At first, Gabe didn't think he'd need help getting to his feet. Halfway up, with Benjy clutching his arm, he realized that wasn't true. There was an unsettling moment when he flailed into the darkness before his arm brushed Benjy's other hand. He managed to grab it on the next attempt, and hauled himself upright. Once there, it was jarring every time he turned his head slightly or blinked, expecting something. Anything. But there was nothing. He felt like an invalid, shifting so that he could grip Benjy's arm with his free hand as well. How they were going to make it up multiple flights of stairs like that he wasn't sure. Gabe only hoped his memory kicked in with some assistance along the way. Like telling him the height of the steps and whether Benjy was about to let him run into a wall. Not that he didn't trust his best friend. The problem was that they were both out of sorts, training or not. Things weren't as clear-cut when they happened to someone who meant something. He wasn't used to worrying about spatial orientation for anyone other than himself, in any situation other than a fight.
Gabe took a few seconds - the space of two inhales and two exhales - to rest his forehead against the ball of Benjy's shoulder, now that he could find it without much trouble. The cuts littering his skin still burned. His eyes burned. He was feeling dizzy, or maybe that was just the blindness throwing off his equilibrium. A knot of fear tied itself in his gullet, making it hard to swallow. He wasn't the hero in their little group of friends. He left that to Benjy and Genevieve.
"Let's go. I have a feeling this might take a while, and the sooner we get to Pomfrey or Burke, the better." Less of a chance it would end up permanent, that way.