He rubs his eyes, feeling that strange hot tingle in them even though nothing's wrong with his vision. It takes him a moment to respond to Gabriel's words; the outside world trickles in slowly as he wakes from his trance, like blood, or rain.

"I'm...okay. Just tired." He wobbles to his feet nevertheless, testing out his range of motion - he still has some reserves left, that's good. He feels emptied out, like a cup without liquid, but the cup is still there and real and solid.

(He turns towards the warmth like a flower towards the sun (if flowers do indeed still exist anywhere, in Hell or otherwise). He isn't immune to positive reassurance, to being told he's doing well.)

"It's not too bad...I'm only a little drained."