"That's what you get for playing dead," Wash replies lightly. "If you don't leave a forwarding address..." Then how can you be expected to be kept up to date on your former comrade's slow descent into insanity and murder?

He clutches a hand against the back of York's neck when they kiss, holding him there for as long as he can, until he absolutely has to let go. It's an awkward position, but they make it work. "The sooner you go, the sooner you can get back, right?"