A red hot anger welled up inside her at the sight of the thing, the thing that had lashed into her skin all those years ago, it had left its mark as both a physical and mental lesson. Never again would she allow herself to be weak enough to be caught by it. Never again would she feel the sting.

Zaveriel was at her side as she bolted, he was the best friend a fledgling could ask for, and together they easily cut through the guards as they came at them, leaving them a bloody and semi unconscious pile on the floor.

Only one had managed to make their escape and they were sure it would come to bite them in the butt later, but right now they both had different goals in mind. Gone was the thought to help her best friend free his friend, gone was everything, the only thing that circled around in her entire being was to get her hands on that whip.

"You remember me, little rat?" Theo smiled at her, tauntingly, "Are you back for more so soon?"

Zaveriel screamed in rage, having made it to his friends side on the table and caught sight of his shredded back and at the thought that it was his best friend that the rumor was about. That the rumor was based on truth and this monster had dared to even lay an ill meant hand on two of his greatest friends. He screamed and spun, throwing the knife he had under his belt, he had the best aim out of his entire flock and the weapon met its mark in Theo's left shoulder.

The Warden screamed in pain and anger and raised his hand with the whip, intending to bring it down on the angel who dared think to raise a hand against him. But it didn't get far, and was pulled taught, silence filled the room at the one who managed to capture the whip before the lash could be delivered. Even on the table, the prisoner ('Gadreel' she reminded herself) looked over in surprise to see that a tiny little fledgling such as herself had managed to catch it and keep him from pulling it back.

The young messenger stared with his friend at the pair, even Theo was stunned silent, but Akeela was ready. She was always ready. She had promised Nisroc and Haniel that she would come to them if she needed help, and she may need help now, but this..? This was personal to her and she would do it on her own just like she did everything else.

You didn't survive by relying on others to do the work for you.

That was a lesson she was taught well and taught at an early age.

She used the moment to her advantage, daggers tucked into the belt cinching her robes, she yanked as hard as she could manage on the thin leather whip. It sliced into her hand and she hissed at the pain, but the desire to have the whip for herself was too great to let go of it now.

Zaveriel used the moment to his own advantage, cutting the ropes keeping his friend secured, he tugged him as gently as he could to his feet and called over his shoulder for the fledgling to follow as he hobbled as quickly as he could with the older angel practically hanging over him.

"Akeela lets go!"

"In a minute!"

The fledgling stared down at the whip, as it was pulled from the Warden's hand in his shock. This was the thing that had torn into her back, it had made her cry like she had never cried before, and left its permanent reminders on her skin.

It had nearly ruined everything.

She had stopped sneaking out for nearly a month and would have not have gotten to see her best friend before he was placed into another legion.

Her fingers curled around the wrapped end, the handle of the long whip, and she looked back up at the one who had so cruelly taken it to her and pulled her arm back.

Zaveriel watched her from the doorway, eyes wide, his friends peering under his soaked hair at the tiny fledgling that swung the whip as hard as she could and struck the Warden across the face. It left a thin red line, a cut from the bottom of his left cheek to the outer tip of his right eye. How the little thing had managed to get the whip around with such accuracy, the thing having to be at least one and a half longer then she was in length, was beyond them. But hatred was a good motivator.

"Do I remember you?", they weren't sure what was more frightening; the calmness the fledgling had about her as she swung the whip back around to lash another stripe into him or the way his shriek of pain only made her swing it harder, "I remember you!"

Zaveriel retreated as Theo tried to run for the door, the whip lashing another stipe across the back of his shoulders, the little one running after him as fast as she could. The Warden stumbled as he was continuously assaulted by the fledgling.

They tumbled out of the door of the Prison, Zaveriel struggling under the weight of his friend, and Theo stumbling to the ground as the fledgling continued to assault him with his own weapon.

"I remember crying!", she swung it back again, "I remember begging you to stop! And you only laughed!", Theo screamed as the whip lashed him again and again, and he curled up on himself to try and stave off the hits to his face. "You did it again and again and again! And I couldn't do anything!"

Zaveriel would have dropped under the weight of his friend had the large dark hands not taken most of the weight off from on top of him, and he turned to meet the gaze of the Healer as he pulled the wounded prison up into his side instead, bracing an arm around the angel's waist to keep him stable enough to not fall back.

The guard that had managed to escape had apparently gone to get the aid of the Commander and his Powers, the others must have noticed the younger angels absence because they came to investigate.

