Simon crossed the common area to his quarters, glancing back only once. Mal was still standing by Freya’s side as she slept, exchanging some words with Hank on the other bed. Mal was smiling, the first real smile he’d had for days.

Simon looked at his door, but didn’t go in straight away. Instead he slid open the door to River’s room, just checking on her. She was asleep, her arms clutching one of the spare pillows, her face turned towards him. Her mouth was slightly open, and as he watched he saw her lift her hand and slip her thumb between her lips. He smiled a little. She hadn’t sucked her thumb since she was six, but he wasn’t going to say anything, not with what she’d been through.

He’d had to shave a small area of hair at the base of her skull so he could dress the wounds where the tubes had been attached, but it wasn't too noticeable. She’d been much more worried about Freya, refusing to rest until she’d known the older woman wasn't going to die. Even then, it had taken a mild sedative to make her sleep. She’d been afraid she’d dream of Miranda, but Simon assured her that was all gone now. He almost believed it himself. But it would be a while before River was back to normal – well, as normal as she got. He had the feeling, though, that little Bethany was going to have a hand in that.

He closed the door quietly and turned to his own. He admitted a reluctance, no matter what Mal said. He still felt guilty, less than a man, but at least he wasn't running this time. And in there was the mother and child who depended on him.

He slid the door across and peeked in. They were asleep, both of them, Kaylee on the bed and Bethany in the crib next to her. Kaylee must have fallen asleep talking to her daughter, because her hand was off the bed and in the cot, resting against Bethany’s cheek.

Simon swallowed and stepped inside, closing the door behind him to stop any draughts.

He moved closer and looked down at Bethany. At his daughter. She was so small, so beautiful, and it broke