This time, it’s Ilargia who nearly falls over a soggy little person on the stairs.

“River, sweetie, have you hurt yourself?”

“Only inside.” Inelegant snuffle. “Stupid man.”

There is only one person who River reserves that tone of voice for. Ilargia sits down.

“What’s Captain Dummy said now?”

River shakes her head, takes the proffered hanky. Ilargia sighs. She isn’t cut out to be motherly.

“Adequately parented.” River tells her. “Don’t need more. Got a father, however distant.”

Ilargia filters that, comes up with a fair idea of what the problem is.

“I don’t think this is the best time to overload his mind, sweetie.” She rubs her eyes. “You did something extraordinary to get us out of our mess, didn’t you?”

“Something only I could do. No choice.” Lip trembles. “Why does being useful hurt so much?”

“You get too good at things, people sometimes take you for granted. Forget to say ‘thank you.’”

“Like they did on Bernadette.”

“Like that.” Ilargia agrees calmly. “But that’s my private business. And a long time past.”

River looks at her.

“We all have clean clothes, now. Fresh bread. Coffee and cookies while we work. He never says ‘thank you’ to you, either. But I notice.”

Ilargia actually blushes.

“You notice lots of things.” She stands up. (Not as young as she used to be, can’t sit on cold steps for too long.) River looks up at her.

“Does it get better?”

“Eventually. Hormones are crap.” She tries to think of a good way of putting things. “This isn’t exactly a good environment for quiet reflection.”

“Only one we have.” Manages a small smile. “Here and now, we are alive.”

“Here’s hoping we stay that way.” Gives River’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

River watches her go. There’s strength of a different order to Ilargia. The woman lost nearly all her possessions and almost her life a few months ago, yet she has quietly got on with the business of living. River knows she has nightmares, s