Title: Hell Raising

Rating: PG-13 for mild torture and violence

Pairings: heavy on the M/I, by the nature of the 'verse, references to S/K, Z/W, Jayne/Vera

Setting: 18ish years post-BDM

Summary: “I just wish you would’ve killed the old bastard.” – Inara, War Stories. Eighteen years later, so does Mal. Set in the same 'verse as Pirate Children, but three years later.

Author's Note: Thanks for the great response! Here's the second and final part of this little story. There will be more in the 'verse, so stay tuned.

Part 2

Mal slowly makes his way back to their shuttle, relieving Lolly and a fairly calm Kaylee from their duties and sending them to bed with the bare outlines of the plan. That’s all he has so far. The crew is going to meet in eight hours for further discussion. Inara’s still asleep, so Mal removes his boots quietly, tucking them aside so no one will trip, and climbs gently in beside her. Nausea settles heavily in his stomach, tears stinging his eyes again. He puts an arm around his wife, burying his face in her hair, trying hard not to think about how similar it is to little Mei-Mei’s. He half-sleeps, dreaming of his children’s bodies, and wakes instantly when Inara stirs beside him three hours later. “Mal?” she questions, shifting onto her back. He meets her eyes in response, and they immediately fill with fear at the hollow look she finds. “Mal, tell me it was dream…” “Ain’t much for lyin’ to ya, darlin’,” he says as gently as possible, one hand tucking a curl behind her ear. She feels nauseous, a kind of fear she’s never experienced before, worse than the multiple times she’s seen Mal’s life in the balance. At least then, she’d seen it. “We know where they are; we’re headed there now. Gonna mount a rescue, kill the hun dan, and get them back to you. But you’re stayin’ on the ship, dong ma? Can help Lolly and Kacey with the defendin’, but I don’t want you near that place. You ain’t gonna like where we find them, how we find them. I ain’t gonna like it, neither, but seein’ as you’re their mama, I ‘spect it’ll be worse.” She closes her eyes, those deep brown eyes both of their children share, and recalls every bit of her Companion control just to keep herself from dissolving again. “We’re still ‘bout twenty hours out. River says they’re both alive, but besides that she’s too far gone to help much. Bringin’ her along, though. Woman’s bound to be helpful.” Inara settles her head onto Mal’s chest, knowing she won’t sleep. She remembers the way Mei-Mei rushes in on mornings when she doesn’t have class, pestering her daddy to do something with her since the other children are sleeping the day away in their teenaged fashion. She remembers the way Abe spends afternoons hiding in the shuttle, the only quiet place he can read a book without interruption or distraction. Often times, they read together, mother and son, while Mal and Mei-Mei traipse around Serenity doing “captainy” things. The memories pour over her and sink into her stomach. The shuttle’s too full of memories, but there’s nowhere on the ship that’s not, nowhere her children haven’t done something memorable to tie them to it forever in her mind. “I’m sorry,” Mal says hoarsely. She shifts to meet his eyes. There’s a question in her gaze. “Weren’t for me, my past dealings with Niska, they…” “Stop it,” she orders, halting his self-pity, “I thought we got over the whole ‘you deserve better’, self-loathing routine after Abe was born. You’ve done nothing wrong in this, and I won’t just let you fall back into yourself.” There’s fire in her eyes again; he’s made her angry, as he’s known to, but at least now she’s back to herself, not the shell who collapsed on the catwalk. “I just wanna go faster,” Mal says, breaking eye contact and laying back on his pillow. He gathers her in his arms, his last lifeline, and tries to close his eyes again. “Should try an’ get some sleep. Still pretty far out.” They try sleeping, but the silence only gets louder. “They’re not going to be the same,” Inara whispers, voice thick, “They’ll never be the same children who walked off this ship.” Mal swallows the emotion at that, tries to lighten the mood a tiny bit. “No, reckon they won’t. Though, there weren’t any walkin’ off of this boat. Mei-Mei don’t walk anywhere: she bounces.” “Mal, I’m serious. We failed them. We should have walked off this ship the moment we found out about Abe.” She pushes herself up, sitting straight backed against the headboard. Anger is easier, pushes the terror aside, puts the pain to use. The fighting, it’s familiar, it’s normal. “Hey now, we’ve had this conversation; it’s just as dangerous on the ground, at least anywhere we’d live.” Mal’s meeting her anger blow for blow, voice raising tightly. The anger pushes away his self-doubt, gives him something else to focus on. “Tams might not be wanted anymore, but I’ve wracked up my fair share of felonies, whole crew has. Best not to stay in one place too long; bad things happen when I’m on the ground. The Black’s our territory, out here we know how to protect what’s ours.” “We’re obviously not doing a very good job of it.” The words sting with truth. “Niska’d only’ve found us sooner if we were planet-side.” At least, that’s what he has to convince himself. “Moving around all the time makes us harder to track. And there’s Reavers and crooks aplenty on the Rim planets, just like the Black. Except on the ground, there’s no where to run.” “But don’t Abe and Mei-Mei deserve some semblance of normalcy?” “They’re plenty normal!” Mal objects. “Got a better education than I ever had, extended family, food on the table. They’re happy.” “They’re not here!” The words are piercing. Mal looks a little hurt, but immediately hardens again as Inara continues, “They know more about guns than any children have a right to…” “That’d be the same growin’ up on a ranch,” Mal interjects. “Serra’s ten, Mal, and she already knows how to pick pockets. Thank you for that by the way.” Sarcasm dripping, remembering big brown eyes twinkling mischievously, a stranger’s wallet in hand. “I sure as guay didn’t teach her that!” Mal objects, surprised to hear it. “No, she just learned petty thieving by example.” Mal’s voice lowers. “That’s not called for.” His eyes are hard, icy. She reads the message in them: You’re dancing dangerously close to line we drew, darlin’. She’s too upset to care, but doesn’t repeat the word, only holding his gaze, steely. “If any of my crime’s petty, it’s only ‘cause it’s fairly hard to pull the big stuff with a boatload of young ‘uns. More’n half our work is legit these days, and as such, it’s a mite harder to keep thirteen mouths fed. But I do it.” “We do it, Mal. All of us. The crew. We keep each other safe. But not this time. We failed.” She turns away from him, the pain and terror returning, seizing her. She hears him let out a sigh. “We should get some sleep.” She doesn’t respond. She dreams of Mei-Mei’s tears. ***

