Really Wash wants nothing more than to go to sleep curled up with York. His head is killing. But there's always that worry that tomorrow he'll wake up and he won't be himself.

He frowns at that question, brow furrowing. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it and then shakes his head. "I can't tell you." He thumps his head back against the pillow in frustration. "Wanted to tell you stuff in person. Couldn't. Took everything to give you that message."