Disclaimer thingy: Firefly/Serenity are owned by other folks and not by me, though I appreciate being able to write some stuff purely for fun inspired by the Firefly 'Verse. All constructive comments and feedback from you shiny readers out there much appreciated!

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In the silence following Mal’s exit from the infirmary, Simon took a careful breath, then turned back to his patient. “Okay…” He glanced at Zoë, who had moved back to lean against the empty bed opposite, then down at Leon. He saw that the youth’s face was set. As he watched, Leon’s eyes moved from the doorway where Mal had just gone and lifted up to look at the young doctor. Leon’s mouth twitched; then he spoke. “Not going to give you any trouble.” He was holding himself rigidly still under the straps. “Just…trying to get out of there. Only chance I had.” “Yes.” Simon gently secured the dressing on his head in place. “Just bad timing for us.” He looked down the youth’s body. “And speaking of timing… You said that you’d destroyed your securichip. By smashing it with a… powertool. Where was it?” “My arm.” Leon’s eyes tracked sideways to his left upper arm. “It was in my arm.” “I need to take a look at it.” Simon spoke carefully. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but those chips have an inbuilt mechanism when they’re damaged. They release toxins into the bloodstream which could be affecting you.” “I know.” Leon shut his eyes. “They told me when they put it in.” “I’ll have a look.” Simon glanced at the restraining straps across Leon’s wrists and chest, then across at Zoë. “I need to take these off. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.” He laid a hand on Leon’s shoulder. “Are you?” Leon opened his eyes. “No.” Zoë straightened up and walked over to the bed, looking Leon up and down. “I’ll just stand right here, then.” Her voice was neutral. “Okay.” Simon unfastened the restraints, then began to cut away the sleeve of Leon’s jacket. As the makeshift cloth bandage stiff with dried blood was revealed, Simon’s eyes narrowed. He took in the darkened, swollen flesh around the rag; reached for the pulse in the wrist and felt it racing under his fingers. “I’m going to have to take this off to have a closer look.” He began to gingerly cut at the stiffened, filthy cloth. “This might hurt a little; but I’ll be as gentle as I can.” Leon held still under the doctor’s fingers, not making a sound. When the cloth stuck to his arm as it was eased free, Simon heard the youth’s breath catch hard. He looked at Leon’s face and the young prisoner’s lips were pressed together, sweat standing out on his skin. Carefully Simon freed the wound and inspected it closely. What a mess. Whatever he used it wasn’t a precision job. He glanced up and saw his own feelings reflected in Zoë’s eyes. Making his voice light, he said aloud, “Well, it certainly looks like you put that chip out of commission.” “Good…” Leon had his gaze turned away. “Felt it break.” “Mm.” Simon sat back. “It’s broken, all right. And no longer transmitting. But it will have shattered into several fragments in your arm… And released its toxins. You’re probably starting to feel the effects already.” “Yeah…” Leon swallowed. “Feel kind of… feverish.” “Yes. That’s the way it starts.” Simon paused. How much does he really need to know, about how bad this is going to get? “So you broke the chip right after the accident back on the security facility? Three days ago?” “Yeah. Straight away.” “So the broken chip’s been releasing toxins into your bloodstream for the past three days. That’s why you’re not feeling so good. But it’ll continue to do so, until those fragments break down completely. So I need to get them out.” Leon’s eyes focussed on Simon. “I need to operate on your arm and take out all the pieces of the chip that’re in there. Then you’ll start to feel better.” If you’re lucky. “…Operate?” Leon spoke unsteadily. “Just on your arm, to clean it up. It’ll be pretty straightforward.” If I can find all the fragments you’ve smashed it into. “If I don’t do anything, soon you’re going to start feeling worse, Leon. A lot worse.” There was a moment’s quiet, then Leon spoke. “Okay…” He set his jaw. “Do it.” “Right.” Simon nodded, laying his hand gently on the youth’s shoulder for a moment. The skin burned under his touch. