Truthfully, he isn't entirely sure himself, although he's familiar enough with so many cultures and species out there handling death and grief and loss in countless different ways. His modus operandi is to deflect and bury his own grief deep down, rarely choosing to talk about it.
"For some, it's a comfort in knowing they're not alone, that another understands. Though, it's a lot to ask of anyone, to dredge up their own pain."
He takes it upon himself to sit beside her now, though with a rare awareness not to invade her space overly much.
"I'm sorry. What you've lost, what you've been through, there and here." There's an itch in the back of his mind, though, something nagging at him. A moment of shared grief, and it feels wrong to suddenly move past it, though he would honor Hermione's wishes in however she chooses to deal with the painful memories brought to the surface.
"No one's ever really forgotten if they can be remembered. You didn't say his name," the Doctor notes softly; the one who died in that horrific explosion. "Will you tell me? We can both remember him."
super sorry for the delay ;;
"For some, it's a comfort in knowing they're not alone, that another understands. Though, it's a lot to ask of anyone, to dredge up their own pain."
He takes it upon himself to sit beside her now, though with a rare awareness not to invade her space overly much.
"I'm sorry. What you've lost, what you've been through, there and here." There's an itch in the back of his mind, though, something nagging at him. A moment of shared grief, and it feels wrong to suddenly move past it, though he would honor Hermione's wishes in however she chooses to deal with the painful memories brought to the surface.
"No one's ever really forgotten if they can be remembered. You didn't say his name," the Doctor notes softly; the one who died in that horrific explosion. "Will you tell me? We can both remember him."