Kaylee isn't speaking to him. He's not worried--that never lasts very long. The rest of the day, at most, and she'll be smiling again and not crying at all. He just can't figure out why they all blame him. It's not like he told Inara she had to leave the ship, and it's not like they won't all be better off without her.

She was everything they were fighting against, and none of them seemed to realize. None but Inara, who knew exactly what he saw when he looked at her. Beauty, certainly, he won't lie and say he doesn't think about it--he does, more than is sane, most like, but that's not all he sees. He sees the war in her every move, hiding behind her eyes, because she is everything the other side had been fighting for. She supported Unification. His friends, to her, are necessary casualties and it's not easy to forget that from day to day.

It's all of those contradictions that stick in his throat, has him fighting with her instead of anything else. If they're fighting they're safe, as far from love as one can get. Or so he likes to tell himself, but he knows he's getting closer all the time.

Her leaving is for the best. For everyone, but mostly for the two of them. Mistakes are easy to make.

"Light," River says, and he looks up. She's balancing on the guardrail beside him, out of nowhere, looking down at him like she's been there all the time. "Heaven sent."

He frowns, barely able to meet her eyes. He sees the war when he looks at Inara, and he has a feeling River sees it when she looks at him. Sometimes, it's like she can see through to the bone, and it would give him chills if he let it. He doesn't. "What are you goin' on about?" he snaps.

River watches him slyly, lifting one foot up and balancing carelessly on the other. "Inara," she explains. "In Arabic."

His heart clenches and he shuts his eyes for a moment, before he steps forward and places his hands at her hips, so he can lift her gently down onto sturdier ground. She blinks at him innocently and he crosses his arms. "No gymnastics on my ship, you got that? Your brother wouldn't give me a moment of peace you got yourself hurt."

River just watches him blankly, like she can't understand what he's saying. Or what he's not. She turns and starts towards the stairs, but she pauses before she leaves the room, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Simon is he who hears," she adds, and then disappears.

It's a complication Mal doesn't need.

00000

Like Inara, the Alliance was all he could think about the first time he laid eyes on Simon. Only he realized after not long at all that it was only the outside that represents the Alliance with him, because Simon has started a war of his own against them, and he's far braver than most. It's hard not to admire someone with that kind of conviction, but Mal manages.

Someone, on Earth-That-Was, once said that there's a thin line between love and hate. Mal's no philosopher, but he knows enough about the universe to see the truth in that. Things would be so simple if he'd just fallen for Zoe instead, and they could have sailed off into the black yonder after the war, with no need of anyone else. Only they both knew far too much about each other for that to ever work. She was an enigma to Wash, and that was why he loved her.

Mal has his own mysteries, and since the universe ain't simple neither of them are Zoe. They're as far from him as someone else can get, perfect and poised, educated and graceful--everything he's always fought against, and he tries not to, but he's fighting against them even now. He knows he pushes the ones he wants the most the hardest. It just figured that they would both be the kind to push back instead of give in.

No one ever wins in things like this. He should know. He's fought more wars than most.

"If you would only ask her to stay, I bet she would." Kaylee is speaking to him again. He wishes she wouldn't.

"Why would I do a fool thing like that?" he snaps. "She wants to leave, I say let her go."

Kaylee glares at him, and he realizes he forgets sometimes that she knows how to get mad just like the rest of them. "And that's why she's leaving," Kaylee accuses.

That had never been in dispute. Mal turns away and wonders how long he has until its Simon packing, and Kaylee stops speaking to him for good.

00000

Inara is untouchable, even by those that pay for the privilege. There is distance in everything about her, this feeling like he's looking at a museum painting that has been locked behind an energy field. A work of art, certainly, but just for the looking.

Simon doesn't like to be touched, either. Mal does it anyway.

"It's going to be a bit harder to get docked on Core planets without her," Zoe tells him, and she's looking past him at the wall, back arrow straight and hands clasped behind her. She's a soldier even now, more so than him. He's never been all that good at parade rest.

"What do we need to go to Core planets for anyway?" he asks, and Zoe doesn't move. He can't even see her breathing.

"I'm just saying, sir, things'll be a mite less smooth." She shifts her eyes just a tiny bit to the right, so that they finally lock with his.

"I'm not going to try and coerce someone to stay on my ship that doesn't want to," Mal tells her, and he sees her lips twitch up, though she keeps the smile at bay.

"Askin' isn't the same as coercin', sir," she says, and he wonders when she turned on him. Et tu, Zoe? Mutiny on the rise.

"Inara does what she wants, always has," he says, and looks away. "If she wanted to stay she would, I've nothin' to with it."

"Yes, sir," Zoe says. She means like hell.

00000

Simon seems strangely ambivalent about the whole thing--when he enters the kitchen and finds Simon there alone, it's the first time since this started that he hasn't felt accusations rolling towards him in waves. He guesses that so long as it doesn't affect River, Simon has no reason to interfere.

