Coping. Yeah. That was one way of putting it. Slowly destroying himself by cutting out everything good he'd ever had is another. His breath catches when York runs fingers through his hair. It feels... bizarrely good. Better than good, and he could drown in it if he lets himself.

He swallows past the thick ache in his throat and he wishes at this moment that he could cling to York, confess everything, how far out of his depth he is, beg him to fix things. Even if it ends with York finishing the job that Wash has never managed by putting a bullet in his head.

"I was just as much of an asshole," he says quietly. "I'm not a good person York. I'm not coping, I haven't been coping since the project pretty much, but I don't know how to change. I shouldn't have... done a lot of shit. I know you looked. I know you tried and you did a good thing. You're a better person than I will ever be and I- I screwed up."

He sighs, closing his eyes again. Part of him hopes that York will realise how awful things are, how far past fucked up this whole situation is, so they can just end this.

He wonders what would happen if he just skipped the next check-in. Nothing good probably. Charon holds his leash and he doesn't know how to slip it. He owes them too much.

"You're probably better off holding the grudge honestly. I'm not a good person."