Any trace of amusement fled Gabriel's face and his hand automatically came up in a mimicry of the Doctor's, touching the place where Lucifer had stabbed him. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I remember."

In truth, the betrayal had been as sharp as the pain of actually dying. Up until that moment some part of him, the part of him that had loved Lucifer, had wept for him, had refused to side against him for so long, still hadn't quite believed Lucifer would kill him.

The Doctor's voice dragged him forcibly out of the recollection, but the archangel's gaze was still distant as he looked at the other man. Then he seemed to shake himself and his expression closed down into an grim smile. "It was Armageddon. Coupla knuckleheads and one of my younger brothers managed to stop it with some help from yours truly, but apparently one of my other older brothers objected. There's an angelic civil war raging back home. Only know about it because of Balthazar over there."

He jerked his head in the direction of the group and the tall, greying angel sort-of visible. "He's from a time a ways after me. And it ain't going so well. There might not be anything left by the time we figure anything out."