"We're weapons," Wash says, his voice thick with frustration and anger and the hurt that's usually buried as far as he can make it. "We're not people. We're weapons and weapons don't... Don't get to make those decisions." And he was terrible at making them anyway. "Had enough freedom to know I can't do it. He let me walk away, York. I tried. And I can't do it. Got picked back up cause I couldn't." Wasn't that evidence enough? He could have walked away but he didn't.

"At least you wouldn't be alone anymore," he says and then, without thinking, "Yes. I'm gonna break their fucking faces."