Niles started to panic. He pulled at his restraints, trying to sit up. He wanted to tell Gabe it would okay. To tell Yewll to stop talking. To do what Gabe asked. But speaking was still rather difficult. Even a few words hurt a great deal, and took effort to get started. Before he could utter more than a syllable of reassurance when a rough had yanked his gaze away from Gabe. His fingers tightened around Gabe's hand. He wouldn't let go.

"Stop..." he croaked, trying to to sound authoritative. But Yewll was one of the few who didn't respond to his authority.

"I'm going to take that as a yes. Gabriel Goodman died in a VC assault on a boarding school in England. You're from somewhere around there, aren't you?" She patted his cheek. "Brutal stuff. Better let him go before it impairs your job." She nodded to his bandaged arms. "Further," she added.

"It's not...he didn't..." He looked to Gabe for answers. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. And yet, having heard it, he knew. Deep down. That jagged memory that kept teasing him. Gabe telling his friend to look after Niles. To hold him tight. They needed to protect the younger boy. A shout. A fight. A scream. The awful, coppery smell of blood eclipsing the foulness in the air. But Gabe had been there AFTER. He couldn't be gone.