For a few moments more Gabriel blinked confusedly at the detective. He looked young and vulnerable and exhausted, and if not for the fact that he hadn't started breathing again he would have looked painfully human indeed. Then he mumbled an assent and closed his eyes again. It took another few minutes to sink back into that sweetly protective memory, but he did, and because the party had gone on for days he certainly wasn't lacking for material.

This sort of meditation wasn't something Gabriel had ever done before, and yet in a way it was ... easy. It was just like focussing on something outward, some aspect of the planet he wanted to watch, except the opposite--inward, on an equally beloved event.

Time passed, and for the first time in his life as an angel Gabriel wasn't aware of it. Even nigh-demonic, every moment, every second, had dragged onward, every instant to be endured. Now he was unaware, because the time in his memory took precedence, and he lingered over every treasured experience.

It was at some point in the early morning, in the grey pre-dawn--not that they could tell--that the Archangel started to make overtures toward awareness again. He let himself rise out of the memory, not wishing to remain there too long without checking the world around him because he knew how easy it was to lose himself.

The first thing he felt was the tingle of the magic in the room. The second thing was the throb in his head, a bit worse than it had been the day before but no longer anywhere near migraine levels.

The third was Skulduggery's soul, calm as a still pool of deep water and utterly soothing.

With a sigh Gabe opened his eyes, a tiny smile on his face, and squeezed Skul's hand as he murmured in relief and gratitude, "You're still here."