"Are you lecturing me, little brother?" Gabriel asked with facetious disbelief, clapping a hand to his chest with the sort of loose movement only the drunk could achieve. "I'm impressed. Or maybe wounded. Haven't decided yet." He took a shot anyway, just because he was halfway sure that wanting his family to be all together and happy and peaceful was being overly greedy, and then pointed at Aziraphale. "I never got terrified of an older brother."

Afraid for, yes. Angry at, yes. Worried about, yes. Terrified of? No. He didn't think. He was pretty sure. It hadn't been fear that kept him out of the fight so long.