1. "You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?!"

Heads turned at the exclamation from the Healer, and as the Messenger flinched away from him, pulling his infected arm closer, but the older archangel was having none of it as he reached back out and snagged the appendage back up again.

"You didn't think it was that bad!?" Are you looking at it, Gabriel!"

The Messenger flinched back at having his name spoken in such a manner, and nodded at his older brothers question, following when he's pulled through the hustling healers to an empty bed to be pushed down on. His brother is silent as he focuses on his task, disinfecting the gash on his arm, cleaning the debris out from within, and binds it to keep outside infections from getting back into the freshly scrubbed wound.

He thanks his older brother quietly, hoping to skirt by, when his ear is snagged up and brings him to a complete halt.

"What did I say would happen if this happened again, baby brother?"

"Bu—Please Raph! It was a bad mistake! Please!"

"Go get my belt."

"Not in front of everyone!"

"Go get my belt."

2. "You've had worse. You'll live."

Oren snorted when the messenger collapsed onto the bed next to where the Healer stood, letting free a quite dramatic sigh, and let his hands flop to the mattress underneath him. His attention turned to his archangel next, amusement dancing in his eyes when he didn't so much as flinch from what he was doing, kneeling to get a better look at the wound to the wing he had been working on for quite some time.

He did grunt softly when the weight of the young messenger collapsed over his back, arms falling over his shoulders, another dramatic sigh was released, and he finally paused in his ministrations to pat the left hand that dangled closest to his chest.

"You've had worse." And he returned to what he was doing "You'll live."

3. "If you pass out, I'm not going to catch you."

Despite his ill he was, the messenger refused to allow himself to be confined to a bed, thus, with a fever raging through his body, he followed all of those around the infirmary that he could manage to follow. He swayed and wobbled, stumbling along, but managed by a mere limb.

Oren elbowed his archangel in the ribs when the messenger eventually made his way to them, and the Healer turned to look to him first, with a raised eyebrow, and then to the ill messenger under their care.

"I told him to stay in bed."

He addressed the messenger completely, crossing his arms, watching intently as the younger swayed rather dangerously.

"If you pass out, I'm not going to catch you."

4. "You better have a really good reason for being out of bed."

The door creaking open after the cover of darkness had fallen pulled him from the files he'd been working on, bright blue eyes turned to look up at the one who had entered his office, and they widened at the sight of the young one standing in the doorway. His hair was messy from the bandages wrapped around his head, and he had to grasp at the doorframe to keep from falling over, but he stood there resolutely.

"Zaveriel!" He stood from his chair in quick fashion, stepping around his desk with equal likeness, and caught him as he fell forward when his strength seemingly gave out. "You better have a really good reason for being out of bed."

The messenger curled into his arms, fingers tucking into the folds of his robes, and he pressed his face to the Healer's chest. "Ca't sl'p."

"You came all this way because you couldn't sleep?" he wrapped his arms around him more securely, "You could have told someone as they did their rounds. You hardly needed to risk walking all this way."

"B't I w'nt'd y'o."

He heaved a fond sigh, "Let's return you to your bed." There was a soft mumble that came from his robes "Yes, I will lay down with you."

5. "I told you that would pop your stitches! Did you listen? No!"

The messenger flinched as the fine needle poked into his side again, not as gentle as it had been the first time it was done and listened only just to the ranting from his old guardian. He hadn't thought that a simple errand would cause this much damage. He hadn't wrestled with anyone, had divebombed anyone, he'd been as careful as one could possibly be.

"Ow! Raph!"

"I told you that would pop your stitches! Did you listen? No!" he tugged on the thread a tad harder then necessary "So keep quiet and let me finish."

6. "I can stick this thermometer in your mouth or I can stick it somewhere less pleasant. It's up to you."

A fevered messenger was not a fun messenger to contend with, but he was well adept in his ways and when it came to tending to ailing messengers, he was one of the few who had helped raise the Messenger, thus he knew his way around the few blocks there was to travel when it came to an ailing messenger.

