Panic wasn't an emotion Gabe allowed himself to feel. Not even when he'd been hauled before the Wizengamot. But it bubbled bright and bitter and ice-cold in his blood. He couldn't tell if the moisture leaking from his closed eyelids was tears or blood or both. At the noise of footsteps from the corridor, Gabe flinched, hissing out a pained breath. It was a blessing when he heard a familiar voice saying his name, dragging him back from the edge of insensibility. He hyperventilated twice, until he realized that deep breaths hurt worse. Benjy didn't touch him, and his brain sputtered something about small mercies. He was a Healer, for fuck's sake. He needed to get his head together. Loss of blood was no excuse. Training. He had training. Routine. Knowledge, drilled into his head from years of study. Now if he could just focus long enough to tell Benjy what to do. Which spells to use to get the glass out. They wouldn't close the cuts - dittany could take care of that later - but his eyes.
"There's glass in my - we've got to get it all out. My eyes first." Was it bad that he was terrified to open them? It was a minor miracle he hadn't yet, because the action was only natural. It was going to hurt. The shards had to come out the same way they went in. If they shifted at all - well. It wouldn't be good. And that was if they hadn't already. Gabe knew he'd been moving his eyes, even with them closed.
He told Benjy the spell. The magic would take more than one piece at a time, at least, saving him some amount of grief. What he didn't mention was the bit about further damage, because no one needed that hanging over their heads. It wouldn't be Benjy's fault, in any case. No need to worry him.
"You can do this. I trust you." True as the words were, there was still the faintest tremor in them. He dropped his hands to his lap, grimacing at the sharp burst of hurt. "Benj, I - it all just. There was no one in here. No one. I used a revealing spell. Every single thing. Shattered. What the hell's going on?"