Chapter Thirteen
The companion medical facility wasn't at all what Mal had expected. Then again, he wasn't really sure what he had been expecting aside from a general distrust on both ends when they finally arrived and the truth was, there wasn't a moment before when Mal honestly believed they would find the help there that they needed. But Sheydra had proved more than capable at assisting when she was found already waiting with medical personnel for the crew of Serenity at the selected landing site located near by the training house.
Inara had told Mal to have faith after sending the wave ahead to Sheydra and Mal, lacking all traces of patience by that point, had snapped in return that the companion had too much damn faith to begin with. Faith was not something Mal had an unending supply of and if he really thought about it, it had been that way since the battle of Serenity Valley during the Unification war. Faith was not the captain's strong point and maybe it never had been.
Exhaustion had become an unnerving regularity of Mal's demeanor and as the minutes and hours turned into days that blended one into the other, he became that much closer to wearing himself thin. What more could he do though? It was more than just running on adrenaline, because running on adrenaline was something Mal did when they were in the midst of some kwong-juh duh [crazy] heist or some other daring job that more often than not caused him and the crew a fair deal of headache, but at least it kept them soaring through the Black. And that's what Mal liked doing most. That's what kept him feeling like he still had some bit of control. As long as Serenity was kept in the air and running smoothly, then Mal was satisfied.
Right now, though, Mal wanted nothing more than to seek refuge in his bunk and sleep an entire week, shut out the whole of the Verse and refuse any sort of respectable responsibility. Even acquiring a few minutes of shut eye on multiple occasions as he had in whatever quiet corner of the medical facility he could find hadn't been sufficient. Someone always sought Mal out in one way or another and it was never to the captain's benefit.
First it had been liability release forms Mal needed to sign on Simon's behalf while Serenity's resident doctor was in the midst of an emergency surgery that was meant to save his life. Mal really hadn't understood that one because Simon wasn't HIS responsibility, but he'd signed the forms anyway. Then it was Jayne running his loud mouth after receiving medical treatment of his own for the bullet wound to his right bicep. It hadn't been life threatening by any means, but the mercenary milked his predicament for all that it was worth and once he realized no nurse or companion in their right mind would be giving him a sponge bath of any kind, Mal had had no choice but to quickly usher him back to their awaiting ship before he could cause any medically induced ruckus.
The crew of Serenity had no business being in a Companion medical facility, Mal knew that all too well, and Sheydra had to pull strings just to get them through the door. The last thing Mal needed was someone like Jayne screwing that up for them before Simon was a good distance away from knocking on Death's door.
Mal just needed everything to go back to normal, as normal as normal was for them.
Simon's surgery had taken place three days prior and the damage their injured doctor had sustained was more extensive than any of them had stopped to consider. It was a wonder Simon's life force had held on as long as it had, which had only baffled the medical personnel seeing to his care. Simon shouldn't have arrived to the facility alive, they said. Mal was almost certain Simon shouldn't have made it off of Jirah alive either, but somehow he had.
A lot of medical jargon had been passed around after the surgery concluded when the head surgeon came to speak to both Mal and Zoe and neither of them understood the majority of it. Zoe listened more intently while Mal stood numbly by and let his mind wander for the most part, but the captain did catch the gist of the main issues. Too much internal and external bleeding needing extended blood transfusions to replenish what was lost. Multiple rib fractures, one that had come dangerously close to piercing one of Simon's lungs. A fractured left leg and ankle, although superficial compared to the rest of the injuries, would still require weeks to heal and would probably cause Simon some sort of periodic discomfort for the rest of his life.
Serenity's doctor needed serious doctoring and there was so much irony in that thought that Mal wanted to laugh bitterly at it. Of course it just didn't help that he really had reached the point of exhaustion where he was nearly delirious and he was certain he could find the irony in almost anything by that point. It didn't help matters any and didn't make Mal a very sound choice to turn to either.
Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Mal turned with a heavy sigh from where he had paced to the end of the hallway and allowed his weary gaze to shift around him. He'd been wandering the halls for a while to keep to himself as Inara saw to her business at the training house and Zoe tended to Emma's care back on the ship. Even Kaylee's presence had been scarce around Mal because of her obligation to Sebastian. Sheydra had been kind enough to set up a room for Kaylee's use while they were planet-side, an accommodation that did the mechanic good and was something that Mal was honestly thankful for. She appeared as exhausted as Mal himself felt and considering he had not seen her in quite a while, Mal could only hope she was finally allowing herself a few moments rest. She wouldn't stay gone for long though. Mal knew that much. Eventually, he would once again find her at Simon's side with River.
Mal's brows lightly furled as he glanced down the hallway towards the open doorway of Simon's room. A nurse exited the room with medical charts tucked under her arm and she offered Mal a kind smile of recognition before heading in the opposite direction. Mal had seen her on more than one occasion over the previous days, deciding after the first encounter that she didn't look like she belonged in a companion medical facility. Inara had chided him for that assumption.
Mal waited for the nurse to disappear from sight, then began to make his way down the hallway towards Simon's room.
As far as Mal knew, River hadn't left her brother's side since their arrival once the surgery concluded. There was determined dedication in the younger Tam's demeanor that even Mal found endearing and it reflected much upon the dedication Simon had always shown for his sister. However, Mal wondered how long it would be before he would have to assert his authority and see to it that River properly rested as well. If that were even possible, because River often drifted upon her own disconnected way of thinking and the only one remotely capable of handling that was still teetering on the brink without a solid guarantee.
Who was Mal trying to fool? River would end up doing what kept her calm and the captain knew that meant remaining at her brother's side until he opened his eyes and assured her himself that everything was going to be okay.
