AN: The song that inspired this one is 'Stand Up ( from Harriet) by Cynthia Erivo. It's really good and I definitely recommend listening for this chapter, or after, its just really good.

After being captive so long in the Prisons, the screams having faded long ago from her ears, having become deaf to them, she spent as much time as she could curled into her guardians side, where he could protect her from the horrors around them. The guards did not care who they took down to the room at the end of the hall, so long as they got to play with someone, and the older angel was always ready to offer himself over the abuse of his little friend.

The times when he was unable to would haunt him for some time to come.

Her screams would always echo in his ears.

It was one of those times, where they had taken him, and she could hear his screams from down the hall, and she vowed then that no more of her people would hurt again, never again would they be at their nonexistent mercy, and she tugged experimentally on her captured arm, the chain from the manacle rattling against the stone wall, it strained but she felt the give it gave just the same. Gritting young teeth, she tugged her arm harshly against the manacle, and felt the skin on her wrist and hand rub free against the rusty metal manacle. Blood dripped down her knuckles as she stared at her freed hand, and she turned to face her next challenge; the bars of their cell. She eyed them critically as she came to stand directly before them, running a finger over the edges as though testing their texture.

She looked down to the thin prisoners robe they had been given at their admission, sucking in her belly, she turned to the side and stepped through the bars, a bit of a struggle but she managed to pull herself free. Standing on the outside of her cell, she was frozen in shock, unsure as to what to do now. Her plan had completely escaped her and now she had no clue as to what to do.

"Run."

Young eyes turned up sharply at the voice, meeting those of it's owner, "Zaves?"

The messenger nodded, leaning against the far wall of his own cell, he gave her a hopeful smile, "Run. Don't look back."

"I don't to leave you!"

She crossed to path quickly, little fingers curling around the bars of his cell, and he pushed away from the wall to crawl forward in order to meet her, and he reached a hand out from his cell to cradle her cheek.

"Run, my friend, before they see you." He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, "Go."

"I'll be back."

"No." he shook his head, "Don't ever come back."

"I'm gonna get you out." She nodded firmly, "I'm gonna get you all out."

"Akeelah, please," he begged softly "don't come back."

She shook her head again, stepping away from his hand, "I'll come back to free you."

He watched as she turned and ran, passed cells, watching as other prisoners stepped forward to watch the small fledgling run passed towards the exit.

Akeelah blinked at the sudden brightness from the sun above, holding a little hand over her eyes, she looked up to see it once again and smiled as it's warmth curled around her like it was a blanket. She ran barefoot down the stone stairs of the Prison, leaving bloody foot prints in her wake, a trail to be followed, unknowingly leading from behind her. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking around at those who were allowed to walk about the Axis, those who had not been declared as traitors by the Prince and Healer.

She decided it was best to run through the shadows, her robes would be easily recognized should anyone see her running freely through the massive avenue. She darted behind buildings and hopped between shadows as she made her way down the street towards her destination. The Prince and the Healer spent all of their time in the Throne room, it had been turned into a Headquarters of sorts since Father left, and it was either one of them or their captains that would hold a key to the cells.

Akeelah had promised to come back and she didn't make promises she couldn't keep.

She knew by now that they would have dragged Jeremiah back to their cell and saw that she was missing, that Theo would have dispatched the guards to come find her, and once they got the hounds involved, she would be as good as caught, and she would willingly go back so long as she had the key with her.

The fledglings little feet started aching some steps ago, but she pushed passed the pain, focused on her self-assigned mission, and came to stand at the steps to the mighty Throne room, staring up at the building that had once been the epicenter of such Peace and Love, now looked so different in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped up the first step, and then the next, leaving her bloody foot prints behind her as she quickly climbed the granite stairs that lead to the destination that her heart desired. As she drew nearer, she heard voices, she knew the voices of the Healer and Prince rather well, their captains too, her eyes widened at the sound of her master's voice, and at the Messengers joining in, and her breath caught when she heard the soft rumble respond to them all.

