The holy water had been left in the Bentley, but there wasn't all that much left. Another visit to the priest might be prudent, if not for Gabriel's sake than for Raphael's impending arrival. Who would have thought it would be so effective as a medicine for angels? Not Gabe. This kind of injury wasn't meant to happen.
Gabriel's brow furrowed and his mouth twitched wryly. "Good thing neither of us age, 'cos we'd be here a while if you really want me t'answer that."
But the Archangel got Skulduggery's point, so he closed his eyes. Thinking was difficult, but luckily Gabe had a wealth of favourite memories from back home. It didn't take long at all to settle on one--the last festival day, in fact, not long before the Institute. Gabriel and Raphael had visited the Garden Coast to celebrate with Michael, Merlin, Joby and the other ex-residents of Taubolt.
It had been ... incredible. Incredible because as joyful as angels were, they had never celebrated in such a way with people still living; only those already come Home. There had been games. Tricks. Good food and drink. Wonderful company. And a drunken eldest angel.
Bit by bit, Gabriel relaxed into the bed, his grip on Skul's hand loosening without letting go. His breathing, necessary only as a means of focus, petered into nothing. With his eyes closed, the Archangel looked very peaceful ... in a way that, with the lack of breathing, was rather unnerving for more reasons than one.
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Gabriel's brow furrowed and his mouth twitched wryly. "Good thing neither of us age, 'cos we'd be here a while if you really want me t'answer that."
But the Archangel got Skulduggery's point, so he closed his eyes. Thinking was difficult, but luckily Gabe had a wealth of favourite memories from back home. It didn't take long at all to settle on one--the last festival day, in fact, not long before the Institute. Gabriel and Raphael had visited the Garden Coast to celebrate with Michael, Merlin, Joby and the other ex-residents of Taubolt.
It had been ... incredible. Incredible because as joyful as angels were, they had never celebrated in such a way with people still living; only those already come Home. There had been games. Tricks. Good food and drink. Wonderful company. And a drunken eldest angel.
Bit by bit, Gabriel relaxed into the bed, his grip on Skul's hand loosening without letting go. His breathing, necessary only as a means of focus, petered into nothing. With his eyes closed, the Archangel looked very peaceful ... in a way that, with the lack of breathing, was rather unnerving for more reasons than one.