They had been maybes, might-have-beens. A fling and a friendship that involved a strange level of comfort until the project drove a hard wedge between them. Being alone - really alone - had been harder than she likes to admit.

She has a chip on her shoulder that fits her mother and father. She always will, even if she's learned to bandage it.

They had said Legion was good for him. Friends, structure, therapy. And she believes it, seeing him.

He sees the lighter and the bitter laugh, the comment - well, he knows. Her fingers grip the lighter tighter before she speaks.

"Well, I found it when I went looking for you. And your... journals." All that was left of him - Wash was thorough, but Carolina knew York, and had Epsilon to help.

She also almost tossed it away. Wash stopped her. She fiddles with the cap, then finally takes a step forward, offering the lighter out.

Its just an object, but there's an unsaid meaning there too. Its no longer hers to keep.