Shaking her head, ignoring the voices that sounded from within the Throne room, and due to her feet aching if she were to stand in one place for too long, the fledgling crept forward. Peeking around the edge of the door way, she saw all four archangels, the two Captains, and Father conversing the terms of the war being ended, the closest one to her was the Power. He had his back facing her, arms crossed over his chest as he responded to whatever had been asked of him. Her eyes spotted the key even from where she stood so far away from it, it hung on a hook from his belt, resting lightly on his right side.

Taking a deep breath, her feet aching from her scouting, the fledgling stepped as silently as she could into the Throne Room. Her feet left red prints behind her as she did, and she went unseen from the deep conversation that was being had before her, as she approached the Power from behind.

Nisroc started when he felt the slight tug on his belt, arms lifting in surprise, and he turned quickly to the right to see the fledgling jumping back away from him. He looked down to his side to see the purpose behind the tug, and looked back up to spy his key in those little hands, it had been their mistake in forgetting about those unjustly imprisoned when Father had returned with the four Commanders, and they had come to meet them.

They all turned at the commotion; the four archangels, Oren, Father and Aunt, they all turned to spot the young one clutch the key in her hands as tightly as she could and slowly step away from the Power as though waiting for him to jump for her. She stared right back at them, stepping back one step at a time, watching for any sudden movements.

Boots came running up the steps behind them, shouting of guards, and she spun to face them instead. Theo marched forward to take his prisoner back, and was stopped short "Let her be, Theo." His eyes met his Father's and he nodded without protest, motioning for his guards to halt behind him. The fledgling looked between them both unsure as to who she was meant to run from, and Father leaned forward in His throne for His young child, "Little Akeelah, you are free to come and go, there is no place for fear here."

He frowned when the fledgling shook her head, backing up a step again, and turned to bolt with the key in hand. She had made a promise that she intended to keep. They all watched her until she disappeared.

"I think, My sons," He turned to look back at them, noting proudly that His Healer had knelt to examine the bloody footprint that had been left in the fledglings wake, "That you may start there." They each nodded, turning to see the trail that had been left in the fleeing fledglings wake.

The Healer stood from the one he had been examining, "I want to see her feet." He turned to the Prison Warden curiously, "Why would one of your prisons be leaving bloody footprints in their wake?" he crossed his arms, awaiting his answer, "They were given to you for keeping, not for torturing, what has been done under our noses?"

Theo swallowed harshly.

Michael stepped up on the Healer's other side, his captain on his right shoulder, when it became clear that Theo was not going to be answering the question asked of him, "We shall see the state of the prisoners and take it from there, yes?" though he seemed unhappy that his question had went unanswered, the Healer nodded his assent, "Shall we, then?"

He ordered Theo to lead them back to the Prisons, and he did so with a noticeable amount of reluctance, and the Viceroy spared a glance with his captain and a small nod was shared between them, they walked as a caravan down the Axis towards the Prison, stopping short as a group slowly spilled from it's mouth. Limping and hanging from each other, they stared down at the group at the bottom of the steps. Before them stood the fledgling, the key curled tightly in the fingers of her right hand, and the both of them stared at each other in silence. The ones at the bottom of the stairs backed up a step, and the ones at the top took that as their given invitation, slowly ambling down the stone stairs to freedom.

Dirty, ragged, and wounded beyond belief, the prisoners limped and stumbled down the steps, led by the fledgling that had promised to free them and had kept to her word. The adrenaline had worn off from her adventure though, and she tumbled forward, the pain in her feet unbearable now that her mission was complete. She was caught up before she could hit the ground, into strong warm arms, that lifted her higher then Jeremiah could lift her, and she curled her fingers into the emerald robes of the one who had caught her.

There was only one that she know of who wore emerald robes.

Looking up, she met his eyes, and he smiled at her, "Let's get you all to the Infirmary."

…

The Infirmary was packed with prisoners, and the other healers had frozen at the sight of both, them, and their Healer returning to them, and quickly jumped back into their work at his gesturing to. They aided the limping ones to beds, carried ones who were not lucky enough to walk on their own to beds, and guided those who milled forward to beds, everyone from the Prison was escorted to a bed.

