Keith swings his gaze -- eyes still looking not quite human, vaguely luminescent yellow sclera, pupils too wide -- to look in Wash's direction. His first instinct at an unexpected touch, especially when he's already keyed up and flooded through with adrenaline is to fend off an attack, but Keith catches himself at the last minute, blinking and staring at... a familiar face. All right. No need to fight back. A friend isn't a danger to be fended off.

But the hallucination hasn't released its grip just yet, and he swings his gaze around like he's heard his name called again, that desperate and pained tone of a familiar voice. "I have to find my dad..."

He explains, his own voice just as desperate.