Mal wakes an hour before the crew is supposed to meet. He gently slips from the bed, careful not to wake Inara, still feeling a little guilty and a little angry. From the tracks on her face, it looks like she’s cried in her sleep. He’s just glad she’s sleeping some on her own. He changes into a fresh shirt and then walks quietly down to the dining room, surprised to find Kaylee poring furiously over some schematics, hair twisted out of her face. “Hey, Lil’ Kaylee,” he says groggily. Even though she is a grown woman and has a sixteen-year-old daughter, the nickname has stuck. He heads immediately to the coffee; what sleep he got was restless and did little to calm him. “Hey, Cap’n,” she replies, excitement entering her voice. “I think I figured it out.” “Figured what out?” Mal asks, slumping in the seat across from her. “How ta get into the space station.” “You ain’t. You’re stayin’ here and keepin’ the engines hot.” “I mean for y’all. I think I can rig Serenity’s nav sats to broadcast a high burst of energy right when they see us comin’. Knock all their power out for ‘t least half an hour.” Mal thinks this over for a minute, inhaling the coffee and wrapping his mind around her words. He breaks out into a half smile, leaning across the table and bringing her head to his lips. “I knew I was payin’ you for somethin’. Awright. Let’s go over this nice and slow, Captain Dummy talk, dong ma?”

