"Well, Simon?" Mal asked, turning to the young doctor.
"Freya's right. Roxanna is sick. She's dying."
Kaylee's hand flew to her throat. "Dying?"
"She has a tumour, in fact several. I completed a scan just before we came up. She doesn't have long."
"Oh, no."
Mal stared at him. "Anything we can do?"
Simon sat down next to his wife. "Make her comfortable. And keep Hetter away from her. That's about it. The cancer is too widely spread to be treated, and she's refused everything except painkillers."
"She going to make it to Three Hills?"
"Honestly?" Simon shrugged. "I'm actually surprised she's still walking. The position of the tumour in her brain, the rapidity of its growth … she must be very strong-willed."
"She wants to see her child born," Zoe said, looking at her baby in the sling around Hank's body.
"The baby in any danger?" Mal asked, his eyes moving to his own son.
"Healthy, as far as I can tell." He paused a moment. "I have spoken to her about inducing the birth while she's still on board. Once she gets to Three Hills there may not be any medical help, and if she's … I think it would be better if she had the child here." He waited for the outburst.
"Think you might be right," Mal said softly, surprising him greatly. "Better she does it amongst friends."
"We don't know her," Hank pointed out.
"We know enough. Strong, willing to do anything … sounds like a lot of other women I know." Mal nodded. "You did right, doc."
"Thanks. Somehow that just doesn't seem to be enough."
---
Someone else in pain. Not just the usual generalised background of every day living, punctuated by the bright peaks of desire and fulfilment, but the stark pain of loss, of need never to be realised. Decisions to be made. Steps taken. One dies so one can live. Choice in a fettered world. So strange and odd to feel it here.
---
Roxanna sat on her bed, tears running down her cheeks.
"If you're planning on eating in your room, you should at least take some food with you," Freya said from the doorway.
Roxanna turned away, wiping her face. "I'm not hungry."
"No, but I bet that baby is." She let the other woman gather herself a little. "Do you want to talk? I'm a good listener. Ask anyone."
"I don't need company."
"And most folk will tell you I don't just go away when asked. Pretty persistent, if truth be told."
Roxanna couldn't help a little laugh. "Is that a fact?"
"It is. My husband'll tell you. I didn't leave him alone until he agreed to marry me."
"And I'm sure you don't leave him alone now, either." She looked up at the other woman.
Freya grinned. "Not for a minute." She sat down on the other end of the bed. "So. Talk?"
"Okay." She wiped at her cheeks again.
"Do you need another hankie? Only I've got quite a few -"
"No. I'm fine." Roxanna sniffed, then tucked the square of linen into her sleeve.
"I'm sorry about the Hetters," Freya went on. "We take passengers where we can, and unfortunately we can't be too choosy. Believe me, if Mal could, I think he'd like to space that man for what he said."
"I've heard worse. Regina isn't exactly … they have strong beliefs, and don't mind passing them on."
"Maybe, but that's no excuse. Is that why you wanted to leave?"
"Anywhere but Regina? Sure. My baby may be illegitimate, but I'm not having it being called a bastard by everyone."
That was better. The steel was showing itself again, Freya thought.
"So tell me about yourself."
"Me? I'm no-one."
"Yes you are. You're a mother to be. That's something important."
Roxanna stroked the large mound. "No. I'm just a … a way station on this little one's journey." She looked up. "I went to a fortune teller, when I found out I was pregnant. She said this baby's going to be special. Very special."
"All babies are."
"I guess." Her hand stilled on the swelling. "I'm afraid," she admitted, her voice small.
"Don't be. Mal won't let anything happen to you."
"Not for me. For my baby. Never knowing who … always wondering."
"What about the father?"
"He doesn't know. He was never going to be the love of my life." A small smile flittered across her face. "I didn't think I had a life to worry about. I already knew I was sick, but he was kind and gentle, just a man passing through."
"Don't you want him to know?"
"No. He didn't sleep with me expecting to be given a family. It was just a few days comfort."
"You're very philosophical about it."
"Can't be anything else. There's no point in ranting and throwing things. That might be fun in the short term, but it doesn't really change anything."
"I guess not."
"Your doctor … he said it might be better to have the baby on board, if I can. Proper medical care, that sort of thing."
"He's probably right. You must be almost full term."