Somehow in the midst of it all, Mal started to psycho-analyze moonbrained River Tam. What was the Verse coming to? Or had Mal finally lost his Gorramn mind?
When he reached the room, Mal paused in the doorway and took a bit of time to silently observe. River was perched diligently in the chair at Simon's bedside, sitting so still that it was eery, her gaze focused and her eyes unblinking. Simon, on the other hand, hadn't changed much either. Mal wanted to look away because Simon's appearance bothered him that much, but try as he might, he couldn't. Simon was ghastly still and despite the now steady holding of his vitals, it was no more reassuring. Simon Tam wasn't Mal's responsibility, so why did he feel so Gorramn guilty and responsible for what happened?
'Battle of Serenity, Mal. Besides Zoe here, how many men in your platoon came out of there alive?'
Mal winced as Jayne's accusatory voice rang out in his head and River sat up straighter in her chair, reaching out to delicately take Simon's hand into hers. "You're wrong," she told Mal.
Frowning, Mal slowly stepped into the room. "Come again?" he asked warily in return.
"The war," River answered him quietly. "Wasn't your fault what happened, not really. It still haunts you and you take responsibility."
Mal shook his head and didn't answer at first as he rubbed a hand over his face. Stepping around to the opposite side of the bed as River, he stared down at Simon. "Fahng-sheen, [Don't worry,] Little Albatross," he muttered dismissively. "I'm fine. And it would do you a fair bit of good to stay out of my head. You should be worrying about your brother instead."
River's voice was even quieter when she spoke up again, clearly conveying just how troubled she really was by what had happened to her brother. "He got lost," she explained with confliction passing over her face. "The compass breaks and you can't find your way. He didn't know how."
Mal sighed under his breath. "I mean this kindly, darlin', but I ain't got the brain power to be decoding your riddles right now."
River finally shifted her eyes to the captain. "Simon just needed to find his way home, for Kaylee and Sebastian."
The captain nodded as if he understood. "I reckon for you as well."
"He worries too much," River whispered. "But not about himself. He never does."
Mal watched the younger Tam as she spoke, but her eyes were no longer upon him and he suddenly felt just as equally responsible for her as well. His crew... His family... Mal crossed his arms over his chest and returned his attention to Simon. "Your brother is gonna be just fine. He just needs some time. They're taking good care of him here."
"You speak but you don't believe," River told him distractedly. "Try to convince yourself, searching for confidence, but finding none. You're lost too. Don't know what to think. Losing control. Still not your fault."
"I think that's questionable," Mal answered with a faint crooked smile.
"Your crew," River acknowledged. She looked at Mal once again and smiled shyly. "...Your family."
"I reckon we're a dysfunctional bunch at best." Mal reached out to gently place his hand on Simon's shoulder. "Doc's gonna be back to himself in no time."
River nodded. "Gotta watch after his moon brained sister. Keep her functioning so she can fly the ship."
Mal considered River for a moment and recognized that the statement was her attempt at light hearted humor. He appreciated her for it too. They didn't give River enough credit at times. It was just...hard to connect with the girl, especially when there was no telling when she would fly off the handle next. Mal was no good at damage control when it came to that. Another one of Simon's areas of expertise. "How're you doing, River? Don't suspect much anyone's been asking you that."
"Living," River answered simply. Her hand extended to smooth the hair away from Simon's forehead much in the same manner a mother would do for a sick or hurting child. "Heart beats a rhythm and blood flows through veins to the dance of life."
"I suppose it's a safe bet to say there's more than a little going on inside that head of yours right now," Mal guessed and he wasn't sure exactly why he said it, if only for the sake of making conversation to keep the room from becoming too quiet. River nodded nonetheless and withdrew both of her hands to her lap.
"Chaos..." she murmured in response. "It's always too loud."
"Yeah, well..." Mal shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It may sound like it's asking a lot, all things considered, but I need you to trust me when it comes to what's going on with your brother at the current."
"The sheep trust the shepherd to lead them where they need to go," River said. "Albatross trusts the captain like the sheep trust the shepherd."
"...Mal?"
Mal turned his attention to the doorway when he heard the gentle sound of Inara's voice call out to him. Surprisingly enough, it warmed Mal from the inside out to hear it and he relaxed at the sight of the companion. Inara's expression was as calm as he was used to seeing it. Her poise was still to perfection, despite her distress, right down to the beaded burgundy silk dress she wore. Mal almost hated himself for appreciating her beauty in that moment – appropriate had never exactly been his forte – but Inara didn't allow him the chance to afford it another thought when she entered the room politely.
"If it is possible, I would like to request a word with you in private," she stated.
Mal stared back at her, a mite uncertain of her intentions. Most times, he would have been quick with his wit and sarcasm, but this time that ploy failed him. His hesitation was temporary though and he motioned with his head towards the doorway for the two of them to convene in the hall. He didn't speak up until they were alone together. "Didn't think I would be seeing much of you while we're here."
Inara's head tilted to the side, the soft curls of her dark hair framing her face delicately. "What are you doing, Mal?" she asked him as her intense gaze studied his tired facial features closely.
"For starters?" Mal raised his brows. "Looks like I'm standing here talking to you."
"That's not what I meant," Inara countered just as quietly as before. Her fingers absently glided over the low cut neck line of her dress. "I'm asking what it is you think you are doing to yourself."
"Myself?" Mal repeated. "Now this don't sound like the start of a very pleasant conversation I want to take part in. Don't you have some companion-like stuff you need to be doing? Whoring to be teaching?"
It took all Inara had not to roll her eyes in annoyance. She had moved past the point of offense a long time ago every time Mal made a personal attack against her profession of choice. There was no ignorance towards the fact that he still didn't approve after all this time. She didn't care though; that wasn't the concern right then.
