Gabriel's brittle laughter was stopped when Paul kissed him, holding him so tightly he would leave marks-- that was good, they would remind Gabriel he wasn't dreaming, that this was something he could put behind him, but first he had to confront it.  At least, some of it.  He could not face all.<br/><br/>The feel of Paul's lips on his, rough and harsh and always so soothing, calmed the swell of emotion in Gabriel's mind: the panic subsided, the shame and the guilt and the wretchedness brought back down to a low simmer rather than a boil.  He loved it, loved the ferocious care in Paul's touch, so much more than anyone had ever shown; it ripped a hole in his chest and curled up there, and Gabriel was happy to let it stay as he kissed back.<br/><br/><i>It will burn</i>.  Gabriel's eyes met Paul's, pale jade and obsidian flint.  Yes...  Yes, let it burn.  Let it all burn and be condensed to ash and soot, let it disappear in the wind and be utterly forgotten.  That was sometimes the only cure for such a disease... You had to burn it away, and start again.  Though Gabriel had no intention of ever coming back, not even for life or death.<br/><br/>He nodded slowly, just a gentle movement of his head, and the boy seemed more like his normal self.  The sweet little dove in Paul's hands.  "I would like to see it burn," he murmured, wanting to be away from this disgusting place, put it behind him in his head.  "I'm sorry you had to see this, sir...  Let's go..."