Gabriel's laugh was hollow, for lack of any other reaction. "Oh, you remember that? Great. Perfect." He shook his head, closing his eyes and then opening them again as if his sight would come back in the second he really shouldn't have been able to see anything.

"It's not usually supposed to be exact; it's supposed to be an instinct." Not anymore. Though the fact he'd gotten a reaction at all kind of said that he still had some ability in that area. It wasn't really a comforting realisation, given the result.

His head jerked in the direction of Malcolm's voice, half a reaction and half a shake. Not the Cave. Who knew what they'd want to do to him? His angelic powers were returning. Maybe they could take them away again. Maybe they'd put him under for experimentation. It didn't matter. He was vulnerable. There was no way he was going to the Cave for help. "I don't think going back to the Cave for something like this would be a good idea. The Doctor. He's ... somewhere around here. At the Institute of Science."

The Time Lord may not be a nephilim, but he'd know something about reality manipulation. And at least he'd have eyes to see.