"Whoa whoa whoa, Wash--" He doesn't like when Wash recoils, but what he likes less are his reactions, that inability to form sentences, and... Shit. Maybe it would have been better if he'd never run into Carolina in the first place... Maybe they were all better off with him pretending to be dead...

"I know, Wash, I know. And I'm sorry you had to see that, had to do that..." York trails off warily, unsure of what more he can add. He hesitates some more, just watching Wash stepping back from him, listening to him fumbling along... He's gotta do something. Something for both of them--try to settle the emotions down so they can actually talk. Maybe eventually even be happy to be around one another again.

It's without much thought that York steps forward, drops his helmet to the floor be his feet, and then practically throws his arms around Wash's back, pulling the other ex-freelancer in to a hug. They could both use one right about now, he thinks.