"They're all going to kill you."
For someone who had been taken captive, the fledgling angel didn't look alarmed, and Crowley found her lack of fear at his presence to be on the annoying side. His mother was watching from the sidelines, she had never met the little brat before, and he only hoped she wasn't having second thoughts on this whole matter.
The throne of Hell was rightfully his, he had even ascended to it, he'd taken Hell's rightful king as his prisoner, treating him as his own little lap dog. He was meant for the ruling, not some demon ranked under him, and he would ensure his place on the throne.
Akeelah seemed unbothered by his attempt at intimidation "Please, have you seen Michael when he's mad at you, that's scary. You're just annoying." She smiled up at him in the way children do when they know they have the upper hand in whatever obstacle they faced "And he's going to be so mad!"
"Be quiet you brat!" he backhanded her across the face, her head spinning at the sudden attack, and he ignored his mother's gasp from behind him "Your beloved brother isn't even here." The fledgling angel had tears welling in her eyes from the sting, turning to look back at him again, and her eyes drifted up over his shoulder "Micha! He hit me!"
He had misinterpreted his mother's gasp at his action of smacking a child, and regretted it a tad, he had gotten one over on the Morningstar, and even than that had been from his weakened state, but this was the Prince. God's Sword. Even he had heard of the oldest archangels fondness for this fledgling, though he had never once thought of the chance he himself may come to retrieve her from whomever dared take her from him, and of course the entire supernatural world knew of his violent temper when one whom he was fond of was harmed.
"He did indeed, I witnessed it with mine own eyes, does your cheek sting?"
"It hurts, Micha!"
He moved with ease across the room, his mother had already been taken down, held in place against the stone wall with the ease of having the amount of power Michael had, it was merely a spec of power that resided in him to hold her prisoner where she was.
Crowley didn't stand a chance, he tried to defend himself, but the Sword was the best warrior in this Universe and the next. He choked on the air, trying to take in a much desired breath of air, as fingers curled around his throat.
The tall Archangel lifted him from his feet, leaving him kicking for purchase, struggling in his unyielding grip. He hung him there, midair and struggling a futile way, and left him there as he turned his attentions to the fledgling chained to the stone chair in the dungeon that they resided in. Michael melted the chains rather easily, a single tap of his finger, and took hold of her chin gently to turn it for a better angle of the damage done.
"Nothing too bad, baby sister, just a bit red."
He took her into his arms, settling her to perch on his hip, as he stood to face his own prisoner. Crowley was still kicking when he stepped back around into his vision, but he stopped once he returned, staring down at the might Archangel with rare fear shining in his eyes.
"You struck my dearest fledgling, Crossroads Demon."
"I sh'ld be k'g!"
"Alas, we can't all get what we want, you should be thanking me for my mercy." He smiled at the crossroads demon, looking down to the fledgling sitting on his side, she smiled back up at him and giggled when he poked her in the belly playfully "Her Choir Master wanted to come get her himself. I talked him down. He would have torn everyone to pieces, inch by inch." Michael turned back up to face the demon "I could not let him do that in front of the fledgling."
He felt fear settle into his stomach when the archangel smiled at him then.
"So, I said I would come to retrieve her, and thus, here I am. Now we take our leave. So that my brother may come to visit."