"How goes the mutiny?" he asks, and Simon glances at him, expressionless. He can never tell what the boy is thinking.

"Mutiny?" he repeats, dryly.

"The crew isn't happy about Inara leaving," he explains, and Simon's mouth falls open a little, his eyes widening in realization.

"Oh," he says, then he seems to lose interest in the conversation, and looks back at the book in his hands. Mal frowns at him, irritated at being ignored. He likes to get reactions from him, but it's a game Simon hasn't learned to play yet.

Inara knows how, but she's leaving, and she's gotten too good at it anyway. "You don't care she's going?" Mal asks, crossing his arms.

Simon looks up again, blinks at him for a moment while he rewinds the question, and goes over it again. "Of course," he says. "In fact, I'm rather disturbed by the whole thing."

Mal's frown grew deeper. "Why's that, doc?"

"She seems to be one of the few people on this ship that can get through to you," Simon says, and shrugs. "Not to mention I'll miss talking with her."

Mal grins coldly. "Get through to me?" he asks.

Simon looks back at his book, utterly unconcerned by the menace hiding behind the question. "You can be rather unreasonable, Captain," Simon says. "I mean, you won't even try asking her to stay."

Mal makes a sound of frustration, and glares at him--but Simon doesn't look up, so it's wasted.

00000

"You're going to lose it all," River tells him. "All of it for nothing."

She's given up balancing on the rails but she's not standing normal. One hand is clasped above her on a cargo net, and one of her legs is out oddly, like she's practicing for a ballet. Simon says she used to dance, but Mal is fairly certain she hasn't stopped.

"I'd thank you to stop giving me advice, little girl," he tells her sternly. She's probably never even been on a date, and you can't teach life in a book.

River lets go, bringing both her feet back on the ground--she never makes a sound, and she watches him slyly all the while. "It wasn't advice," she says. "Advice implies suggestion, and this is fact."

He frowns, more than a little irritated at his entire crew. He doesn't know why they can't mind their own business. It's no matter to them what Inara wants to do with her life, and what he does with his is certainly not up for debate.

"You're too late already by half," she tells him. "That's not advice, either. It's a statement."

"Don't you have some other poor soul you can pester?" he snaps.

River nods wisely. "Seven of them," she says. She makes no move to leave the room.

Mal glares at her, and turns back around. He can't seem to find a moment to keep to himself. It will be better once Inara is finally gone, he tells himself. It will be better once they forget having what she brought to the ship. It'll be better all around.

00000

Inara is all packed. He hasn't actually gone to see her, but Kaylee took vicious delight in informing him of it. As soon as they docked on Boros she would be gone, possibly for good. He knows he'll have to find a way to say goodbye before she leaves, but he's afraid to face her, because he thinks he might just end up asking her to stay after all.

And he doesn't think she will. It's too late for that. River understands, even if the rest of his crew can't.

He wanders the ship until finally he's at the door to her shuttle. His shuttle. It's dark inside. The candles have been boxed away along with all the color; the pillows, the silk. Nothing left but shadows and metal, and Inara, sitting on the edge of the stripped bed.

The boxes are in the cargo hold, neatly labeled in her perfect penmanship. He tried not to look at them as he made his way here.

"I'll miss this ship," she says, and she sounds fragile in a way he's never heard in her before. It makes him uncomfortable, and causes him to turn away.

She's still composed as ever, though. Poised perfect and not crying, or anything like that. Wouldn't do for her make-up to run, and sentimentality like all of her other moods can be switched off. She becomes what she needs to be. He hates as much as he admires that.

"Is that all you'll miss?" he asks.

He can see her smile out of the corner of his eye. Lop-sided, coy--the kind of smile he likes to think she gives just to him. "Hardly, Mal. I'll miss Kaylee, as well."

He grins sadly at that. It's pathetic that even now neither of them will admit to anything. Surrenders cost too much, and he doesn't have another in him. "I know Kaylee will miss you, too," he says, and it's more of a concession than Inara knows. He pauses, nearly biting his tongue to hold back what he really wants to say. Inara seems to see his conflict, and rises to her feet.

"It's okay," she says. "I know they want you to ask me to stay. You don't have to."

He meets her eyes, and discreetly balls his hands into fists. "Would it make a difference?"

She gives him that smile again and shakes her head. "No." She places a hand on his arm, and her fingers coil around his sleeve--the tips of her fingers burn, and he wonders if they will leave marks on his skin. "I've been here far too long already."

He nods, because he gets that. All of his crew probably have, but unlike the rest of them, Inara has someplace else to go. He won't stand in her way.

"Promise me you'll let yourself be happy, Mal," she whispers.

She's probably not surprised when he says nothing. She just takes her hand away and steps out of the shuttle. Her quiet footsteps fade away quickly, and he grows colder the farther she gets.

