A/N: Hopefully this will help to answer some questions for everyone ... also, this chapter will set up the major story arc of part 3 - A NEW DAY ... just a little hint to get your minds going!

Thanks to Leiasky for the beta - she totally ROCKS!

Please read and respond - it's addicting!

***

A NEW BEGINNING, ch. 24: Aftermath

***

Mal and Zoe had ridden back to Millie’s in silence, Mimi’s still sleeping form cradled against Ellie in the back seat. They had called ahead and asked that Millie come out and stay with Inara while the two ex-soldiers formed a plan. The woman had graciously agreed and after sitting with the doctor for a bit, she had let Mal know that his wife would be fine, she would just need time to heal.

Mal had barely acknowledged her words of encouragement. His mind was consumed with rage and revenge and although he did not like the churning of acid in his gut, he seemed unable to feel anything else. If Zoe had noticed his more than stoic countenance, she made no mention of it as they finally pulled the mule up to the house.

With a sigh, Mal dragged himself out of his seat, noting that the afternoon was over as the light started to wane. Reaching for his daughter, he pulled her up and out of her seat, bringing her small form to rest against him. She murmured a bit in her sleep and Mal shushed her, while moving with her inside, Ellie and Zoe following.

The kids were out and about, and so Millie’s place was quiet. Putting Mimi to rest on Ellie’s bed and asking the older girl to look after her, Mal joined Zoe back on the porch, a heaviness to his heart that he did not like.

Zoe regarded him for a moment and then, when it became obvious he would not be the one to break their silence, she asked, “Inara gonna be all right?”

Mal nodded once, blinking back a few more tears that had threatened to form in his eyes. He had not told Zoe about the baby, the baby that Inara was no longer carrying, he just hadn’t been able to. Staring out into the golden haze, he murmured harshly, “I want them dead.”

Nodding once, Zoe had expected that to be his answer. Following his gaze into the distance she asked, “You got a plan?”

Setting his jaw, Mal jammed a fist on the hard wood railing of the porch, not wincing as a sharp pain shot through his knuckles. Still not meeting her gaze, he bit out, “Yeah, point and shoot.”

Zoe watched him for a moment more wondering if now was really the time to call her friend on his asinine plotting abilities. She knew that his anger over what had happened to Inara was coloring his thoughts now, and that included any reasoning skills he possessed, and although she did not want to anger him further, she also did not want to be killed today – if it could be avoided.

Deciding to risk it, Zoe told him, “Not that I don’t see the validity of that plan, sir, but—“

“She was pregnant, Zo.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Zoe let her friend’s words register before she found her own voice. “What?” she breathed.

Finally meeting her eyes with his, Zoe was shocked by the pain and grief she saw there. It was a level of anguish she had only seen Mal exhibit a handful of times and it brought the harsh reality of their situation into startling relief. Turning fully to face her, Mal repeated quietly, “Inara was pregnant. She was about two months along.”

Blinking back a few unexpected tears, Zoe told him truthfully, “I’m sorry, Mal.” He nodded once, but made no move to elaborate, so she asked, “Is ‘Nara gonna be all right?”

Mal returned his gaze to the flat expanse before him and said sullenly, “Yeah, the doc says she’ll be fine and Millie agrees with him. Says she can probably have another baby, if she wants.”

Zoe digested this info and waited a moment before addressing him again. With a new level of anger and vengeance burning brightly within her, she told him, “Well, then, what are we waitin’ for? I say we take aim.”

***

Dusk had fallen by the time Mal and Zoe were ready to put their plan into motion. Using a few contacts that Zoe had made planetside, as well as their new friend Willis, they had managed to track down the location of Stef and Igor’s transport. Secretly, Mal was surprised they had not already blown off planet, but he was even more glad. He would not have been a happy man if he couldn’t have ended this – quickly.

As he prepped his sidearm, waiting for Zoe to say goodbye to Ellie, Mal’s thoughts were lost in a swirl of memories all revolving around Inara. He remembered with a tight smile Mimi’s birth; oh, she had cursed him something fierce the whole time, and while at first Mal had been a bit offended, as the labor went from one day into two, even he had doubted the brilliance of procreation. But then, when it was all done, they’d had Mimi, their perfect little girl with dark curly brown hair and eyes just like her mama and the ability to drive her mother insane, just like her daddy.

