have disappeared the moment she saw the fear in Meg’s eyes when she finally opened them.
She almost threw herself out of the bed before Serenity could hold her down.
“You’re all right!” she assured her while she struggled with the woman’s weight. Meg had always been a small thing, but it felt like what Gren had done to her had taken what little weight she had. She was a wraith in Serenity’s restraining arms, and her face, so pale and drawn looked the same. Serenity wanted to cry, even before Meg finally realized she was safe and burst into savage tears.
Serenity pulled her into her arms while the woman clung to her and cried as if her heart was broken. And Serenity held her in the solitude of the Medbay and cried right along with her until Meg had cried herself out and fallen back to sleep.
Serenity looked up from the sleeping woman when the door opened and Mal walked in, his eyes on her and Meg, seeing, she was sure, more than either of them would want him to.
“She woke up?” he asked. But what Serenity realized he was asking was if Meg was mentally there, but it was not something Serenity could answer yet.
“She woke up, screamed in fear, tried to run and then cried herself to sleep in my arms.” It was a dry rendition of the heartbreaking facts, but it was not the answer for either of them. “Until she is calm enough for a conversation I won’t know the damage he has done.”
She looked at him then, her eyes feeling dry and puffy from all the crying. “What he did to her,” she finally spoke after a short silence. “It would have been worse if we hadn’t come when we did. He was getting ready to…”
“I know,” Mal cut her off. “But he didn’t, and he won’t hurt anyone else.”
“How many before though?” she asked just as low. “How many looked the other way when he did it because of who he was?” She looked back at Meg when he had no answer, at least not one he wanted to give. “Is he the worst?” she finally asked after another long silence.
Mal gritted his teeth. She could see the hardening of his jaw and the cold flash of his eyes. The answer was clear. And neither of them liked it.
“We’ll stop them,” he said the fire flashing in his eyes showing her he meant every word. “We contacted the resistance and set up the meet.” He stepped toward her close enough that she could see the sparks of power behind his eyes.
“You were right,” he said his voice a growl and his eyes nearly as haunted as Meg’s. “About all of it. I swear to you that if you stay with me no child will ever again be taken from his parents, indoctrinated or have his mind tagged without his knowledge.”
“If I stay?” she asked. “You say that like you intend for me to have a choice.”
If it was possible, his jaw clamped down harder before he spoke through gritted teeth.
“I’m not like them,” he gritted out and she could see more than anger, almost despair there. “I will not take what you do not want to give. I will not. No matter how much I hate the idea of letting you go, I will. If that is what you want.”
She said nothing for a long time, and then she took a deep breath and turned back to her patient when Meg moaned in her sleep. She didn’t look back at Mal Ryn, but she did speak almost too low for him to hear, if he had been anyone else but who he was. “I’ll stay, for now.”
She didn’t need to turn around to feel how much her words moved him. But it wasn’t awfully long before his usual arrogant expectation was back. She heard the satisfaction in his voice when he spoke again.
“For now?” he asked, and she fought the need to roll her eyes at the dark promise he infused in those words. “We’ll see about that.”
She heard him leave with the swooshing of the door at her back and smiled just a little at the new hope flowing through her. Getting back to what she needed to do, Serenity sent her healing light back into a now moaning Meg.
She would fight off the darkness for her friend until she could do it for herself.
Letting Mal Ryn do all the things that his voice promised he wanted to do to her would have to wait. For now.