"Ta ma de, [Damnit,] Mal," Inara snapped in a hushed voice. "I know it pains you to stop acting yo cho yo ying [stubborn] for one second, but could you please act like a normal human being right now?"
Mal released a sharp string of curses beneath his breath and turned from Inara to pace away. "No...no, I am not interested in having this kind of conversation with you."
"Is that the truth or are you just too afraid to admit to the guilt complex that is eating you alive inside?"
With his back to Inara, Mal let loose a short sarcastic scuff. "That ain't a subject you want to be breaching when it's nothing you know about," he answered stiffly. "Don't matter to me none that you think you know, because you don't. I sure would appreciate it if you would keep mind of that."
Inara nearly shrunk back a step from Mal's bitter tone, but she held her ground firmly and her expression softened. "I'm not speaking of anything I can't clearly see for myself," she stated, her tone significantly more patient. "It's a pattern, Mal. I've seen it from you before. You don't hide it. You just try to deny it, especially to yourself."
"What in God's name are you even talking about, Inara?" Mal demanded in a low voice that betrayed his typical authority as he turned to face the companion. For a brief moment, they stared back at each other, eyes equally blazing with a withering resolve until Mal finally looked away at a loss for words.
Inara's hand gently pressed upon the captain's arm in hopes that she could gain his attention once more. It did little good though and made her heart sink in concern when he refused to look at her. "You're over thinking everything..."
"It's what I do," Mal muttered.
"And it drives you to the brink of insanity every time."
"This doesn't concern you!"
Inara nearly choked on a surprised breath, her eyes widening slightly in disbelief. "Qing zaishuo yibian? [I beg your pardon?]" she whispered. If she hadn't been offended before, she was certainly more than a little offended right then with the way that Mal insinuated she was less than important in the grand scheme of things, particularly when it came to him. His dismissal more than just stung.
Mal's lips parted to speak further, but his voice didn't project and his shoulders sank under the weight of Inara's betrayed stare. His words had been a mistake, that much was clear, not that he'd really given them much thought before they slipped from his mouth. Inara's intentions towards him were harmless. Mal just didn't want to hear it though. It wouldn't make a difference and she would never understand the way she thought she did. It was chaos, just like River said.
Inara's gaze flit towards the open doorway of Simon's room. "You've done everything you can, Mal..." she murmured.
Stepping around her, Mal leaned against the wall to relieve the pressure of the weight on his body. "That ain't the way I see it," he said. "There's always something. May not be what you think. Don't expect you to understand none either."
The soft sound of River's voice singing to her brother floated out into the hall, grabbing Inara's attention further. She immediately recognized it as the same song River had sang to Kaylee prior to Sebastian's birth and it was just as relaxing to hear it now as it was the first time she heard it. Inara smiled pleasantly. "...I know you're afraid," she spoke to Mal as she kept her eyes glued to the doorway. "Of what happened and what could have happened."
"This has nothing to do with fear, Inara. I'm tired of liability," Mal told her. "And I'm tired of casualties. Can't do my job none. Could do with less of the headache. Would be better off."
Inara's eyes rotated back to Mal. "You don't mean that," she returned.
"My whole Gorramn crew is falling apart," Mal hissed.
"What good is having a crew without a captain?" Inara closed the distance between them, fighting the urge to lift a hand a gently caress Mal's pale cheek. "Your anger will eventually destroy you if you continue like this. You confuse me, Mal. You are so quick to say how much you detest Simon and River, but you are even quicker to take the blame and responsibility when something goes wrong or something happens to them. Your mouth betrays what your heart truly feels."
Mal berated himself internally for appearing as particularly vulnerable right then because the last thing he really wanted to convey to Inara was that she was right. The flooring around his feet suddenly became interesting and he afforded great focus on it. "Zoe have you do this?" he questioned.
"Shuh-muh? [What?]" Inara tried to clarify.
"Zoe...did she have you do this?" Mal repeated. He kicked at the floor absently with the tip of his boot. "Talk to me, I mean. It'd be something she would do. 'Course, I don't reckon it makes any sense why she wouldn't just do it herself."
"Kaylee asked me to speak to you," Inara answered. She turned from Mal and stepped over to the open doorway to peer inside the room, observing the way River tended to her brother carefully. "She has been worrying herself sick for days now...about Simon, Sebastian, River, Jayne...you."
"Me?" Mal chuckled shortly. "Kaylee don't need to be worrying about me none."
Inara smiled fondly at the thought. "Kaylee worries about everyone, including you. She always has."
Mal gruffed. "Don't mean she doesn't already have enough to be worrying about without adding me to it. I'm fine, Inara. You can tell her that."
"Are you?" When Inara turned back to Mal, she found him watching her intently. For the first time, she took note of just how run down Mal actually looked, how exhausted and broken he appeared to be. Inara didn't take a step towards him though, fearing that if she were to close the distance between them, it would see the captain off once again. "Mal...you have barely slept in days and you have eaten even less. What you are doing to yourself will only bring you harm."
What could Mal possibly say to that? He grumbled under his breath and rubbed a hand over his face. "Don't know much what you're expecting from me right now, Inara," he muttered.
"It's not what I'm expecting you to do," Inara calmly replied. "It's what I'm hoping you will do, that you will listen to reason for once instead of turning a deaf ear."
"I'm listening right now, aren't I? I'm not arguing," Mal returned, but when Inara stared back at him pointedly with waning patience, he scowled. "I'm not arguing!"
A nurse who had appeared at the end of the hallway and began to approach offered them both a stern glance of warning that silenced Mal quickly. Inara bowed her head and smiled apologetically at her and then waited for the nurse to turn into Simon's room before she re-focused her attention on the captain. "Go back to the training house. Sheydra has prepared you a room suitable for your needs and she will provide you with a sufficing meal. You need rest and you will find it there."