Mal had been looking forward to the chance to be a father again. He had loved it when Mimi was a baby, and he could pick her up when she cried and stop her fussing. He still could, he supposed, but the older the girl got, the more she relied on Inara to take her hurt away and that killed Mal; if there was one thing in the ‘verse he wanted to do it was protect his girls.

Blinking back hot tears as he considered he’d already failed at that in the most spectacular way, he heard the screen door creak open and turned in the direction, hoping to see that Zoe was finally ready. He was completely surprised when he saw Mimi’s big brown eyes staring at him, her little hand pushed against the door, as she stood in between the outside and the inside regarding him.

Smiling at her, he put his gun down at his side, and sat forward a bit. Motioning to her, he asked quietly, “You gonna stare at me all night or are ya gonna give me a hug?”

With a small smile of her own, Mimi charged towards him and threw her arms around his neck, as Mal pulled her into a tight embrace from behind, lifting her up and onto his lap. Pressing a kiss into her soft curls, he murmured, “You okay, darlin’?”

Shaking her head vehemently, she kept her head buried against his chest as she said, “I don’ want ya to go.”

Looking down at her, Mal saw her brown eyes fill with tears and his heart broke just a little more. He’d already exposed his heart to a whole range of emotions today and now, seeing his little girl cry was just another one that only proved to cause him additional pain.

“I gotta go, baby,” he told her, again resting his cheek against her hair and rocking her a bit. “I gotta go and make sure it’s safe.”

“’Cause o’ mama?” Mimi asked quietly, wiping her small hands across her cheeks to get rid of her tears.

“Yes, sweetheart, ‘cause of mama. She got hurt today and that ain’t right. I gotta make sure thems that did it don’t ever do it again.” Kissing her once more, Mal tilted her face up to meet his and asked, “Dong ma?”

Mimi nodded hesitantly and then wrapped her arms around his neck once again. Kissing him solidly on the cheek, she whispered, “Please don’ get hurt, daddy.”

Squeezing her tightly, he looked up over her shoulder as Zoe walked out. “I won’t baby. I’ll be back real soon.” Pulling away from her, Mal set her down on the porch and said, “Now, you mind Miss Marie, ya hear?”

She nodded once and then turned sadly away from him to go back inside. Stopping before Zoe on the way, she waved her hand towards the tall woman, and Zoe knelt in front of her. “Take care of ‘im, ‘kay?”

Smiling, Zoe pressed a kiss to her cheek and told her, “I will, darlin’. Don’t you fret.”

With another heavy sigh, Mimi regarded her dad once more from over her shoulder and then slowly made her way into the house. As Mal watched her go, he rose and holstered his gun, shaking off his feelings of sadness and replacing them with anger. Looking to his friend, he told her firmly, “Let’s get this over with.”

***

River was frozen in front of the computer terminal in the cockpit of her mother’s transport when Jayne found her. He had gone looking for her again, as she did always seem to be disappearing on him, and when he’d found Regan and inquired after her, the older woman’s wide gaze and pale skin had instantly put him on edge. As soon as she had admitted where River had been heading, he’d made a beeline for the ship, his anxiety only rising with every step he took.

Now as he watched her from the cockpit’s entrance, her body hunched over the screen, her arms at her sides as she sat on her hands, her curtain of dark hair obscuring her face from his view, he inhaled sharply and paused. He had no idea what River was looking at or why it should make her so upset, but he could tell based on her posture that whatever she was reading was devastating her.

Taking a deep breath, Jayne entered the room and sat in the chair at her side, where he too could get a good look at the screen that had her mesmerized. It took him a few moments to focus on the glowing text, his eyes needing to adjust on the small words. He recognized the Alliance, Parliament and Blue Sun seals immediately and that instantly set his heart racing. Anything where those three were involved could in no way be considered good.

Leaning forward, Jayne read through the first few paragraphs, wondering what in the world any of this information had to do with River. It was discussing experiments and results; drugs and their effects; neural conditioning and triggers – and at that last moment Jayne realized with a cold finality exactly what these records were and exatly why River was frozen with shock. They were about her.

