“I hear something.” The soldier’s voice cut through the haze in Mal’s brain, rousing him from his numb cocoon of cold, pain, hunger, and fatigue. “Did anybody hear that?” the soldier repeated, louder this time, and it was then that Mal finally heard the thrum itself. It was a low rumble that seemed to echo up from the ground, rather than down from the sky. “Private?” Mal called sluggishly to the young man, forcing himself to move. “Zoe?” *Anybody, it don’t matter who…* “Signal flare.” *Why does this feel so ruttin’ familiar?* “Whose colors?” Zoe groaned as she tried to force herself up. Mal stumbled to his feet and moved to help her. “Those are rescue ships, Sir,” another soldier informed. “They came. They came.” “Whose colors are they flyin’?” Zoe rasped, gritting her teeth against the pain and stiffness as Mal helped her to stand. “Don’t matter none,” Mal replied. “One side or t’other, it don’t make no difference.” Zoe grunted again as Mal started her moving. He turned to the two young men standing behind them. “I want both of you to pass the word; see who’s still with us.” As soon as he thought that Zoe would be okay on her own, he released her and began making his way through the trenches of corpses. “Look alive, people!” the sergeant called. “We got med ships en route! We need to prepare for extraction!” Mal stopped in his tracks. *Something’s wrong here. I know it is, but I can’t quite figure it out…* Mal paused. *Wow, I so very expected Zoe to say something…* Turning, Mal saw that Zoe was no longer there. “Zoe?” he called. “Hey, who’ve I got still?!” Silence was his answer. Clambering to the top of a rise, Mal saw the rescue ship looming closer. Beyond it, in the distance, were other ships. *Where did everybody go?* Mal cupped his hands around his mouth “Zooeee!!!” “She’s no longer here, Mal,” a voice came from behind, and Mal spun to find himself face-to-face with Shepherd Book. Mal’s eyes widened with shock. “Sh… Shepherd?!” ************************************************************************

“Shepherd!” Mal exclaimed stumbling forward and grasping the man’s upper arms. “Where did everybody go? The rescue ships are comin’, an’ I need to get back to my crew!” “You will not find Zoe here,” Book explained, sweeping his hand out in a gesture so that Mal could take in the never-ending sea of corpses, drying blood, and the stench of death. “You will not find any of your fallen comrades.” Mal paled. “You don’t mean… She’s not…” “A part of her is here,” Book continued, “trapped in this place. But the rest of her exists on the ship, not in the valley.” Mal’s shoulders sagged. “An’ yer gonna tell me *all* of me’s trapped in this valley.” “Not all,” Book corrected, “but most.” Looking around for a moment, Mal’s gaze returned to Book. “What do I do?” The Shepherd placed a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “Forget the rescue ships, and come with me.” Mal eyed his friend peculiarly. “What is this? Am I in heaven, or are you my ghost of Christmas past?” Book chuckled. “None of the former… but perhaps a bit of the latter.” ************************************************************************

As he descended the ladder and trudged into their room, Kaylee observed that Simon looked more drained than she thought she’d ever seen him before. “How’s the captain?” she wondered. Simon, having stopped in the infirmary to check on Mal before following her to bed, rubbed at his eyes and sighed. “The same as before. Stable, but no change.” He plopped down onto the bed, and Kaylee began massaging his shoulders with her one uncasted hand. “You need to relax a bit, Xin gan. If yer muscles got any tighter, ya wouldn’t be able to move yer arms. That would be a bad thing.” She kissed the back of his head. Simon nodded, but did not verbally reply. He was, however, fidgeting a bit. *Maybe I should just let him sleep,* Kaylee thought to herself. “Here’s somethin’ that occurred to me. You an’ River have been on Serenity for fourteen months today.” Simon straightened a bit. “Wow. It’s been that long?” Kaylee nodded. “Don’t seem like it, does it?” Simon leaned back onto the bed. “No, it doesn’t.” He frowned. “Then again, looking back over everything that has happened, that puts it into an understandable time frame.” “Yeah,” Kaylee agreed. “Oh, did you notice somethin’ funny about River, or was that just me?” Simon smiled a bit. “There’s always somethin’ funny about my sister. She’s odd.” “And that’s why we love her,” Kaylee clarified. “So you didn’t notice it?” Simon sank the rest of the way to the bed and placed his hands behind his head. “I noticed. She’s just worried.” “About Mal or about Gabriel?” Simon moved a hand from behind his head to rub affectionately on Kaylee’s back. “Both.” He seemed more restless than he usually did. “I dunno.” *Something’s on his mind,* Kaylee thought. *I know Simon well enough to notice that.