*** EXPLICIT WARNING!! PLEASE READ!!***

This story is NOT suitable for people under 18 years old. This instalment contains a strong scene of gore and sexual Reaver violence, (from the beginning), that some readers may find offensive. Also, this story is NOT for the faint hearted. If you prefer tame horror action, this is definitely not the story for you. I’ve pushed the envelope in a bold way. In previous stories, the action and violence has been pretty regulated, although I’ve moved way outside my own comfort zone for this one. Primarily, I want to write stories that contain a strong emotion core, and continue to do so. There’s no point in writing otherwise. Hopefully, this is portrayed in this latest chapter. The narrative is pretty heavy, and I found the early scene hard to write. I don’t want to write gory, violent stories, if they are void of emotion. Furthermore, the text has been thoroughly proof read. A big thanks goes to ItsaWash, TheCowboyFromHell and RiverIsMyGoddess for their proof reading skills and feedback.

DISCLAIMER: The firefly names and locations featured in this work of fiction are the property of Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy Inc. I’m just borrowing them for a while. :) No breach of copyright is intended.

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Previously on Resurgence:

Reavers. They have an unhealthy habit of sneakin’ up on me and my own. We had no option but to fight. I wouldn’t let them harm any of my crew. We won, and sent those flesh eating bastards to the special hell. ‘Cept, that wasn’t the end of it. Not by a long shot. I ordered everyone to stay in their bunks. Best place to be, what with Reavers still on the loose. Or, so I thought.

Zoe did a fine job too - even broke her arm to keep their numbers down. But, we let one slip away. Now, the good doc’s payin’ for our mistake. He’d do anything to protect his sister. The boy’s got courage, I’ll give him that. There ain’t much I’m certain of in this life, but there’s one thing I do know: things are about to get a whole lot worse.

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The dorm room of River Tam.

River screamed, louder than her vocal chords could handle. An uncomfortable feeling coursed through her body. Like maggots in the brainpan. Her tear filled eyes swam around the room. She watched, as a Reaver pressed Simon against the wall. Its crazy, bloodshot eyes were set on ripping him apart. River sobbed. This was a reality that she would rather soon forget. She had seen enough bloodshed in the last 36 hours. No thanks to the Reavers, and their barbaric way. “Simon?!” The Reaver tightened its grip around Simon’s neck. In response, Simon arched back. Each bony digit felt coarse against his skin. The Reaver grinned, eyeing up its new play thing. Simon gasped, as he caught sight of its face. It, or rather she, looked like a Chinese woman. Her jet black hair had all but vanished on top. Irradiated flesh was grafted on the cheekbones. Her partially exposed breasts, glistened with blood and engine grease. The monster stood quietly, pressing Simon into the bulkhead wall. The young doctor wriggled in mid air. No matter how much he tried to move away, he could still feel her stinking breath against his face. Suddenly, the creature released its grip, allowing Simon to slide back onto the floor. A slight frown broke through the terror on the young man’s face. What was going on? The female Reaver glared into its victim’s eyes, almost sensing the new found curiosity. A couple of inaudible grunts followed, and the floor space between them narrowed. Before Simon could escape, he was thrown against the wall once more. A sickly lump formed in his throat. On second thought, he would rather not find out. With a violent swipe of the hand, the front of Simon’s trousers ripped open. He flinched wildly as a couple of slender fingers thrust themselves inside. It was now clear what the Reaver’s intentions were. “Wúnéug de rén!” Simon spat. The beast ignored the outburst, and leaned in closer. The helpless doctor squirmed, trying to lift his legs up into a defensive position. In the background, River moved to the edge of her bunk. Her watery eyes darted back and forth, transfixed on the savagery that, until now, had only existed in folklore. “No! Stop it!” In response, the bitch’s head whipped around. Its pus filled eyes narrowed, overflowing with hatred. River