Everyone was tiptoeing around her, and Zoe was sick of it. Her injury was healed, and it wasn't as though she was the only one who had lost anything. They'd all lost Wash. He'd belonged to everyone, not just her. Yet everyone was acting as though she was some kind of a fragile, breakable figurine. River had lost a brother. Kaylee had lost a. . .well. . .whatever Simon was to her.

"Hey, Zoe!" It was Jayne, of course, who acted the most normal. He nearly skidded into the bridge, falling into a wall before he righted himself. "Come quick! You know that miracle Inara's always talking about? It's finally happened!"

Zoe nodded her head, checked the instruments one last time to make sure everything was on the level – which it was, of course. River was a better pilot than her late husband, even she was willing to admit, and Kaylee had been working double hours ever since Miranda, so the ship didn't so much as hiccup before it had been soothed and fixed. Certain that the ship was on track, she followed the mercenary back toward the infirmary, interested in what exactly the miracle would be.

Upon entering the med room she was met with a sight that brought tears to her eyes. Everyone was clustered around the central bed, where Simon had been ever since they'd brought him back from the Alliance med chamber. River was seated on the right hand side of his bed, right near his pillow, where she'd been pretty much permanently, except with flying. On his left hand side Kaylee was kneeling, her face pressed into the young man's shoulder. Mal stood back slightly, his arm around Inara, and Jayne was practically leaping up and down in the middle of the room. Simon, meanwhile, turned a beautific smile toward her. When he took in her visage, it slowly dropped.

"Zoe. . ." he said lowly. "I'm so sorry. . ."

And that was it, it was just too much, this beautiful young boy who'd had a hole ripped out of his chest, who'd given up career, family, and a life that he loved, who'd been forced to admit that his sister had been lobotimized and turned into an assassin, turning and telling her that he was sorry.

"We all lost him!" Zoe exclaimed, and suddenly she couldn't see the scene anymore, not through the tears in her eyes. "Didn't we all lose him? Didn't he mean anything to anyone but me?"

"Zoe, of course he did!" Inara exclaimed, at the same time that Mal said "He was part of the crew" and Kaylee said "I loved him."

"He was all right," Jayne said, which Zoe knew was as much as she could get out of him.

"Then stop acting like I'm the only one who lost anything!"

Zoe turned and left the room. She didn't run until she'd gotten away from the windows, away from where anyone could see her. Then she ran, ran like she hadn't run since her army days, maybe not since her grammar school days. She ran just to run, just to be free, just to be far, far away from those pitying looks, those sad eyes, the sight of everyone together—River, sane now, calm, comprehending; Kaylee's tears on Simon's shoulder; Mal's arm around Inara; Jayne, clueless as ever. . .

Yes, they'd all lost someone. But she seemed to be the only one who hadn't gained anything in return.

* * * * *

"Poor Zoe," Kaylee said. She brushed away the last of her tears with the back of her hand, straightened her spine a little.

"She's right," Inara said. Everyone turned to look at the Companion, even Jayne somewhat hushed by Zoe's uncharacteristic outburst. "We have all lost. A lot. But we're pretending that we haven't, that Zoe's the only one who is missing anyone."

"We lost crew," Mal agreed. "We should remember him."

"And Shepherd," Kaylee said. "Definitely Shepherd."

"Mr. Universe," River said. "All of those other people. Poor people, dying for a secret they didn't even know they were protecting."

"I'll put together some stones," Jayne said. "Won't be pretty, though."

"None of them were pretty men," Mal said. "Not hung up on appearances." Kaylee remembered Wash's shirts, those floral prints which always brought a little life, a little color to the grey Firefly.

"It could be pretty, though," Simon said thoughtfully. "Could be beautiful. Jayne!" The doctor winced as he turned toward the mercenary. Kaylee immediately reached out and grabbed his arm, offering what minimal support she could. She herself felt almost as good as new—even the scars were fading from her neck. No surprise, she thought, as Simon didn't even acknowledge her.

"Huh?" Jayne said, turning around. Ever a man of action, Kaylee thought wryly, he was already going to get his hands dirty.

"You remember," Simon said urgently. "When we went to Ariel, when I was looking at River's brain. . .you remember what that looked like?"

"Colors, light, like a television without a screen," Jayne said, almost fondly. "Real shiny."

"I could replicate that, with their visages," Simon said. He turned to Mal. "I just need a picture, a memory card. . .something. . ."

Mal gently let go of Inara, his hand sliding along her shoulder as he wordlessly went out the door. Simon settled back, breathing a little harder. Kaylee reached up, not sure if she dared. She bit her lip, and brushed her hand across his forehead, moving his bangs out of his eyes. Simon looked at her, a curious expression in his blue, blue eyes.

Swell, Kaylee thought bitterly. Was she the only one who remembered something about sex being mentioned?

She stayed in the infirmary all afternoon, helping Simon connect and reconnect wires and reflective surfaces. For all of his confidence earlier, he wasn't completely certain how to create the visages. All for the best, though, Kaylee realized, as it kept her mind and hands occupied. She wasn't sure what everyone else had been up to, but when Jayne came in to announce that he was ready. He'd dolled himself up a bit, Kaylee noticed, his arm still in a sling beneath the clean coat he'd scavenged somewhere.

"We're done, too," she said brightly, standing. But Simon's hand prevented her from walking out the door. "What?" she asked, a note of hope entering her voice. Was he asking her to stay? Was he admitting how he felt?

"Hold on," he said. "I'm coming, too."

"That's ridiculous!" Jayne protested. "You ain't been on your feet in days. You were shot!"

"So were you," Simon pointed out. He gestured with his head toward the back closet. "There's a crutch in there," he said. "That'll be enough."

"Simon, I really don't think this is a good idea," Kaylee said, wincing with every muttered oath that he made as he pulled himself to his feet. She certainly wasn't going to help him, what with him being lamebrained and everything. Still, somehow he got upright, if a bit wobbly. Taking pity on him, she went to his free side, gently held his elbow and guided him out the door.

* * * * *

Jayne didn't like funerals. He didn't like funerals, he didn't like tears, and he didn't much care for dead people either. But something felt right, standing on the barren cliff, with Wash's smiling face in front of him. Hell, something felt right about little Kaylee and the doc holding hands, River standing on her own, Inara and Mal so close. Something felt right about Zoe standing in bride's white rather than widow's black.

Then again, he thought as Zoe laid the flowers down beside the visage of her late husband, maybe the only thing that felt right was the gun at his hip and the cigar in his mouth.

Two things that always, always felt right.