He was right. He was right, because that was an intrusion and a violation which no one should have to experience in any fashion, and in light of that Gabe could understand why Murphy wouldn't be able to find any brightness in those memories at all.

The edge in his voice, the near-hysteria, the indication of that edge Murphy was on--it twisted Gabriel's gut with helplessness in sympathy, until the only thing the Archangel could think to do was to step forward and pull the other man into a rough hug.

"I know," he whispered, the embrace almost tight enough to be painful. "I know."