clutched her forehead. A wave of psychic energy pressed against her temples. The pain was excruciating. The Reaver’s brain was like a transmitter; sending out wave after wave of harmful signals. “River, get out of here! It’s okay!” Simon called. The words bled out of his medical mind. It was apparent that everything was not okay. He was certainly no fighter, but was determined that no harm would come to his sister. River shook her head. There had to be something that she could do, if only she wasn’t consumed by so much fear. Her gaze wavered to the doorway; her mind consumed by strategic thoughts. Eventually, she looked at her brother and choked back a sob. There was no way out! “I can’t Simon!” The monster turned back, punching Simon square in the face. In a single motion, she bent down to grab Simon’s exposed penis. Every inch of the doctor’s body crawled. He pushed against the will of his attacker, blocking every frenzied attack. Relentlessly, the deformed bitch thrust her lips over the shaft. Simon fought for every inch of his life. He let out an agonising scream as the head was forced deeper into her mouth. The Reaver snarled, pinning his lower back against to the wall. Nothing would stop it from carrying out this wave of sexual terror. Simon’s arms swung about the creature’s back. His knuckles were raw; each one colliding with the thick body armour, and to no avail. “No!” Simon choked. A sharp pain swept across his cock. Simon cried, feeling something graze the tip. A surge of adrenaline built up deep inside. The young doctor slammed his fists onto the bitch’s head, and anywhere that his blood stained arms could reach. A loud growl emanated from between Simon’s legs. He could feel a strong hand pulling on his collar, and he was unceremoniously thrown onto his back. Simon groaned. The room dipped and swayed through mild concussion. A trickle of fresh blood ran down his face. Simon’s gaze shifted to the bed. River scrambled on top of the sheets, like a frightened lab rat. In response, he weakly held up a hand, cautioning his sister. “No mei mei, stay back!” The she-bitch closed in, moving onto the next phase of attack. Simon looked up in terror, unable to fight back. Without hesitation, she pounced onto Simon’s battered frame. Her thick legs smashed into his waist, unwilling to let go. The air reeked of blood and oestrogen. The Reaver’s entire body now pressed down on Simon’s genitalia. Simon let out a muffled cry. He could feel his penis slide deeper into her blackened folds. Unfortunately, he had caught a glimpse of her lower region. It was a moist patch of rotting hair and skin. The skin was charred, looking more like aged leather. A sheen of crimson glistened across the tip of her bud. The lurid fiend growled maniacally, squeezing the life out of her victim. The air burst from Simon’s lungs, rendering him semi conscious. The beast’s head swung around in a fit of enraged ecstasy. Her jet black hair swished about her face, like a wet dog drying itself off. Simon flinched, reacting to the sudden shift in body weight. He squirmed, as flakes of broken skin rubbed against his shaft. His cock pumped in and out, adhering to the will of the recipient. The life had all but drained from Simon’s body. Fresh tears ran down his face. The pain was unbearable. He recalled the first time he received a bullet to the leg, although it was a pin prick in comparison. Clotted blood crumbled from the beast’s vagina, growing more intense with each thrust. In the background, River shuddered. She could almost feel the pain and exhaustion on her brother’s face. Suddenly, the intensity of the Reaver’s love making increased. Every muscle in Simon’s lower back ached. The creature was like a sadistic energiser bunny. It seemed that nothing could satisfy her hunger. The she-bitch leaned over her sex toy. Simon let out a yell, feeling his cock bend in the wrong direction. Her breasts dangled loosely over Simon’s face. Each bosom felt cold to the touch. Purple and black veins formed around the nipples, and down into her body armour. The sound of heavy footsteps approached. Fiercely, the Reaver retracted her vagina, leaving Simon to writhe in agony on the floor. A figure loomed in the doorway, casting its shadow onto the far wall. It was Jayne. He looked a little pissed; his beloved Vera primed, and ready to waste the flesh eating fiend. “Waitin’ hours is over.” he quipped. “The