Murphy had definitely needed this. Gabriel gripped him a little bit tighter, running his hand reassuringly over the man's back. In his touch he put as much of his own comfort and reassurance as he could. Given the depths of Murphy's anguish, it wouldn't overtake the man's own emotions, but they would dull the edge and help them subside a little easier.

The Archangel didn't speak, because he didn't know just what or who Murphy cried for, or whether 'It'll be okay' was a lie or not. But he hummed. Nothing really in particular, just a simply flowing melody that shifted somewhere between the many songs Gabriel already knew. There was no magic in it, but it was soothing and light.

And then Gabriel just waited, patient and unmoving aside from the movement of his hand, for Murphy's grief to run dry.