Zoë lay in their bed staring up at the ceiling of their quarters. It had been one month, one entire month without him. While it had been unbearable, she had showed no signs of her inner grieving to the rest of the crew. She had always dealt with life's issues on her own; at least, until Wash had come along.

She could recall many a time when Wash had sat with her while one wound or another was bein' patched up. She had never asked him to, but he was always there for her. Nightmares of the war had also plagued her at times. And Wash would be there for her. He didn't ask any questions, he would just hold her. He didn't know this, but he had been her support. He had kept her standing. And now she was faltering.

Zoë forced herself out of her bed and started to get dressed. She left her curly hair down and slipped on a navy blue dress. She had never quite liked this dress, but Wash had told her, "Sometimes, you don't need to fight, Zo. Sometimes you just need to enjoy yourself." Zoë still didn't get it; you couldn't kick ass in a dress.

As she was walking across the room to the attached bathroom, her eyes landed on a picture on the dresser. It was a picture Kaylee had taken on Persephone one night. In it, Wash was holding Zoë and both of them had big grins on their faces. The look in Wash's eyes...she could see the love he had for her just in his eyes.

Zoë choked back a sob. "Bao bay..." She picked up the picture, her hands shaking. "I never got attached to people, Wash. People 'round me died and all I could do was watch. You were supposed to be different. My constant. Now what am I supposed to do?" She was silent for a moment before speaking again, "I'm dying inside." The picture fell to the floor, the glass frame shattering.

**********

The infirmary lights bounced off of the glass vial as River picked it up. "You were supposed to be different. My constant. Now what am I supposed to do?" She started to cry. "I'm dying inside." She dropped the glass vial to the floor and it shattered.

Simon watched he