doc ain’t seeing no more patients.” The creature’s face twisted with rage. Jayne grinned, watching and waiting. His fingers gently stroked the trigger. It was a turkey shoot, he thought. No way out. Defiantly, the Reaver scratched Simon on the left cheek. Fresh blood trickled down its bony fingers. Nothing would come between it and its prey. Not even Jayne. “Hey, that ain’t playin’ nice!” Jayne barked. River flinched as gunshots filled the air. They made an unusual sound, like human skulls breaking underfoot. She paused, correcting herself. It took her a moment to realise that it came from a bullet, as it tore through the monster’s skin. The Reaver screamed, as the metallic shards penetrated its organs. Discoloured blood sprayed from its body. Bits of cartilage flew across the room. Amidst the chaos, Simon lay trembling on the floor. From his bloody vantage point, he looked up at River. She looked beyond frightened. Her hands were pushed down onto the side of her face. Simon opened his mouth, trying to form a sentence. “River?” He frowned. The words come out but they made no sound. Why won’t they listen? Simon squeezed his eyes shut, regaining some focus. The Reaver had knocked the stuffing out of him. It was a miracle that he was still alive. Groggily, Simon motioned to his feet. The room swayed back and forth through head splitting concussion. It’s cold now, so cold he thought. Simon stumbled forward. A bloody hand clutched the side of the bed, steadying his gait. It’s okay, I know what to do, it’s okay, he thought. A sickening feeling surged through his lower body. The she-bitch had certainly had her way with him. He felt dirty and inferior, and nothing could ever change that. He had been violated in the most unimaginable and disgusting way. Simon shuddered, losing all the feeling in his legs. Before he could pull himself up, he lost consciousness. The monstrosity spun around. Discoloured blood stained the nearby wall as it made a half circle. Its eyes were filled with immeasurable rage. The Reaver locked eyes with the young girl. Blood oozed from multiple bullet wounds. Suddenly, it let out a scream and lunged at its new target. River looked on, paralysed with fear. “Nien ching duh, move out of the way!” Jayne barked. River barely had a second to respond. The mercenary had already pushed her aside before he could finish the order. Jayne let out a grunt as the beast came at him full force. He fell to the floor, his beloved Vera slipping from his grasp. River stared at the well crafted gun on the bed. A sense of fear swept over her. The sight of guns made her feel sick. In the background, Jayne wrestled with the monster. With all the strength that he could muster, the merc swung his fist at the Reaver’s face. A sickening crunch filled the air, and she stumbled backwards. Jayne glanced back at River, and then gestured to Vera on the bed. “Gorramit, pass me my gun!” A shiver of uncertainty ran down the young girl’s back. Hesitantly, she picked up the gun and held it in her left hand. River’s eyes filled with tears. The touch of metal seemed strangely comforting in her palm. “Bèn dàn! What’s taking ya so long?!” Jayne snapped. Suddenly, River raised a quivering arm, and took aim at the creature. Jayne’s eyes widened. He was now staring down the barrel of his favourite gun. That ain’t the plan little girl, he thought. Without hesitation, the mercenary ducked for cover. The Reaver hit the back wall, taking full force of the blast. Its bullet ridden carcass bounced like a rag doll, until it finally hit the floor in a bloodied heap. River discarded the weapon like an old toy that had lost its appeal. Her eyes wandered to the blood stained sheets, and the limp body at the foot of the bed. “Simon?!” Please, God, don’t let him be dead! Before she could prove that notion, a pair of strong hands wrapped themselves around her. It was Jayne. River struggled in the mercenary’s grasp. “Simon fell down the rabbit hole!” she cried. “Jayne!” came Mal’s stern voice. Jayne clenched his teeth, battling against the young girl’s will. Eventually, River broke free. Her cries carried along the corridor as she left her brother behind. Mal stepped into the centre of the room, assessing the damage. He glared angrily in Jayne’s direction. He was growing sick of the mercenary’s incompetence. “This is just great!” he boomed. “Can’t you do anything right?” Jayne glowered, the tone of