Mal-Death, on Hera.

[badinlatin]

Mal left Zoe not more than a few moments ago, heading toward North Cliff, and the memorial pylon placed in a position to overlook the entire Valley:

"July 18th, 2510. This marker is dedicated to the men and women who fell during the skirmishes for control of North Cliff. Toward the end of the battle, those Independent factions capable of travel regrouped here under the command of battalion officers unknown in order to hold the clear vantage point before the arrival of the aerial reinforcements hoped to be on their way."

Not a single person who was on Hera during the Battle thought of it as 'regrouping'. 'Regrouping' is what an organized military force does.

What they did was huddle, to survive.

(A man comes up against that kind of will, the only way to deal with it, I suspect, is to become it.)

Mal just stares at the pylon.

Comments

[locks_it_up]

Footsteps crunch on gravel. The blood's been washed off for a long time, now. Her mark hasn't.

She's not going to sneak up behind him. Some others, maybe, but him? Him she'll meet face to face.

"Hi, Mal."

[badinlatin]

Mal really should be startled at Her voice. The last person he saw around this area of the battlefield left around twenty minutes ago.

Mal doesn't even bat an eyelash.

"Wèi, miss."

He doesn't smile at her, but continues to read and reread the granite pillar.

[locks_it_up]

She peeks her head around the pylon, looking at the inscription, seeing if it changed any.

Nope.

She doesn't think he's exactly in a smiling mood.

"Suppose it'd be pretty dumb to ask if you're alright."

[badinlatin]

"It's not dumb," Mal replies quietly. "It's just that you know the answer to that already, most like."

under battalion officers unknown

"...There were no officers. They all got ruttin' mowed down less 'n a week into the battle. How can they not know that?"

[locks_it_up]

"They weren't here. Or they don't care. Or both."

She's never been one for the easy answer.

[badinlatin]

Mal shakes his head, finally moving away from the pylon, stepping closer to the edge of the cliff, looking down into the valley.

"I woke up this morning, and for a split I couldn't think of the names o' all the men in the platoon. First time in near a decade I couldn't think of them all off the top o' my head whenever I wanted to."

Mal leans to the ground with more than a bit of a groan, picking up a flat rock and tossing it as though it would skip straight out across the Valley instead of sinking straight down into it.

"I didn't come here in order to forget them all."

[locks_it_up]

"It has a way of happening. One of those human things, I suspect."

She doesn't have the luxury of forgetting.

"Didn't figure you did."

[badinlatin]

Almost exasperated: "Then what in the ruttin' hell did I come here for? I certainly hope it weren't for the ever-so-fun flashbacks to watching soldiers get their heads blown off. It's not how I normally choose to spend my free time."

And he does see them - right down to Bendis getting felled like a tree within arm's reach as the Alliance medships landed, picking the flesh off the bones.

Eventually, Mal reconnects with himself, turning to Death square in the face, "Don't mean to take a tone with you, miss."

[locks_it_up]

"Think nothing of it."

She hops up on the pylon, swinging her legs a little. From her, it doesn't seem disrespectful.

"Why did you come back, Mal?"

[badinlatin]

"Naomi," is the first word out of his mouth, then, "Inara. The crew. Zo'. Kaylee."

Mal laughs for half a second, an exhalation that sounds as though it was a choice between a laugh or a halfhearted shrug.

"I want to be..." Better? "...more capable. At being a husband. Bein' an uncle." A somewhat stronger smile at that. "I think I'd be good at it.

"And I didn't think I could do that if I didn't come back here willin'."

[locks_it_up]

She lounges on the pylon like a cat, chin in hand, regarding him.

"Think this'll help?"

[badinlatin]

Now Mal shrugs. "Don't know yet, just got here."

"I hope it does, though," he adds, again looking over the cliff's edge down and into

valley of the shadow of Death

a battlefield that looks much...smaller, by the light of day.

"'Mazin' how much this is just a place now, less than a nightmare." A hand raised in quick correction, "Not like I'm plannin' a vacation home, but -- "

I will fear no evil.

"I had to try."

[locks_it_up]

"It's always been just a place. Has as much hold on you as you let it. What you saw here, what you did here, what you felt here... you can leave it here. Maybe you couldn't before. But you can now."