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Zoë, can you give me a hand here a second?” He signalled her with his eyes: she got the message and moved over to the side of the med bay, behind Leon’s line of view. Simon dropped his voice. “I’m going to need your help. It’s not going to be easy finding all the fragments in the mess he’s made of his arm. Two pairs of hands and eyes will speed things up.” “I’m not exactly experienced in this procedure, doc.” Zoë’s spoke equally low. “I’ll help, but you’re gonna have to tell me what to do.” “No problem. It’s simple enough; it’ll just take time. And we need time on our side.” Simon glanced back at Leon on the bed. “I handled some cases like this when I was doing my internship in ER. We’d get an ex-con maybe every three months or so. They’d break the terms of their parole and abscond, thinking they could deactivate their securichips and lay low. Of course we didn’t get to see them until they were pretty far gone, because they had to be desperate before they came for help. We’d do the best we could; remove any toxins that were left, give them the antitox drugs. But quite a few of them didn’t make it.” His face was sober. “But this kid isn’t that bad?” Zoë’s tone was questioning. “Not yet. But three days is too long to go without treatment. The toxin travels in the bloodstream. First you get general symptoms: fever, pain around the wound site, swelling. Then it starts to attack the major organs: liver, kidneys, heart.” He began to take drugs and sterile surgical tools from a locker. “I need to get a shot of antitox into him right away, and get those fragments out. That’ll help. But it depends how much he’s already got circulating in his system.” He shook his head. “My guess is, he’ll get worse before he gets better. I just don’t know how much worse.” Lying on the bed Leon heard the young doctor and the tall black woman called Zoë murmuring together. He wondered hazily what they were talking about: a faint dread of what was about to happen was pulling his empty stomach into a tightening knot. He remembered sitting in an infirmary like this one, over a year ago, when the prison doctor had put the securichip into his arm. And now another doctor’s going to take what’s left of it out. Leon shifted his arm slightly and a throb of pain stabbed up into his armpit, sending a wave of sweat out onto his skin. He shut his eyes and held still until the pain receded, breathing shallowly through barely open lips. Wuh de mah. If he can make the pain go away he can do what he likes. Make it go away and get me back to feeling okay, then two days from now I’m walking free. Getting off this ship and away from that captain and his threats, then I’ll disappear just like that hwoon dahn wants me to do. I’ll be out and clear and I can keep my promise to you, Jake. Take off into the ‘Verse and keep going, just like you said. Go out there and be free. He shut his eyes: he could see Jake, close beside him. The two of them in the cell back on Beylix, speaking for the last time. Jake’s voice, forceful and low. - Remember you made me a promise: to survive. To keep on going. To live your life. You keep that promise, Leon, whatever happens. A touch on his shoulder made him open his eyes: the young doctor was looking down at him, holding a hypo. “Leon? I’m going to give you some shots. One is an antitox, it’ll start to counteract the effects of the chip toxins in your body. The second is a sedative: it will make you feel relaxed and sleepy, but it won’t actually knock you out. You might find you want to sleep, though; if you do, that’s fine.” He checked the hypo. “When you’re relaxed, then I’m going to put a local anaesthetic into your arm, so you can’t feel anything while I’m working on it.” He leaned down, then paused with the hypo held a little way away from Leon’s uninjured arm. “Okay?” His voice was quiet, reassuring. Leon took a breath, then nodded. Simon gave a small smile, then placed the hypo against Leon’s skin. He pushed the drug home, then took the hypo away; picked up the second. His movements were gentle but precise, his eyes focussed clearly on the job in hand. As he waited for the second shot to take effect, he watched Leon carefully in silence. Leon felt a soft warmth blossoming up inside him, an unescapable tiredness taking all sensation away. His eyes were still open and he could see the doctor and Zoë moving around him: saw the third and last hypo set against his injured arm. There was pain but it was some distance away and began to fade immediately. His head was buzzing and he could feel sweat sliding down the sides of his face and neck, hear his own breathing echoing in his ears. A cool hand gently settled on the side of his face; turned his head to one side, away from his injured arm. There didn’t seem to be any reason to keep his eyes open any more. He shut them and let himself fall down into the echoing, warm darkness. “There he goes.” Simon spoke quietly. “I thought that sedative would probably be enough to take him under. He’s in pretty bad shape.” “That why you’re using a local?” Zoë asked. “Yes. He’s got enough problems without his system having to recover from a general anaesthetic.” Simon leant over the injured arm, pulling an angled light in closer. “Tyen-ah, what a mess. This is going to take a while.” He