That grin was finally starting to ease, but those wrinkles alongside his eyes were still present, his expression still glad as he lifted a hand to rub a thumb across one tear-smeared cheek. How long had Tucker been carrying that weight, that guilt that Wash might never speak again, because of him?

No. Not because of him, not his fault, not ever. But he would have believed it so and carried that weight regardless.

He didn't deserve to. He'd fight as long as he had to, in order to move that weight from him entirely.

"Water...would be nice." He licked his lips, throat bobbing under the bandages. "Tucker."