Before she even noticed she was doing it, Gaby was instinctively responding with an "It's alright". She accepted his weight without a second glance, her body looking unusually small and fragile next to his gangly height; but with the tables turned, she helped him limp into the living room and towards the nearest seat: her couch, faintly illuminated by candles on the coffeetable and a flashlight lying on the bookcase.

As horrific as the situation was, as frightening the spectre and name of Magneto, she still liked being there for someone. A part of her experienced an exquisite little thrill at having a man needing her for once--

"How badly hurt are you? I can't really see." Her fingertips lightly splayed across his arm, delicately, trying to assess the damage.