She looks out over the valley, and smiles at the sinking sunlight.

"You don't have to stay anywhere forever."

[badinlatin]

"Maybe you got a point there, miss," Mal replies slowly. He looks as though he feels like smiling, like removing some of the lines across his forehead from worry, but a thought occurs to him.


(Dead friends haunt old soldiers)


"I don't have to stay anywhere forever, but they do."

The word 'they' accompanied by a vague wave toward the vast expanse of the valley below them both.

[locks_it_up]

There's a small, knowing smile.

"You really think so?"

[badinlatin]

All at once, Mal stands straighter, inhaling a deep breath of air - along with the momentarily desperate urge to let fall the one or two or ten tears he's probably got making his eyes shimmer.

The palm of his hand raises to one eye - allergies, obviously, from the willow trees planted nearby that are the same species from near his home on Shadow - and he refocuses to the woman still sitting on the pylon.

"You know - " an almost pathetic laugh " - it's really hard to be an atheist and believe in nothin' after this when I've literally met an angel, a demon, and you. And I literally seen a woman's path to Heaven. Makes a man a trifle frustrated."

A smile in return, because you can't not smile at Her, when she looks at you like that.

"Are they...?"

[locks_it_up]

"I can't tell you that, and you know it."

She sounds like a teacher trying to be stern. It'd almost work, except for the laughter in her eyes.

"But I'll say it again. You don't have to stay anywhere forever."

[badinlatin]

"Unless you choose to."




"Livin' through this led me to finding Serenity, and the crew on it," Mal states, probably more to the air itself than anybody listening.

[locks_it_up]

There might be half a smile there.

"Got to take the good with the bad. That's the deal. The total package, if you will."

[badinlatin]

Mal laughs at the pun formed in his mind

I lost Serenity to find Serenity. How very gorram cyclical.

and shoves his hands in the pockets of his battered coat, and while he doesn't look 24 like he did the last time he was on Hera, he loses a few years in that moment.

The laughter dies down, and the wind picks up, bouncing off the valley walls.

"Does -- " How do I ask this? "Does this make us different?"

Mal's not really sure how the whole 'belonging to an Endless' thing works.

[locks_it_up]

She sits up, smiling lopsidedly, a little helpless, a little goofy.

"You go whichever way you want, and I love you regardless. Can't help it. It's the way I'm built."

She loves everyone, after all.

[badinlatin]

Moving closer to the stone-turned-apparently comfortable seat, Mal half-nods to her, keeping an expression on his face somewhat like he has a juicy secret that he'd never tell.

"That's nice to hear."

[locks_it_up]

Death can be comfortable anywhere. Hearts of stars? So much less comfy than stone.

She's grinning a bit.

"Thought you should probably know."

[badinlatin]

"'S appreciated."

Someone explained to Mal once that the tarot card for Death didn't really always mean physical death, but change.

He doesn't think Death changes very much at all, and has never listened to tarot card readers.

"Think you should probably know too -- I don't have any plans on seein' you outside o' social calls for awhile."

Seein's how that almost actually did happen.

"Since we're on the topic o' full disclosure."

[locks_it_up]

"You know, I was thinking the same thing. Because if I see you trying that lame bullcrap ever again, not only will I not come for you, I will kick your ass seven ways to Sunday."

She leans down and ruffles his hair.

"Glad we're on the same page."

[badinlatin]

"Yes, ma'am." Laughing.

Over and beyond the pale woman's right shoulder, far enough away that Mal shouldn't really be able to recognize anyone, is a waving figure, standing in between several others. Mal gives a short wave back.

"Suppose I better think 'bout headin' back." His tone is a bit depressed at the idea, but only for leaving the company more so than the location.

[locks_it_up]

"Suppose you should. Take care of yourself, Mal. And tell Crowley I said hi next time you talk to him."

She leans back, a satisfied little smile on her face.

[badinlatin]

"Sure thing."

And if he waves Crowley specifically for that purpose, he'll leave it to the immortal being to figure out the context.

"Xiexie," Mal says finally, a formal sort of bow before walking past the pylon - and North Cliff - toward his crew, without looking back.