"...Are you ordering me around?" Mal cocked a less than amused brow. "'Cause I don't take kindly to people who order me around."
It took all Inara had to swallow the curse wanting to surface and keep her voice calm and steady. "If you don't go back to the training house, I will speak to Sheydra and have her see to it personally that you never be allowed to set foot inside this facility again."
Mal pushed away from the wall. "Now you've taken to threatening me?"
Inara shook her head and spoke softly. "I am making you a promise."
If ever there was a time that Mal hated Inara outsmarting him, that moment was no exception. She was good for her word too; there wasn't a doubt in his mind that the companion would march straight to the head of the training house if he even thought about defying her wishes for him. So, squaring his shoulders and his jaw, Mal started to move past her without so much as a parting glance.
"Mal..." Inara started to call after him, but she didn't take a step to follow.
"I don't have time for you right now, Inara," Mal interrupted her as he continued walking. "Don't wanna listen to another one of your lectures either. Makes my head spin, just like you always do to me."
Inara's mouth opened and quickly shut wordlessly as Mal moved further down the hall away from her. Before long, he disappeared from sight around the corner at the far end and Inara's face fell under the weight of her concern for the captain. It didn't matter how much he frustrated her to no end at times, his naturally stubborn nature was sufficiently infuriating, but...Mal's well being meant more to Inara than she could possibly convey. Especially now when she knew full well he was once again inadvertently punishing himself for the tragedy that had befallen them.
"Oh, Mal..." she murmured to the empty air around her. "I wish you could see I truly care..."
()()()()()
Zoe had never been much of a tea connoisseur. She preferred a harder drink, the kind that warmed the blood pumping through her veins and numbed her anxiety to the point that she could still function. That had especially been true through the war, in the thick of battle when they were taking cover from the rain of fire coming from the opposition, the Gorram Alliance that wanted to see each and every one of the Independents burn in defeat. During those days that saw natural light fading into the black of night and then something much much darker, Zoe sought the periodic solace from the tiny flask she kept hidden with her supplies, just enough to take the edge off of the realization that they were indeed on the losing end, no matter how much they wanted to believe otherwise.
Mal knew a lot about Zoe, they had developed too much history for him not to know most of his first mate's deepest and darkest secrets, but he didn't know that. There were still a few inner demons Zoe preferred to keep to herself, ones that she was certain would have the captain frowning upon her in disappointment, because sometimes she truly wondered if Mal believed she could do no wrong. Of course, it hadn't always been that way. They'd learned to recognize each others faults over the years, but things had certainly changed since Miranda. Mal had become softer around Zoe...as if he were afraid she were on the verge of shattering at any given second.
If only Mal truly knew...he would see Zoe for what she really was, broken and unworthy.
It had been particularly rough those first few months after losing Wash. Up in the Black, keeping track of the passing time almost seemed useless outside of their travels and Zoe had usually left that detail to Mal in the past anyway. Though finding herself alone with Wash no longer by her side, Zoe lost all concept of time as it was known. When she wasn't needed for duties, she found herself locked securely in the room she once shared with her beloved husband, curled up in the middle of their bed where so much love and passion had been made while she sobbed through her grief.
Those days had felt suffocating and on more than one occasion, when her heart ached so much and she barely felt like a shred of the woman she once was, Zoe honestly began to wonder if she would make it through the pain of her loss. She became a master of deceit to keep herself shielded from the concerned stares of the rest of the crew. Zoe never wanted their pity. She didn't want to be looked upon any differently either, but how could she expect them not to look at her differently when she couldn't even afford herself the same? In fact, their best of intentions only made the bitterness swell in Zoe more and she hated them for it. The Verse had broken to pieces and they were hoping she would just...move on.
Zoe didn't remember much from those first few days when they finally got Serenity back in the air again. The extensive repairs to the ship had taken a long time to complete and Zoe had welcomed the distraction. It didn't allow her much time to think when she kept busy, as long as she steered clear of the cock pit where the memories of her husband's life and death were strongest. She'd only spent one day in there completing repairs and that had left her in a puddle of misery. Then came the first shutter of the ship's walls when the engine roared to life once more and the gravitational pull as they lifted off the ground did more than just tug naturally at Zoe's insides. It was just another reminder of what she'd once had and what had been stolen from her.
'Think she'll hold together?'
'She's tore up plenty, but she'll fly true.'
They had been talking about the ship, Zoe and Mal, but looking back now, the contrast between the fragility of Serenity and Zoe's mental state was astonishing. She had been battered and broken in the after math and despite it all, she still remained loyal and true to the crew regardless of how empty she was inside. Part of Zoe figured that would never change, even if she found herself simply just going through the motions like she had been for quite some time. That was Zoe Alleyne, though – the woman who survived the Unification war. Zoe Washburne felt as if she had died right along with her husband.
Inara had tried to draw close to Zoe during those first few days out in the Black once Mr. Universe's moon and her husband's memorial site were far behind them, mostly for the fact that the first mate had all but shut everyone out around her, even Mal. Zoe wasn't proud of it, but she had been the most hateful to the captain out of them all. She had said things that left HER in disbelief, hurtful and mean things that were undeserving. Mal, being the honorable and devoted captain that he was took it all in stride, but Zoe didn't go without noticing the scar it left in his eyes. The companion had been the only one thereafter brave enough to approach Zoe in her weakest moments, not that Zoe could blame the rest of the crew for straying. If she could have abandoned herself, she would have.
Maybe in some ways, she had...
