Okay, that's a little trickier. Maybe if he weren't such a wreck if he could think clearer if he wasn't being hung up on useless fucking tangents he could keep everything under wraps keep the crazy under wraps and just don't fucking lose it, Epsilon, don't

Focus.

Focus.

Focus.

"Okay," he says slowly, trying to steady the tremor threatening to overtake his tone. A flash of something he's trying not to be. She keeps calling him Wash. Remember that. Remember the dimple of a tiny hint of a smile on one side of her face. Remember the sound of her panic, paralleled with the way she calms when there's something physical here to anchor her. "Okay, so we...confirm what's real. Were you asleep? How was it...simulated, do you know?"