PART 2 – Help Rushes In

Inara reclined on her porch swing and stared up at the stars, dreaming of the days when she traveled between worlds rather than watching them cross her sky. It was cold for August, and she either wanted her husband to come out here and keep her warm, or she needed to get some hot chocolate and a fleece blanket. She was just about to call out for Mal when the night air filled with a wretched cry and the sound of smashing glass.

Her heart quickening, Inara jumped from her swing and dashed inside. Mal leaned over the sink, his head bowed broodingly as he reigned in the outburst that had sent a collection of teacups crashing to the floor. Tension rippled through him and Inara kept her distance, not wanting to be in his path if he lashed out again.

“Is it Michael?” she whispered fearfully. Since her son had shipped out six months ago, she’d been constantly worried for his safety.

“Zoë,” Mal said tersely. “Relapse.”

His fists clenched and unclenched, and then he reached out to her. Inara took his hand, but he hooked her into an embrace. Hugging him gently, she waited in silence, wanting to know why the news had rendered her favorite tea cups into shards. Zoë had been fighting cancer since she was five, and had had half a dozen relapses over the years. The news always hit Mal hard, because every time he thought about losing little Zoë, he lost her Momma all over again, but he normally stored the anger for later. Perhaps, being off the job now, the teacups were his only outlet for violence.

“How far has it spread?” Inara asked.

“She said to bring Jayne.”

Inara’s hand flew to her mouth and her heart sank. Burying her face in both hands, she prayed fervently that things were not as bad as Zoë’s request implied.

*~*

Simon’s knee ached in protest as he hobbled down the hall to Little Zoë’s room as quickly as his feet would take him. He’d known her, loved her, and been her doctor for her entire life. He’d be damned if he outlived her. He carried the hospital’s chart and his own