* “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Simon shrugged against the mattress. “Things.” He sat up and faced her. “Kaylee, you and I… well, we make a great couple, don’t we?” Kaylee grinned and reached for his hand. “The best.” “And like you said, fourteen months, right?” Kaylee nodded, becoming more cautious. *Where is this silly man going with all this?* “Well…” Simon scratched the side of his head and frowned. Finally, he just grinned. “They didn’t make me take speech classes in medical school.” Kaylee grinned back. “I know you, Simon. You always go one of two ways; either you don’t say nothin’ at all, or you say it, it doesn’t sound anything like what you meant, an’ I walk away pissed.” Simon laughed. “That does tend to happen.” Kaylee crossed her legs in front of her. “Well, is it really important?” Pressing his lips together, Simon nodded. “Okay.” Kaylee gathered both of Simon’s hands and leaned forward. “Then, just say it, and I promise I won’t get mad.” Simon laughed, and Kaylee frowned. “What?” Simon shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just something Jayne and Gabriel were trying to tell me a couple of weeks ago about people promising not to get mad when they can’t help it.” Kaylee let go of his hands long enough to poke his nose. “Well, that’s yer problem, right there. Never take advice from Jayne or Gabriel. So, just tell me.” “Okay,” Simon surrendered. “I love you.” Kaylee froze. She was in total shock. “Did you… did you just say that you loved me?” Simon nodded. “That, and…” He swallowed thickly, trying to force the words. “…and I want you to be my wife.” Kaylee sat speechless. No thoughts were running through her mind, as her brain was still working to comprehend what had just happened. Simon moved from the bed to the floor and knelt before it. “Kaywinnit Lee Fry, will you marry me?” Kaylee began laughing hysterically, and Simon’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, no, no, that’s bad, isn’t it?” Kaylee launched herself off of the bed and knocked Simon to the floor. She was a mixture of laughter and sobs. “Tian xiz shou you de ren dou gai si! Simon Tam, you silly son of a bitch, I can’t believe you just asked me that!!” She began smothering him with kisses and gropes, still laughing and crying. “Um…” Simon grunted, muffled beneath the woman. “I *think* that’s a yes?” he questioned. “That is *sooo* a ‘yes’!” Kaylee exclaimed, burying herself in his chest. “But only if you take this gorram cast off as a wedding present.” Simon laughed. “Consider it done.” “I’ll consider it done after you cut it off. The thing itches.” She started laughing again. “You just so completely took me by surprise!” “Too abrupt?” Simon ventured. Kaylee kissed him again. “Definitely not.” There was a pounding on the door above, and, sighing, Kaylee stood to push the open switch. “Simon?” Inara called down the ladder. “Simon, we need you up here!” Simon came to his feet. “The infirmary?” he inquired worriedly, exchanging glances with Kaylee. *Not again,* Kaylee thought, her heart sinking. *Not Mal again…* “Um… no,” came the response. “The cargo hold.” ************************************************************************

“So,” Mal prodded as he and Shepherd Book strolled across the countryside. They had left the area of Serenity Valley awhile ago, and were now entering the Dover Glen. “Are you the ghost of Shepherd Book, or are you a figment of my imagination?” Book didn’t look over, but Mal could tell that he was being studied. “You don’t remember the last thing that happened to you, do you?” Mal scanned his thoughts. “Gabriel had been poisoned, and I challenged Cornell to a gunfight.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t lose, did I? Am I really dead?” Book shook his head. “It wasn’t a matter of winning or losing, Mal. You put yourself between your crew and harm, but the harm’s going to find them, anyway, and now, you’re not there to help them with it.” Mal pushed his scarf over his shoulder for the fifteenth time. Finally, he just pulled it from his neck and tossed it on the ground. *This ain’t really happenin’, anyhow, so what’s the difference?