(no subject)

[flybywash]

When he hasn't been sleeping or reading through the enormous stack of comics Tonks left for him, Wash has been practicing. Even with the crutches, he can't get too far from the bed before his good leg starts quivering from overexertion, and each attempt's been punctuated with a long, bone-tired nap.

At least he can keep his balance now, though.

Mostly.

Currently he's glancing at the crutches over the top of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle #12, Petrie snoozing on the pillow next to him, and debating whether or not to give it one more try today.

Comments

[badinlatin]

Mal scratches the side of his neck in response. "Tell me about it."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mal continues, "'S been awhile for us since we seen you."

[flybywash]

His brow furrows slightly, and he glances between Zoe and Mal.

"How long?"

If it'd only been a week here when he showed up, and the ship's already fixed after that fèiwù landing -- had to have been a while.

But the correct answer we're looking for here, Mal, is not something like 'two months' or 'three years.'

[badinlatin]

"'Bout two weeks."

Mal is somewhat sure of the notion he doesn't have to explain, being that two weeks sure as hell felt like a long time to them.

[flybywash]

...Not too bad, then.

It sends a tiny jolt through him anyway. Instinctively, one hand goes to Zoe's and stays there.

"Only been two days for me."

[badinlatin]

Mal's eyes go a bit narrower.

"Can't imagine it was entirely pleasant for two days on your end."

[flybywash]

Wash gives him a flat look that, somehow, still manages to be a bit teasing.

"I got stabbed, Mal." He points. "Right here."

Turnabout's only fair play.

[badinlatin]

Mal, the most blatant fake!indignant look on his face ever, points to just to the right of his liver.

"I got stabbed right here!"

Yes, Mal is aware he sounds like an idiot.

[flybywash]

"Hey, my stabbing was bigger!"

Beat.

"Please tell me I didn't just try to start a Who Had The Worse Mortal Wounding contest."

[badinlatin]

"Would if I could, Wash, would if I could."

A beat of Mal's own.

"Apparently I had a blooded eye for a couple days after everything. I think I would have looked rather fearsome."

[flybywash]

"Oh, so that's how you got everything fixed so fast." Musing. "Just started glaring with your terrifying bloody eye and made everyone start screaming, up to and hopefully including Jayne. I miss all the fun."

[badinlatin]

Mal turns a little...not softer, but, withdrawn a bit.

"Don't think I've been much in a mood to yell at folk recently."

[flybywash]

Wash regards him.

The smile, this time, is caught between relief and reassurance. He reaches and claps Mal on the shoulder.

"Glad to hear it, cap'n."

[badinlatin]

The corner of Mal's mouth turns up vaguely in the area of a smile. Vaguely.

Yeah, me too.

"Look, you get some sleep, dong ma? Won't have my pilot out o' commission longer than needs be if I can help it. Got things to do."

Mal may still be doing a jig in his brain at the fact that he still has a pilot. This may also be obvious at the way Mal's looking at Wash to make sure he's not about to break somehow.

[flybywash]

"I've been doing nothing but sleep," he complains, then grins. "But this is because it's a heartily enjoyable thing."

Especially if Zoe's next to him.

"So no use breaking that trend. You take care of yourself, sir."

[badinlatin]

"I'll try, at that."

With a last smile and click of his cane against the floor, Mal makes quick work of leaving the room.

Wash has Zoe. That's enough.