“Noticed anything odd?” asked Wash. The two were standing in the yard, breathing heavily after spending a half an hour playing a rousing game of catch with assorted pebbles. Wash had been unusually sober after the previous day’s discussion, and Mal knew that Wash’s mind was still filled with questions and conflicts. It hadn’t been the only odd thing about the mood that day.

“Khiloh?” Mal, too had noticed that the normally outgoing guard hadn’t wandered over to talk to them since he arrived; he’d been wandering around aimlessly for hours. On any normal day, he would have been leaning against the gate, cheering them on with friendly heckling and even joining the game by catching and lobbing back out of bounds stones.

Wash nodded. “Let’s go see what’s wrong with him.”

Mal lead the way over to the gate and waited for Khiloh’s patrol route to head him back to them. To his concern, Khiloh didn’t hurry over when he saw them at the gate. He just kept patrolling a beaten path, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact when he got near.

“Sir?” asked Mal, his voice stopping Khiloh gently in his tracks. Mal felt a spike of worry in his gut. He hadn’t seen an expression like that cross Khiloh’s face since their first tense meeting, and it told him something was very wrong.

“What’s wrong, Khiloh?” asked Wash.

Khiloh stood silently for an agonizingly long minute, refusing to look at them. When he finally raised his head to face the two men, his eyes were damp with tears. He stared at them mutely for a minute, finally pulling himself together to speak.

“My – son. We have a eight-year-old son –“ his voice broke, and he took several deep breaths. “He’s in the hospital, and they don’t have a clue what’s wrong with him.”

“Andy’s sick?” asked Wash, shocked. Ever since he and Khiloh had become friends years ago, he’d heard stories about their only son. It was somehow inconceivable that the boy could be seriously ill.

“Bad?” asked Mal.

Khiloh nodded. “They – they say it’s critical, if they don’t find out what’s causing it he could die,” he said, the last few words obviously hurting too much for him to control the tears he’d been fighting. “Like – soon.”

“I’m – so sorry,” said Wash, a worried expression on his face as he saw his friend standing before him in tears.

“Shouldn’t ya’ be with him?” asked Mal gently.

“Yeah,” said Khiloh with sudden bitterness in his voice. “My son is near death, of course I should be with him!” He gulped back his anger. “They won’t let me. I’m in the gorram military, and they won’t give me leave. I stay with my son instead of coming to work and keeping their rutting human warehouse running all tidy, they court-martial me.”

He glared out in fury. “I’m sure you’d agree that my keeping you two – that keeping my friends locked up is way more critical than being with my wife and son during the worst thing that’s – that’s ever happened to our family. If we lose him-”

Mal raised his eyebrows. “That’s cold. I mean, even for the Alliance that’s-“ he stopped short as Khiloh turned away, his emotions ripping away his self-control.

“I’m sorry,” said Khiloh. “I don’t mean to - he’s – well, he’s…..” Khiloh stopped, unable to speak.

“He’s yer son,” said Mal. “It’s all you gotta say. An’ I reckon that boy knows his dad loves him a lot.”

Khiloh turned and stared back at him gratefully, his expression anguished. “He does,” said Khiloh. “Just wish I could be there, you know? My wife is – she’s there, and I’m not even – she’s alone at the hospital with him, he’s – he’s so scared.” Khiloh looked like he was the one scared, and Mal remembered all the times this kind young man had reassured him with a single understanding glance.

“You spendin’ every moment you can with him?” asked Mal. Khiloh nodded. “Listen to me. You can do this, you’re very good at it. You tell that boy in no uncertain terms he’s gonna pull through, and you make sure he knows you’re not gonna let him give up. A person can make it through a lot if he has someone to keep him going. Danger is, if he gives up and decides to die chances are he will. So you and your wife let him know you love him too much to let him give up, dong ma?”

“You – sound like you know what you’re talking about,” said Khiloh shakily.

“Yes, I do,” said Mal softly. “You need to be scared an’ worry an’ cry, you do it right here with us. When you’re with your wife and that boy of yours, you’re gonna need to be the one to lead them.”

Khiloh gave a low, choking laugh through the tears in his eyes. “I can just see how thrilled the boss’d be to see me here right now. Not even supposed to talk to you guys ‘bout our families, you know. Pretty sure breakin’ down and crying and pretty much admitting I’m worthless for any sort of anything ain’t on the approved behavior list either. You guys wanna take me hostage and try an escape, here’s your chance because I don’t give a damn,” he said with a note of hysteria in his voice.

Khiloh leaned his weight against the gate and pressed his face against the bars, his eyes closed and his shoulders shaking. Damn, he’s not kidding, thought Mal. If they wanted too, either one of them could reach through and grab his gun in a second. Mal was both touched by his trust and concerned at just how overwhelmed he was. They better not see him like this.

