When Zoë had occasion to consider her past and all the events that had made up her life so far, it seemed to her that most everything could be portioned out, contained and counted in her mind, as either a before or an after. Before she joined the Army. Before the War. After she found herself drawn to and then unable to leave Mal; after she had accepted the position of second-in-command on Serenity.

Before Wash.

The defining moment in her life, Zoë knew. Many times, lying in his arms, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, she had been convinced that there was nothing in the 'verse with the power to alter her course as perceptibly as his entry into her life had.

She had sure been wrong about that one. Seemed to her now that each moment from here on out would be clouded by his absence. The most significant before or after that she could imagine. After Wash. For Zoë, there would be no further defining moments. For Zoë, the end of Wash's life felt, peculiarly enough, like the end of her own.

He ain't comin'.

Zoë kept her eyes on her gun, unable to look at Kaylee as she spoke. She was barely keeping it together as it was, and Zoë was more than certain she did not want to see the same hurt and shock that was currently threatening to bring her to a standstill mirrored in the faces of the others. Not if she was gonna be the one to get everybody through this if Mal should ...

Zoë? You here? Mal grabbed her elbow, hard, turning her to face him. His eyes, grim and determined, searched her face. She met his gaze, couldn't speak. He needed to know if she was able do what was what must be done. She took a breath, leaned into his grip a bit, steadied herself. To the job, sir.

It was all he needed to hear. You hold. Hold 'til I get back. Then he was gone.

* * * *

They had not talked much since then, Zoë and Mal, about what had happened. She knew there was no comfort he could provide her beyond his