He looks down at the hands around his, wondering why the hell Devero is trying so hard when he doesn't really need to. Worst part is the first place his brain goes is that he can see why he's good for Koumyou. Not even much consideration for himself, despite all the obvious hard work he's trying to put in to make this old man feel better. He just doesn't let himself fully absorb the nice thing 'cause it shouldn't be for him. He doesn't deserve it.

"I don't got much future left ahead of me." Despite saying that, he does see what he's trying to say. Even if this particular past- he didn't do anything to deserve that, he doesn't think. He wouldn't sell out his son, and some people stood by him. Then they died for it, and he can still hear their desperation in calling for him. Sometimes he doesn't even have to be asleep. The memory just intrudes.

"An a lot of the people on this train are kids. I hate puttin' things too heavy on 'em. They're dealin' with enough of their own. Hell, fresh off of everythin' just as much as I am. You're even dealin' with too much shit to be worried about none of mine." Because Yondu, even if he's been through hell, he's through hell. Devero's still in it back home, has to struggle his way out of it.

"Shouldn't have said as much as I did just now." And he's not even mentioning the paranoia- the reality that at some point someone will hurt him with what they know. He's accepted that he'll lose people gracefully, but that doesn't mean he's prepared for a lashing.