It was a cup of tea Inara brought Zoe on the third day. Cradling a beautifully designed gold-rimmed porcelain cup in delicate hands -her fine china that was usually reserved for sessions with her clients- Inara had gracefully entered Zoe's living quarters with respectfully quiet steps. The companion's demeanor was noticeably more tentative than normal, but trained in detaching from feelings that were her own, she only let it show momentarily. Zoe hadn't partaken in dinner with the rest of the crew that evening and it had left everyone equally taken aback and concerned, although Kaylee had been the only one to voice her opinion on the matter. She spoke what the rest of them were thinking. And so Inara had volunteered to check on the wellness of the ship's first mate.
The tea was meant to be a peace offering, though Zoe couldn't be sure what the peace offering was for. Or perhaps the drink served no more purpose than to merely guide the companion in for polite interaction. Zoe hadn't wanted anything to do with Inara's efforts and had she been asked, she wouldn't have been able to recall a majority of what Inara had said to her that night. She'd been less than welcoming too. Barely a foot into the room, Zoe had made it abundantly clear that Inara wasn't welcomed there. But it wasn't the sight of the companion that bothered Zoe the most...it was the thought of letting the woman see her cry. That wasn't the Zoe they all knew and she'd be damned if she willingly gave them a reason to believe otherwise.
Inara had been patient, far more patient than Zoe deserved. She spoke with acceptance of the woman's disposition in the situation and she even offered to let Zoe unleash everything on her, but her efforts had gone without reward. Eventually, it was Zoe's calculated cruelty that had Inara making her exit from the room, and when she was alone once again, not even the shattering of the porcelain tea cup against the wall could free Zoe from the bonds of her misery.
Wash had loved tea.
Zoe hated it even more because of that.
She decided that night that there wasn't enough alcohol in the Verse to calm the turbulent storm tearing apart her soul, but it didn't stop Zoe from trying to drink her sorrows away. For the first time in her life, she felt more than she cared to feel and she thought more than she wanted to think. The pressure was too much to handle and so she searched for solace in the specialty bottle of liquor Wash had been keeping hidden away for whatever special occasion arose in the future. Mal would have thrown a Gorram fit had he ever found out the large chunk of credit Wash spent for the purchase, but Zoe had allowed her husband the fun of keeping the secret, let him think he had one up on the captain.
It was a sweet tasting bourbon with honey undertones that slid far too easily and smoothly down Zoe's throat. The guilt with the first drink had been overwhelming; it felt more like she was drinking to the death of her husband and God, she dreaded the thought of what Wash would think about it. He wouldn't be...proud to say the least. He'd probably even ask Zoe just what exactly it was that she was trying to do. 'You are stronger than this, Zo' he would say. 'You're my strong delicate autumn flower.' But the fact of the matter was, Zoe wasn't strong and delicate didn't even begin to explain it.
Before she knew it, there was just under a quarter of the bottle contents remaining and Zoe's heart was just as shattered.
She still kept the bottle stowed in a trunk in her living quarters, but she hadn't touched it since that night...and she wouldn't. Not again.
A week after the event, Zoe found herself more ill than she could ever recall herself being before. Couldn't rightfully blame it on some lingering hangover either, not like she originally thought. The morning after her drinking binge had been spent in the lavatory while Zoe's insides waged war against her pity-induced stupidity. By day seven, she couldn't get herself out of bed without the whole of the Verse turning upside down on her. As if Hell was slashing at her with its claws of torture, Zoe began to wonder if it were even possible for things to get any worse.
Simon had been keeping a close watch on the ship's first mate at the nagging insistence of the captain. The doctor dutifully checked in on Zoe once in the morning, another time at mid-day, and finally before he, himself, turned in for the evening. Zoe had honestly respected him for it too, no matter how much she wasn't able to voice her gratitude. Simon did what he could to ease the physical discomfort of her ailment, but he never tried to pry and get Zoe to open up about the emotional demons she was battling on the inside. It wasn't the good doctor's way.
Until Simon approached Zoe on the eighth morning with a startling suspicion that Zoe had never stopped to consider. There hadn't been a shred of the doctor that hadn't been serious as he sat on the edge of Zoe's bed and took his time explaining his reasoning. But how could it possibly be? The exhaustion, the continual sickness, the absence of her monthly cycle... Perhaps Zoe had been in denial all along. She'd explained the changes away due to the emotional and physical stress that had taken over her life. Not once did Zoe think it could be as simple as Simon was saying it was.
Numbly, Zoe had allowed Simon to take her to the infirmary that morning before the rest of the crew had roused. She couldn't wrap her mind around the implications of what the doctor sought to find out. How could Wash, her beloved husband, have done this to her and left her on her own to pick up the pieces without him? It was supposed to be a journey they would eventually take together and now she was looking at taking that journey alone.
The infirmary felt colder than normal and Simon hadn't spoken a word as he carefully administered the simple test, acquiring a small sample of Zoe's blood to gather the data he needed. It took all of a few moments for the results to surface, but by God if those moments didn't feel like the longest of her life, and when they did, Zoe was left without a doubt when Simon slowly turned to face her. She could read the revelation in his eyes.
She was pregnant.
Zoe didn't respond at first. In fact, Simon had questioned if Zoe even heard him to begin with. She couldn't find her voice though; what was he expecting her to say anyway? Was she expected to jump for joy and thank the Heavens for the opportunity to finally become a mother when it was those same Heavens that had ripped her husband away from her? No, she couldn't and she wouldn't do any of that. Instead, Zoe bitterly cursed Wash beneath her breath, eased herself off the exam table and made her exit from the infirmary without another word.
Mal found her a short time later, sitting numbly on the edge of her bed in her living quarters. He sat beside her and for quite a long while, neither one of them spoke. There weren't many things the captain could think of to say that would adequately bring the comfort he knew Zoe so desperately needed, so when the woman finally collapsed into his arms, he merely held her protectively and allowed her to sob in her despair without an ounce of judgment.
