Slowly, mechanically, they begin to dismantle the still, piece by piece. They are silent, unable to talk around the lumps forming in their throats, movements steady and sure.
"You want the --"
"No, you keep it."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
Hawkeye is vaguely reminded of Carlye, and the aftermath of the first time she left. Sifting through possessions, deciding who kept what -- the end of the war seems too much like divorce for Hawkeye's liking.
"The conclusion of an era." Charles comments, watching as the still slowly becomes nothing more than a jumbled pile of instruments.
Hawkeye too readily agrees.