“Children.” Hank was paler than ever, and Simon seemed to be fussing.

“What?” Mal stilled. After his conversation with Jayne, talking about whether Josh was capable ... “Kids?”

“I ... think so.” Hank closed his eyes, frustration and pain making his forehead tighten “I'm not sure. But I think so.”

“Before or after?”

“After what?”

“Being shot.”

“No idea.” He shrugged, then wished he hadn’t. “ Cao .”

Simon immediately stepped forward. “I don’t think it’s essential, Mal. It wasn't a child who shot Hank.”

“You know that for sure, doc?”

“You can’t honestly be suggesting –”

“Just saying.”

Simon shook his head. “Mal, Hank needs rest.” He adjusted the drip, opening the tap a little.

“Simon, it’s ... fine,” Hank insisted, trying to suppress a yawn. “I can’t ... even be sure what I saw.” He yawned again. “And I’m shiny.” He grinned sloppily, even as his eyes closed.

Zoe glanced up at Simon, who nodded slightly, before stroking her husband’s forehead as a slight snore erupted.

“Did you just dope him?” Mal accused.

Simon sighed. “You might be captain, but I’m the ship’s doctor. And I'm not going to allow you to jeopardise his recovery just because you think he hasn’t told you everything.”

Mal glared at him, but it was with a grudging respect that he said, “How come you always show you’ve grown a pair when I’m trying to do my job?”

“Your job is to find us work, which I don’t see any sign of, considering the crates still cluttering up the bay.”

“Don’t push it.”

A tiny chuckle escaped Simon’s lips. “Put it down to tiredness if you like, but I mean what I said.”

“Hmmn.” Mal shook his head. “So you think I should pack us up and run, tail ‘tween our legs?”

“Frankly ... no.”

Mal couldn't have been much more surprised. “You don’t?”

Simon turned away, busying himself with nothing in particular. “I'm not an advocate of retribution. But then I searched for my sister to the detriment of my own health and sanity, and I’d do it again. I might