Again, Maine's mind goes to York. His fists clench, a muscle in his jaw jumping. There's the barest flash of hurt in his eyes. Didn't Wash understand that it was an accident…? Maine was following orders; York interfered. It was unfortunate, but it was an accident.

Then he raises his chin, steeling himself. "Wash has a problem? He can tell me."

Maine isn't interested in hearing it secondhand.