Her tone, her words, made Gabriel's stomach lurch and a chill prickle across his skin. There was an acknowledgement there, of care and responsibility, something she had always avoided beforehand. Something he had always avoided, except in jest.

Now it seemed like she would actually grieve if something permanent happened to him. The Archangel swallowed hard.

"Why are you even bothering?" he asked a bit roughly. "Dad knows I piss you off often enough." His skin tingled with anticipation of an answer (that she might actually care) and the dread of it (that maybe she didn't, maybe it really was as simple and her seeing him as a helpless thing to be protected). "It's not like I haven't already died before. Apparently--" He laughed bitterly. "Apparently no one stays dead where I come from."