A little while ago Johnny might have flinched at the touch, might have pushed away, paced the room. Now there is only the slightest twitch before he settles into it. He lowers his hands back to his knees and stares at them for a moment, so small and useless.

"Why?" he whispers finally, and turns to look at Gabe, eyes dark and wet. He's not sure he's ready for that answer, if there is one. It's not even fair to ask. He knows firsthand how little sense there often is to these moments, and unless Lucifer forced Gabriel's hand somehow, he's not sure it's an issue he wants to force. "No, wait, when? When did this happen? Were you ever gonna tell me?"

He doesn't want to sound accusatory. Gabe looks nervous, and Johnny wants nothing but to grab onto him, reassure him. I'm not gonna leave you, not ever again. Thinking of it - he did that, he actually did that - makes his chest hurt.

He can't quite manage to say anything more, but he reaches out and touches Gabe's other hand, resting his own over it. Scout twists his head back and starts licking their fingers.