He fights it for half a second. One of them needs to be okay and he's the one that's used to this shit so it should be him but- another tug and Mal looks like he's gonna sit up and he can't-

He stumbles his way into the cot. Curls around Malcolm and buries his face against his suit, sucking in shuddering breaths. It's more than Malcolm holding him close, it's the ghost of her fingertips combing through his hair. Mal's hair. Murmuring that they did good. That it's okay to rest. She'll keep watch.