Why was it so loud?
Simon swiveled in his seat, and took several beats longer than normal to adjust to the new view.
Jayne was enthralled, strangely enough, in a conversation instead of a bar brawl. Somehow he still managed to be exactly as loud as the brawls normally were. Inara was quietly observing the brute from a corner booth, amused until her client arrived. She always glowed. Shepherd was sat at the same booth, a glass of clear liquid between his fingers and a contented look upon his face. It was not water.
Zoe and Wash were huddled together further down the bar, drinks forgotten, a sight on the verge of obscene. Simon took a deep pull of the dark liquid in his glass.
River was having a good day. A long stretch of them, actually. This was highlighted by the fact that she had apparently befriended a small group of women in the dim bar, whom she was now teaching a smattering of dances.
No Kaylee in sight. No Mal.
Only one of those was his fault.
He took another long drink before wagging a finger at the barkeep for a refill.
"Havin' a good night there, Doc?"
Simon thought he might have jumped out of his own skin when the Captain's hand clapped to his shoulder.
"Still a might jumpy," he laughed before taking the seat next to the Doctor and ordering a drink of his own.
"Men on the run from the law tend to be," Simon uttered in what he thought was a hushed tone until the barkeep grunted his agreement. That was his stock excuse, but not the primary reason for tonight's edginess. Simon tried to stop the room from swaying by staring at the shelf of liquor behind the bar. He gave up and drained his glass.
"Well, friends ain't in short supply here, we're in no danger," the Captain assured. He was so confident. Simon squinted at his handsome features and hiccuped.
He needed another refill.
Mal made no moves to stop him from obtaining one.
"Where's Kaylee?" Mal finally asked, because of course he had to.
"As far away from me as she can get on this planet, I'd wager," Simon half-slurred as he reached for his drink yet again. It had a way of magically refilling when he needed it most.
"'S a moon," Mal gingerly sipped his fresh drink, "can't get too far." The click of glass against the bartop pulled Simon's eyes upward again. Didn't realize he'd been staring at the larger man's work-worn hands.
"What'd you do this time?"
Why did he have to ask?
"I was honest," Simon tilted his glass dangerously in the Captain's direction, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. It was only half of the story but he didn't care to share the rest.
The Captain's lingering smile grew. He attempted to hide it at the Doctor's scowl.
"Sounds a dangerous predicament, with a woman like that. She forgives easy though."
Simon blinked at the bartop. Almost disarmed by the Captain's encouraging words. "Not something that needs to be forgiven, unfortunately."
Mal looked thrown off by that. But he'd had a good day, so he continued.
"Dare I ask?"
"You might," Simon polished off yet another drink and realized he had absolutely no idea how many he'd had.
Mal only laughed and finished his own drink. Gave the Doctor a long, contemplative look. Simon didn't like the scrutiny he felt he was under. But the Captain didn't ask. Only watched.
"I told her," the words finally bubbled from his lips, no longer able to contain them. The secret felt like a wild animal that had been clawing at the cage of his ribs for years, and now that it had broken free, he didn't care to recapture it.
Maybe it didn't matter here. There was no longer a facade to maintain. No family name to dirty. He'd already dragged it through the filth.
"That so," Mal said matter-of-factly, though his quirked brow made clear he didn't intend to make any assumptions. He was going to make Simon say it. Of course he was.
"She knew, I think," Simon continued, avoiding the inevitable. Both of Mal's brows were now reaching for his hairline. "But I made it real. I said it out loud. She didn't want to hear."
"Think you been spending too much time with your sister," Mal smiled, but his tone was kind. Understanding. It was easy for Simon to forget how warm the Captain could be. It was so seldom directed his way. But the older man only softened when someone needed it. And Simon had been so set on being strong for River…he didn't have any left for himself.
Mal waved off the barkeep when he tried to refill Simon's glass. Simon licked his lips and swayed in his seat. Screwed up his face in thought.
"Did I ruin everything?"
The thread he was dangling from was practically audible in his voice, taught and ready to snap.
"Could be." Mal tapped his glass against the bartop. Simon stared at the reflections the thick glass threw. "But if there weren't room for the truth, it couldn't be too much of a loss."
His eyes burned and threatened to spill over. But they stayed locked on the larger man's mouth. It held more wisdom than he liked to let on.
"I need to…" the younger man clutched at his empty glass, then the edge of the bartop, then smoothed his hands over the sweater he wore that once was heavy and pristine and now was threadbare and mothbitten. The Captain slid carefully off his stool and stepped in close. Simon could feel his heartbeat crawling up his throat.
"Home?" Mal asked without pretense. A tear finally slid over Simon's cheek as he stared up into those blue eyes.
It was.