Sounds returned first: the hum of an engine; the clickings, whirrings and beeps of a control console; soft voices that grew louder and more familiar as she fought her way back to consciousness. Sound, then sensation – she was lying down, on some hard surface; within was a vague and distant notion of pain. Scent returned, in the grease and ozone smell of a ship’s interior. Last of all came sight, as Zoe opened her eyes and took in her surroundings: one of Serenity’s shuttles. The one Inara didn’t use.

Simon was there, hovering. “Welcome back,” he said, that soft voice he used when he was working. Working on her? Why would Simon be working on her?

Before she could sort her memories sensibly, Wash was there too, smiling nervously. “Baby? Hey, Zoe, good to have you back.” He was speaking softly, like Simon – worried. Wash had been worried about her, and Simon was working on her, and they were in the shuttle. Why were they not on Serenity? Her last memory, she was certain of it, was of the common room on Serenity, and now she was here instead. Injured.

“She doesn’t know,” said River, and Zoe knew that River meant that Zoe didn’t know why she was where she was, or why she was injured. But Wash and Simon didn’t know what River meant, and they ignored her cryptic comment. Wash grasped her hand, and Simon was checking some sort of monitor.

Zoe tried to speak, but her throat was dry.

“Wait. Here,” Simon said, producing a small cup of water from somewhere nearby. Wash slipped a hand under her head and helped her taste it. Helped a little too enthusiastically; Zoe nearly choked, and the water spilled down her chin. She gagged, swallowed, forced her voice to work: “What happened?”

Wash and Simon exchanged looks. “There was an explosion aboard Serenity,” he said. “You saved Kaylee’s life. But you were hurt,” the catch in his voice was pride, and worry, all in one.

“What else?” she demanded. She knew she was hurt, that much was obvious.