It was difficult to remember that Gabriel's wing hadn't shifted in the face of the answer - an answer Gabriel wouldn't even have given, if he had the choice. But somehow, Skulduggery managed it. He felt a shudder run through his consciousness, probably made stark against his soul because of how his body remained perfectly still.
He couldn't understand it. He'd barely been able to fathom it before, and it was almost impossible now. He'd believed part of the reason Gabriel was so willing to look past those five years was because it didn't ring personally for him. The Archangel hadn't been there.
But it was just as personal for Gabe now as it was for anyone else in the room. Personal in a way the angel hadn't known before, couldn't have known before, because he reacted to Skulduggery's explanation. Reacted. He must have always known what the Faceless Ones were, but he hadn't known that - and yet his treatment of Skulduggery didn't change in the slightest.
Why didn't it?
Why didn't Gabriel tell him about this sooner?
At least one of those, Skulduggery knew the answer to. Gabe didn't tell him because in some subconscious way - or whatever the equivalent of subconscious was for an Archangel - he had known. And he didn't tell Skulduggery what the Faceless Ones really were because some part of him didn't want Skulduggery to carry the burden of knowing exactly what he'd done.
Protection. That was what it had always been about.
Skulduggery knew the answer to the first question, too. It was what the protection stemmed from. It was why Gabe's reactions to this were so very illogical. It was why Skulduggery found himself caring more about Gabe's feelings than he did about the idea that Lord Vile had killed an angel.
And to that end, he wasn't going to let Gabe leave any part of the truth out anymore.
"Fallen angels," he said quietly, "that come from your dimension?" Your brothers and sisters? It wasn't a far-fetched idea - not with the way Landel juggled painful coincidences at the Institute as easily as he breathed air. A different thought occurred to Skulduggery, and he felt his entire being tighten. "Were they already Fallen, or were they driven insane by the dimensional crossings?"
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He couldn't understand it. He'd barely been able to fathom it before, and it was almost impossible now. He'd believed part of the reason Gabriel was so willing to look past those five years was because it didn't ring personally for him. The Archangel hadn't been there.
But it was just as personal for Gabe now as it was for anyone else in the room. Personal in a way the angel hadn't known before, couldn't have known before, because he reacted to Skulduggery's explanation. Reacted. He must have always known what the Faceless Ones were, but he hadn't known that - and yet his treatment of Skulduggery didn't change in the slightest.
Why didn't it?
Why didn't Gabriel tell him about this sooner?
At least one of those, Skulduggery knew the answer to. Gabe didn't tell him because in some subconscious way - or whatever the equivalent of subconscious was for an Archangel - he had known. And he didn't tell Skulduggery what the Faceless Ones really were because some part of him didn't want Skulduggery to carry the burden of knowing exactly what he'd done.
Protection. That was what it had always been about.
Skulduggery knew the answer to the first question, too. It was what the protection stemmed from. It was why Gabe's reactions to this were so very illogical. It was why Skulduggery found himself caring more about Gabe's feelings than he did about the idea that Lord Vile had killed an angel.
And to that end, he wasn't going to let Gabe leave any part of the truth out anymore.
"Fallen angels," he said quietly, "that come from your dimension?" Your brothers and sisters? It wasn't a far-fetched idea - not with the way Landel juggled painful coincidences at the Institute as easily as he breathed air. A different thought occurred to Skulduggery, and he felt his entire being tighten. "Were they already Fallen, or were they driven insane by the dimensional crossings?"