Like last time, the Soldier settles on their knees on the floor in front of the couch, letting Aziraphale sit on the couch. They don't really need a calming blessing this time; despite the general undercurrent of fear, the spike from a moment ago is gone, and they've done this before. It's not an unfamiliar thing.

And they want. The memories of Hannukah. Of family. Of something. If it comes with something bad, this time they're ready for it, and accept that sometimes good just comes with bad attached. It's fine. They want to see how it's done, and only practice will help them do that.

So they kneel, and wait expectantly. Hopefully, even.