"How can I help you, young Sasha?"
Michael scooped the fledgling up as he came to stand around the side of his desk, settling him on the edge of his desk, and propping his feet on his lap. Sasha huffed and crossed his arms over his little chest.
"I'm mad."
He chuckled at the young one's admission. "Why are you mad, little one?"
"Because Nis yelled at me!"
Michael tilted his head in confusion, raising an eyebrow at the thought of his Captain yelling at his beloved little fledgling, and squeezed Sashael's little feet. "What ever for?"
"I don't even know, Micha!" Sasha held his hands up and shrugged. "He was looking through some stuff and I asked him a question and he just yelled at me!"
"Would you like to me find out why?"
Sasha nodded quickly. "Make him say sorry for yelling at me!"
Michael chuckled again, nodding in acknowledgement, patting the boys outer thighs. "Yes, I will make him apologize too."
The fledgling nodded seriously, and the archangel lifted him up to set him back to his feet, letting him take his hand and lead him from the office down the hall to his Powers bedrooms. Nisroc had his back facing them, as they stood in the doorway, unawares that they were there behind him. He was flipping through the pages of a thick book at his desk, undoubtedly making up his new lessons plans, a good warrior knew their way around more then just a weapon.
Michael turned to look down at the fledgling, squeezing his hand lightly, and the little one looked up at him curiously. "Why don't you go to the Garden, little one, Akeelah is playing with Lucifer and Paul there."
Sasha nodded excitedly, turning to run down the hall for the Garden, and he smiled as he watched him go.
Stepping into the room, he shut the door behind him with a soft click and rested his hands on his hips.
"Nisroc."
"Sir."
He hummed. "You will face me when I speak to you."
His Captain went stiff in the shoulders, leaning back from the book, he stood slowly from his chair and turned to face him.
"You yelled at your fledgling and it upset him enough that he came to me about it."
"He got in the way."
"He asked you a question."
Nisroc huffed and crossed his arms lightly. "Why are you here, sir?"
"I promised to make you apologize and I keep my promises." He stepped forward for him. "Your heart has grown rough. I will fix this."
…
Michael turned the corner of the hall and stopped in his soldiers doorway. Titus was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning forward on his elbows, rubbing at his shoulder in a vain attempt to rub away the tension. It was an old injury, long since healed for him to return to duty, but still caused trouble after anything too strenuous. He didn't let it hold him back in battle, but the aftermath, he retreated to his room for hours after their return as the tension locked up into something unexplainably painful.
"Here, Tus."
After watching for a moment more, he stepped into the room, Titus looked up at him at his appearance in his room and nodded in greeting. Michael gave him a comforting smile, pushing him around gently, as he slid in to sit behind him, he curled his fingers around his shoulders and dug his thumbs in deeply.
The archer groaned deeply, melting at the touch, falling limp in his hold.
"Turn for me."
He turns where he sits, and Michael curls his fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him forward to rest his head against his shoulder, and he melts against him when he dugs back into his shoulder, massaging at the knot that has formed over the muscle.
"I've told you before to come to me when it gets this bad."
"I don't want to be a burden."
"That's nonsense and you know it." Michael dugs deeply into his upper back and Titus groans again. "I wouldn't have told you to come if you were burdensome."
Titus sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Can you move to the left again."
His older brother's chest rumbled as he chuckled. "Of course, baby brother."
…
"Puriel, come with me?"
The medic looked confused at his call, but followed dutifully after his commander, Michael led him back into the Pavilion and up the stone stairs, down the hall and passed the lounge, back to his bedroom. Puriel stood in the doorway of his room in confusion, watching as his commander closed the curtains over his windows, blocking out the sun, and sat at the bottom of his bed.
Michael looked up at him expectantly. "Come."
"Sir?"
"I know you have a migraine." He raised an eyebrow as though daring him to deny the fact. "You'd flinched four times standing out in the sun. So, come, lay down."
Puriel shook his head, flinching at the knocking it created, and decided it was better to just go along with it then it was to argue over it.
Laying on his bed, stretching out comfortably, and laid his head on his brothers lap as gently as he could.
He sighed in relief as warm fingers gently massaged into his temple.
"Does this feel better Puri?"
The medic nods silently, only a slight thing, and slowly falls limp over his older brother's lap.
"Try and go to sleep, little brother, it'll help you best."
…
Haniel felt tears well in his eyes as fingers dug relentlessly into his lower belly, scrabbling for his commanders fingers with everything he's worth, arching his back when the elder finds a particularly sensitive spot.
Michael looms over him, as if studying the shine that is slowly returning to his eyes and digs in again when he doesn't seem to like the results he's seeing.
"You've lost your laugh, Hani, you've grown far too serious, big brother will help you fix this."
…
They're all lounging in the Garden when he takes note of the bags under his Power's eyes.
Patting his thighs, he reaches up to poke him in the arm gently. "Lay down, Abraxos."
His Power turns to look at him, looking down as he pat his thigh again, and shakes his head. "Sir, I shouldn't."
"You can and you will." He tugged on his sleeve. "You haven't slept well in come time. I can see the bag under your eyes. Lay down."
Hesitantly, the Power gives up the fight, and lays down among the grass and rests his head on his commanders thigh. Fingers brush gently through his hair in a way that makes him settle down.
"Get some sleep, Abe, I'll watch over you." Fingers trace over his forehead. "Big brother will take care of you."