Nathan sat stunned for a fraction of a second, but only that long. He wrapped one arm around Babs in return and smoothed his other hand over her hair, letting her cry. He’d sit with her until her sobs became hiccups, if that’s what she needed. He’d sit until (and after) the front of his shirt was a wet mess of fabric from the tears she’d cried. Hell, he’d let her act like it hadn’t happened afterwards, if that’s what she wanted.
He wasn’t qualified to talk someone through their grief, but he’d spent more than once as a shoulder for a friend, and that at least he knew he wasn't going to fuck up.