* “So, I got shot?” This time, Book did look over. “I’m not a ghost, Mal. I’m more like your conscience, speaking to you through your subconscience. I don’t have any answers for you that you, yourself, do not already know. Perhaps you aren’t aware of them, but the answers are locked in your head. I hope that you find some of them on our journey together.” “Uh huh,” Mal replied. “Me, too.” He started as a familiar farmstead appeared and grew closer. “Wait a minute. Gabriel’s place is a good eight hundred miles from Serenity Valley.” “Are you forgetting that this isn’t really happening?” Book reminded. “In a few minutes, I’ll be taking you to a different planet.” As they neared the house, Mal noticed the front door hanging wide open. Several shapes could be distinguished standing in the kitchen. Concerned, Mal rushed forward and onto the porch. Monty and Tracey were standing just inside the door, motionless. The bloody bodies of Gabriel’s parents were splayed on the floor. As Mal moved past the two Browncoats, he finally spied Zoe. She, too, was frozen in the middle of addressing her recently-acquired pellet wounds. “*Kao,*” Mal whispered, rushing into the next room. Fourteen-year-old Gabriel Davin stood before him, just as he did over seven years ago. “Nice of yeh to stop in again, Mal,” the boy greeted, his accent far more Scottish than it had been when Mal had first met Gabriel. “I see yeh got the Shepherd showin’ yeh around. Wish I coulda met ‘im myself.” “Gabriel,” Mal breathed, extremely rattled. “Yer parents…” “Mal,” Gabriel assured, “it warn’t yer fault. Not yer fault at all. Yeh lost one of yer men comin’ in here. Almost lost Zoe, too. Should I be apologizin’ to *you* fer *that?* Fer what my parents did?” Mal blinked. “I… I dunno what to say, Gab.” “Trust me, Mal,” Gabriel continued, “I’ve moved on. Time for yeh to do the same.” Mal nodded. “No, I get where…” Mal trailed off as a shocked look crossed his face once again. This one was different, though. *Did I just… I could swear…* Mal turned away from Gabriel and, sweeping right past Book, moved across the living room to a three-tiered shelf. He grabbed a photo from one of the shelves and studied it. The photo was taken in front of the house. Four people stood, two in front and two in back. The two adults in the back were obviously Gabriel’s parents, albeit a bit younger. Then, there was a very young Gabriel, and next to him, a bit taller and a bit older… “Shee niou,” Mal uttered, turning to stare at Book. “I don’t believe it.” Book smiled. “Funny, isn’t it, how your mind picks things up that you don’t even know about? That photograph was there during the war, and it was there when your crew first came here to hide. You saw it twice, and thought nothing of it both times.” Mal shook his head. “What do I do?” Book shrugged. “About that? Do nothing. If Gabriel wanted to talk about it, he would. Can you blame him for not wanting to?” Mal sighed, looking at the photograph again. “Nah, I conjure not.” He replaced the photo on the shelf. He turned back toward Book and Young Gabriel. “Okay. Now, what?” ************************************************************************

Sitting in a passenger room, Helen looked up as Zoe and Jayne walked in. Both had very dangerous expressions on their faces, and so Helen said nothing in way of greeting. “I want to know something,” Zoe began, “and I want to know the truth. I *need* to know the truth. Did you say *anything* or do *anything?*” Helen frowned, staring at the woman. “I’m… sorry. I don’t understand the question.” “We got a crewmate out there flyin’ off the gorram handle ‘bout somethin’ or other,” Jayne explained, voice raised and terse, “an’ we need to know if you had anythin’ to do with it!” “We ain’t gonna punish ya,” Zoe promised. “Nothing stupid like that. We just have to know if you did anything, so we can better put it right.” Helen shook her head. “No. I swear, I didn’t do anything at all.” Zoe exchanged a glance with Jayne. “She ain’t got no reason to lie,” Jayne observed. “Plus,” Helen continued, “if I may, it’s perfectly understandable, given her recent past, that River might have psychological attacks for no reason at all.” Again, Jayne and Zoe looked at one another, only this was an even more worried look. “She don’t know,” Jayne confirmed. “She don’t know a ruttin’ thing.” Helen frowned, confused. “What? What’s going on?” Turning without a word, Zoe exited the room. Jayne crossed his large arms across his chest and sighed. “It ain’t River we’re havin’ troubles with.”