Elle woke up for the second time in as many nights. Gabriel wasn't in bed next to her, and she could hear the sound of someone retching. She was immediately worried, because typically if someone was out of bed and throwing up it was her. And she had an excuse. She got up out of the bed and stared at the sight of Gabriel, usually so strong and controlled, curled up on the floor, a gun beside him, a complete mess. God. Not that. Anything but that. Peter and Claire might have failed, but she knew that if Gabriel wanted to die, he would find a way. She picked up the gun carefully, disassembling it to be safe, and sat down next to her lover.
"Gabriel," she said softly. "What is it, honey?" She wrapped an arm around her and turned his face to look at her. "Talk to me. What's wrong?" She didn't know what she would do if she couldn't break him out of this state. She was worried he might hurt himself, and she couldn't let that happen. Not if she could help it. "Talk to me, Gabe. What are you seeing? Whatever it is, it's not real. It's all in your head. Remember...what happened to the others...that's all this is. Just a hallucination. Everything is all right, I promise."