It was quite a bit less than comfortable. As gentle as Skulduggery was, Gabriel felt the pressure and weight of his hand. That wasn't too bad--mostly just something of which he was aware. The detective trying to pry the feather loose, on the other hand?
That hurt. A lot. The open wounds were never-ending burns of pain which burst into full wilfires when he tried to move his wings; this was a sharp stab-stab-stab which felt like it went all the way to the bone. Gabe knew Skulduggery wouldn't take longer about it than was necessary--maybe it was still half attached. Either way, the Archangel bent his head to hide the way the pain lined his face, gripped the edge of the table hard, and bit his lip to keep in the whimpers. The last thing he wanted was to make Skul feel guiltier about Gabe's own pain.
Still. His wings quivered with the urge to pull away and the need to not, and they slumped visibly with relief when Gabe felt the pain abruptly subside. It still throbbed, but that was much better.
"Thank you," he whispered, blinking away the tears he hadn't realised he'd shed and keeping his face turned to the front so Skul couldn't see. He really, really hated that part. It didn't happen often, but it did happen. At least those were feathers he knew he'd grow back.
Kenspeckle had appeared to be occupied with his own thing, but almost as soon as Skulduggery had finished with the feather he caught up a bottle and bustled around to the front. From the glimpse of his soul, Gabriel suspected the professor had been waiting.
"Right," Kenspeckle said briskly, upturning the bottle into his hand, setting it down, and rubbing his palms together. Even before he'd done so, the scent of lavender, faint before, now filled the air. Gabriel took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and revelled in it. Which meant he was a tad surprised, even though he shouldn't have been, when he felt Kenspeckle's fingers on his head. "Tell me how this works."
Gently the professor massaged the holy-water lavender-oil combination into the Archangel's temples. The effect wasn't quite immediate--but it was close. The lingering buzz in his head eased and then went away altogether; Gabriel felt the faint tingle of Kenspeckle's magic beneath the warmth of the oil and its scent.
"That's wonderful," he murmured with relief threaded deeply in his tone, instinctively leaning into the touch. He could feel that it was the sort of relief that wouldn't go away forever--if left alone, the headache would probably come back, and he couldn't tell how effective the oil-water combination might be without Kenspeckle's magic. But, for now, it was the first time Gabriel's head hadn't hurt at all since leaving his own dimension, and the way the Archangel's shoulders and expression relaxed spoke of something close to bliss. He'd forgotten what it felt like, for his head not to ache.
"Yes, well," Kenspeckle said, clearing his throat and pulling away a little abruptly to turn back toward his trolley. Gabriel blinked at him, startled and disappointed by the loss of that wonderful, soothing touch. After a moment the Archangel realised that his true presence and the sheer relief he must have been showing, in combination, had taken Kenspeckle by surprise. The professor snapped to cover it, "Take that bottle with you when you go and rub it in when necessary. Lavender never hurt anyone who wasn't allergic."
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That hurt. A lot. The open wounds were never-ending burns of pain which burst into full wilfires when he tried to move his wings; this was a sharp stab-stab-stab which felt like it went all the way to the bone. Gabe knew Skulduggery wouldn't take longer about it than was necessary--maybe it was still half attached. Either way, the Archangel bent his head to hide the way the pain lined his face, gripped the edge of the table hard, and bit his lip to keep in the whimpers. The last thing he wanted was to make Skul feel guiltier about Gabe's own pain.
Still. His wings quivered with the urge to pull away and the need to not, and they slumped visibly with relief when Gabe felt the pain abruptly subside. It still throbbed, but that was much better.
"Thank you," he whispered, blinking away the tears he hadn't realised he'd shed and keeping his face turned to the front so Skul couldn't see. He really, really hated that part. It didn't happen often, but it did happen. At least those were feathers he knew he'd grow back.
Kenspeckle had appeared to be occupied with his own thing, but almost as soon as Skulduggery had finished with the feather he caught up a bottle and bustled around to the front. From the glimpse of his soul, Gabriel suspected the professor had been waiting.
"Right," Kenspeckle said briskly, upturning the bottle into his hand, setting it down, and rubbing his palms together. Even before he'd done so, the scent of lavender, faint before, now filled the air. Gabriel took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and revelled in it. Which meant he was a tad surprised, even though he shouldn't have been, when he felt Kenspeckle's fingers on his head. "Tell me how this works."
Gently the professor massaged the holy-water lavender-oil combination into the Archangel's temples. The effect wasn't quite immediate--but it was close. The lingering buzz in his head eased and then went away altogether; Gabriel felt the faint tingle of Kenspeckle's magic beneath the warmth of the oil and its scent.
"That's wonderful," he murmured with relief threaded deeply in his tone, instinctively leaning into the touch. He could feel that it was the sort of relief that wouldn't go away forever--if left alone, the headache would probably come back, and he couldn't tell how effective the oil-water combination might be without Kenspeckle's magic. But, for now, it was the first time Gabriel's head hadn't hurt at all since leaving his own dimension, and the way the Archangel's shoulders and expression relaxed spoke of something close to bliss. He'd forgotten what it felt like, for his head not to ache.
"Yes, well," Kenspeckle said, clearing his throat and pulling away a little abruptly to turn back toward his trolley. Gabriel blinked at him, startled and disappointed by the loss of that wonderful, soothing touch. After a moment the Archangel realised that his true presence and the sheer relief he must have been showing, in combination, had taken Kenspeckle by surprise. The professor snapped to cover it, "Take that bottle with you when you go and rub it in when necessary. Lavender never hurt anyone who wasn't allergic."