[Espy]

Dante raised an eyebrow, got unsteadily to his feet, took a few deep breathes...and pitched forward. He caught himself before he could do a neat faceplant into the ground, found his weapons under the bodies of the Dybbuk, and turned towards what remained of Gabriel. No...it's not Gabe. And I can't mourn for him. I've done that once, and I've known since two years ago that he's dead. Dead!

Gritting his teeth, he stowed the guns and knife, then walked towards the ladder. He noticed the gunman, and his left hand went reflexively to his gun. After a moment, he dropped it, and reluctantly pulled the man up, slinging him over his right shoulder. Why the hell... "Need help?" Dante asked the struggling psychic sarcastically.