"I try to. Usually it works. Having someone not from home to talk to helps. It just hit me hard that night on top of everything else. Seriously, Mal. Thank you. I'm already not handling this shit well but it'd be so much fucking worse without you." Reel it in. He's fine. He'll be fine. He'll cope. He can't do anything about what happened there. What's happening here, though-

That he can work on.

York pats Malcolm's knee and drags over the data padd, flicking through files before he pulls up a holographic display of the armor currently being built for him. "So I've kinda- you're not getting the same model as Carolina and me. I tried to take your background into account, you know?"