It had taken years and years, but financial need finally convinced Mal to rent out one of the shuttles. To a photographer who could barely fly a shuttle no less. And that had led them here, standing outside the infirmary, waiting while Simon patched the nasty hole in his niece's side.
Well, that and a ship of Reavers coming up on them when Meadow had taken him out to show him how to pilot the shuttle without crashing it. River'd had one of her fits that lasted -what everyone had to assume - from the time the Reavers hit the shuttle until the time Jayne left the very pale teenager on the operating table.
The photographer didn't say anything from the time they picked them up, which Mal took as a kindness, but when he said in awe, "Not one of the Reavers got past her to the shuttle. She fought as if it were the most natural thing in the world. There was such poetry in her movement…"
"Is there poetry in seein' clean through her, son?" he demanded furiously as Inara had to keep him from putting a bullet in the young man's brainpan. "Maybe you shoulda took a jump on usin' that pistol she left with ya."
"No killin!'" Kaylee shouted, getting between them, her face written over with her worry. "No fightin,' no arguing' so long as our girl's livin' after what she did- what River done more times 'an we could count. Ain't no sense in it! It ain't Nate's fault they got hit, and you know that!" They all jumped when Simon walked out to them, wiping blood form his hands, his face a cool stone. "You done already?" Kaylee whispered, fear in her voice.
"She should recover," he said, still detached. "We'll know for sure after she wakes up."
"River ain't worried, that's for gorram sure," Jayne grumbled, getting to his feet. "Squeaker'll be jest fine." There was a finality in his words that everyone somehow trusted more than Simon's diagnosis, Simon included. River had calmed down. Surely she wouldn't have if Meadow wasn't going to recover.
>>>
Mal was waiting beside Meadow when she woke up a couple hours later. He smiled and ran a hand back over her brow. "Well, Gosling, you gave us a scare."
She smiled weakly and said, "Scared myself. Too stupid to live, aren't I? Whole gorram ship."
He nodded. "And you killed 'um all. Your mama had a good year on you 'fore she did the same."
A worried look passed over her face. "How is Mama?" Her mother was never sane, but as long as she could be kept calm, you only really noticed it when she spoke. Her worst episodes always came after Meadow was hurt or away for too long. Simon wasn't even joking when he'd once said that Meadow was the best medicine in the 'verse for River.
"Bit tetchy," Mal confirmed after a moment. "Doc doped her, but you recoverin'll have her right as rain soon enough."
Meadow yawned in deep fatigue then said, "Uncle Mal, it ain't his fault we got hit. Don't go killin' a payin' customer for something he couldn'ta stopped."
Giving her hand a squeeze, he teased, "Doc'll lecture ya, talkin' all improper."
She smiled. "Don't change the subject."
"Hell, I'm enjoyin' this. You're so tired, I get to be the one directin' the conversation for once. Makes me feel right captainy." He looked up when Meadow turned and smiled at the doorway. He stood and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Rest up, ya hear."
"Yes, Captain," she said as his seat was refilled. As he left Mal heard, "Aunt Zoe, I hurt all over."
"Well, lookin' to get yourself killed'll do that."
"Oh, sometimes I think you hate me."
"Only sometimes?"
Mal grinned as he made his way up to the bridge. If Zoe was that calm, there wasn't a reason in the 'verse to fret over the girl. Not this day, anyway.