Especially when it came to the other messenger he had raised, this one was particularly stubborn, and he stood at the foot of the messengers bed with his arms crossed. The Healer reached for thermometer from the one trying to administer the reading, and they stepped away at the wave of his fingers.

The messenger glared at him, mouth firmly closed, as if to meet the challenge of having his temperature.

He knelt to meet his eyes, "I can stick this thermometer in your mouth, or I can stick it somewhere less pleasant." Zaveriel's eyes went wide and his older guardian nodded "It's up to you."

7. "I don't think I even need to say I told you so…But I told you so."

When Lucifer came to him with a blade sticking through his shoulder, he heaved a sigh, pinched his nose, playfully glared at those who found his current predicament amusing into silence, and gestured for the older archangel to follow him.

He had told him, told him hundreds of times, not to go aid those human hunters on his own. He would have gladly gone with him, Gabriel would have, Michael would have, but the Morningstar had been adamant that he could deal with them all on his own, and he was only going to be gone for an hour at the most.

They all knew that they still detested him, taking every available opportunity to tell him so, thus the reason they all went with him on those ridiculous missions that Father assigned, more so for the Morningstar's own wellbeing then the humans.

He gripped the end of the blade, secured his brothers shoulder, "I don't think I even need to say I told you so…."

"So, don't."

"I told you so."

8. "I am not sleeping in here with you. You snore when you're congested."

He knew at the exact moment those eyes turned to him, bright and hopeful, clouded with just a bit of fever, and that lower lip poked free that he was going to find himself a goner for the little thing that had Heaven's four archangels wrapped around her little finger.

Raphael pointed a finger down to her, "Now, don't give me that look , I'll sit here but nothing more."

The little head tilted to the side, and she gave a pitiful sniffle of her stuffy little nose, "P'ease RaRa."

"I am not sleeping in here with you." Though he felt his resolve crumbling even as he spoke the words, "You snore when you're congested."

"P'ease big bear?"

He heaved a sigh, knowing he was going to give in the moment she turned those big starry eyes on him and that little lip started quivering, "Oh, fine, I'll lay with you." She smiled at him as brightly as one with a cold could, and scooted over for him to lay next to her, lifting his arm for her to snuggle underneath and into his side. "But this stays between us."

"T'anks b'g b'ther."

"Go to sleep, little bear."

9. Drink it, or I'll pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat."

There was nothing worse then when one of his own came down with an ailment, became bed ridden, firstly, because it was one set of hands they were out on when it came to caring for their patients, and secondly, because they made the absolute patients.

He was at his wits end with him, honestly, he adored Constantine, but he was worse then a fledgling when it came to taking his medicines, and he would know, he was helping raise a fledgling and that pesky messenger still acted as though he was still one himself.

He took the bottle from the poor frazzled second year and sent them on their way, pointing a threatening finger to his Virtue "Drink it, or I'll pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat."

"Y'o Bl'ffing!"

Constantine soon figured out that the Healer was not bluffing, his medicine was forced into him none too gently and the Healer was smug about it.

"Now rest."

10. "You are not fine!"

Getting his oldest brother to get treated after a wound earned in battle was a trial all on its own. It took the combined efforts of the Morningstar and three Powers to get the archangel to the infirmary.

The big bad fearless archangel Michael was scared of going to the Infirmary.

Raphael was always alerted before hand so that he knew to be prepared, he'd mix a tonic to keep the oldest of them sedated while he worked, one couldn't attempt escape when sleepy (though he amends that to most after having raised Zaveriel—anything is possible with that one—he jumped out of his office window once), when he arrived, in a struggle of four rather powerful beings, he was quick in forcing his tonic down his throat and they kept him restrained until it took effect.

"Honestly" he would insist "I'm fine."

And he would respond with "You are not fine!" and smack him over the head, "Now shut up and let me work."