Swallowing past the bile that had churned up his throat, Jayne looked to her and saw that she was not moving. Risking her wrath, he reached to the screen’s controls and forwarded the data, getting confirmation of his fears. The next screen showed a picture of River, probably taken when she’d first been sent to the Academy, but her nonetheless. And this information, played out across the screen in neat rows of yellow lettering began to detail, in agonizingly disinterested prose, all they had done, all they had tried, all they had succeeded and failed to accomplish by toying with her mind and body.

More than half of it made no sense to Jayne, the terms and language they used much too technical for him to comprehend, but he could get the gist and it made him angry, so angry he wanted to hit something – hard. But he knew, probably from the years he’d spent with River, that violence wasn’t going to solve anything, especially not now. There was no one left to hurt, not one of those hun dans who had done any of the atrocities he was now faced with in vivid detail were left to pay for their crimes. And in reality, it wouldn’t take away any of the damage they’d inflicted. Taking a deep breath, Jayne turned to his wife and speaking in as measured tone as he could, asked quietly, “What’s all this?”

River did not speak for several moments. She had known he was coming to her, known that in those few minutes it had taken him to get to the ship, she should have thought of way to hide her pain, hide her grief. But River knew that wasn’t possible. This knowledge, the cold, hard data she was confronted with now, wasn’t something someone could dismiss, it wasn’t something to be pushed aside. It had been for too long and now the knowledge of it was going to kill her.

Finally, River was able to answer him. “Me.”

It was one word, so simple and so pained that Jayne immediately felt his heart thud in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he said, “That ain’t you. You’re sittin’ right in front of me.” Looking back to the screen and then back to her, he asked, “What’s this?”

Sighing heavily, River blinked back a few tears. With a shaky hand, she reached up to the screen and turned it off, the cockpit flooding with a dim bluish tint from the other dormant dials, the only source of light as night had descended outside. Jayne watched her intently, studying every movement she made, waiting for her to confide in him; waiting for her to tell him how to help.

Still not willing to face him, she said sullenly, “There’s nothing you can do, Jayne.” Pulling her eyes up and to his face, he could see her expression through the wavy curtain of her dark hair. It was hollow, cold and distant and Jayne sucked in a sharp breath as he realized why her sadness looked so familiar – it was the same look he’d seen for those weeks following the death of their child. “I am what they made me,” she finished quietly, her voice barely audible.

Going to her finally, Jayne spun her around in the chair so she was facing him. Taking her hands, he looked up into her face even as she refused to meet his gaze. “You ain’t nothin’ like what they wanted.”

River still would not look at him, but answered quietly, “You’re wrong, Jayne.”

Frowning at her, Jayne told her, “I ain’t never wrong.” River did not take the bait and smile at his joke. Reaching out a hand, he brushed it against her face, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Quietly, he said, “It ain’t gonna help ya to keep it all bottled up.” When more minutes of her silence ticked by, Jayne added, “It’s just gonna make you all uptight and I think your brother’s uptight enough for all o’ us.”

At the mention of Simon, River bit her lip and rose suddenly, pacing away from him and into the transport’s small hallway. Jayne waited until the count of ten and then rose to follow her, regarding her again from the doorway, as she paced with her arms wrapped around herself.

When she finally shuddered from a huge sob and doubled over, Jayne decided that giving her space was a stupid idea. Rushing to River’s side, he wrapped her up and against him, feeling her entire body convulse against him as she cried hard. “They did it, Jayne,” she wailed, clutching at his shirt with a ferocity that took his breath away. “It was them, I was right.”

Swallowing past another rising lump in his throat, Jayne smoothed a hand through her hair as he asked, “Did what, baby?”

“They made it so I couldn’t have her,” she explained, turning her pained face up to him. The sight of so much heartache, so much despair in her brown eyes, brought tears to his own and he blinked them back quickly. “They didn’t want me to have children, not unless they decided to …” River trailed off, her disgust at the thought rising in her throat and making it impossible for her to speak.

Rubbing her back lightly, Jayne didn’t want her to finish that statement; he feared what she was about to say, but he also knew it wasn’t fair for her to keep all that information, all the horror of what she’d just been confronted with locked inside. She’d had to keep devastating secrets before and the outcomes had been deadly.

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, Jayne finally asked, “Unless they what, darlin’?”

River shook her head against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding fast. “Doesn’t matter,” she murmured, her voice muffled as she buried her head against him.

