AN: Another holiday update, belated christmas gift for you all, lol!

Review(s):

AyameKitsune: I know! But he's in good hands, I promise, friend.

Faeyre: Of course they're going to beat up the pagans! No one does this much damage to the baby of the family of four and gets away with it! His older brothers will fix him up and then kick ass!

VegasGranny: They did him real bad, friend! Thank you! I always worry about that, so thank you for your kind words!

Katlover98: No, your feels! I'm sorry for the feels! Don't have fear, friend, he's in good hands now!

Robin0203: I know! I think you'll like this chapter, you usually like this stuff, so here's some big brother helping!

They let him scream himself hoarse, his body curling painfully with the force of it, and the humans they had invaded the home of bent over in agony as his true voice bled out into the wail, even the Seraph winced at the pitch. The Healer pet a hand down his chin, turning his attention back to him, and he nodded softly.

"I'm going to continue, we are nearly there, be brave for me little hummingbird." He nodded to the Morningstar who was itching to be of use in this precarious situation, "Take his hand." He moved before thought told him to, kneeling at the side of his injured baby brother and enveloped his hand between both of his own, pressing his lips to the back of it. The Healer turned back to meet the eyes of the terrified Messenger, "When it hurts, you squeeze his hand, alright, as tight as you can. He is a strong archangel, he can take it, you squeeze with all your might." Gabriel whined lowly, but nodded, his fingers curling around his older brothers.

With the Messenger thoroughly under control now, he returned to snipping the stitches, there were sixteen in total, done tight and close together with careful precision, someone had wanted this single action to cause as much pain as it possibly could, and as he snipped each stitch he noted each pattern so that he may turn this back on the sole who thought they could sew his baby brother's mouth closed.

As he got closer to the side of his face that had been melted, he took notice of the fingers tightening their grip on their older brothers hand.

He ran a finger down the bridge of the Messenger's nose, "Be brave for me. You are doing so good now. Be as brave as you can." He got a slight nod for his request, and he leaned over his head to snip at the last few stitches that remained from where his lips had melted off. Once they had been snipped, he very carefully pulled the magic thread free, blood trailing after it as it opened the small healing holes that the thread had been pulled through, and it elicited a soft whine from the injured Messenger.

The Healer was in his element though, the mindset of the Healer having taken over, and he moved on to the next piece of the puzzle that needed righted. That being the half of his face that had been melted off, there was a poison there, he could see it slowly corroding the flesh even still, and he needed to determine what poison it was before he could begin to mend it, so he turned for the items he had brought with him.

The bag he had, as Sam Winchester was coming to realize, was much bigger in the inside then it was on the outside, as he pulled vile after vile and jar after jar, a needle and thread for sutures, different herbs and roots, various rolls of bandages, a change of cloths (old fashion like; a tunic and trousers, Sam wondered if that's what they wore in Heaven) a sheet and pillow and blanket, and finally a large thick book. It was old and worn, well used, and the Healer set it down on the table next to them and opened to a portion he seemed to know he would be needing information from.

He looked between the melting face, to the book, flipped through pages, and back to the archangels face again.

"It's cobra venom, it melts the flesh away," he added absently as he reached and sifted through the jars he had piled out on the table, "And one big cobra at that, for the amount of damage it did, but I can fix it." He nodded to himself, "I can fix it."

He found the jar he was looking for, purple in color, and when he pulled the stopper out a foul smell drafted around the room. Both hunters made a face at the small, Castiel shifted in place, and the two older archangels, much like the Healer, were much too focused on the Messenger to mind it.

He kneeled above the Messengers head, to the melted side, and met his eyes for a moment, "Squeeze his hand." Was the warning given as he scooped out a bit of the poultice and rubbed it on the edge of the nearest part of the corroding skin, it glowed a soft blue as it mixed with the poison, it was a poultice that had been mixed with a very small portion of the Healer's grace, only to be used in dire emergencies, and this was one if he ever saw it. He was slow and methodical, rubbing the poultice into the corroding skin, and watching with the careful eyes of a healer as the countereffect took hold and the corrosion stopped.

Throughout the process, the Messenger had begun to cry, tears dripped from his eyes, dripping down his cheek on one side, and onto his cheek bone on the other. Their eldest brother stepped up behind where the Healer kneel to work on stopping the corrosion, and rubbed a cloth over each eye to gather up the tears before they could continue to fall freely, leaning down to kiss his forehead, he spoke against the skin, "Be strong for me, baby Messenger, you are in good hands now, you are safe, and we are here. Be strong for me."

His baby brother nodded as best as he could, and smiled up at him weakly, Michael returned the smile, leaning down to kiss his nose as he had done when he was a fledgling.

The Healer finished rubbing the poultice around the edges that were still freshly corroding, he elbowed his brothers leg to alert him of his intention to stand, and Michael stepped back to allow him to. Raphael nodded to the eldest archangel, Michael winked in return, and leaned over to speak to the Messenger again.

"I'm going to fix your face now, squeeze his hand again." And turned to call over his shoulder, "Castiel, if you wish to preserve your humans then you will want to shield their eyes."

The Seraph took his warning to heart and quickly stepped forward to do as he was told to, closing his hands over their eyes, and the Healer nodded, looking back to his baby brother and nodded. He pushed his grace through his hands, feeling them warm up with it, and Gabriel sighed in relief as his skin slowly regrew itself, everything righting itself, face returning as it should be.

His older brother pulled his hand away, and he whined softly at its retreat, fingers brushed over his newly restored cheek and he looked up to meet his brother's gaze.

"Later, little hummingbird, let me finish first."

He could wait, his older brothers would never leave him, not after the condition they found him in. So he'd wait for more comforting touches later, the Healer knew how to calm just about any ailment, and would oblige his silent request to the fullest authority he could manage.

