Wash was the first to admit that he didn’t respond well to pain. He could never stay calm with a bullet wound the way his wife and the captain could. Hell, a broken hand was probably no worse than a scratch to the likes of them. But as he wasn’t made of such tough stuff, allowing himself to lean a little on this woman for balance didn’t damage his pride.
She spoke of the Rim like she’d never heard the term before, which was just not believable. Everyone knew that term. Just like everyone knew what a Companion was... Wash shook his head. The person beside him was either crazy, extremely sheltered, or from an entirely different universe, and given his current circumstances, he wasn’t sure which of those sounded the weirdest.
She’d seen Zoe - or, at least, someone like her. Wash seized on that thought with renewed energy. “That’s my wife,” he said. “Probably my wife. Someone who looks remarkably like my wife. Zoe.” The relief that came from knowing that Zoe was somewhere around here was immense, but it still managed to be overshadowed by what this young woman said next.
“Wait. Hold on. What?” Wash stared at her. She was talking crazy talk. She had to be crazy. Witches and vampires and whatnot, those things didn’t exist. “A city brought me to the city?” he asked wearily, trying hard to wrap his brain around this idea. It wasn’t working too well.
Given his staring, he noticed her nod and followed her gaze to the bench. Sitting. Yeah. That was probably a good idea, seeing how the world was spinning out of control. Still holding onto his hand, he started towards the bench. “Wash,” he said as he carefully sat. “My name’s Wash.”