“Yes, it does,” Jayne told her firmly, placing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to meet his gaze. “What’d they do to you?” Jayne couldn’t believe he’d managed to get the question out with a steady voice. His gut was churning uncontrollably, as his fear continued to rise at what her answer might be.

River could barely wrap her own brain around the concept, around what those men had been capable of, were still capable of. She knew that were they given the chance they would take her again in a heartbeat. The thought chilled her and she shivered against Jayne. Letting out a heavy sigh, she said, “They made it so they could control the passing on of my … talents.” She said the final word with such a sense of disgust that Jayne visibly flinched.

“How?” he asked, still wishing she would look at him, but knowing that the pain he’d see in her face would render him speechless.

River shook her head again and finally did raise her eyes to his face. He had been right before, the pain in her eyes coupled with her helplessness made his knees weak and only his desire to be strong for her kept him standing. “They injected me with a virus,” she told him, her voice dropping to a barely audible level. “A strand of something that would manifest halfway through my second trimester.” Blinking back more tears, River continued. “Something that would destroy the baby and make it impossible for me to carry to term.”

Jayne’s anger, which he had been trying to control simmered now, hot and on the surface. He tightened his hold on his wife as she began to cry again. He didn’t know what to do and that’s what he hated most. He had no way to help her, no way to fix this and Jayne was tired of feeling helpless. It was an emotion he was not accustomed to and it was one he’d been forced to deal with too often in the past few months.

“I could have saved her.”

River’s statement was so soft Jayne barely heard it. Looking down into her face, he saw that her eyes were searching just over his shoulder. Knowing there was nothing there, he realized she was looking for something in her memory, trying to pull out a particular moment that would help to shed light on all they had just learned.

Placing his hand under her chin, Jayne raised her face to look at his and saw the trails of tears that had run down her cheeks. Wiping against one cheek with his thumb, he asked her softly, “How?”

River pulled away from him and ran back to the cockpit, hitting dials and switches that Jayne knew from experience would soon put them in the air. Walking up behind her, Jayne wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hands back from the controls. Leaning down so his head was resting against her shoulder, he whispered, “Where’re you goin’, darlin’?”

She struggled against him as she said, “To get her back. I have to go get her back.”

Kissing her cheek gently, Jayne held her firm even as she continued to push against him. “You can’t, baby girl. She ain’t comin’ back.”

“But she didn’t have to die, Jayne,” River told him, trying one last time to break out of his hold. When she was unable to, she slumped back in the chair, her chest heaving from the exertion. “There was a cure, an antidote. If I’d gotten it in time, I could have had our baby.”

This information brought tears to Jayne’s eyes and he blinked them back yet again. Burying his face into her soft hair, he whispered, “There’s no way we could o’ known that and prolly no way we could o’ gotten it neither.” River sighed heavily and Jayne knew more tears were dripping down her face.

Spinning her chair to face him, Jayne knelt before her again, and cupped her face in his hands. His palms were soon wet from her tears, and reaching up, he gently kissed her, once on each cheek, and then pulled away. After a moment, River threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry, Jayne. It was my fault, it was me.”

Holding her tight, Jayne lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Carrying her from the cockpit, he made it to one of the transport’s appointed rooms and sat down with her in his lap on a comfortable looking couch. She pulled back from him slightly as they sat, and brushed her hair back off her shoulders.

Finally, he said, “It weren’t you, River. I don’t know how to make you understand, but it weren’t. You didn’t do this and if’n you could have stopped it, I know you would have.” River nodded once, and then looked to him and this time Jayne could not fight the tears he felt welling in his eyes.

Cupping her face in his hands, he brought their foreheads together and whispered, “Ai ya, I love you so much, I wish there was somethin’ I could do to make this easier for you. I wish I had known you all them years ago, ‘cause I never would have let ya go to that place.”

Smiling ever so slightly, River told him quietly, “Yes, you would have. You wouldn’t have liked me then, I was a brat.”

But Jayne would not let her make light of this. Pulling back to look deep in her eyes, he said, “Tell me what to do, baby. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Anything.”

River felt the sincerity in his words along with his need to be useful to her, to feel like he was easing her pain, even though they both knew it would never be that simple. Her eyes watering still, she whispered, “Forgive me.”

Jayne looked to her for just another moment and then leaning forward he kissed her, hard and deep on the mouth. He wanted to ease her pain, if he could, he wanted her to know that he loved her, that he would never stop loving her and that he could never blame her, not for this. Pulling back slightly, he breathed against her cheek, “There ain’t nothin’ to forgive, ‘cause I ain’t never blamed you.”

