Fuck. This is officially getting worse and worse. Definitely should have stayed dead if it's bringing Wash to...this.

Glad to have at least caught him before he managed to drop himself to the floor, York doesn't mind accepting the brunt of the other man's weight. If anything, he hugs him tighter--or as tight as he can with both of them still in armour. One hand sliding up over Wash's shoulder, it only comes to a rest at the back of the younger man's head, just cradling him gently. Carefully. And with great concern.

"It's not real, Wash." York starts repeating the words with him, hoping that an outside voice might help him more. Meanwhile, the hand on the back of Wash's head just starts gently running through his hair, rubbing at his head softly, pulling him in as close as possible. "It's not. It's not real, okay?"