As his name comes out as a question, any confusion on Maine's end is immediately pushed aside by concern. There's no reason his name should be a question. No reason at all.

The massive Freelancer isn't a person who's easy to mistake for anyone else. He's just too big. Even if they never see his face, people remember his sheer size. And Wash knows him. Knows his face; knows his voice; knows his grunts, growls, and the ins and outs of his body language. Who the hell else could Wash think he was?

Maine nods in answer and leans down to peer at Wash, dark eyes intense beneath the bill of his hat. Maybe Wash is getting delirious or something. Out in the cold too long. It's the only explanation that makes any sense to Maine.

With a jerk of his chin, Maine indicates the inn just ahead. Then, to ensure that his possibly-sick friend understands, he adds, "Inside."