The moment of Zoe's vulnerability didn't last long, perhaps minutes or hours though she was too beside herself to really be sure of much, but when they finally pulled from the embrace, there was mutual agreement in their silence that Zoe's show of weakness would never be spoken of again once Mal left the room. One look into the captain's eyes told her that he would keep her secret safe as long as she needed him to. They would get through it, Mal assured her. Some way, some how, just like they'd gotten through the war.
The bottle of honey tinted bourbon had been tempting that day when Zoe found herself alone once again. There wasn't enough left in the bottle to begin to put a dent in her pain, even if she could have sought the cowardice to harm the life now growing within her. But Zoe couldn't do that. Her unborn child deserved a better fighting chance and she'd be damned to do that to her husband's memory, no matter the bitter anger festering within her.
That was the day Zoe stowed the bourbon bottle inside the trunk and locked the lid without further regard. It was no longer about her; she vowed that no matter what, no matter the cost, she would always protect her child. And so she started acting on that vow by seeking out a cup of hot herbal tea from the ship's companion.
The smell and the taste made Zoe's stomach churn, but she drank until there wasn't a drop left in the bottom of the cup. Life would go on.
Zoe exhaled a quiet breath as she slowly shifted her eyes down to the cup of tea she held in her hands. It wasn't her first choice and she wasn't exactly fond of it either, but she hadn't been able to tell the nurse no when the petite woman brought it as a polite offering. As if it were an act against the medical facility's rules, the nurse had entered Simon's hospital room quietly and drawn to Zoe's side with a wordless understanding. Bringing the tea wasn't typical procedure, she'd said. In fact, if Zoe didn't know better, she suspected the nurse had gone to great lengths for the extra show of hospitality and Zoe was thankful.
The cup was only half empty now, or was it half full? The centuries old riddle made Zoe's head hurt as she contemplated it and eventually she reached out to set the cup upon the tray beside Simon's hospital bed, no longer able to stomach the thought of drinking the now cold liquid. She wasn't a tea connoisseur. She hated tea.
Slowly, Zoe brought her gaze to Simon's frail form laying in the hospital bed and took a careful mental inventory of his condition. The medical facility had been keeping the doctor in a carefully monitored medically induced coma as an effort to allow his body the adequate chance to heal the way it needed to. Five days now. It had been five long days since the surgery that had been performed to save Simon's life and now the doctors overseeing his care said it was up to him to do the rest. Zoe had been informed shortly after arriving to visit that evening that Simon had finally been taken off of the medication keeping him in an unconscious state. His body needed time to work it out of his system and IF he woke up, they would then truly know the extent of the damage that had been done.
If...
Zoe had replayed that statement countless times in her mind, but she refused to believe it. She refused to believe that the strong willed man before her who had risked everything to rescue his sister and keep her safe would simply give up without a fight. Not when he still had so much to live for. Zoe refused to believe that Simon would turn his back on his sister, on Kaylee, on his child. She refused to believe that he would turn his back on all of them, just like she refused to believe her joint efforts with Mal to bring Simon back were made in vain. Simon just needed to wake up and prove Zoe wrong that the still fresh pain of her own loss wasn't happening once again...this time to Kaylee and Sebastian.
Simon had the chance that Wash didn't get.
His appearance had improved over the passing days and it made Zoe wonder about the extent and intensity of the medications they were giving him. Not that Simon didn't still look like Death was just lingering on the other side of the door until it came time to call, because he did, but at least now he looked like he had life left in him. The bruising on his face was still very much present, but his skin had begun to regain some of its healthy color and his right eye wasn't nearly as swollen as it had been. Even the facial lacerations weren't as pronounced. His injuries were there, but now Simon just looked...sick and nothing like the man who had patiently spent countless nights with Zoe in the infirmary during her pregnancy, teaching her things she needed to know and things she was simply curious to learn about when it came to his field of expertise.
Watching Simon laying there broken made Zoe realize just how much of an asset he truly was.
River stirred in her sleep on the other side of Simon's bed where she was curled up in a chair, delicately holding her brother's hand in her own. She didn't look comfortable cramped in that chair where she'd spent most of her time over the passing days, but not once did River Tam complain. Zoe wasn't even sure if she'd left her bed side vigil for any given time since Simon had been at the medical facility, rather she kept a close watch just like the same had been done for her in the beginning when Simon got her back.
It made Zoe feel for the poor girl though. How River was keeping herself so remarkably together was an utter mystery. Still it made them all wonder if she would eventually crack under the pressure, and if that were to happen, who would be able to put her pieces back together again?
Let her innocence mend...
Maybe it was just as well that River sought her solace beside her brother right then. It did them all a world of good without having to be on edge looking after her. And considering "normal" wasn't exactly her forte, what all did they have to lose without River running around causing her own unique kind of trouble? As remotely guilty as Zoe felt for thinking it, River's silence was a relief and she prayed it remained that way for a while longer.
A knock in the doorway brought Zoe's attention across the room just as a haggard looking Jayne stepped inside. It was almost comical the way he shuffled in, his right arm cradled securely in a sling so as not to further injure his healing bicep and his normally hardened expression was softened and withdrawn. His eyes were flighty in the way they flitted nervously around the room and if Zoe studied him closely enough, she could tell the discomfort he was in.
It took a bit before their gazes met in a slow hard stare; Zoe waited patiently for him to speak up and Jayne stared back at her apprehensively, as if he'd just been caught sneaking off somewhere he ain't meant to be. Nonetheless, Zoe motioned with her head to usher the mercenary further into the room and held her hand up for him to tread quietly. The last thing she really wanted him to do was get ahead of himself and cause a ruckus, which she knew would only cause chaos to break out in the room.