A messenger stepped through the mass, avoiding healers trying to accost him away, following after the rather large group containing four archangels, a Power, a Virtue, and his best friend. It was made somewhat more difficult with his friend hanging over his shoulder, Gadreel had gotten the worst of it, and could barely stand on his own, the two of them leaving the same trail of red footprints that most of the prisoners did.

They stopped trying to guide him away when it became apparent that he was not going to be moved from the direction he was heading in, and left him be to his own way. He watched as the Healer set his young friend down on an empty bed and knelt to look at her feet, smiling as he approached, "I told you not to come back."

Heads turned at his voice, but he ignored them, smiling to his friend on the bed.

Akeelah stuck her tongue out at him, "I told you I would free you."

"That you have, little savior is what you are, don't know how you managed to get that key and part of me doesn't want to."

"I took it from him." She pointed a finger to the Power, and the messenger turned to follow, their eyes met for a moment and they both turned away after a short minute.

Raphael let go of her foot at his appearance, leaning to the side to spy the same trail that led behind them, and stood in a quick rush, gesturing for the oldest archangel to help him guide his passenger to the empty bed on the fledglings left, healers rushed forward to see to the sentry as he was laid down with gentle ease. The Healer stopped before his old charge, hand slowly coming to caress his cheek, "Bumblebee?"

Zaveriel smiled at him, his hand coming up to touch the Healer's hand over his cheek, and his long nimble fingers curled around the back of his head to pull him forward. The messenger fell into the Healer's chest with a small sniffle, clutching to the front of his robes for a long minute, his shoulders heaving silently at his muted sobs as the protection that the strong warm arms curling tightly around him offered in his moment of weakness.

He guides him silently to the bed on the fledglings other side, easing him back into the pillows with soft words of assurance, and the messenger pulls himself back together with a strength unseen when he pulls away from the privacy of the Healer's chest.

"You lay here, I'm going to fix you all up," he brushed his hand over the others matted hair, "I'll make it better again." The archangel looked up and gestured for a few of the other healers to come over with sponges and basins of clean water, "We'll start first with a bath and then into some warmer robes."

Zaves nodded as the Healer bent to press his lips to his forehead, despite all the grime that covered it, and stepped away for two healers to step forward and help him from his prisoners robe so that he may be bathed down. He let them do most of the work, just too tired to care at the moment, and turned to watch his friends receiving the same treatment, laughing softly when Akeelah smacked the hands away from trying to undress her from her prisoners robes insisting that she could do it herself and when his old guardian objected to her stepping back down to her feet to do so, and they glared at each other until the fledgling huffed and nodded her assent for them to do what had to be done. Gadreel was much too weak to do anything, having taken the brunt of Theo's 'games', and he watched the Prince rather closely as he helped him sit up so that the healers may remove his tunic, and them his trousers, before he stepped back to allow the healer to give him the sponge bath that the younger archangel had called for.

They washed their wounds first; the whip marks on all three of their backs, the runes carved into Gadreel's shoulders, the slashes cut in the messengers lower legs, the small carving of the Morningstar's seal on the fledglings chest. And then refilled their basins to wash away the grime and dried blood, the soot and dried mud, leaving them pink and smooth skinned again. And, refilled for the third time, to take care of their feet.

It was rather painful, the first two layers of skin having been painfully peeled off, and the fledgling screamed a sob when the sponge touched her left sole.

Zaveriel grit his teeth through the pain himself, and leaned over, outstretching his arm for her, "Akeelah." She looked over at him with tears streaming down her face as she tried to curl her feet under her, looking to his hand, and shaking her head, she nearly refused, "Akeelah." He flexed his fingers and slowly she reached out for his hand with one of her own, and their fingers curled together tightly, "Squeeze my fingers when it hurts."

She nodded, sniffling, "Little one." And turned at the other voice, Gadreel was much too numb to the pain at this point, but the shriek the fledgling had let out was horrid enough to pain even the toughest of angels, and he too reached his hand out to her. The fledgling snuffled, reaching for his hand as well, and his large fingers curled around hers tightly.

