The Morningstar held her little hand in his own, staring at her still form in the bed, it made her look so small, the big pillow under her head, surrounded by blankets of off-white texture. Behind him stood his oldest brother, his hand on his shoulder in comfort, whispering over his head with the Healer on the condition that their little fledgling was in.

On her other side was the Captains; all four, seated in chairs in various positions as though to guard her from anyone who may get too close, in her most vulnerable state.

It had been three weeks since the accident, since the pillar on the building they had been working on fell on her, it had been a week since the Messenger had spoken a word, a week since the Morningstar had even breathed in his direction, it had been him who had told her to stand out of the way next to that pillar.

Her curls proofed around the bandages wrapped around her head, her delicate little hand that lay limply in his was pale, after having been washed clean of the blood that had painted her skin red. Her other hand was secured in a molded cast, broken horridly from her trying to stop the pillar from hitting her, it hadn't done much protecting to her small form, and it had taken the entirety of the Powers and half of the Principalities, the Morningstar and the Viceroy, to lift the thick stone pillar for the Healer to pull her free.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, turning to look over his shoulder, his eyes burned as he held back tears. They had whispered, trying to make it so that he wouldn't hear, but he had, he had heard everything.

"You don't know if she'll ever wake up?"

They both looked stricken, and it looked as though it pained the Healer when he nodded his head, confirming his worst fear.

…

Raphael hummed to her, muttering to her under his breath as he changed her bandages, checked on her shattered arm, and readjusted her position to avoid stiffening of the muscles. He knew that it was best to make noise, talk to her, let her know that they were there, to give her a reason to come back, and that was something he had told them all.

So, he hummed, because he knew that she liked it, whenever she slept with him in his room at the villa, she always asked him to hum to her before she fell asleep, and he did so rather happily, anything that made their fledgling happy was something they would do.

Within reason of course.

He hummed as he fluffed the pillow under her head, he hummed as he forced liquids down her throat, he hummed as he changed out the blankets for new ones.

And she remained as still and silent as ever.

…

Nisroc told her all about the day he had, every day when he came to visit, sometimes he brought Sasha and Paul with him, and they told her about their day as well. With him he brought lilies and lilacs, he knew they were her favorite flower, and around her he draped the cloak that she had returned to him for strength that could only be given by presence now.

He told her of the others, how they all asked about her, and waited on bated breath for the moment that news reached them that she had woken again. He told her about the trainees, as she liked to go around riding on his shoulders to watch them bluster and fall, all in due time came the skill they would soon possess, him tickling at her feet when she tugged on his hair as she bent forward to laugh at those who dropped their wooden swords, and Abraxos would smile in fond exasperation as she embarrassed his new squadron.

…

Kokabiel would braid her hair, telling her all about the adventures the Grigori had gone on while she was away, when the bandages around her head were safe to remove for good, and she would braid beads into her hair that had been collected on the Grigori's own travels around the earth, she had taken a particular liking to Africa, and most of her beads came from villages there.

She'd share story after story about their doings, the new projects that Semyaza was working on, the others waiting for news that she had woken up again, how she needed her to wake up again.

…

Michael read to her, in that soft voice that projected so much love and protection, from the book of stories he's read to many a fledgling in his time. He'd read to her pages upon pages, knowing somehow that she heard him reading to her, and would only stop when the Healer placed a hand on his shoulder to tell him night had fallen. He would kiss her on the temple, make sure the blankets were tucked around her snugly, and set the book down on the bedside table to return to in the morning.

…

Lucifer took it the worst out of all of them, he never strayed from her side, always sat at her right, holding her little hand in his. She was the only fledgling who had the privilege of hearing the Morningstar sing for them, it was their shared moment, only theirs, but if others heard as he did, he didn't seem to mind. His singing was for the fledgling, and his attention was for the fledgling, he sang any song he knew to her just so he knew that she could hear his voice.

Nearly a month after the accident, and they were beginning to lose hope that she would wake, the Morningstar half asleep at her side, his hand still curled her limp one, when he felt it. It was a slight thing, but it had him wide awake at a moment's notice, jumping into a straightened position, he captured the attention of the Infirmary as a whole at the suddenness of it.

Her hand had moved.

"Raph, Raphael!"

The Healer was at his side in a moments call, "What is it?"

"She moved, I swear it, she moved!"

He sighed, "Brother I kno—"

Three fingers twitched, once, for them both to see, and he fell silent as they twitched again, and then the whole hand twitched. Her little fingers curled, sluggishly, but they curled against the Morningstar's fingers.

"Is she—?"

"She is trying to wake up.", they both stood, on either side of the fledglings bed, the Healer touched a light hand to her cheek, "Come now, little bear, let me see those beautiful eyes again." Her face scrunched softly, more than they had seen from her in a months' time, and it was a miracle at its finest, "That's it, baby sister, open your eyes for me." Her eyes fluttered softly, "There you go, a little more, just a bit more." And then they opened. The Morningstar choked on a sob, collapsing in the chair next to her bed, watching as she looked around with wide unfocused eyes, they were slow in coming back to normal, and would be for some time.

The Healer smiled down to her when her eyes focused on him, "How are you feeling?"

"H…ur…ts…"

"I can fix that." He kissed her on the nose, and even in this state, it still brought a small smile to her face, "I will be right back for you."

Her eyes slowly turned again, until they found her master, and she tried to slide her hand over for him, but it was harder than she thought it would be and thus only flexed her fingers for him to see. He immediately took her hand again, wiping away tears with his other, and gave her his sole attention.

"L…uci…d…don—"

The Healer returned with a cup for her to drink from, and he softly instructed her to do so, supporting her slightly upwards for her to down the mixture.

"Luci, don't cry."

"I can't help it," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, "I thought I'd never get to see those eyes again."

"Zaves says we're like roaches." He snorted wetly, "Hard to get rid of."