The Messenger watched as he reached for his right hand, looking through the hole there, and reached for the same paste he had put in the ones on his feet, and bandaged it, moving on to the left.

Sam watched him work closely, "He had holes in his hands and still managed to squeeze Lucifer's hand?" he turned to peer at the Messenger himself, "Wouldn't that cause him more pain?"

"As opposed to half of his face continuing to corrode itself, I doubt he would have felt very much more." The Healer didn't look up as he answered the hunters question, bandaging the other hand now, and reaching for the basin he had brought with him, rags sitting next to the Messengers head on the table, "Fill this with warm water for me?" he held the basin out to the hunter, and Sam nodded as he left with it, returning a moment later.

Lucifer turned to them as they stood there to watch, "We are going to clean him up, would you mind giving us some privacy." Dean looked as though he wanted to protest, on the fact that it was the devil he was leaving free to run around his Bunker, but Castiel was a soldier and knew an order when he heard on, though he loath to follow it, he escorted both hunters out, but stood resolutely at the door to watch the Morningstar closely.

The one in question merely rolled his eyes and shrugged.

They each took a rag and dipped it in the basin of warm water, "We're going to strip you now," The Healer informed the Messenger, keeping him in the know of all their doings, he was still sitting on a trigger, despite being in their charge now, and the last thing they needed was startling him with actions unsaid.

Michael and Lucifer made quick work of removing his pants, Raphael managed his shirt, and he was left to lay there weakly in nothing but his underwear. The oldest two archangels started low, at his ankles, and slowly worked their way up. While they managed that, their brother, the Healer, started on the left arm, at the wrist and worked his way up, faster then the other two, being the Healer he was a bit more knowledgeable in his craft and that included bathing his patients.

And his arms weren't as long as his legs were.

He was finishing up the left arm when he peered over to meet the staring golden gaze of his baby brother, "You did amazingly, little hummingbird, I am so proud of you." The praise brought a spark to the Messenger's eyes and he smiled at the sight of it, the little steps that were to be taken now were the most important, it was one thing to mend the broken body and a completely different one to mend the broken heart. "You are truly the strongest of us." He looked, a tad playfully, over his shoulder to his oldest two brothers, as he knew them to be listening in on them though they didn't acknowledge his words, and quickly turned his eyes back to the silent Messengers, "Even more so then Michael is, and that, that is a feat on its own." His teasing of their oldest brother brought a small smile to the Messengers features, and it was a milestone in the recovery they would have to make now, before going after the ones responsible for the horrors he had faced.

Raphael finished up with the right arm, and sat before him at the table, over his head and those golden eyes followed him, "I'm going to wash your face clean, little hummingbird, alright?" he waited until the Messenger nodded to begin, rubbing in small soothing circles over the tender skin, though regrown as it was it would still be rather sore for a while. A hand caught his sleeve and he looked down to it, fingers clutching tightly to him, as though afraid of letting go. He set his cloth aside for a moment to take the hand into both of his own.

"I am here, baby brother." He kissed the bandaged palm, "We're all here for you."

The Healer held the hand in his left, continuing his stroking with the cloth with the right, clearing away the blood and grime from the half of his face that had not been melted, mindfully softer when he rubbed over his lips as he moved on to rub over his chin and down his neck. Dipping the cloth into the cooling basin once more, leaving the water to drip from it, he stroked gently through his brothers hair, cleaning away the chunks of dirt and grime and other substances away.

Not once did he let go of that hand he held, not as he finally set his cloth aside, reaching for the pillow to set under the Messengers head over the hard tabletop. Michael and Lucifer finished cleaning the mess off his chest and set their own cloths aside, one taking the sheet and the other the blanket, draping it over him as they came to sit on either side of him.

Gabriel turned away from the Healer to look at his blonde brother, and Lucifer smiled, leaning forward towards him, taking the hand that inched closer to him into one of his own, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of the bandaged appendage. He looked to the other side, and Michael smiled to him in similar fashion, taking his other hand from their third born brother, he pressed his lips to his palm and closed his fingers, curling both of his hands around the smaller one of his baby brother.

Raphael sat at his head, rubbing his fingers through the Messenger damp hair, massaging his scalp gently as he did until his eyes began to droop. He noticed his fight against the rest he surely needed with the close eye that only a healer, and an older brother, could obtain, and leaned forehead to press his lips to the younger archangels temple.

"Go to sleep, baby bird, we're not going anywhere, you are safe now."

The Messenger seemed against it, but knew he was fighting a losing battle, not only did their soft touches calm his frayed nerves, but the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and his eyes slowly closed until he was sound asleep under their watchful gaze.

It was Lucifer who broke the silence, as Castiel finally allowed his hunter friends back in the room, looking between his two archangel brothers.

"They are not getting away with this, right?" he looked between them both, "We won't allow that, right?"

Raphael made no comment, but then on the other hand, he was a silent killer. He could take lives just as easily as he could save them. And he did what he wanted on his own terms, whether they decided on going after those responsible or not, he would do as he saw fit given the state of the damage their baby brother had suffered.

Michael shook his head, watching the peaceful face of their baby brother as he slept among them with a careful gaze, "Most certainly not." He brushed his thumb over the bandage as he stroked the back of his baby brothers hand, "If they attack our youngest, they attack us personally, and we will not take that sitting down."

Dean Winchester watched them in silence, whistling under his breath, as he leaned to the side to whisper to his brother, "It's bad enough having one enraged archangel focused on you." He shook his head, "I pity the fools who have three pissed off archangels, and the eldest ones to boot, focused on them." His brother nodded in agreement.

They were Archangels, and Archangels took what they wanted and when they wanted, and now they wanted the pagans.

And they wanted them to suffer.