Alliance intelligence, lies, deception, and fear ran rapid through the dreams of the crew of Serenity. Their lives had taken a decidedly serious turn into the deepest corners of a life they had not conceived their beloved captain could live. They had discussed so many possibilities that they had begun to imagine the fantastical, until Zoe had reined them back in and reassured them, reminding them that they had all been through thick and thin together. They had listened to her, and believed that no matter what was going to happen Mal would not abandon them, and once again everything would work out in the end. But while their bodies tried to get some rest and relieve stress, their minds kept ticking on, dreaming. Mal couldn’t sleep, hadn’t sleep the night before either. Silently he paced up and down the quiet corridors of his ship. He breathed in deeply and brushed his hand against the metal, cold to many who passed through the gray corridors, but for Mal it was warm to the touch, pulsing with life. Serenity was his ship, and the bond between them went far deeper than many realized. It was his way of being free, free from the tyranny of the core, the Alliance military, and free from the dreams that haunted him of blood, dirt and war. But now those dreams had followed him to his ship, to his freedom and with every second that passed by that freedom was fading away. He balled his hand into a fist and breathed hard. So many images flooded his mind, he couldn’t keep them at bay; images of men and women that he served with during the war, smiling faces and torn and bloodied bodies. The war had changed him, the very core of who he was, he had seen so many horrific images that sometimes he wondered if he was really sane or just living on the edge of insanity. Zoe was a god send to him, and if he did believe in a god, then Zoe would have been an angel sent to him to keep him grounded in reality. Together they had made it through and helped each other. And in those dark times that came unexpectedly, haunting them, they made it through together. They had shared everything, been through everything together, close brushes with death, seeing their friends and comrades blown to bits, and having the devastating memories of Serenity valley. But through all of that there had been moments that Mal had buried deep within him, sealed, and not brought forth to remember. Moments that Zoe had not known about, stolen bits of time that Mal had zealously guarded against anyone finding out. Mal’s feet had kept him moving as his mind wandered through the vast expanse of his memories. Mal focused his eyes, and realized that his feet had brought him to the infirmary. The lights were dimmed, but bright enough to make out the two forms lying peacefully in Simon’s world. Slowly Mal moved closer, his eyes adjusting to the low light. Jayne was still sedated, but Simon had reassured Mal that the ornery mercenary would make it through to be crude, rude, and stupid in the future. Despite the darkness of his thoughts a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, Jayne might not be the easiest to grow fond of, but Mal knew how empty the ship would have been without Jayne. Even though he didn’t want to, his eyes moved slowly over to the other still form. The face had haunted him for only a short while, and then those memories had been buried to never be remembered. But when Asha had first contacted him about the job, he had all thought it was a dream. A horrible nightmare rearing its ugly head in defiance of not being thought about for so long. But as things had progressed, and quickly being taken out of his hands, he realized that it was real. She was real. That was something he had not considered would be possible. Somewhere inside he still wasn’t quite sure why he had agreed to accept the job, but he knew it would pay well and keeping his crew happy was important to him, regardless of his personal cost. Those memories had come flooding back, and for the past two days now he had had to relive every painful memory. Reliving in detail what had happened. Mal closed his eyes, and taking in a breath could smell the acidic vapors left from weapons fire. The day had been cold and damp, and his unit was corned by several scouting groups of Alliance foot soldiers during their regular sweeps of the area. He snapped his eyes open, a cold sweat suddenly breaking out on his face. Asha’s face looked so peaceful, so innocent on the table. Simon’s instruments keeping close watch over her condition. Hard and unwelcoming rocks, the color of dried blood loomed before him. He jerked his head up looking around, clouds of dust swirling around him creating a hazy landscape. Men and women dressed in tattered uniforms half slept, clutching onto their weapons. Mal squinted and could make out two forms standing to the side, half hidden by a rock jutting out of the rock face. With a start he realized that it was himself and Zoe, heads bent together in quiet conference. Mal shook his head and rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to force the images out. Blinking, the cold gray of the infirmary loomed before him, and again his eyes fell on Asha’s face. Her skin was still smooth and fresh looking, no signs of the laugh lines he had seen before. Her hair was splayed out behind her head creating an odd sort of halo. Mal remembered that particular color, and how for so long even the brown of his coat had caused him to remember these painful memories. Then suddenly the images were back, and Mal couldn’t stand it any longer. The damn had burst and the memories came flooding down on him, drowning him in emotions that burned through his body. Mal and Zoe standing talking together, men and women scattered in the small canyon of the rocks hiding from Alliance patrols. Screams as weapons fire began to rain down on them. Faces of comrades who had fallen that day. Zoe running and pushing Mal back to cover. Mal getting up and following Zoe to help the rest of their unit. Frightened eyes following him, searching for the answer of what to do. Then silence had rained in the chaos. Screams had died away, and the dust had settled. Mal couldn’t move and he didn’t know where Zoe had gone, all he could see before him was the black emptiness of Alliance uniforms. They formed a wall of darkness around him as he coughed the last bit of dust from his lungs. Then the darkness had swallowed him, and the fears had disappeared. “Captain Reynolds?” Mal jerked almost falling back into one of Simon’s trays of instruments. He looked around him trying to find the source of the voice. His vision blurred, his hand going to his holster, bringing up his gun. “Relax, captain. There is nothing here to harm you,” Sheppard Book lifted up his hands, knowing well not to mess with Mal. He could clearly tell he was in a state of confusion. Mal blinked hard, rubbing his eyes with his hands and focused in on the Sheppard. “What the gorramit hell you doin? Bought to give a man a heart attack.” He snapped. “I think it is I should ask what you doing up here, and what is going on. There are too many questions, and not enough answers. And since this woman is in a coma and can’t shed light on the situation I believe that burden then falls to you.” Sheppard stood his ground as Mal put his gun away and stared at him. “The crew deserves to know and understand what this mess is about.” “Don’t nobody need to share in my personal demons, preacher.” Mal muttered. “That is not for you to decide, at least not now. You have involved them in this matter of not their own free will, and it is up to you know to help them through it. You are the captain of this ship and they are your crew, it is time for you to take that responsibility.” “Ain’t none of their business,” again Mal muttered. But it wasn’t as forceful this time. Book took a tentative step closer. “Son, there are times when one must go the path alone, and then there are times when helping hands reach out to guide and console. This is not a time to be alone, clearly you need those helping hands to make it through whatever it is that this is. And you have many who would gladly lay down their life for yours, and want to help, but they need to know how.” Mal stared at Book, and knew that he was right. But Mal wasn’t the sort of man that went out and asked for help. He had been raised to be independent and to keep his business to himself, and that is how he had lived his life. But Mal was keen enough to know, that the jam he had gotten his crew in wasn’t going to be easily solved, and to keep from endangering their lives any further they needed to know the truth. “Sheppard I ain’t asking for no God almighty meeting to show me the way.” “I know you are not. And that is not what I or the crew wants. Just the truth and how to help get this situation in control.” Mal nodded his head, his peripheral vision again glimpsing Asha’s sleeping form. “Sheppard there ever been a time in your life when ya knows you were supposed to be dead, and yet for some gorram reason life don’t agree wit’ ya?” Sheppard nodded, keeping a rigid expression. “There were many times during the war that I should’ve ended up dead, and yet for some reason I weren’t. Call it luck or call it faith, I don’t rightly care. Seems I was born wit’ an unnatural amount of its. But luck and faith run out and dry up, ain’t always there ta help one. When that luck dries up, one is forced ta make decisions that don’t rightly set well with a man.” Mal glanced over at Asha and then back at Sheppard. “She’s one of those ya might say.”