Zoë blinked slowly as her eyes opened. Her whole body felt numb and heavy, and she couldn't move her arms or legs. She lay still, letting her vision clear and taking stock of her body. Her wrist throbbed slightly, as expected, but she also felt surprisingly bloated. The soft pad of feet mad her turn her head, which made her head spin and she groaned.
"Easy, Zo." Simon lay a cool hand on her head. "How you feeling?"
"Leaden." Simon sighed and moved out of her limited field of vision. She heard the hiss of a needle filling with liquid and sighed. She wanted to wake up and leave, hating being under Simon's eye and she hurt everywhere.
"You lost a lot of blood," he said softly. "I'm not surprised. Before I put you back under we need to have a talk."
"A talk?"
"Zoë, you're three and a half months pregnant." There was a pause where neither of them moved. Zoë felt the rush of her breath hitch and freeze as she fought her tears.
"I know." The quiet confession was a knife blade in her chest, and the scorching tears tracked down her face despite her will. Her voice caught in her throat and the words she intended to speak morphed into a sob. Her whole body shuddered under the force of her grief and she became light-headed and woozy. She barely noticed when Simon scooped her into his arms to let her cry against him. Simon himself had very little idea as to what she needed, so he just held her, doing his best to convey his sympathies. Never in his life had he had to deal with this sort of loss. When he had lost everything, at least he got to make a choice. Finally she began to calm down and she pulled away from him, face sticky and red.
"I knew a week before Miranda," she said softly, eyes down. "It was going to be a surprise and then we had to go and I thought it was a bad time so I was going to wait until after Miranda. But then there was no after. I can't do this by myself, Simon. I can't!"
"You're not alone, Zoë." Mal's voice made her head snap up, prompting another bout of dizziness.
"I've been so careless, Zo," he confessed, perching on the edge of the bed. "Here you are, pregnant and falling apart, while I'm here trying to ignore what happened. Believe me, I miss him, Zoë. But it can't be as bad as what you're going through." He paused, looking towards the door. The muscles in his face were taut and Zoë noticed the shadows on his face for the first time. "But I need you. You're the last link to what I'm fighting for. When we're together, I can imagine a place where you can have a family, where Simon can help River without being chased, where Kaylee can open her shop. I remember the dream. You understood that, when I was caught up in the anger of it. You always talked me off my high horse without ever making me look like a fool. You were unflinching in your loyalty and brave in the face of danger. Without you, I'm just another embittered browncoat who can't settle down. I need you." In the face of Mal's outburst, Zoë froze, unsure of her next step.
I never knew he needed me so much, she though sadly. But it's nice to know he cares. But the baby? I won't be able to raise a kid on this ship without Wash. I'll have to get rid of it. But it's the last living part of him. Can I really be responsible for killing that?
"I'll admit," Mal continued, snapping her out of her daze. "It would be nice to have a little sprout running around. I'm sure the others would be willing to help out."
"Did you read my mind or something?" Zoë said slightly sarcastic despite the wateriness of her voice. "I was just thinking that."
~ ~ ~
"Jayne, you've been standing there for at least 10 minutes. Is something the matter?" After hearing what happened to Zoë, Vee had retreated to her room, her mind a swirl of conflicting emotions. It was hard for her, living on Serenity, but she had begun to believe that she could be happy here, given a little time. She had a true friend and staunch ally in Kaylee and being able to share her experiences with River was cathartic, but the whole issue with Zoë was difficult. She didn't know quite how to handle what was going on, though she knew what Zoë was going through. Her own battle with grief had been much more personal and much more isolating, and Vee knew that Zoë did not think too favorably of her, further hindering any attempts Vee might make to help. It was an all around unpleasant situation.
"You seemed really upset," Jayne said softly, looking at the floor. "I want to help." Vee looked up sadly, eyes dark and unreadable.
"I'm not the one who needs help, Jayne."
"But—"
"But nothing. I'm upset that Mal didn't tell me about Wash, and I'm distressed about Zoë, but you can't help me with that. Go talk with Zoë if you need to help someone." Jayne met her eyes as he came to her side, plopping himself down beside her. He didn't touch her, but the faint warmth of his body inches away from her was oddly soothing to Vee. They sat in careful silence for a few minutes before either of them moved again. Jayne sighed and brushed his fingers over her knuckles before standing to leave.
Vee was bowled over by that one tiny gesture. Jayne had projected strong emotions and Vee's mind had been unguarded when he touched her. Idly rubbing the place where he had brushed against her hand, Vee tried to process what she had felt.
It felt like love, she thought as she sorted the feelings out. Love and concern and affection. But I can't— A painfully familiar face floated up through her mind from the locked memories. It was almost the same face that had just left her room, just slightly different. His face had been softer, more feminine, but he had even trimmed his beard the same way and had the same manly swagger to cover his warm heart.
Dennis…
There was a knock on her door and she looked up into River's pinched face.
"She told me you were unhappy." The words were complemented by a quiet brush against her thoughts. River came and took Jayne's vacated seat and rested her head on Vee's shoulder.
Who's Dennis? River asked mentally. You've been thinking about him. As soon as River asked, Vee's carefully constructed blocks began to crumble.
Her father's slap across her face as he yelled, voice raised in anger. "Bitch!" The bruises she had to hide every morning with too much cheap make-up so her mother wouldn't cry. The angry stuffing of a carpet bag when she'd had enough and couldn't take it any more. The street gang that had become closer than family as she fought to survive in alleyways and sewers. The fateful break-in when the Alliance finally caught up with her. "Dennis, Leanne, go! Don't let them catch you!" The Academy. "He's a browncoat, Victoria. He needs to be removed." "Victoria, you said you loved me. Please don't kill me! It doesn't—" The blood. The iron smell of it filling every pore in her body. No, no, no, no, NO!
"Vee!" She was being shaken. Her eyes snapped open to find Jayne's brown ones staring into her own, filled with concernlovelovefear. "You were shouting."