Jayne came to stand stiffly at the foot of Simon's bed and as he stood there in the soft glow of the wall mounted lights, it was eerie to Zoe how unlike himself he really was in that moment. There was rarely ever a time Jayne walked around without confidence and even then it was the result of a bickering match with Mal for one reason or another. But this was something entirely different. Confidence was the last thing on Jayne's mind by the looks of it as he stared at Simon in silence.
"Shouldn't you be on the ship?" Zoe spoke up as the silence lingered too long for her liking. She eyed Jayne wearily from where she sat, studying him with careful consideration.
"Got restless," Jayne gruffed with a simple shrug of his left shoulder. "Didn't care much to be sitting alone in the silence anymore. It was getting too loud."
"The silence is prevalent here," Zoe countered with a gaze that shifted back to Simon and River. "You should be resting while you can anyway. Keep from hurting that arm more than it already is. Captain will be expecting you back to work soon enough."
Jayne ignored Zoe's attempt to brush him off and send him on his way back to the ship. He really didn't care much for her trying to mother him either, which was an awkward action on Zoe's part. Jayne still hadn't managed to wrap his mind around the fact that she'd entered into full motherhood. It was weird for him to even think about. Fact of the matter was, Jayne preferred Zoe as Mal's shadow with a voice of reason as opposed to the nervous overbearing woman she'd become.
"Jayne..." Zoe drawled patiently.
"I have just as much right to be here," Jayne snapped in return. His eyes remained steadily focused on their fallen comrade in the bed and his expression became stagnant. "Weren't for me, he wouldn't be here right now."
It took a great deal of effort for Zoe to swallow her sigh, but she managed to and sat up a little straighter in the chair. "No one is saying otherwise. You did a great service. Risked a lot."
Jayne shook his head slowly. "That's not what I'm talking about," he muttered. "This ruttin' fool wouldn't be here dyin' on us if he'd have just listened to me."
Zoe gradually returned her attention to the mercenary and was surprised to find the enormous amount of guilt reflecting in his eyes. "Simon made his own decisions. The consequences are his...not yours."
"The consequences ain't just his if he's part of this crew." Jayne shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching the hand that was hanging out of the sling. "He's supposed to be a genius, but he's an idiot at the same time. Now you tell me how that makes sense. 'Cause it don't. He ain't as smart as he claims to be."
"He made a mistake," Zoe responded with a tight shake of her head. "We're all guilty of that, more than our fair share."
"It don't make it right." Jayne rolled his shoulders and grimaced visibly as he turned his attention to Zoe. His eyes were tired and his features weathered; it wasn't the Jayne Zoe was used to seeing and she couldn't say she was happy to see him that way now. Jayne exhaled a rough sigh through his nose. "Guess I just needed to see for myself that the doc was still breathing and all."
"He's still banged up some," Zoe noted and it was hard for her not to fall back into a less than optimistic mindset as she said it. "The doctors have done what they can. The rest is up to him."
Jayne felt a flare of pain spread through his right bicep, causing him to subconsciously reach for the troublesome injury. The longer he stared at Simon's broken image, the further back he receded into his thoughts where he'd first found the battered doctor on the dirty floor of that cold cellar until finally he had to force himself to look away to clear his thoughts. "She been here this entire time?" he questioned dully with an absent nod of his head in River's direction.
Zoe nodded and although she wasn't sure if Jayne saw the motion, it didn't bother her none. "It's kept her calm and that's a far cry better than her slipping into a melt down not one of us can handle."
"Bit obsessed the way they look after one another," Jayne huffed before he stepped over to lean against the closest wall. "Think I'll take my ease here for a while."
"...I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Jayne," Zoe started to say. "Captain don't want no trouble caused."
"Ain't planning to cause no trouble," Jayne answered. He even looked a little put off by Zoe's assumption that he would consider causing a ruckus right then. Just the last thing he wanted to do was go back to Serenity alone where he couldn't stop his mind from getting away from him. "Figured I can sit with them a while. Let you get along to Emma, wherever the little ankle biter is."
Zoe's brow rose, the corner of her mouth twitching in a faint smile as she fought her surprise. "You feeling alright, Jayne? It's not like you to have a compassionate heart for these two. I think you might have hit your head."
"Makes me wish I DID hit my head," Jayne all but snorted. He adjusted the strap of the sling against his shoulder and allowed his body to sag a bit. "I still don't like 'em. Think we would have been better off without 'em a long time ago. Mal don't listen."
"Maybe Mal finally seen into it what you can't," Zoe replied as she slowly rose to her feet. She turned to move towards the doorway, suddenly anxious to get to where she'd left her daughter with Inara at the training house. "Don't cause any trouble, Jayne. You'll be on your own if you do."
Jayne muttered an unintelligible response, but he said nothing more as Zoe left the room. The echo of her boots carrying her down the hall faded gradually until all that Jayne heard were the soft breaths River inhaled and exhaled as she slept.
Pushing away from the wall, he quietly stepped over to the chair Zoe had vacated and lowered himself into it. His eyes flit to Simon in the bed once more, silently cursing the way the doctor had gone and gotten himself this side of killed because it sure as Hell had screwed them all over and then some. The crew should have been securing their next job and flying towards it days ago, not wasting their time in some whore training house medical facility while the doctor got himself patched up.
And yet, Jayne couldn't move himself past how Gorram guilty he felt for all of it.
Jayne grunted under his breath at the thought and rubbed tenderly at the dull ache in his forehead. "Couldn't find it in yourself to just listen to me," he muttered. "The Hell was you thinking? All proper and educated that you are. I tried to tell you. You wouldn't have gotten caught up with those wang bao dahn [dirty bastards sons of bitches] if you would have listened to me."
