Saint Gabriel was grinning back over his shoulder at Skulduggery and Valkyrie, at the way they were bantering. In spite of everything, in spite of Low's tension and Renn's anxious smirk, the room felt lighter. Solomon could almost believe he had actually received a teddy-bear from God Himself and not feel like he was going to sink into a breakdown again.

What helped the most was Skulduggery's refusal to let go of his issue. The banter. The warm, dry arrogance.

"In my defence," Solomon demurred, "I told him before you said it. Yesterday, in fact." He shrugged carefully, even lying down as he was. "What can I say? I like acting pre-emptively."

Saint Gabriel laughed, and Solomon unexpectedly felt a glow of satisfaction. The Archangel squeezed his hand once and then rose. Solomon caught the wince, the way slight hiss as he moved--yes. Yes, he was injured. Well, that made two of them.

Still, Saint Gabriel made no other sound as he moved around the bed to hold out his hands to Father O'Reilly. "Paddy Steadfast," he said warmly. "It's my very great pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry I left you holding the bag, but unfortunately, I have to prioritise some things for a while. You handled things wonderfully, though. Thank you."