He almost can't process what she's implying, here, it doesn't make sense-- and he knows her too well to imagine it's anything else. He's been there for her too many times. It's the fact that that's what her mind had settled on first that throws him, and it takes Wash a good few moments to catch himself, stumbling over his words a good few times before he can even start off a sentence, the incredulity seeping from every word.
"York, is that-- is that what you think this is? Some-- some misguided sense of pity?"
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He almost can't process what she's implying, here, it doesn't make sense-- and he knows her too well to imagine it's anything else. He's been there for her too many times. It's the fact that that's what her mind had settled on first that throws him, and it takes Wash a good few moments to catch himself, stumbling over his words a good few times before he can even start off a sentence, the incredulity seeping from every word.
"York, is that-- is that what you think this is? Some-- some misguided sense of pity?"