[He looks at him a long time and the mask actually falls for real, the warring emotions visible on his face. Just like back when he was the rookie, his feelings are on his sleeve. Back then, he was so expressive he could emote in the armor; sometimes he'd full body slump and show exactly what he was feeling.]

[He blinks and all of a sudden, for a brief second, he sees them again. Sim troopers in multi-colored armor. The same flash when he was trying to decide if he'd trust North.]

[They're trying to tell him something. Or really...he's trying to tell himself something.]

A little bit. Not entirely.[Dryly.] I think the part of me that could is almost entirely sheared off by extreme force.

[A furrow of his eyebrows, as he looks just slightly past York.]

But I think they would want me to.

[Cryptic. "Christ, man! Always with the cryptic one liners!" says a hateful voice from the past.]

[He blinks and the Reds and Blues are gone, as if satisfied. As if the other part of himself is satisfied.]

[He's actually honest. Actually open and honest. Because York is doing everything right and because of them. Because a part of him wants to do what they'd want him to do - accept support.]

I get flashes of the Reds and Blues sometimes. Like...like a part of my brain is trying to tell me something. Tucker...I trust him without knowing why. When it's hard to trust anyone right now.

[He shakes his head.]

And I know I trust the rest of them without even remembering them.

I think whatever part of me remembers being...whoever I was, with the people I was with, in the present, is trying to tell me to trust you even if I can't feel it yet.

So I'll try.

[He wishes he could just do it on command but he can't. His old friends died before he had a chance to rebuild up the kind of trust he apparently built with his newer friends. But maybe if he tries, they can catch up.]

[Maybe.]