There's no saying that it'll be okay- what happened to Epsilon? Is burned into Wash's skin and into his memory. There's no undoing it. There's no moving past it, not when they're here. But York can and does tug the covers up over them. Tangle his legs with Wash's and catch his chin with his hand to lean in and press their lips together. Soft and brief and chaste. Nothing but comfort intended.