Truthsome, Part V: Freedom

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Mal was different after the time in solitary, Zoe could see. She supposed she was too. She'd always been regarded as the stone cold one of the two, while Mal had taken insidious delight in the dangers they faced, meeting them all with good cheer and unswerving faith--faith that it would all work out well, faith that they'd win, faith in God... Now he never smiled and that darkly murderous expression crossed his face every time he looked at one of the Alliance guards.

When some of the other prisoners held a prayer meeting or reading, they both pointedly moved off toward the farthest corners of the prison. She hadn't seen Mal pray since the last battle at Serenity Valley, and while she'd never been as devote as he was, she'd given it up too during the eighty-seven days he'd been locked away in the dark. God had abandoned them on all fronts. He was still a believer--she knew that--but now he rejected God. It was just the two of them now.

Zoe didn't tell that part of the story aloud. Neither did Mal. It was still a thing that was just theirs--hers and Mal's alone, shared but unspoken between the two of them.

With Wash kneading her hand comfortingly, or perhaps possessively, Zoe watched her other man, Mal. He'd achieved a sufficient level of intoxication, and appeared to realize it. He nudged the bottle away with an inch still in the bottom.

“After that the Alliance started in on our 'education’,” Zoe said. Mal looked up at her and grinned. It was a vaguely frightening grin.

“Yeah. Still using their teachings.”