"Oh. Shit," York says, stupidly, but Delta's surprise is registering along with hers in stereo, because D's conversation with Wash had only gotten as far as York's been dead for years now and she's still taking that one in. Jesus Christ on a bagel, she's getting a headache.

"The Director's dead? Christ. I mean — good riddance, I guess, but. Shit."

She takes a longer, slower look around the room before looking back at Wash.

"...And we're not in prison or nothin'?"

She has so many other questions — like how, and who, and which of their old war buddies are still alive — but she knows she's not ready to ask any of that just yet. She needs to finish reconnecting with...being fucking alive, apparently.