00000

They're back in the middle of nowhere by next week. Civilization seems even farther from their reach without Inara on board, but other than that, they fall back to what qualifies as normalcy without too much trouble. Kaylee forgives him by the second week. By the third, Jayne has finally noticed that Inara's gone.

After a month, Mal stops spending his nights sitting awake in her empty shuttle.

"You'll see her again," River whispers to him, and he's not sure if that worries him or comforts him, but he knows enough about his youngest crew member by now not to doubt it.

It's not until week five that he notices Simon is avoiding him. Rather, avoiding everyone. Kaylee says he stays mostly in the infirmary these days, but he's been too much in his own mind to notice the change. She tells him that Simon doesn't help her in the engine room anymore. He never tells her stories about Osiris. She's worried, because she thinks he'll be leaving next.

Mal worries about that too, but he's a lot quieter about it.

He finds him in the infirmary, leaning against the bunk in the back, staring at the far wall. There's still a bandage on his leg from the bullet wound; he can see the padding under the pant leg. Simon doesn't hear him come in, but that's not because Mal is being quiet about it. It's because Simon is very obviously somewhere else. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Simon glances up, startled. "Excuse me?"

"A penny," Mal says. "Some kind of ancient currency. It's an expression. My mother used to say it."

Simon nods distractedly. "And do you have a penny?"

Mal pauses. "Well…no."

Simon grins wryly. "Then I guess I don't have to give you my thoughts."

Mal shrugs like it doesn’t matter, and picks up some kind of medical instrument. It looks rather like an eggbeater with blades, so he puts it back down before he hurts himself. Simon's not watching him, though; his eyes have gone back to the wall. "Kaylee says you've been distracted," he says. "Somethin' wrong?"

Simon bites his lip, and moves his eyes from the wall to the ground. "No," he says. Obviously, he means yes. Boy still can't lie, but he figures that'll fade fast enough.

Mal smiles tightly. "Well, that's good," he says. He doesn't leave.

Simon closes his arms around himself, like a shield, maybe, or maybe just to keep together. "I've just been thinking," he says quietly. "About the future, you know."

Mal didn't know. He often had trouble seeing past yesterday. He nods, anyway.

Simon laughs, kind of desperately, and moves to the cupboards. He starts to take things out, arrange them, and place them back. He changes the order from alphabetical to level of importance. He'll change it back tomorrow.

"And?" Mal prompts. His throat is tight, closing in, but none of that comes through in his voice.

Simon doesn't turn around, but he does stop the compulsive organizing. "And I don't think I have one," he admits, softly.

Mal sighs. "I guess you really are one of us, now," he says. He's not sure what he means by that.

Simon still doesn't turn around. The cupboard clicks shut.

00000

Wash and Zoe seem to be doing better than the rest of them. Relationships always make Mal's life more difficult, but those two have it easy. It's always better to have a soul mate when you're out in the middle of nowhere, or so they say. Not that Mal believes in souls. Or anything, really.

The preacher has stopped talking about his God in front of him at least, and he's nice enough to hang around with all things considered. His only other option for male companionship is Jayne, really, since Simon is busy with River and Wash is busy with Zoe. Thought about like that, the Preacher is his best friend in the whole wide universe.

Inara, no doubt, would be endlessly amused by the irony.

River acts almost normal most of the time. Except when she's telling him things she shouldn't know, or hinting at things he should watch for. He avoids her when he can. There are tiny mirrors in her eyes, and he doesn't always like what he sees.

She seems always to catch up with him, anyway. The ship is too small to outrun anything. "He can't hear if you don't talk," she tells him, sounding exasperated and not a little disgusted. "All of this and for what if you don't try?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he tells her, and frowns. "And also, I don't think I want to."

"Simon needs a future," she says. "You need one, too, in addition to a past."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snaps.

"Self-fulfilling prophecy," she says, apparently by way of explanation. "You think you will, so you will drive them all away. Starting with him. And me, not that it matters."

"You get a kick out of being cryptic, don't you?" he asks, more weary than frustrated.

River casts him a conspiratorial glance. "Yes," she says, blinking. "There's not much to do on this ship."

00000

Back on Shadow his mother used to tell stories about a man caught between two kinds of beauty. The love of the past, the love of the future. As different, she would say, as they were alike. Different or not, they both left him by the end. His mother hadn't believed in happy endings.

He doesn't, either. He supposes that's where River's idea of a self-fulfilling prophecy comes in. Even he can figure that one out, he knows he drives them away. Simon would be gone eight times over if he had anywhere to go. On his worst days, he thinks Zoe and Wash are the only ones that will never leave.

Zoe, because there are some bonds can't be broken. Wash, for the same reasons, different application.

"You've been different since she left us," Kaylee tells him sadly.

