“How are you this morning?” asked Dr. Morgan. “All things considered.”

“Fine,” replied Mal.

“That’s good,” said the doctor, rising and giving him an injection. “That should feel pretty good, too.” He sat and faced Mal. “I’m here to decide whether to send you back to your housing unit, or hold you here.”

“Oh.” Mal looked away. "You want to know how to treat me, sir?"

"Yes," said Dr. Morgan. Mal got the feeling the answer was sincere.

"Let me crawl off into a corner and lick my wounds. I'll come off okay."

“Do you have friends in there?” asked Dr. Morgan. Mal nodded. "Here's the thing," said the doctor. "I can put you back in your housing unit. I’d leave strict orders to treat you like a hospital patient, not to force you out to meals or push you around or put you in handcuffs. It’s just that I can't guarantee they'll obey. You're in a certain amount of danger, given the mood of things, and it goes against my instincts to throw an injured man to the wolves, so to speak."

Mal considered. "Rather take the chance, sir. Most of our regular guards – they seem decent enough. I don't see them doing me any harm."

The doctor nodded and looked him directly in the eyes. “Are you thinking about killing yourself?” he asked. “You’ve been through some horrible trauma, and you’re going to be confined here for years. I don’t want to rub it in, but doesn’t that make you despair a little?”

Mal looked down. “Yes sir, it does,” he admitted honestly.

“Would you rather die than face that?” Doctor Morgan’s voice was gentle and calm.

“No, sir,” said Mal. “I’d rather live than die. Truly. ”

Dr. Morgan sighed. “Okay, I’ll ask the guard to take you back to your housing unit. If you ever need someone to talk to, or just to get out, tell the guards you’re feeling sick. We’ll help you, even if it’s just to give you someone to talk to or a change of scenery. You’re important to us,” he said, giving Mal’s hand a squeeze as he stood.

~~~~~

Mal blinked. Lined up at attention just in