you."

"I threw a lamp at him."

"I wasn't going to bring it up."

She giggles softly, a wet soft giggle. "You're the best, daddy."

He smiles at the sound of her soft giggle, despite how watery it is, and leans over to his left for his staff. "Where do you think you get your best qualities from?"

"Mom."

"Your mother was a wonderful woman."

Iaso gives a small smile, tugging her blanket more snuggly around her shoulders, as they quickly descend on the throne room. Anubis looks up at their appearance, walking down the side hall towards him, and waves the servant at his side away as they approach. Standing from his throne, he takes the stairs two at a time to meet at their side, meeting the young Nephilim with a hug at the ready.

She leans against him, sniffling pitifully into his shoulder, and he hugs her close and tight. "I'm sorry, shoqeiqa al-tafl."

"It's okay, Anu." She nuzzles closer into his shoulder. "I asked daddy if you could kill him and he said no."

"I'd do it!" He presses his cheek to the side of her head. "You're dad's denial be damned. You want me to kill 'em, I'll do it."

The archangel crossed his arms before him, raising an eyebrow. "You will not."

"I'd do it when he wasn't around so I could claim deniability."

"You can't now. I know now."

Iaso giggles again, pushing away from her adopted older brother. "You don't have to kill him, Anu." She pats his chest lightly, and he catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. "Sorry I threw a lamp at you."

"Me too, you could have hit this handsome face."

"It's not that handsome, Anu."

"I take offense to that, Ia."

The Healer shakes his head, intervening before they really got into it, pulling them apart gently. Iaso tucks herself back in his side, and he rubs at her arm lightly, lifting his chin slightly as he gazes upon the Egyptian. "We are going up for a bit. You had better not do anything to him, Anubis."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, don't get your trousers in a twist." He smirks at him lightly. "I won't do anything."

The archangel and Nephilim walk together out to the atrium garden, where she curls into her father, his arms curling around her tightly. "Are you ready?" Iaso nods curling her arms around his front as tight as she can, bending in time with him when he bent slightly at the knee, feeling the air shift as he opens his wings wide, and then he thrusts them into the air. She peeks out from her arm, over his, as the ground grows smaller and smaller, the shift in color and atmosphere as they break through the barrier, and takes in the bright colors of her father's home. They glide over the training field, she sees someone look up at them, shielding their eyes from the bright sun. Over the Choirs Pantheon, their voices echoing melodically in her ears, bodies running about under them. They fly around the Aerie, someone waves up at them, and she curls closer to her father.

The Infirmary is a looming welcoming building, like Anubis's temple is, and he lands in one fluid motion, bending at the knee once again. Brightly clothed healers move around them, others come and go through the entrance, smiling at them in greeting. The Healer rubs at her arm lightly, gesturing for her to follow, and she tugged the blanket around her shoulders closer, nodding softly as he lead her into the Infirmary.

Healers smile as they pass, waving in greeting, whispering words of welcome.

She looks over as he gestures to another figure, bent over a desk as they wrote something in a file opened in front of a younger angel, talking softly to the other, instructing them softly. "Why don't you go see your older brother. He always manages to cheer you up, even in those rarely seen situations that I can't."

Iaso nods, curling the blanket up over her head, and stepped away from his side to cross through the threshold to meet at the others. Blanket and all, she bent slightly, and curled her arms around them. "Hey, Ori."

The writing comes to a stop, the scratching of the quill against the parchment stopped, and she felt him turn slightly, no doubt to look over at the interruption. "Hey, baby girl, give me a minute?" Iaso nods, refusing to let him go, and to accommodate their position, he stands, curling his arm around her lower back in turn. He was still bent forward slightly, but he pulled the file closer so that he could write in it easier, with the young Nephilim curled into his side. "Okay, Ishmael, give him three vials of muscle relaxer, Zed's just about finished with them, and he's free to go on his way. Make sure he comes back next week to get it looked over once again." The young healer in training nodded, darting off to report his orders, and Oren turned his attention to the Nephilim curled around him. "Oh, baby girl, did you guys get in a fight again?"

The Virtue curls his other arm around her, tugging her around, and pulls her in close with a warm embrace. Iaso nuzzles closer, feeling his bristled chin rub against the side of her forehead, he presses a kiss to her temple. "Don't go back to him, this time, you don't deserve being as hurt as he makes you."

"But I love him, Ori."

"You're too young to know what true love is."

The Nephilim sniffles. "You love me, right?"

"With all my heart, baby sister."

"And, I'm not too independent?"

"You're perfect just the way you are."