***

“Revised plan,” Mal announces, starting to feel a tiny bit giddy now that there’s a somewhat decent plan involved. “And it’s Kaylee’s, so should work well.” Everyone’s gathered around the table in their pajamas; even Inara’s regained her control and sits at his left. She’s talking quietly with Ally while everyone trickles in, giving the younger woman’s shoulder a little squeeze before everyone quiets down. “So what is this new plan?” Wash asks. “Not new. Same people goin’ in, same people stayin’ out. Kaylee an’ I’ve just fleshed the plan out a bit. We’re gonna knock out the power, force a temporary seal, and then go in. Once we get closer, we’re hopin’ River’ll be able to give us a general idea of where they’re bein’ held. Jayne, you’ll take Ally and get Serra. Zoe an’ Wash’ll go to the main control room, occupy the place, keep the power off as long as possible. Albatross, Doc, you’re with me.” No one mentions why the doctor’s going with Mal. Nor do they mention the wave, since no one’s told Inara about it yet. “As Ally said earlier, we’ve done this before, with less people… Still, more at stake this time, so everybody make sure they get some rest. ETA’s fifteen hours.” The group disperses, some returning to their bunks, others moving to the common area. Mal pulls Jayne aside in the kitchen, voice low. “Jayne, I’m trustin’ you with my baby girl. You go in, watch the teacher’s back, and grab Mei-Mei. Then you get the guay out of there. We got an understandin’? You get her back to her mama.” “I got it, Mal. Ain’t gonna let nuttin’ more happen to the Mei-Mei.” The man is uncharacteristically serious, meeting the captain’s eyes. “An’ Jayne, if anybody… touched… her, you have Ally cover Serra’s eyes and ears and you kill ‘im real slow.” Jayne swallows hard. “Wit’ pleasure.” Mal nods and leaves Jayne to get more coffee, feeling Inara’s eyes on him. He pulls her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. It’s as much for his comfort as his. The dining area has cleared out, leaving just the two of them. “I’m gonna get ‘em back to you, ‘Nara. I promise you that. And then I’m gonna kill the old bastard like I should’ve back then,” he whispers, forehead pressed to hers, eyes closed with emotion. “I know,” she whispers back, slipping her fingers into his hair and holding him close.

***

Mal checks his guns again, taking a deep breath and meeting Zoe’s eyes. His first mate and oldest friend nods in return, which makes him feel better. “Gonna go make sure that son of yours knows what’s up,” he says, pushing away from the kitchen table. “I’ll go square things away with Kaylee and Leila Lee.” Mal climbs up to the bridge where Wash and Kacey are working on a few last minute details, Wash in River’s usual seat. “What’s our ETA?” “Eleven minutes, Captain. Aunt Kaylee’s gonna send the burst at four.” “Can you pilot us in, Kacey?” “Yes, sir,” he says, meeting his uncle’s eyes with all seriousness. Mal nods in approval. “You ready, Wash?” Wash inclines his head. “I’m gonna go help Kaylee with the black out, then I’ll meet you in the bay.” He claps his son’s shoulder for a moment, squeezing. “Do me proud, Killian.” When Wash is gone, Mal slips a gun into Kacey’s hand. “After we dock, get down to the cargo bay, help Kaylee, Lolly, and Inara hold the ship. When one of us gets back, you get your pi gu up to the cockpit and send Kaylee to the engine room, dong ma?” “Yes, sir.” “Look, your Aunt ‘Nara, you know she can hold her own in a fight, but right now…” “I’ll keep an eye on her, Uncle Mal. All of them.” “And as soon as the last of us are on, we’ll give you two the signal, and you get the hell out of here.” “Yes, sir.” Mal meets the boy’s bright blue eyes. “You’re a good man, little Washburn.” “Thanks, Uncle Mal,” Kacey responds, proud and strong, his father’s smile on his face.