"All but a week. I … I lied to your husband."
"Don't worry about it. People do that all the time."
"I was afraid he wouldn't let me on board."
"Mal surprises a lot of people."
"I suppose." Roxanna reached into her carpet bag. "If anything … " She swallowed. "If anything happens before I leave this ship, could you … would you keep this for my baby?" She held out a small journal.
Freya took it, reading the title. To My Baby, it said on the inside cover.
"It's just thoughts, feelings, that sort of thing. Bits and pieces I wanted him to know."
"It's a boy?"
"I don't know. I didn't … it was going to be a surprise." She smiled crookedly. "Only I'm so worried there won't be time now."
Glancing at the book in her hand, Freya nodded slowly. "I have one of these. For my children. Just in case."
"Just in case," Roxanna echoed. "Do you … do you know the sex of your child?"
"Not officially. But it's a girl."
Roxanna smiled. "I'd like a girl. Dress her in pretty clothes, give her tea parties, make things …" She choked, tears once again spilling down her cheeks. "And I won't see any of that."
Freya pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her, letting her cry her fill.
After a long minute Roxanna sat back up.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. We all need to do it once in a while."
"Even you?"
"Even me."
"But you seem so strong."
"No. Not really. I take my strength from the people around me."
"They must be special."
"They are."
"And is this one of yours?" Roxanna asked.
Freya turned, and smiled. "No. This one's Bethany. She's Simon and Kaylee's daughter." She looked at the little girl in the doorway. "What is it, honey?"
Bethany was looking at Roxanna. "Hello."
She smiled. "Hello."
"Uncle Mal said you can come back now because the hwoon dahn has gone."
Freya lifted her eyebrows. "Did Uncle Mal use those exact words?"
Bethie rolled her foot. "Nearly."
She suppressed a smile. "I think we need to go back over a few lessons, don't we?"
"Maybe." The foot roll became even more expressive.
Freya turned to Roxanna. "What do you say? I'm hungry, at least, 'specially as I'm eating for two." She saw Bethany's eyes widen - perhaps she hadn't been peeking as much as it appeared. "And some of it should be edible, even though I cooked it."
Roxanna looked unsure, then chuckled at the faces Bethany was pulling. "Sure. Why not?"
Freya smiled. "Good. And we're okay, you know," she added. "Once you get to know us." She looked back at the little girl, perfectly well aware of what she'd been doing, even though she now looked as innocent as the day. "Bethie, tell Uncle Mal we'll be along soon and to save us some food."
"Don't think that'll be a problem." She sighed theatrically, then turned and ran back up the stairs.
---
Friends. People. Welcoming. Maybe they aren't the corruption. Take their masks and they stay the same. Perhaps it comes from within, inside the unknown object. Seeping through pores it decays what it touches, changing because it is nameless. Unidentified and unfamiliar. Waiting.
---
Roxanna was back in her room, resting. Freya sat with her until she fell asleep, and now she slid the door closed, intent on heading for her own bunk.
Simon stood in the doorway to the infirmary, watching her.
Most people forgot. Her accent was closer to Mal's now, and vulgarities and words like ain't peppered her language. But she was Core-bred. Like him. He'd always felt close to her for that very reason, seeking her out to talk to when he needed someone. More even than Inara.
"Frey …"
She smiled at him. "River?"
He nodded. "Do you mind?"
"I think this might be the conversation we almost had on Paquin," Freya said, smiling at him.
"Did we?" Simon asked.
"Something about whether it mattered to me that I wasn't Elena anymore."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Pretty much." She lowered herself tiredly into the yellow armchair. "I've been so many people, Simon. Started out as Elena Rostov. The child." The smile died. "Then I became just a number, a thing to be tested and experimented on. And when I ran I was nothing. There was nothing. Until my mentor found me, gave me the control, and I became Freya Nordstrom, in memory of my friend." She looked up. "Now I'm Freya Reynolds. Wife, lover, mother. And so much more." She laughed. "Sometimes I wonder if I really exist at all."
"I think Mal would disagree with that."
"Probably. And he's right. I'm here, now, and that's the important thing."
"Could you tell River that? That it doesn't matter who you were, it's who you are now that counts?"
"Only that's not the problem, is it? She doesn't know who she is now. At least she thinks she doesn't."
