Mal was still sitting at the dinner table. Jayne had finished the soup and left. The big mercenary hadn't said much, he never did, and that had suited Mal fine. He wanted very much to be alone right now. It hurt to sit up straight. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. He sighed and put his head in his hands. And promptly winced. All right, so his head hurt to.

Mal had put on his captain face in the hangar bay earlier. Checking if his crew was fine. Doing all kinds of captainy things. Worrying about Kaylee. Worrying about Simon. Worrying about Wash, especially. He had done his very best to drag him through Niska's torture, but he wasn't quite sure if he had succeeded. In any case, Wash had Zoe to take care of him. He would be fine, eventually. Mal wasn't sure if he himself would be fine. Some of the things Niska had done to him he would really like to push to the back of his mind and bury them forever, never to think of them again. And looking after Wash had taken a lot out of him as well. But his crew didn't need to know that. He was their captain. He would never show them his pain. Only Zoe might know. He had seen the look in her eyes when they had come to rescue him. She knew him, had stood by his side for years. But she was busy comforting her husband. Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly. He put his hands flat on the table. Mal desperately tried to steady himself, he could feel his emotions raging inside. He could not get Niska's grinning face out of his mind.

Mal got up slowly from his chair, pausing to fight the wave of dizziness that washed over him. He quickly went over his options. Sleeping. No, that wouldn't do, too many nightmares there, old and new. Getting drunk. No, not today. Dragging Zoe away from her husband to talk to her. No, Wash needed her more today. Or any day, for that matter. He sighed again. Simon. He could talk to Simon. After all, he was a doctor. He paused, let the idea run around his mind, but finally rejected it as well. He would get through this by himself. He was the captai