"He knows he should have listened."
The sound of River's voice echoed oddly and out of place in the room and caused Jayne to jump a bit in the chair. Turning his head to look at River, he found her sitting rigidly upright with eyes that were wide open and focused on him. Jayne scowled, his heart skipping a beat from the unexpected disturbance. "Shouldn't you still be sleeping?" he demanded.
River stared back at him, unblinking. "Sleep is a naturally recurring state of mind characterized by altered consciousness, relatively inhibited sensory activity, inhibition of nearly all voluntary muscles, and reduced interactions with surroundings," she stated blandly. "I'm not tired."
Jayne was a little baffled and taken aback, enough that he stumbled over his response at first and shifted uncomfortably in the chair under the scrutiny of River's stare. "...Well I ain't looking to be educated by no babbling fei hau [nonsense] coming out of your mouth," he said with an air of indifference. "Best you just keep it to yourself."
River tilted her head to the side in quiet wonder. "You hurt..." she murmured. "The pain is there, coming and going. It keeps reminding you."
"Now I'm just so enlightened," Jayne snorted sarcastically.
River appeared unphased by Jayne's brash demeanor as she drew her knees up to her chest in the chair. "You're angry."
"You're gorram right I am," Jayne muttered, although his voice betrayed him in the way it projected. And he couldn't get himself to look at River as he spoke either. There was something about the way she stared at him that unnerved Jayne, more so than her typical unwavering robotic-like stare that had a habit of surfacing when she slipped into one of her silent captive mind states. Although, those weren't nearly as frequent those days. Yet it still didn't keep Jayne from believing that the girl was just as crazy as he'd always known her to be though. He didn't think that would ever change, no matter how much Simon wanted to believe he could fix his sister.
River absently twirled a string of her dark hair around her index finger; her hair looked to be in desperate need of washing, more than usual. Her troubled eyes remained fixated on Jayne with calculated interest. "You saved Simon," she stated firmly.
Jayne's brows furled and creases of stress appeared in his forehead. "I didn't do nothing," he said stiffly.
"You're wrong," River answered him with a frown that was clearly visible, almost as if she disapproved of his choice of response. "You took his bullet...saved his life. You tell yourself you did it so the captain won't be angry, but you did it because you feel guilty...because Simon didn't listen."
"Don't make no difference, one way or the other," Jayne replied as he shook his head.
"...You did it because you care," River added quietly a moment later.
"You don't understand nothin' 'bout carin'," Jayne told her pointedly. "And there ain't a gorram part of me that cares about you or your brother. Not a power in the Verse that can change that either. Ya hear me?"
River shrunk a bit in the chair from the acidity in Jayne's tone. She nodded as she returned her attention to Simon. "Moonbrain hears and comprehends..." she murmured, her tone no longer sounding certain.
If Jayne didn't admit that he actually felt guilty right then for how he'd just spoken, then he would have been lying. What he said wasn't entirely true, not now at least, but it wasn't something he'd readily admit to. He didn't care much for realizing that maybe he had developed a minimal soft spot for the Tam siblings after all and River was right...Jayne had done everything in his power down in that cellar to take that bullet that had been intended for Simon. That still didn't mean they were by any means his favorite people. Jayne didn't have favorite people. He had a favorite gun and that was about as far as his favorites went.
Jayne wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn't, not when he couldn't even forgive himself for anything.
The silence didn't last for long before River's voice penetrated the room again. "Zoe was right. You should rest. She's a good mother. Has to be extra good without Wash. Kaylee worries about you too."
"I don't need no one worrying about me," Jayne relented with a considerably softer demeanor than before. He ran a hand wearily over his face and rest his eyes shut for a spell. "Especially you, when you go off talking all crazy like."
"You have a very complex brain, Jayne," River returned with a soft laugh that barely penetrated the air. "It's interesting, like a puzzle. I like puzzles."
Jayne snorted inwardly and pried his eyes open. "What'd I say about you talking all crazy like?"
"Your brain says more than your mouth. It betrays you, just like your heart does," River said.
"Gorramit, girl. You're starting to anger me..." Jayne's voice trailed off in warning. "Don't reckon I have me the patience to listen to any more of your mouth running."
"I know," River shrugged. "But your mind is loud. It's never quiet."
"Stay out of my head," Jayne snapped.
"The Verse would like to stay out of your head. It's a storm of catastrophes," River casually quipped.
Riddles. Jayne swore up and down that River only spoke in riddles and ones that he couldn't make much sense of. Senseless mutterings they often sounded like. It left Jayne wondering if River was capable of speaking in any other way or had she always spoken in that manner? It didn't matter none, he supposed. River would still be an utter mystery to him and she would still cause him headaches when he actually tried to figure her out.
"I'm not making sense," River sighed when Jayne failed to respond to her. She fidgeted nervously in her chair and Jayne briefly wondered if she was on the brink of another mental break down. "The human mind can only take so much. It's information overload."
"Then how's about you stop talking before you go waking this whole place? Disturbing the patients and the people doing the doctoring. Can't nobody get any rest in this place with your constant yammering," Jayne said and then muttered in addition, "Problem is you're still too fong luh [loopy in the head]."
"Simon can't fix me..." River whispered. "He has to fix himself..."
They didn't speak anymore after that and fell into a comfortable silence, as comfortable of a silence as Jayne could perceive it to be. So long as River stopped talking and allowed him the chance to fall back into the dark depths of his murky thoughts, a place Jayne had been drowning in for days. It didn't make him feel any better though and right then, Jayne wasn't sure what would or if he'd be able to handle his guilt much longer.