It should be awkward. They're holding hands like children needing to be guided where they're going. But really it just feels nice, like everything might be okay now, somehow.

It's a hope that's dashed as soon as they step into the training room and they're confronted with the kids. Carolina blinks, but she never met the rebels. Wash just wants to hide behind York and pretend he isn't here. He remembers them doing everything they could to get him and York together, even making them a cake from their meagre rations.

"I-" he begins, but York speaks for him and for once he doesn't mind. He can't help a mindless reach for the back of his neck, rubbing over the metal embedded in the base of his skull.

"Thanks," he says finally, quiet, to York.