Wash put a comforting hand on Khiloh’s arm and stood silently, casting a helpless look at Mal. Okay, this – I’m not exactly prepared for, thought Mal. What’s the protocol for comforting your prison guard when he breaks down sobbing in front of you, I wonder? Didn’t cover that in basic training.

Mal reached out and gripped Khiloh’s shoulder reassuringly. “You sure you’re not grievin’ for a boy who’s still alive?” he asked. “I know your heart’s breaking here, and that’s a hard thing. But maybe you want to fight just a little harder, even if the only thing you can do is hope he makes it.”

Khiloh gave a silent nod, and Mal continued. “You know how to take care of folks when they’re having a rough time, and you need to find that somewhere now even though you’re hurting. That boy needs his dad to be very sure things are gonna turn out.”

“You have kids?” asked Khiloh, surprised at Mal’s confident words.

Mal shook his head, smiling slightly. “I had soldiers. Amazing what you learn, fightin’ a war. Crash course in everything you didn’t never want to know.”

Mal heard footsteps, and whipped his head around to see Straaker approaching with curiosity. He yanked a startled Wash in front of Khiloh, hiding him from view before he walked forward to meet Straaker.

“What’s up?” asked Straaker.

“Nothin’ you be needing to take an interest in,” said Mal, blocking his path firmly.

Hurt flashed across Straaker’s face, and his reply was indignant. “That your way of telling me to get lost?”

“Pretty much,” said Mal.

“I’m getting a little tired of the ‘lets all kick Straaker around because we don’t like him’ routine, you know.” He tried to step around Mal, who blocked him with a steady gaze. “What the – what is wrong with you people! And when did you get to be in charge of where I can and can’t go?”

“When you proved to have the leadership skills of a malfunctioning robot,” replied Mal coolly. “I ain’t got the energy to reprogram you, so that puts us back to the gettin’ lost bit.”

Straaker gave a disgruntled glare, and performed what Mal was beginning to recognize as his signature move; turning and marching away. Satisfied that he wouldn’t return, Mal walked back to Wash and Khiloh. Khiloh had regained some measure of control over his emotions, and was standing quietly next to Wash. He gave Mal a grateful smile as he returned.

“You know what’s gorram ironic?” asked Khiloh. “Whole reason I joined the military was for my family. We were doin’ the whole starving young couple, no money, how are we gonna’ take care of the kid thing. I couldn’t find a decent job that’d last. Talked to an Alliance recruiter, promised us housing, full medical care for the family, an’ just generally everything we wanted to hear. Even said I could stay here at home, wouldn’t have to go off to war if I’d let them assign me to whatever job they chose.”

“How – sweet of them,” said Mal in a sarcastic tone. “Downright benevolent, really. Wash? Ain’t that just the most adorable thing you ever heard?”

Wash chuckled, and even Khiloh gave a weak laugh. “I took it, and they posted me here. One day I’m a dad trying to get jobs barking at the docks, the next month I’m a guard in a POW camp.” His brow creased. “The only reason my son’s getting the care he needs right now is that I work for the Alliance. And the only reason I can’t be with him, is I work for the Alliance.”

“Sounds like life,” said Mal. “Mind if I blame it all on the Alliance anyway?” he asked with a mischievous smile. “Just for fun?”

Khiloh snorted, returning the smile. “I offered to let you guys take me hostage, remember? Right now, anything goes.”

“Can I get a raincheck on that?” asked Mal. “For when I’m in a more, you know, hostage-taking mood?”

Khiloh laughed, and Mal recognized the familiar confident light flicker back into his eyes. “Limited-time offer, pal. Act now and get a free frying pan,” he said hopefully. He was slightly hysterical from the release of tension.

“Um – to hit you with? Or are we going to cooking class after the kidnapping?” asked Mal, happy to continue the trend.

“Order now and for only ten credits you'll get our one-time only escape offer with an Alliance prison officer, plus a frying pan thrown in absolutely free,” intoned Wash. “This amazing package normally retails for over –“

He ducked as Khiloh feigned a punch in his direction. Mal startled involuntarily, rolling his eyes and cursing himself. Khiloh grinned and gave him a reassuring slap on the arm, and Mal responded with a sheepish glare.

A harsh beeping from Khiloh’s communicator interrupted, and he answered it. “Need you for a transport over in 8,” said a crackling voice.

“Copy,” said Khiloh, looking gratefully at the two men. “Thank you,” he mouthed as he turned to leave.

“You still don’t quite trust him do you?” asked Wash as they watched him walk away.

“I trust him,” protested Mal truthfully.

“I think you maybe want to trust him,” contradicted Wash. “Is it just that you know what the guards are capable of, and you can’t forget it? You really can trust him, he’s a very kind person.”

Mal was silent for a long time, thinking. Finally he looked up and spoke honestly. "No," said Mal with a deadly even voice. "It's because I know what I'm capable of."

Wash stared, unnerved. Mal didn’t miss his unease, and searched for something better to say than “Don’t worry, buddy, I ain’t gonna kill you. Really.”