Mal’s voice made the veins on the side of his neck twitch. “Hey! The little girl took my-” Mal waved a hand in Jayne’s face. He had heard enough excuses for one day. “I don’t want to hear it.” he interrupted. Jayne looked on silently. He wasn’t in the mood to start a fight, and certainly not with the captain. Stepping over the trampled doorway, and drawn to the sound of loud voices, Zoe came into view. Despite the freshly broken arm, she was ready to assist in any way possible. Mal remained quiet, staring at the mercenary. There were times that Jayne tested his patience, and more often than not. Zoe looked on awkwardly. She could smell the coppery stench of blood and testosterone in the air. “I saw River on the catwalk a few moments ago.” she interjected. “I believe she was making her way to Shuttle Two.” Mal raised his eyebrows. “And you didn’t think to stop her?!” Zoe shifted her weight, unnerved by the tone of Mal’s voice. “She seemed pretty upset. What’s the situation?” Mal looked wearily at his second in command. “Zoe, I need you and Jayne to help me move Simon into the infirmary. Keep him safe.” Jayne scrunched his eyes the only way that he knew how. “What about the girl?” A strong glare filled Mal’s eyes. “This ain’t a debate Jayne. River will be fine if she’s locked herself in, which I believe she has. Go fetch the stretcher.” Without hesitation, Jayne left the room. There were times that Mal scared him; when no smart ass comment could defy his authority and this was one of them. Zoe’s face tightened. She could feel the anxiety building inside her captain. It was stronger than usual, at this moment in time. Zoe had seen the worst of Mal during the war, although, he was clearly different. Something had changed. He had changed. She tilted her head slightly, struggling to get the words out. “Sir?” The next words barely reached Zoe’s lips, as Mal turned away. His face was wrought with stress. He was a hair’s breadth from falling apart. “Sir?” Zoe called, growing concerned. Mal drew a weary hand across his face. The room screamed with an unbearable silence. He gave Zoe a sideways glance, remaining silent. The cracks were beginning to show. Mal breathed deeply, controlling his temper. “Zoe, I need you to provide some cover fire, just until we reach the infirmary. Don’t know how many more of them are out there, and I ain’t keen on finding out. Think you can do that?” he spat. Zoe reloaded her sawn off shotgun, letting the empty cartridge fall onto the floor. She carefully replaced the bullets and snapped the chamber shut. “Of course.” A flicker of relief swept over Mal’s face. It was a sure blessing to have Zoe at his side, when his own mind was close to gone right now. Her dark eyes met Mal’s. “Sir?” she asked. “Do you think that we’ll pull through this?” Mal spun around, drawing a hand through his sweaty hair. He consciously refused to answer that question. The last couple of days had stretched him beyond his limit. It was a surprise that it wasn’t him on the floor. He certainly deserved it. They hadn’t picked up a decent job in a while, and based on their last encounter with Badger, it was a miracle that he wanted to give them anything. Mal smiled to himself. Miracles didn’t belong in this ‘verse. They were hermetically sealed in some Alliance vault; forever removed from the hearts of civilisation. All that remained was the pain of existence. The doc’s lifeless body was proof of that. His weary eyes lingered towards the doorway, watching as Jayne came back through the other side. “At least we now have some luck on our side,” Zoe remarked. Mal nodded. At least something was now going right. It was a small recompense for their troubles, of which there was no shortage. Carefully, Mal and Jayne eased Simon onto the stretcher. Zoe looked closely at Simon’s face. There was no sign of life, and that concerned her. Simon had experienced the reality of their criminal lifestyle, yet he was no fighter. His priorities lay with the welfare of his sister and the crew. He had treated bullet wounds and even his own injuries, of which there had been a pretty number. They lived a dangerous life. Zoe had no disillusions of that. Simon had been lucky. Even little Kaylee had come close to death once, although Simon was always at hand to fix up her wounds. Now, there was no one to keep him safe, to fix him. She never imagined that this day would ever arrive. With relative