Humility did not want to move. He'd been prepared to lie there for however long it would take for this body to heal, adamantly not thinking about the times when it would have taken much less time, times when such an assault would have been impossible. With Samael's knees touching the ground, however, he didn't really have any other choice. Angels shouldn't have to kneel because of him.
Broken bones and torn muscle protested violently against his attempt to switch from horizontal to vertical but they made it into the bedroom without a single sound escaping Anton. By the time he was stretched out on his bed, a fine sheen of perspiration had formed on his forehead and slow deep breaths had degraded to shallow panting.