A.N. – The texture of these narrations is a bit different, so let me know if you still like it.

PART 7: HE WORKED

Mal balanced and reclined as best he could in the stiff hospital chair, Little Zoë asleep on his lap. The color had returned to her face, but her shoulders still slumped, having carried more weight in the past three months than any five-year-old should ever be asked to carry. Thanks to Simon’s top-three-percent medical expertise and his connections to core physicians, Little Zoë had received cutting edge treatment and was recovering quickly. The only reason they were still in the hospital was that Serenity was not clean enough for her weakened immune system. It broke his heart that the home he had provided, the ship he loved, was not safe for his little girl.

Mal rocked Little Zoë in his arms, enveloped in her recovery, giving only the vaguest attention to Jayne as he spoke. Jayne had come in a half hour ago, looking unbalanced with all his weapons concealed (as hospitals weren’t prone to allowing heavily armed mercenaries roam the corridors) and begun his speech with his lifelong mantra.

“Mal, we need coin.”

It was about there that Mal had stopped listening. The need for income was just one more plague on his existence. Hospital bills, port taxes, food. Even if he sold his boat, that would only buy a few more days planet-side. He didn’t even want to dwell on the new mouth he’d be feeding in eight months time... Well, maybe he could dwell on his and Inara’s coming baby for a moment. Erase all the fear, insecurity, and poverty, and hold on to the promise of happiness.

“We can’t wait much more.” Jayne’s voice cut through the promise with his own take on reality. Mal shifted the sleeping Zoë so she wouldn’t put his whole left arm out, and he thought of his crew. They hovered in his memory, separated from the current situation by a lifetime and then some. He needed to disband and let them go their own way. They all wanted to stay together, Mal knew; and if he didn’t Jayne w