All eyes were focused on the fledgling whipping the Warden over and over again, as tears streamed down her face, reliving that day right then and there in the moment, and swung the whip with as much force as she could muster.

"I remember you! And you're going to remember me!" I'm not weak anymore! You won't get me again! I'll lash you this time!"

Every word was followed by a blow with the whip, until her little hand started shaking and the hits got sloppy, Theo whimpered and curled in on himself. Akeela felt herself wearing out, the adrenaline of her anger slowly dissipating into the wind, and it was starting to get hard to see because of the tears streaming down her face.

"You're the coward!"

A hand caught hers just as she was about to unleash another strike and she struggled against it, looking up to meet the blurry face of the one who stopped her from getting her well earned revenge.

"Let it go little warrior. He is not worth your tears. He is not worth your thoughts. Let it go now."

She gave a soft scream, it was bit back and nearly swallowed, but she shook her head. Everything was coming back now, it was raining, it was nighttime, she was going to see Zaves and a pair of hands had snagged her up, the mean laugh, the hands that held her in place and the sting. It was all coming back and it was getting too much for the little fledgling.

"You did what to my fledgling?"

She sucked in a shaky breath at that voice, she knew that voice, it was the voice of the one who comforted the bad dreams away and sang to her when she couldn't fall asleep. It was the voice that had taken here away from her instructors who were mean because they didn't get it. It was the voice that was always there. Her choir master was there and Theo was choking on his own breath. She wiped at her eyes haphazardly and saw the familiar blonde head as he lifted the Warden clear off his feet.

Nisroc was here. Haniel was there. Danial, Titus, Abraxos, Camael, Puriel, Raguel, they were all there. Michael was pulling Lucifer away from Theo and Gabriel was helping Zaveriel and Raphael get Gadreel away from there.

She looked up into Nisroc's eyes, they were sad and full of regret, Theo had been disgraced from the Power's when word had spread that he had whipped a fledgling angel.

The Power wasn't angry, he wasn't made, over his shoulder she could see Michael finally coaxing Lucifer into putting Theo down, Haniel was there when the Warden was set down to his feet and punched him in the face hard enough to crack the cheek bone and send him spiraling backwards to the ground. Michael made no move to reprimand him.

"Let me have it. Let it go little warrior. We are here now. Let us take it from here."

"He-He-He!"

There was that sadness again, "I know little warrior. Please, do you trust me?", Akeela sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, looking down at the big hand that was outstretched to her, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the whip as she held it out to deposit in his hand. His fingers curled around the handle and he passed it back to Titus, away from the reach of the broken fledgling.

Tears sprang to her eyes again and she leaned forward for the Power, Nisroc met her halfway and curled his arms around her small shaking frame, her sobs broke the gathered angels at the anguish that she held in through silent echoing agony.

He stood with her cradled close, Titus and Abraxos closing ranks around their leader and honorary fledgling Power, the others filling the crack in the ranks. Their leader closed his eyes, and the ones to her back closed theirs, when his fingers skimmed over the scars on her shoulders. Haniels knuckles popped as he clenched them in desire to punch the Warden again. Puriel and Camael looked away from them in pained silence. Raguel squeezed at his shoulder lightly in silent support.

They broke apart only when the Commander gave the soft command to do so, stepping into their protective circle, hands raised to take the fledgling from his Second in Command. Akeela easily transferred herself from the Power to her oldest brother. Michael held her close to him, pressing her softly into his shoulder, not speaking a word as she clung onto him and sobbed her little heart out.

"Nisroc, Titus, ensure that our traitor finds his way to his cell."

"But Sir-"

"I do not know the condition he is in now and I will expect a full report on the matter later."

It was a blanket permission of they ever heard one and Nisroc nodded to Camael and Puriel and they hefted the moaning Warden to his feet. Abraxos and Raguel stepped up behind them and together they ensured that their disgraced brother made it to the cell that was waiting for him.

Michael turned, getting the others back to their duties with a mere look, stroking the back of the fledglings head softly. They walked, he walked them down the steps of the Prison and away from it's looming darkness, and he whispered soft nothings into her ear when her sobs finally started to settle down.

"Oh my little one, you have suffered so much, and I am so sorry."

He rocked his arm slightly, not minding when a warm little nose pressed into the crook of his neck, he merely reached over to rub her cheek with his thumb.

"We will make it better. Just give us the chance to?"

Akeela sniffled pitifully and nodded softly, she was sleepy now, and wanted to just be held now. Michael was happy to accommodate her desires.

"Hush little one, I've got you, we've got you."