"You wanted something?", Gadreel asked. He was shirtless and sitting on his bed. He hadn't expected anybody to enter at that moment and hid his surprise well behind a mask of practiced aloofness. Michael's eyes travelled over the beaten skin, the etchings and the raised lines of whip marks, the Sentry's back was littered with the scars.

Evidence of his living through actual hell.

The evidence of his greatest mistake, one of many, a haunting reminder.

"Michael...?"

The soft call had him shaking himself free from his thoughts, stepping away from the doorway and into the bedroom entirely, the Sentry turned to face him completely. It was a hard task to do, the scars curled around his side, folding over his stomach and chest. A spider web twining over from front to back. He couldn't take his eyes off of them.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." The Archangel spoke to him but stared at his chest. "You haven't been seen for some time."

Gadreel sighed deeply, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "They stare at me." The archangel's eyes shot up as his face heated with shame at being caught doing the same thing that caused the retired sentry to retreat to the room that he'd been given in the archangels villa. "More precisely, they stare at my scars. It doesn't bother me most days. But," he looked down a moment, "Sometimes it gets to be too much." His tone took on a sadder note and it only served to make Heaven's Commander feel the immense guilt at the knowledge that he was the cause of it all. "Like, they see the scars, but don't see me."

"They are nothing to be ashamed of."

The younger angel gave him a particular look, it caused him to smile slightly, and stepped by him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"They tell a story." He frowned sadly. "A horrid story." Gadreel turned to look at him. "One that you came out victor of."

"There is no victory in this."

Michael looked upwards for a moment, as the sentry turned to look to the side, his mind clearly swirling with thoughts upon thoughts. Hesitantly, he reached up, tracing his finger over a long thing scar that ran over the sentry's lower belly. The reaction was immediate, he jumped around, eyes widening in surprise, and at first the archangel had thought he'd caused the abused angel more pain.

But there was something in his eyes that told him otherwise, and he reached forward to trace his finger over the scar again, this time the reaction was more physical. The sentry smacked his hand away and stepped back a step, it brought a small smile to the archangels face, and he stood to follow him.

"Please stop doing that."

He retracted his hand slightly. "Am I hurting you?" though he doubted it but the familiar reaction he seen from plenty from being an older brother for as long as he has been. Gadreel shook his head, curling his arms around the place he had traced along, looking up to meet his eyes. A smile slowly spread over his features at the look he was given, and he leaned forward on his elbows, reaching out to brush a finger over a scar swirling over his side.

"Oh, little 'Reel, even after all this time?"

"Sir," the sentry started, "Please, I am too old."

The archangel shook his head slightly, reaching out again. "I am only called 'sir' on the battlefield, something on which we are not, and something of which you will never see again." His fingers curled around the scarred sentry's wrist and tugged him forward. "And as your older brother, I am saying that you are most certainly wrong, you are never too old."

Gadreel let out an undignified yelp as he was pulled forward, stumbling over his feet at the sharp yank, tumbling forward against the archangel sitting on the edge of his bed, scrabbling for the tunic that lay on the other end of the bed. Arms wrapped around his waist, as he struggled to reach for the end of his bed and pulled him backwards to lay haphazardly on top if his archangel. They struggled for some time, the sentry trying to pry himself free and the archangel grasping him tightly to himself, and it was the archangel who inevitably managed to get the upper hand. He curled an arm up and around his left arm and pulled it away from his side.

Using the fingers of his right hand, he traced the lines of the scars curling over the side that had been uncovered, and at the feeling of it, the sentry struggled to free himself. The fingers stopped their gentle tracing and dug in so suddenly that it caused him to let out an undignified shriek and throw his head back into the archangel's shoulder.

"All I'm doing is tracing the story." The same fingers dug into the side of his lower belly and he jolted. "But if you want to keep struggling to free yourself then I can give you a reason to." Five fingers wiggled into his belly again and he snorted in withheld laughter. "You pick the one you want."

Michael chuckled against his ear when the struggles came to a sudden stop, nodding in acknowledgement, his chin rubbing against the side of the younger angels head. "Good choice, 'Reel." He dug his fingers back into the side of his belly again one last time. "If you pull against me again this is what you'll get." He knew from experience that the sentry's lower belly was rather sensitive and smiled at the sound of laughter being choked into stifled silence. "Is that what you want, 'Reel?"

The sentry shook his head quickly, his struggles ceasing completely, and the archangel chuckled lowly as he went back to tracing his fingers over the raised scars. Gadreel struggled to no struggle against the tingly feeling of fingers tracing over his skin lightly. He bit his lip when the fingers came to trace the scars winding over his belly. Michael smiled when he felt the sentry's muscles tense up in his strain to not tug to free himself.

"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you." He traced his fingers over his lower belly and the sentry couldn't stop himself from jolting, yanking desperately at his arm, regret coming immediately after when the fingers tracing over his lower belly dug in again. "Oh, I can't believe you changed your mind."

Gadreel couldn't stop it this time, he gave a bright fledgling like shriek and fell into boisterous laughter that had been silence for far longer then it ever should have been.

"That's good." He released his grip on the sentry's left arm and dug those fingers into the other side of his lower belly. "You could use a good laugh."

"Sihiihir!"

"No, no, no," he gave his sides a few good squeezes and returned to his lower belly. "What did I say?" the younger angel shrieked brightly and pressed himself closer to the archangel underneath him. "What's my name, 'Reel, what's my name?"

"Sihihi—Mihihichahaha!"

"Very good, 'Reel, I'm so proud of you."

Fingers curled around his, but didn't inhibit in the slightest, and the sentry snorted in laugher.

"Pleheehehease!"

"Alright, I keep on for a bit more, because you asked so nicely."