A hand rubbed down her dark curls, turning her attention from the other on her side, to the one above, and the Morningstar smiled down had her gently, holding up a cup for her to drink, "It's for the pain, white willow and green tea, it'll help." When it looked as though she was going to let go of their hands to take the cup, the Morningstar shook his head, "No, no don't let go, I'll join you." And true to his word, he ducked under Zaves hand and settled beside her in the large Infirmary bed, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding the cup of to her mouth, rubbing the nub over her lips, and she looked up at him for a moment before slowly taking the bun into her mouth and taking a test sip. The sweet taste was warm as it went down her throat, and she decided that she liked it so she drank more, because it was sweet and did numb the pain, slowly, but it numbed it, and the archangel at her side nodded to the two healers to return to their cleaning of her feet.

While that was taken care of, Nisroc was the one who handed the cup of similar substance to the messenger next to her, and Zaves looked to his lap as the Power sat next to him on the bed, holding out the cup for him to take, and he did so silently without any chance of a glance.

"I am sorry, my young friend." The Power went silent for a moment, "There is no way to express in words how truly apologetic I am that I sent you to this torment."

"It's not okay." Zaves took a deep breath and finally turned to look up at him, "None of this is okay." He nodded and took a sip of his given drink, "But I understand that the stresses on you were undoubtedly just as great." He smiled at the Power, Nisroc returned it in kind, their friendship may not be as it once was, but they would always remain friends, no matter what, he knew that everyone had their part to play in the war, and Nisroc was just playing his part in the show, as he too had to.

"Can I hug you?"

The messenger thought on it for a moment, and he nodded, letting the Power pull him forward into a gentle embrace, he was grateful when Akeelah let go of his hand, to undoubtedly curl around the cup she drank greedily from, and he was able to clutch at the back of the Power's tunic as he buried himself deep in his embrace "Never let me go there again."

"Never."

While they were being tended to, the Healer turned on the Warden, gesturing the three prisoners he was tending to personally, and then to the ones all around, "You were never given permission to torture them." Michael stood beside him with his arms crossed, "You flayed their feet so they could not run." Being the true Commander of Heaven's armies, he has seen all sorts of techniques, thus he knew what this was about, the skinning of their feet. "They were your prisoners, not your playthings, this does not please me Theo." He turned to survey them all once more, "Not at all." He ran a hand through his thick dark locks, "The damage caused to some of them is insurmountable."

Raphael separated from them to see to his patients feet for himself, sparing a harsh look over his shoulder to the Warden, while all the prisoners were his patients under technicality, these three had come to him themselves.

He took first to the most severe out of the three of them, he bore the most bandages, and would take the most healing and care to get as better as he would after his ordeal that he'd managed to survive through. Large, semi aware eyes, watching him come closer, and he ran his fingers over his lower calf and sat at his feet to examine them closer. There was at least three layers of skin missing, possibly four, and it was an extreme wonder how he had managed to walk all this way under the excruciating pain he was sure that the younger angel must had had to endure in the action.

"It will heal, that is the good news," he leaned over to get a closer look, reaching for a swath of bandages to bund the appendages in, "It will take time, and the raw under skin will have to be washed daily, but you will heal." The part that was not shared, not at this moment in time, was the doubt that he would be able to walk unaided again. The damage was rather extensive, nerves had been stripped and broken, that would be news that would be brought up at a later time.

He turned to the healer that had been tending to him, "Get some warm chamomile for him to drink." Nodding as they rushed off to fetch the warm drink, and he pat the legs under the blanket rather carefully, "You get some rest, you are safe here, I will check in on you sometime later." The Healer sat there a moment longer, watching as the healer returned with the drink that was ordered form, making sure that he took the drink and took a sip of it once, and then another larger sip.

He moved on to the fledgling next to him, despite the pain he was sure that she felt she had her legs tucked up closer to her, no doubt something that was learned while experiencing the horrors that a fledgling should not have had to deal with and witness. She stared up at him with wide eyes as he sat at the end of her bed, patting his dark blue covered lap, undoubtedly for her to put her feet there. She turned to her friend for guidance, Zaveriel nodded, leaning into the Power's side, "He's good 'Keelah. He just want to help."

