York laughs, the sound soft and bitter. "Are you going to sleep with me, too? If I try and keep anything from meals they might think I want a weapon. And nothing else in the room moves." He supposes he could hold on to the legs of his bunk, maybe. Or just his boot. He doubts the Cetagandans would have stuffed animals to hold but that's the best thing he can think of that wouldn't be construed as a weapon.

There's something protective in Ratchet's voice that soothes York's worry -- he's sure Kaidan and probably Wash would object to his being hauled off, too. Maybe even Daryl. He's not sure if the hillbilly gives a shit, but it would be an excuse to fight. "Staying sane's probably enough to worry about, yeah." He sighs, "I haven't been doing such a great job of it."