Gabriel didn't respond. He'd only half heard Nathan's command not to move, his mind only barely recognizing the gun that was pointed at him. His blood covered hands were held out in front of him, away from him, not wanting to have any other contact with the blood than he already had. The scene in front of him was blurry, a combination of tears and the lack of his glasses, and his only response to Peter's voice was the frantic shaking of his head.
He couldn't have done this. He wouldn't have done this. But he did. Oh, God, he did. Why? Why? What could have prompted him to kill someone who cared about him? And why couldn't he stop himself?
His stomach turned violently as his senses came back to himself enough that the smell of blood hit his nose. Oh, God. He was going to heave.