At his words, River locked her arms around his neck and kissed him back, teasing at his lips with her tongue before pushing through and exploring his mouth. She needed him, in a way she had not previously before. She needed him to hold her and love her and remind her that she was alive and a woman and still capable of loving. She felt so worthless, so incapable of anything at that moment, that all she could think of was the man before her, his hot breath on her skin, his desire for her, his hands holding her and touching her.

Jayne pulled back slightly, panting for air even as River trailed hot kisses down his jaw and along his neck. Knowing that soon he would be more than worked up, Jayne groaned, “River …”

She stifled his next statement with another desperate kiss that rendered him speechless. When she finally pulled back, she placed both her hands on his face, and leaned over to his ear. “Love me, Jayne,” she whispered to him.

Looking into her eyes, Jayne’s question rose to his lips. “You sure?”

She nodded once and bit back more tears, “Please. I need you,” and with that, she placed another urgent kiss to his mouth, running her light hands across his chest and all Jayne could do was love her back.

***

By the time Mal and Zoe had disposed of Stef and Igor, morning was again dawning, bright and hot. Wearily the two ex-soldiers drove the mule back towards town, Mal’s concern for his wife now almost to the point of choking him.

When he’d been out on the job with Zoe, hunting down the hundans who had hurt his wife and killed his unborn child, all his rage and anger had had a clear focus, a purpose. It had fueled his actions, driven him to exact justice he would normally have hesitated to take. But now, as he watched the first few buildings of the town speed by, he felt that rage and vengeance recede, until they were just sadness and grief.

Zoe slowed the mule as they reached the doctor’s small clinic. She watched her friend closely out of the corner of her eye, trying not to stare. She could read his grief, rolling off of him in waves. Zoe was fairly used to his sorrowful tendencies – she had survived the better part of the war with him, but still this …. This was totally new territory for him and Zoe knew that a man like Mal, who was not only proud, but deeply loving, would have a rough time bouncing back from this type of tragedy.

He sat staring at the door to the clinic, unmoving for many moments. Finally, Zoe asked quietly, “You want me to come along?”

Turning to his friend with a sadness that aged him, he told her softly, “Nah, that’s okay. Why don’t you head back to Millie’s, spend some time with Ellie.”

Zoe nodded once, not at all opposed to that idea. She had missed her baby girl while she’d been gone and was only too happy to go home and hold her again. Reaching out a hand, Zoe squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and said, “I’ll let Mimi know you and ‘Nara are all right and that she can see you both later.”

Nodding his thanks to her, Mal reached up and covered the hand she’d rested against his shoulder, before heaving himself out of the mule’s front seat with a heavy sigh. Zoe watched as he walked up to the door, squaring his shoulders in front of it and then resolutely strode through.

With a heavy heart, Zoe revved the mule and headed out of town, trying to think of a way to ease her friend’s pain. As the early morning wind whipped by, she tried to convince herself it was the sting that was causing the tears she kept blinking away.

***

The doctor was up and about when Mal entered, surprising him. He had thought for sure he’d find the little clinic devoid of any activity and he paused just inside the door as he watched the older gentleman move about.

Turning to face Mal, the man’s expression turned to one of pity as he greeted him. “Good morning, Captain.”

Nodding to him once, Mal looked anxiously down the hall towards where he knew his wife would be. Following his gaze, the doctor said, “You can go see her if you want. Millie’s been with her all night.”

Mal nodded his thanks unwilling to trust his voice just yet. As he moved to head in the direction of Inara’s room, the doctor said quietly, “She doesn’t know.” Mal stopped, but did not turn back as he added, “We didn’t tell her anything, just as you asked.”

“Thanks doc,” he grunted, his voice barely recognizable from the emotion he was fighting to contain and his lack of sleep. He moved down the hallway and stood in front of Inara’s room, the door opened just a crack. He could see Millie’s slumped over form, sitting in a chair next to the bed, her head lolling into her chest as she nodded off.

Walking into the room, he gently nudged her awake by placing a light hand to her shoulder. Blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes, Millie looked up to him a sad smile gracing her features. Rising slowly, she let him have her seat, moving to leave. Grabbing her hand, Mal squeezed it in thanks. “I really ‘preciate you stayin’ with her,” he whispered, still trying to fight back the sadness he felt overwhelming him.

