She held herself together, apart, trying to avoid the tears Kaylee couldn’t stop, all the sympathetic looks from the rest of the crew. She made out like she was fine, that everything was okay, that it was a shame but life went on. She avoided River most of all.

The casket was small, so small that it looked like a doll’s, if such an awful thing were ever made. Jayne had crafted it himself out of packing cases, his sure hands carving and creating until it was perfect. River had helped, sitting in the cargo bay with him all night, handing him the tools he needed before he could ask. Inara gave them a red satin cushion to line it with, and Kaylee painted it with little flowers inside, feeling her baby kick as she leaned forward. Zoe went to her bunk and came back with a toy dinosaur, knowing Wash would have approved.

Hank spent hours on the Cortex, finding a place, not far, where they could hold the funeral, then contacted a local preacher willing to say a few words.

Simon, his face set and pale, did his part, and the casket lay in the cargo bay, sealed tight.

“It’s beautiful,” Mal said as Hank landed the Firefly at the place he’d chosen.

“Seemed the right spot,” the pilot said quietly.

“Thank you.”

It was the side of a hill overlooking a small valley, a single clump of trees giving shade from the noonday sun. Snow-capped mountains fringed the background, and a stream glittered along the floor. As the cargo bay ramp lowered, the scent of sweet grass filtered inside.

“Frey,” Mal said, coming down the ladder into their bunk. “We’re ready.”

She nodded, adjusting the loose white top she had borrowed from Inara in lieu of a funeral dress, smoothing it down over her belly. That simple action almost broke him.

“Frey ...” he began, but she shook her head. She passed him and climbed up to the corridor above.

Outside there was birdsong, and the sound of the water bubbling over stones not far away. The others were waiting, standing by the grave dug by Jayne and Zoe, so small and empt