Down Wash gets sat. Suddenly everything that felt off had a reason, every detail and he hates it. Hates that Wash has been living with this for how long? Hates that he never knew. That he stopped looking for both of them.

Nothing to do but try to fix it now but- it might be too little too late. Still. He settles up along Wash's side, hands smoothing down his back and across his shoulders, keeping far from the neural implant. "We got you, babe. It's okay."