He doesn't really think he has. Whatever difference she thinks she sees, he can't pin it down in himself. "How's that?"

"Colder," she says, glaring at him. Then again, there is that. She has no idea how right she is.

"She had to go," he says. She left not because of but for him, not that anyone else will ever get that--ever understand. He knows, deep down, he wouldn't have stopped her if he could.

"I miss her," Kaylee says, sadly. Her eyes plead with him, but Mal doesn't give in, or turn away.

"I told her you would," is all he says. It's nothing if not the truth.

00000

Jayne doesn't understand why he keeps them around. The mercenary would be dead three times over without Simon having been there to hold him together, but he still acts like it's more danger to have them near than somewhere else. Also, there are the bounties to be considered.

Mal thinks Jayne's probably learned his lesson with that, at least. If not, there's always the airlock.

Jayne didn't understand his anger in that, Mal knows. It's his own fault, probably, because he changes his mind about Simon's status on his ship along with his mood. If he's aiming to rile him up, he calls Simon a passenger. Truth is, he's always crew.

Not that he'll ever tell him that.

River is more problematic, but the Tams were a package deal. That has been fairly obvious from day one. He's pretty fond of her himself, anyway, when she isn't being all crazy. He doesn't know why he continues to bait them both, couldn't say why it is that he likes to push at Simon. Maybe if he tries searching through some psychobabble self-help guide on the cortex it might say something about resenting the rich kid, or something like that--but the truth is Simon's got more honor and courage in him than most men he's known.

He found himself back in the infirmary doorway. Simon, as usual lately, was inside organizing. Fiddling. Scribbling notes or staring at walls. He clears his throat and Simon looks over at him. "How's it goin'?" he asks. "We good on supplies?"

Simon nods. "Well, since the crew has been considerate enough to not get themselves shot this last month, I'd say we're good."

Mal grins slightly. "Way I remember it, last one to get hisself shot was you."

Simon gives a slight grin of his own. "Surgeons should be shot," he says softly.

Mal frowns. "What?"

"Something Early said," Simon tells him, glancing away. "Not that I should put much stock in it, but now I do know what it's like anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you do at that." Mal places a hand on the doorframe, and leans against it. "Not so much fun, is it?"

Simon shakes his head. "Hurts more coming out than going in," he admits. "And here I became a doctor to stop pain."

Mal laughs lightly. "You do alright. You've saved pretty much all of us by now."

Simon frowns, and leans back against the counter. "I guess," he admits. "You seemed to get by well enough before I came along, though."

"Yeah, well, the scars heal up prettier now," Mal says, his eyes trailing towards the floor. "It's nice having you around." It's more than he ever let show to Inara and he doesn't know why he's saying it now, to a fugitive, even, but he gets away with it. Simon doesn't appear to have heard him.

"It's so loud out here in space," he says softly, glancing over at him. "I think I've forgotten what true silence is like."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Mal says, letting his hand slip from the wall and standing up straight.

Simon frowns, biting his lip. "Isn't it?" he asks.

It's not, but Mal says nothing else.

00000

Simon is drifting, he can see it. Or maybe it's him. He isn't sure. It's so hard to tell--maybe they're both moving. Maybe they're stuck in place. He should ask River. He's sure she would know.

"Where would you go if you weren't here?" Mal asks him.

"I imagine I'd be in a prison," Simon says dryly. "Or dead."

"I mean if you could choose a place," Mal snaps impatiently. "If you could be anywhere and not have to worry."

"I couldn't go back," Simon says. "If that's what you're asking, I couldn't go back to Osiris, not after this. Everyone there believed River was an acceptable sacrifice just so they could have beautiful houses and dinner parties."

Mal nods, wondering why he's so pleased by that. Inara had no trouble staying with them. Inara had never left. "So, where?"

"Somewhere I could help people, I guess," Simon says. "Somewhere I could give River what she needs."

Mal should have known that answer without asking. He doesn't know what he was expecting.

Simon glances over at him. "What about you?"

"I'd be here," Mal says. He can't see himself anywhere else.

Simon smiles wryly. "Yeah, I thought so," he says. He pauses for a moment, then looks back over at him. "What is this all about, Captain?"

Mal hates the compassion in Simon's eyes. He hates the way he stops everything to focus on him. If Simon knew what was good for him, he would have told him to get lost. He closes his eyes briefly, and the words start tumbling out. "Do you ever feel like you've got a chance to be happy, right in front of you, but all you can do is watch it slip away?"

Simon sighs, glancing away sympathetically. "You mean Inara," Simon says.

The sound of her name pulls him into the present, and sends all his inhibitions rushing back to place. He's in dangerous territory. Inara never let him get this close to risking everything.

Simon has no idea what he's done. He turns around, and starts to walk away. "Yeah," he says. "I mean Inara."

He doesn't, but he can't let Simon know. He's said too much already.