ease, Mal and Jayne carried Simon into the common area. The Reavers certainly had their fun. Fresh blood smeared the walls, furniture lay smashed across the floor. It looked like a scene from a kung fu movie. Eventually, they arrived at the infirmary. Jayne let out a grunt as he lowered Simon’s body onto the floor. “Gorramit this boy’s heavy, wouldn’t think it just lookin’ at him.” “Is he alive?” Zoe inquired. Mal checked Simon’s pupils, just to be certain. ”He’s out cold, that’s for sure.” he announced. “What now?” Zoe asked. Mal shook his head. “Not sure. He ain’t got a scratch on him, ‘cept for the face. Whatever injuries he may have, they look to be internal. The best we can do is wait until he wakes up.” Zoe’s face dropped. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Sir, there has to be something that we can do.” “I ain’t a doctor, Zoe.” Mal stressed. “We sure as hell can’t walk into the nearest hospital. Not while the Alliance have him marked a fugitive. He stays here. We treat whatever wounds he may have and wait until he finally wakes up. It’s the best that we can do for now.” Zoe placed a hand onto the back of her neck. Despite the captain’s stubborn streak, he was right. They couldn’t flag down the nearest Alliance cruiser and request medical aid. Simon was certainly no man of God either; unlike Derrial Book, that could warrant Alliance med support. Jayne crinkled his nose as a thought formed in his brain. “What about Mr Universe?” he inquired. Mal chuckled. “Right! We can leave Simon with Mr Universe, and his fine array of computer screens. I’m sure he’ll be a picture of health in no time.” Zoe looked back at her captain. “Isn’t there anything that he could do? Block Alliance transmissions and get him into a hospital? I mean, we’re running out of options, and fast. We just can’t watch him die.” “No.” Mal said sternly. “It’s too risky. I won’t jeopardize any more of my crew. Not now. Not while we’re barely flyin’.” Zoe approached the side of the table. “Do you think that he’ll pull through?” she pressed. There was that question again, Mal thought. He struggled to understand Zoe’s persistence. Did it really matter? “Can’t say.” he finally muttered. “Well I ain’t sticking around.” Jayne grumbled. “There ain’t much we can do with the Doc just lying there.” Mal nodded. “Jayne’s right. There ain’t anything else we can do for now. I need to inform the rest of the crew, and let them know we’re in the clear.” Mal exited the infirmary and headed towards the cargo bay. As he turned the corner, Zoe could sense indecision from her Captain. It was a sight that she rarely witnessed, at least not since the closing moments of the battle of Serenity. Whatever thoughts were running through his mind, they were breaking through to the surface. Zoe quickly followed from behind, with a concerned look on her face. “Sir? Could I have a moment?” “What is it Zoe?” Mal said wearily. Zoe swallowed nervously. The ability to form a sentence had become more problematic than she imagined. “What do we do now?” she finally said. A weary expression covered Mal’s face. His response was somewhat quicker than his first mate imagined. “We stay on schedule. Badger has a job for us, I plan on taking it.” he declared. “Work’s been scarce lately. We can’t afford to pick and choose.” Zoe frowned. It wasn’t the response that she was looking for. It was hardly the best course of action, considering the amount of damage they had endured. “Sir?” Mal raised a hand, silencing the warrior woman. He had used up his quota of patience for the next month. “I know what you’re going to say Zoe." he interrupted. “But life don’t stop ‘cause the Doc takes a brain nap. Shepherd Book can take care of him. Besides, we need the coin. The ship can’t run without it. ” “I don’t think it’s the best course of action, considering our situation.” Zoe said nervously. “Our situation?” Mal echoed. The veins on the side of his neck began to twitch. “Zoe, the gorram Reavers nearly tore my ship apart. They would’ve had their way if we didn’t make a stand. We’re lucky to be alive. What else should we be doing?” Zoe inhaled deeply. The intensity of the gun battle still coursed through her veins. She stood quietly, staring at one of the cabinets on the far away wall. An awkward silence filled the room, and Zoe realised that there was no real answer to that question.

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