She still looked unsure, but seemed a bit more reassured with her friends words on the matter, and slowly uncurled herself from her protective ball she'd made. Slowly but surely, two little feet reached out for the archangel, her muscles were timid until he wrapped a large warm hand around her ankle and lifted her foot for him to examine closely, "You are the strongest fledgling I have had the pleasure of meeting." He spared her a look over her foot, "To walk on these feet the way they are for as long as you had, it is quite the feat." She didn't seem to respond to his compliments, and he sighed, their petty war had broken a completely innocent fledgling. So he went back to diagnosing, "The first layer, possibly a bit of the second, primarily to the arches of the feet, leading to the heel." He ran his finger over the ball of her little foot and got no noticeable reaction, "No damage to the ball of the foot, there are some mercies here it seems," he turned to the healer that had been tending to the fledgling, holding his hand out for bandages to bind her feet in.

He wrapped her feet up snuggly, and wiggled her toes a bit, as they stuck out of the swath of bandages curled around her little feet, "Look at these little toes." That did gain him a reaction, a small giggle escaped the hardened fledgling and he peered up to look at her, smiling at the small smile that had overcome the toughened fledglings features. "We will heal those giggles while you're here as well."

Raphael looked once more to the healer that had returned to watch over her patient, "Layliel, would you fill her cup with chamomile," he looked down to the fledgling once more "And some lavender, warmed?" she nodded and went off once more to mix the drink together once more, and he turned his attention back to the fledgling as he pulled the blanket up around her, "And you, you rest, you've done more then enough activity for the day." Layliel returned with the cup, and the fledgling took to it just as she had taken to the other drink she had been given, he spoke to the healer in charge of her, "Make sure she finishes the drink and sleeps, I will be checking in on her in a while, she is under my watch now." Layliel nodded in understanding and acknowledgement.

He moved on to the next bed, this one he knew rather well, "Let me see them." Sitting on the edge of the bed, he only had to tap his lap once for the messenger to set his feet in his lap, Zaves sucked in a quick breath when his fingers curled around his ankle and lifted his foot to examine, the messengers fingers curled tightly into the Power's lavender tunic, "Second layer at the most, no possibilities of the third," he lifted the foot a bit higher, "to the heel and arches, the ball of the foot is untouched, no harm done to the toes."

Raphael held his hand out to the healer assisting in the care with the messenger and he handed over the bandages to the Healer, stepping back as he carefully wrapped the wounded appendages in the bandages, and then he held a finger out to the one he knew as well as the back of his hand, "You," Zaveriel pointed at himself, "Yes, you, you stay in bed."

"I would never get out of bed with you here."

"Precisely," he wagged his finger a bit, "Which is why I intend to keep a close eye on you." He leaned forward, catching the young messenger by the back of the neck and leaned forward to press their foreheads together, "You are safe here, you know this, you're home now and I'm not letting you go." Zaves met his electric blue gaze "Ever?" his old guardian kissed his nose as he had done frequently when he was a small fledgling following him around "Ever." They stared into one another's eyes for a moment longer before pulling back.

"Eran."

The healer attending to the messenger stepped forward at the call of his master.

"Get him some warm chamomile a—"

"And lavender."

He pat the messengers leg, "Yes I know." And turned back to Eran, "And lavender, please."

Eran nodded and stepped away to mix the drink he was sent to get.

The Healer turned to the Power, "I trust you will ensure that he stays in bed."

"With all I have, sir."

"Good." He pat the Power's knee, and pointed a finger at the messenger again, as he returned his look over the edge of the cup Eran had given to him, "You know how I make my rounds better then anyone here, when I come back around to you, you had better still be in bed." He shared a nod with the Power beside him, "And preferably asleep."

Zaves nodded silently as he continued to sip at his drink.

Raphael pat his leg one last time, taking his leave for the moment, and nodded at his older brothers as he stepped passed them to speak with the other healers under his command to see to their findings.

The remaining three archangels had heard enough, and gathered together around the Warden, it was Michael who spoke for them, "Theo, the Council has convened, and it has some questions for you."