[ For a moment, it's all Castiel can say. His shoulders slump, slightly. Not in defeat - it's just that he wishes this was a request he could grant, or at least answer more positively. He wishes, too, that he knew how to handle her sorrow better. She's not Dean or Sam, whose measure Castiel has taken for so long that he knows how they handle their pain - poorly, for the most part.
With Miriam... he imagines he's the worst person to try and help her pain.
So after a moment he does something Castiel tends to be profoundly uncomfortable with when done with people he's not close to, and even then not often something he does proactively without particular cause; he reaches out to touch her. A warm hand, light on her elbow.
He's not particularly good at hugging, but will not deny her that if it's a comfort to her. ]
I... suppose I could offer reassurances. It's just... I'm told I'm something of a poor liar.
[ Not entirely true. He did manage to lie to and betray Castiel and Sam and Bobby for the better part of a year. Still... not the point.
Lacking any other comforts, he falls back on what led him here... prayer. His own broken faith need not impact hers. So he speaks the Dayan ha'emet, the blessing for negative experiences... and funerals. Hers... he might not believe that this is any sort of afterlife, but however they ended up here, the fact remains that death was inolved in some way. ]
[ It's real. It's real, and Castiel says that much--and in a weird way, that helps. It soothes, though not completely, and it seems to do the trick.
The touch does more, though--Midge doesn't hesitate the moment she feels it, and she lowers her hand from her face to grab desperately at Castiel, pulling him into a hug. She should probably ask, but she's working on emotion now--she holds him as tight as she can, finding their height difference perfect to bury her face into his shoulder. He prays and she cries harder, completely unaware of anything but the only source of comfort that feels even remotely real. ]
Thank you.
[ She's not sure if she imagines it or not--she feels a strange woosh, a warm feeling, like something else holding her. Something ethereal.
Miriam's just glad she's found someone that she can confide in. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Please tell me if my research into Judaism led me wrong here, I have 0 practical knowledge
[ For a moment, it's all Castiel can say. His shoulders slump, slightly. Not in defeat - it's just that he wishes this was a request he could grant, or at least answer more positively. He wishes, too, that he knew how to handle her sorrow better. She's not Dean or Sam, whose measure Castiel has taken for so long that he knows how they handle their pain - poorly, for the most part.
With Miriam... he imagines he's the worst person to try and help her pain.
So after a moment he does something Castiel tends to be profoundly uncomfortable with when done with people he's not close to, and even then not often something he does proactively without particular cause; he reaches out to touch her. A warm hand, light on her elbow.
He's not particularly good at hugging, but will not deny her that if it's a comfort to her. ]
I... suppose I could offer reassurances. It's just... I'm told I'm something of a poor liar.
[ Not entirely true. He did manage to lie to and betray Castiel and Sam and Bobby for the better part of a year. Still... not the point.
Lacking any other comforts, he falls back on what led him here... prayer. His own broken faith need not impact hers. So he speaks the Dayan ha'emet, the blessing for negative experiences... and funerals. Hers... he might not believe that this is any sort of afterlife, but however they ended up here, the fact remains that death was inolved in some way. ]
For what it's worth, Miriam. I'm sorry.
shhhh its beautiful you're beautiful
The touch does more, though--Midge doesn't hesitate the moment she feels it, and she lowers her hand from her face to grab desperately at Castiel, pulling him into a hug. She should probably ask, but she's working on emotion now--she holds him as tight as she can, finding their height difference perfect to bury her face into his shoulder. He prays and she cries harder, completely unaware of anything but the only source of comfort that feels even remotely real. ]
Thank you.
[ She's not sure if she imagines it or not--she feels a strange woosh, a warm feeling, like something else holding her. Something ethereal.
Miriam's just glad she's found someone that she can confide in. ]