York sleeps like the dead- sleeps through Wash leaving. Only mumbles, mostly asleep and muzzy 'five more min-' when wash strokes his cheek. He's out for at least another hour, maybe two before the cold bed rouses him.

Before he blinks to where Wash had been and starts to worry until the tags in his hand click and-

No.

Not again, not another fucking message left behind after-


After.

Wash is in trouble. He doesn't know how or what or why this is happening but too much felt just off enough to be worrying and now he's sitting with the pieces again and the kid is gonna get him killed and-

He pops the chip in his tablet, grinding his hand against his good eye. Tries to wake up. To pay attention to what the kid's been trying to tell him.