The whole damn ship watches 'her walk around like 'n empty shell. Like 'her soul's left 'her body. Like there's no reason to live. Refusing' to talk to us, like without Wash around, we're no longer a family on this ship.

I feel like there's no way to reach 'her, to grab 'her soul from where ever the hell it went off to and stuff it back into her body. We all know the only way that'll ever happen is if Wash rises up from the dead. And that ain't gonna happen.

My momma always told me "time heals all wounds." But I guess my momma can't be right all the time.

Zoë wants to die. Wash is dead, and Book is dead, this ship feels dead without 'em. We don't need her goin' 'n dyin too.

Wish I could be the man to help 'her heal. But I ain't strong 'enough.

I went to moon brain. Asked her if there was a way to bring her back to us. She ain't even been normal lately. Been more down about Wash and Book than all of us combined.

***

Jayne came to me today. To ask if I knew how to help Zoë. And I don't. I don't even know how to help myself. I've got the terrible grief of 6 people weighing on me during every second of every day. Add to those my own. The loss of two people who I knew more than anyone.

I can't figure out how to purge myself of these emotions. How to just feel my own feelings, my own grief.

Zoë is broken into too many pieces to put back together again. The one man able to piece it together is gone, and there's no one to fill that void. The six of us can't do it, no matter how much we want to.

I didn't know what to tell him. So I told him nothing. I cried. And he tried to console me, in his way. What he didn't know that it wasn't me crying.

She's a goddess, fallen from Olympus.