Gabriel could understand Peter's anger, the rage that was settled in his so solidly. He understood it all too well because he'd felt the same feelings before, but murder was never the way to go about things. It was never the best possible solution. And his resolve broke rather solidly when a voice so familiar and yet for foreign echoed in his ears. Squirming uncomfortably, Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, to make his presence known before pushing himself to his feet as he headed slowly down the stairs, glancing between all of them as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"The blood would make a horrible mess in the carpet, Peter," Gabriel drawled, his words far more flippant than he really felt about this situation. "You might want to leave his limbs intact."
His. My. He'd grown used to the confusing pronouns when it came to this situation, but he'd never thought it would actually hit this close to home, be this direct rather than a vague detachment that came from hearing all of this from others. And as it was, this was certainly not the situation that he had expected being confronted with whenever he did.
His eyes moved, locking with Peter's as he made his thoughts clear, Can we just all calm down for more than thirty seconds and see if we can sort this out? No forcefulness, just a question asked with a slight mental fatigue before turning to the not-quite-perfect reflection of himself and offering the man a hand up.
"She was probably counting on me being out," Gabriel said before glancing back over at Claire. "Right?"