Inara didn't react, didn't even stir, while Mal shouted and jostled her. Her hand settled on her belly, the fingers relaxing, and she continued to breathe, slowly and rhythmically, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly with every draw. But she didn't wake up.
Somewhere else, she was swimming underwater, lost in the neverending blue, too distracted to notice the dim sun overhead, too preoccupied to care, to struggle towards it. She was floating, or maybe sinking, and everything around her was hazy and her limbs were heavy and her mind blank.
But slowly, hesitantly, like an echo from a distant chamber, something tugged her towards the surface.
Inara's cold skin warmed slightly under Mal's hands and the tiny frown deepened, almost imperceptibly. Her lips moved, almost shaping a word, but there was no sound, and if one had blinked, one would have missed it. Her ring finger flexed, and she sighed, and slept on.