“No thanks necessary, Mal,” she told him and then, with one final and sad look to Inara, she was gone.

Turning to face his wife’s sleeping form, Mal felt the grief he’d been trying to fight, pound against his chest, clamoring to be released. With a heavy sigh and a hard swallow, he again pushed it down in his gut, causing his already sick stomach to churn even more violently. But it didn’t matter – nothing mattered to him right now other than his beautiful wife and her recovery.

Reaching out with a shaky hand, he covered one of hers, his thumb absentmindedly stroking along the back of her hand, careful to watch the deep bruises that hundan had left on his wife’s perfect skin. Reaching out with his other hand, he brushed a few of her dark curls back from her forehead, exposing a gash that the doctor had stitched up. It would probably leave a scar, the man’s talents being no where near Simon’s, but at least they had been able to stop the bleeding and determine that other than a concussion and the loss of her child, Inara had not suffered any other permanent damage.

With a sudden sob welling in his throat, Mal dropped his forehead to her hand and took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself. When he again raised his eyes to her face, he saw her eyelids starting to shift, and he knew she would be awake soon and she would ask him if their baby was all right and he would have to tell her. But how?

Inching closer to her, Mal again placed his hand to her cheek as her dark brown eyes finally opened. “Hey there,” he murmured, smiling sadly at her, as he drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“Mal?” Her voice was rough and small, but it was steady, and she turned her head slowly in his direction. Taking in the tears he was trying to blink back, Inara clasped her other hand over his and asked, “Are you all right?”

Smiling at her concern, he continued to stroke her forehead as he told her, “Yeah, darlin’, I’m fine.”

“That woman?” Inara asked, working her mouth and tongue to form the words. She was still groggy and a little out of it from the pain medication the doctor had administered.

His stomach roiling more violently, Mal said, “Shh, don’t worry about her. They ain’t gonna hurt us, ever again.”

Bringing her eyes back to focus on his face, Inara felt tears welling there; tears of fear, grief and sadness. “Mimi?” she asked, her voice still breathless.

Trying his best to fake a smile, he told her, “She’s fine, bao bei. She’s back sleeping at the house, all snug in her bed.”

Inara let out an audible sigh and closed her eyes again. Mal watched as her breathing slowed and he thought for a fleeting moment that she might drift back off to sleep delaying the need for him to tell her the tragic news. But when she again rolled her head over to look at him and again opened her eyes to regard him, he saw the fear and pain in her features and knew that although he would have to confirm the loss of their child, somewhere, somehow, she already knew.

As he swallowed several times in an effort to form the words, Inara could see the pain on her husband’s face and she knew – knew before he even said anything that she was no longer pregnant. The fall she’d taken had been harsh and her baby, so small and unprotected, could not have survived it.

“Mal?” Inara’s voice was overcome with emotion as he again brought his gaze to meet hers. As she registered the tears pooling in the bottom of his eyes, she felt her own tears fall, her pain welling so violently in her chest, she felt her heart would crack. “No, no, no,” she whispered, over and over again, shaking her head back and forth, not caring about the wretched headache it was causing. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered.

Mal sat on the edge of her bed, keeping a tight hold of the hand she was trying so desperately to pull from his grasp. “I’m so sorry, ‘Nara,” he whispered, his voice already broken by tears that he knew he should not cry, but that he was powerless to stop. “The baby’s gone,” he finally managed to get out, and as he said the words Inara let lose a wail so loud, so pained, that it caused him to physically hurt.

With a strength he hadn’t expected, she wrenched the hand he held away from him and rolled over onto her side, facing away from him, burying her head in her pillow. Her sobs, loud and long, were muffled slightly by the fabric, but they still caused Mal to feel such sorrow he couldn’t breathe.

Crying his own silent tears, he reached out a hand to Inara’s shoulder, even as she continued to cry and murmur, “No, no, no,” over and over again, her hands falling flat against her stomach and resting there. When she would not turn back to face him, Mal slowly crawled into the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back to him. Kissing her temple and cheek repeatedly, he just kept telling her, “I’m sorry, ‘Nara. I love you,” again and again until she had cried all the tears she had and fell again into a fitful sleep.

***