***

They’ve moved him onto a metal table with metal bindings, apparently to enhance the electrocution effect. His throat is raw from screaming, every inch of his body throbbing with pain unlike any he’s ever known, but all he think of is his sister and what sick things they must be doing to her. It’s worse than the physical torture. Midway through the umpteenth electrical shock, the power cuts in the room, the electricity stopping and his electromagnetic bindings loosening. “Damek, go see what’s going on.” The burly man leaves to figure out why the lights are off, and Abram, through his half-conscious haze, remembers that the knife previously used to mark his flesh sits next to his head, tormenting with the smell of his own blood. He fully returns to consciousness, quietly tugging his limbs from the limp bonds, biting his lip nearly through in order to suppress the agony with every movement. He remembers that he’s alone with Niska and lets out a groan to remind the old man how incapacitated he is. This draws the desired response from Niska, a taunt that gives away his location in the dark, and Abe slips the knife between his fingers, feeling hot tears sliding down his cheeks, the salt water dripping onto the abused flesh of his chest. The knife is freezing, sticky, coated in his dried blood, rebelling against the heated, over-sensitive skin of his palm. Niska keeps talking, and Abe thanks Buddha for that. He then sends a horrified apology to the Buddha for what he’s about to do. “Probably your father failing at rescuing you.” There’s screaming down the hall. “That’s your family dying, I’m su…” The old gangster doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Abe plunges the knife into his chest. Niska lets out a strangled cry as they fall tangled onto the floor. Still blinded by the darkness and now sticky in the old man’s blood, Abe feels for the throat with his left hand, lining the knife up above his fingers and slicing, combining instincts and the lessons Aunt Zoe, Jayne, and his father snuck behind his mother’s back. He turns his face to avoid the arterial spray and rolls off of the bony man’s body, the cane pressed painfully into his side, the knife slipping from his fingers. He tries to lift himself up, to go find Mei-Mei, but his arms have given out. The smell of warm blood fills his nostrils and if he had anything left in his stomach it would’ve spilled. Instead it’s just a dry retch. The gunshots continue, as well as hurried footsteps that sound like running. The door opens, and Abe suddenly knows he’s dead, that Damek has come back and will crush him quickly. But the form silhouetted in the flashlight is small and familiar. “Brother, Captain Daddy and I have come to take you home.” Aunt River calls behind her, “It’s clear.” She doesn’t seem horrified at the state she finds him in, just resigned. Abe’s not surprised. While Simon and Mal rush in to Abe’s side, she kneels above his head, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, saying everything, as she whispers, “I’m sorry, Brother.” “Mei-Mei,” he whispers, “Where’s Mei-Mei?” “Jayne’s gettin’ her, Bubba, don’t you worry,” Mal says, voice rough with emotion. “You did good, Abram. You did good. We got you.” The comm on Mal’s hip beeps, and he brings it to his mouth. “Yeah?” “We’re back on the ship, Mal,” Jayne’s voice crackles over the comm. “We got her.” “How… how is she?” “Not a scratch,” Jayne says, sounding puzzled. “Just sittin’ there, lookin’ none too pleased while an old wrinkly lady poured her tea… In the only cup that weren’t all in pieces. I swear, Mal, yer girly tore that place up somethin’ fierce. How’re you?” “Alive,” is all Mal says as River and Simon roll his bloodstained son gently onto the stretcher they brought. “Get little Washburn in the cockpit and Kaylee in the engine room. Call Zoe and Wash back. I want us disconnected as soon as we get aboard.” He shuts off the comm and turns to Simon. “What’s the word, doc?” “Multiple cuts, abrasions, heavy exposure to unsafe levels of electricity, exhaustion. Nothing life-threatening as long as we get him back into the infirmary soon.” “Both his ears still there?” “All features intact,” Simon nods, reassuringly, pale face strangely illuminated in the light. River has calmed down now, has been calm ever since they set foot on the Sky Plex, and leads the way, gun in hand. Mal grabs the end of the stretcher by Abe’s head, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder from his earlier bullet graze. “We’re goin’ home, Bubba,” Mal tells the groaning boy. “Stay with us, dong ma? When we get back, you can join the Niska club with me an’ Uncle Wash; we’ll trade stories.” Abe’s eyes are growing foggy, but Mal keeps talking to him all the way back to Serenity, River taking out any stragglers.

