Wash huffs at that -- Maine was not small in the crotch -- and would try to joke back if the moment didn't feel so delicate. If he wasn't suddenly thinking about Maine rolling over in his grave at Tucker's comment, and the fact that his friend probably didn't even have a grave. Wash bets they dragged the suit up and dropped Maine right back in the water. Fuckers.

He watches Tucker strip the armor off for a moment before crossing to the bunk and sitting beside him heavily, pulling off his own helmet and letting it hang from his fingertips.

Why is he here?

"Because I didn't want to leave you alone right now," he answers honestly. There's nothing he can do. He can't fix it. Doesn't even think he'd be any good at offering comfort, and certainly isn't the right person to commiserate. But Tucker shouldn't be alone.