Wash doesn't mind the silence. he's happy to wait for Florida's answer. If he didn't want to answer, Wash has no doubt that he would have said so. No, he sits down on the grass instead, watching Florida pet the dog, and it's moments like this when it's easy to forget how deadly Florida is, with how well he plays his part.

When he does talk, Wash keeps his peace. He wants to hear this; it's about as much of Florida's past as he's ever heard. He can believe it. Although he's not sure how it maps to the Florida that he had known. The way Florida rubs at his shoulder is not ignored. It's an instinctive reaction, the same way Wash scratches and rubs at the back of his neck.

He smiles a little, lets out a soft huff of laughter at the explanation of how everything came about. Sounds like York honestly. Sounds like the kind of chaos that the Freelancers would have got up to. "Sounds like quite the story."

Florida proposing? Well, someone has to be happy out of all of them.

He nods when Florida says that. "York's been trying to socialise me," he admits. "I think I'm a project." And he's grateful in his own way, but also terrified. They'd all died. They'd all left him.

He hates them for that, a little.

"It's hard, knowing they've got their own Washington, and I remember being like him, but I know I can't go back to the way I was. it's like... being an impostor."