***

Inara is waiting when Jayne and Ally return, immediately sinking to the floor in relief as Jayne lays the unharmed child in her arms. “Talked to Mal. Grabbed Bubba and they’re on the way back.” “Mama,” Mei-Mei sobs over the occasional gunshots from the attacks on Serenity. They’re behind cover, and Inara cradles the little one against her chest, the hot tears of mother and daughter mixing. Wash and Zoe fight their way back onto Serenity, and Kacey and Kaylee have already begun to start the ship up. Zoe and Wash provide cover fire for the return of Mal and the Tam siblings, Jayne standing watch over Mei-Mei, Lolly, Ally, and Inara. “Are you hurt, Mei-Mei?” Inara manages to ask, looking her over for bruising. “Did they touch you?” “No, Mama,” Mei-Mei cries, burying her head into Inara’s shoulder. “She was gonna keep me, make me her little girl, but I…” Her mama shushes her, calms her down a little, and then the rest of the crew stumbles aboard, lying the stretcher on the cargo bay floor as Zoe punches the comm. “Go, Kace!” Serenity breaks seal and flies away. At the sight of Abe, Serra freaks, calling for him frantically and struggling to run to him. Inara pushes Mei-Mei into Jayne’s arms as she rushes to Abe’s side. The mercenary holds the ten-year-old’s sobbing body tight against him as she struggles and screams for her brother. The mother feels sick as she sees him there and drops to her knees beside him, hands first brushing across his brow and then reaching for his hands. “Mama,” Abe groans. His eyes widen in horror as she reaches for his hands. He rolls away from her as much as he can. “No… Dad… Daddy! I don’t want it touching her. Please…” Inara is horrified and as Mal touches her shoulder, withdraws her hands, glancing down at her son’s. They’re soaked with blood. “It’s Niska’s,” Mal croaks. “What?” Inara ask sharply, snapping her eyes to her husband’s, then noticing the fresh blood all over her son. “I killed ‘im, Mama,” Abe says miserably, closing his eyes. “I killed him.” “How did this happen?” she practically hisses at Mal. “I wasn’t there. He’d killed him already. Took advantage of the power outage, killed the man who tormented him. Found him half-passed out in Niska’s blood.” Inara’s hand flies to her mouth, sure she’s going to be sick. “Mei-Mei…” Abe moans, “Where’s Serra?” “We got her, Bubba, don’ you worry,” Mal assures the boy, trying to sound calm. “Bubba!” Mei-Mei continues to sob behind them, Jayne’s firm grip keeping her from running to him. “How, how is she?” Abram cracks his eyes open. “Shiny as a shiny thing. Not a mark on her. They found ‘er at a tea party of all things.” “They told me you ‘ere dead, Bubba…” Mei-Mei hiccups. “Don’t let ‘er see me,” Abe pleads, meeting his father’s eyes. “Take her and Mama away ‘til Uncle Simon fixes me. Please…” “Which is right now,” Simon finally interrupts, wanting to get Abram into the infirmary quickly. He looks to the pilot who’s just run down the stairs and stands frozen at the sight of his best friend. “Kacey? Zoe?” The two Washburns nod and pick up the stretcher, Mal holding Inara back as they take him away. “Ally, take Serra to the kitchen, get something in her belly, please,” Mal says as Inara sobs into his shirt. Ally motions to Jayne to follow her up the stairs, Mei-Mei still crying into the big man’s shoulder. The rest of the crew trails them, silently, leaving Mal and Inara in the cargo bay. “He’s just a baby, Mal.” Mal blinks his own tears away, holding her tight against him. “Not anymore. It’s not right, but he’s not a kid any more.” “You should’ve…” “I know. Wo de ma, I wanted to.” “We should go be with him.” Mal pushes her away gently, meeting her eyes. “You heard him: he doesn’t want you there. He doesn’t want this to touch you anymore than it already has.” “I don’t care what he wants,” Inara cries, pulling away from him. “He’s my son; I’m his mother. I should be with him.” “No,” Mal stands firm, remembering the look in his son’s eyes at the sight of his mother. “’Nara, don’t make this harder for him. I’m not gonna be there neither. He wants just Simon an’ Zoe fixin’ him up, he gets just Simon an’ Zoe.” She meet his eyes, and he knows she’s trying to be strong through this, through their baby boy’s abrupt transformation into a man, and he loves her for it. He cups her cheek, tears in his eyes. “Mei-Mei needs us now. Abe’ll need us later.” Inara raises a hand to his on her cheek, entwines their fingers. “I love you.” “Renci de Fozu, I do love you, woman.”