"I don't care if she's related to me or not. We could have not one fragment of DNA in common, and she'd still be my sister. She was the little girl who corrected my spelling. She was the brat who broke into my locked drawer and stole my diary, leaving pages of it around the house. She was the one I gave everything up for. And I'd do it again. She's my sister, Frey."
---
Fear. Fear that without the bond of chemical ties he won't love. He can't love what isn't his. Just a word, six letters, but so strong it led him to find that which was lost. Still lost. Lost again. Don't look in the mirror because nothing looks back. Only emptiness.
---
Bethany waited until she saw Uncle Jayne head for the kitchen for a snack, then she walked quietly up to the shuttle.
"Auntie River, it's me." The little girl stepped inside. "I bought you something to cheer you up." She crossed to the bed and placed the big, green, slightly tatty toy Mal had won for her at the fair by the pillow. "I thought you'd like Jayne to keep you company."
She looked towards her aunt, but she kept her face turned away.
"It's okay," she added. "He won't turn into something else."
She saw her aunt jerk, as if a shot of electricity coursed through her, but she didn't look up.
Bethie sighed and went back to the door. "I have Uncle Mal and Auntie Frey. Uncle Hank, Auntie Zoe, Auntie 'Nara … 'N' I love them. 'N' I have Auntie River. 'N' I love her more. All family. All my family."
It was too much. She ran out of the shuttle, past Jayne outside on the catwalk, and back to her room, slamming her door and throwing herself onto the bed, overwhelmed by the despair. Fiddler howled.
And River heard, through the barriers and confusion in her mind, little Bethany's voice saying You're mine. 'N' that'll never change.
---
Serenity dropped through the atmosphere, the flames extinguishing as they neared the ground. Corvus had changed in the couple of years since they'd been by last. The worst of the fire destroyed homes had been levelled, and new houses arose in their place, while others had been repaired. There was no outward sign that Reavers had ever visited this little planet, but the fear was still locked in everyone's hearts. As the Firefly landed, faces peered out from windows and doors, but only one man came to greet them.
Simon walked down the ramp as it lowered. "Mr Harris."
"Simon. And please call me Eli."
They shook hands warmly.
"Eli." Simon glanced towards the house on the outskirts of town. "How is he?"
"A little worse every day," Eli admitted. "And the pain grows, I know that."
Simon lifted his bag. "Perhaps I can do something."
"Sure hope so. That man's been the saviour of this town for a long while. If he has to go, if it's his time … we want it to be easy."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Let me know when you can. I'll be at my own home."
"I will."
Eli Harris walked off back into town.
"You okay?" Mal asked, joining Simon outside.
"It's just …"
"Yeah." He put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Come on. Better see to your friend."
"Are you coming?" Simon was surprised.
"Sure. You got a problem with that?"
Simon managed a smile. "No. No problem." In fact he was pleased to have the captain's company.
"Then let's go."
Andrew's house stood back from the rest, perhaps just a little grander, but only a little. It was the house of a doctor, pillar of the community, friend to all. And the man in it lay dying.
Simon pushed open the gate to the yard, hearing the hinge squeal rustily, noting the weeds flourishing in the untended flower beds. He opened the door and the two men stepped inside.
"Andrew's bedroom is in the back," Simon said softly, almost as if he was in church.
"Lead the way," Mal said.
They walked through the house, into the main bedroom, coming at least face to face with the person they'd crossed the system to see.
Simon was shocked. The man they'd left on Corvus after the Reavers came had been tired, depressed even, but at least he hadn't been old. This … the man in the bed … he was ancient, his skin thin and loose on his bones. Quickly putting his case down, the young doctor opened it up, pulling the stethoscope from inside so he could start checking his old friend over.
"Anything you need?" Mal asked, himself appalled at the changes.
"No. Not yet. I just need to -"
Andrew Brooks opened his eyes and fastened on Simon. At first a smile tugged at his lips, then a cry erupted.
"No! No, Simon!" He grasped at the young man's hand. "You weren't supposed to come. You have to leave. Now!"
"Andrew, I came to see you. You're sick."
"I'm dying. My own fault. Not careful enough …"
"What are you talking about?"
"Simon, please, you must go. If they find you here …"
"Who?" When Andrew didn't answer, Simon leaned forward. "Who, Andrew?"
"Blue Sun."