***

“Your ma and sis are wantin’ to see you,” Mal says, sitting on the stool by his son’s bed in the infirmary. The doc has sewn him up well; there will be very little scarring, save a faint line from shoulder to shoulder and two angry red circles where the electrodes were attached. “I don’t want to see them,” Abram says, refusing to meet his father’s eyes. “Oh, hell no. See, I stuck up for you to your mama when you wanted them away while you were gettin’ fixed. You damn near broke her heart, so you don’t get to play moody teenager. You ain’t really one of those anymore.” “I killed him.” “I know. ‘Twas right. Not right you bein’ the one to kill him, but him being killed, that was right. You did the right thing.” Abe shakes his head. “These hands have killed; they don’t deserve to touch her.” Mal tries not to roll his eyes at the dramatics. “We talkin’ on your sis or your ma here?” “Both.” “Well, if that were really the criteria, neither you nor your sister would be here, ‘cause I’ve killed plenty and with less justification than what you did. And I don’t think any man’s ever really worthy of touchin’ either of ‘em. Don’t tell your ma I said that, huh? She don’t like when I talk that way. Truth is, all three of you are better people right here.” He touches his son’s heart gently. “Than I’ll ever be. No ‘mount of killing is going to change that, Abe.” There are tears in Abe’s eyes but he fights them down. “Your mama’s taken her share of life, Bubba, a lot of it to keep you safe. Mei-Mei’s time’ll come. I ain’t happy about any of that, and I’d save you all from it if I could. You’re a man now, Abram, and with that comes the responsibility of protectin’ our girls as best we can, but knowing they’re perfectly capable of takin’ care of themselves if the occasion calls for it. Or even protectin’ us. Hell, Abe, few years time and your sis’ll be able to whip us all with any weapon you can think of, includin’ her bare hands. She’s made of tougher stuff than any of us.” “’Cept Aunt River.” “’Cept Aunt River,” Mal echoes, ghost of a smile on his face, “You ready to see our girls?” Abe takes a deep breath. “Send Serra in first.” Mal nods and goes to retrieve his daughter. “Alright, daughter-mine, your Bubba’s lookin’ a little rough, but he’s gonna be shiny. No teasin’, dong ma?” “Yep, Daddy.” “Run on in there.” He looks to his wife. “He wants to see her first. You’ll get your turn soon.” They watch their children reunite, Mei-Mei immediately resting her head on the bed next to Abe’s, body contorted oddly. “Strange little one,” Mal grins. They speak softly of a few minutes before Abe wincingly brings his hand up to Mei-Mei’s cheek, stroking softly. Mei-Mei gets up and twirls slowly, showing him she’s unharmed. She speaks loudly now, “She tried to tell me Mama and Daddy were dead and that she was my new mommy. I laughed so hard. I was like, ‘Lady, have you met my daddy? Man can’t die. Believe me, Mama’s tried. Have you met my mama? Well first of all, she’s much prettier than you, but also, she could kick your pi gu from here to the Core an’ back.’” “Mei-Mei!” Abe laughs, closing his eyes against the pain. Mei-Mei just grins, back to herself with the resiliency of a child. “You’re gonna be nothing but trouble even when you grow up, aren’t you?” “Plannin’ on it. As Daddy likes to say, ‘I aim to misbehave’.” Outside, Inara sighs, “We’ll both be completely gray by the time she’s twenty.” “I’m on my way there,” Mal grins, pulling at the gray at his temples. Mei-Mei bounces out, saying, “Bubba wants Mama now. Daddy, do we have ‘captainy’ things to do?” “I’m sure we can find something to do, baby-mine.”

***

They are silent, just watching each other, the mother cataloguing injuries, the son thankful his mama is unharmed. She sits down beside him, and though she usually sees a lot of her father and brother in him, right now she only sees Mal, bandaged and beaten but only worried about her. She grabs his hand, and this time he doesn’t flinch away, just squeezes back. “Hi,” Abe finally says, meeting her eyes. “Hi, baby,” she smiles, cupping his cheek with her free hand, thumb brushing the dark circle under his eye. “Uncle Simon did a good job.” “He’s the best,” Abe nods, giving her a smile in return, though like hers, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Until you go off and become a doctor.” “Of course,” Abe says. “Doesn’t seem so far away anymore.” Inara takes a heavy breath. “No. No, it doesn’t.” “Mama… what I did… It wouldn’t exactly, sit well, with the Buddha.” Inara closes her eyes and squeezes his hand. “Nothing’s black and white, Bubba. You know that. Circumstances…” “I feel dirty,” Abe confesses. “I didn’t think Dad would understand… He said I did the right thing, that he’s proud of me. Are you proud of me?” “Oh, Abram,” she breathes, “I will always be proud of you. You did what was necessary, right or wrong. That’s a part of being an adult. You’re already better at it than most adults will ever be. What you did was horrible, yes, but it had to be done. It isn’t who you are.” She meets his eyes. “You’re a healer deep down, Abe. I believe that. But the life we lead… it’s hard to avoid taking a life. You’ll do it again.” Abe closes his eyes against that thought. “Does it get easier?” “For some. For you? I don’t know.” They return to silence. “Abe, if you ever want to talk about what…” “No,” Abe interrupts. “Sorry. Maybe someday, just not with you.” A pause. “Wo ai ni, Mama.” She presses a kiss on his hairline and returns the sentiment.

el fin