glanced at the unconscious Leon, then at Zoë, poising his scalpel. “You okay with this?” “Fine, doc. The sight of blood don’t bother me. Long as it’s not mine.” Simon smiled, acknowledging her humour, then got to work. Simon’s prediction was accurate. The two stayed bent over the bed for over an hour whilst Simon painstakingly located each tiny fragment of the splintered microchip and dropped it into a tray. After his initial search he brought over a fluorescing lamp which revealed a number of overlooked minute pieces which still had to be extracted. Then the wound had to be carefully irrigated and a final thorough search for debris was made. At last Simon set his forceps aside and began to repair and close the torn muscle layers in the wound. He finished by sealing the arm with a dermal mender and sat back with a long sigh. “All right. That’s the best I can do.” He looked pensive. “I’ll bet there’s still fragments in there, dust particulates… But there’s no way to get those out. The antitox will just have to deal with them.” Zoë looked closely at Leon’s arm, then stepped back. “Well, looks like you did a good job to me, doc. And that’ll heal pretty quick, won’t it?” Simon shrugged. “There’s quite a bit of muscle damage… And the chip toxin will slow down the normal healing process. He’s not going to be playing volleyball with that arm for a while. But that’s not what I’m worried about. The trouble with a procedure like this is that although I’ve taken all the fragments I could locate out, I’ve disturbed the wound area. That disturbance will have carried more toxin into his system.” He looked at Leon’s face soberly, then checked the monitor at the bed head. “His temperature’s risen. He’s in for a rough time, over the next few hours.” There was a tapping behind them. Both looked around, to see Kaylee standing behind the infirmary window. She raised a hand, then pointed at the door. Zoë crossed the room and unlocked it, and Kaylee stepped inside. “Hey. Thought I’d come see how you were gettin’ on.” She walked up to the bed and looked down at the unconscious Leon, then at the tray of used surgical instruments Simon had moved to one side. “Gee… You been operatin’ on him? What’s goin’ on?” “I had to take out the remains of the securichip from his arm,” answered Simon, washing his hands. “It was releasing toxins into his bloodstream, poisoning him.” Kaylee looked up at him, her eyes concerned. “Poisoning him? Is he gonna be all right?” “Hopefully he should recover.” Simon paused, then added, “If he’s got luck on his side. But he’s going to be pretty sick for a day or two.” “Oh.” Kaylee was quiet for a moment. Simon looked at Zoë. “In the meantime, I think we should get him out of these clothes. Get him cleaned up. It might bring his fever down, and it’ll be better for him than lying here sweating in all this grime.” He glanced up at Kaylee. “Can you give us a hand too?” “Uh – of course. Sure.” Kaylee moved forward hesitantly. “What’ll I do?” “Just help Zoë and me strip him off, once I’ve cut through this uniform.” Simon took up a pair of scissors and began to cut the dark cloth away. He had already slit one sleeve and now cut the other lengthways; unfastened the closures down the front and pulled the jacket open. Then he stopped, arrested by what he saw on Leon’s chest. Behind him the two women noticed his reaction. “What is it?” asked Kaylee. “My god…” Simon stepped back, laying down the scissors. As he moved, Kaylee and Zoë got sight of what he’d been looking at: the ugly pattern of scars and red welts that marked Leon’s body. Kaylee caught her breath and Zoë’s head lifted, her mouth tightening. At last Simon broke the silence. “Well.” He spoke hoarsely. “I think I understand now why he was so keen to get out of prison.” “God…” Kaylee swallowed. “He looks like… What made those, those...” She didn’t go on. “Burns. From shock batons.” Simon spoke slowly. “And burn scars. Some of them months old. Some fresh.” His mouth tightened. “Done where it wouldn’t show.” Zoë spoke and they both turned to look at her. She nodded her head at the unconscious youth. “By an expert. Someone who knew what he was doing.” She looked at Simon. “And I’ll bet if we turn him over his back’ll be the same.” Simon turned back to the bed. “I’ll take a look. Help me lift him up.” The three crew members worked together to raise Leon’s shoulders up from the bed, and Simon quickly stripped the remains of the uniform jacket away and turned Leon carefully onto his uninjured side. His back met their eyes and showed the same brutal story. Simon rested a hand carefully on the scarred skin. “Those prison guards...” His fingers gently traced an ugly scar low down on one side, darker than the rest. “And this… I’d swear this looks like he was stabbed, probably several months ago. From the location of it…” His brows drew down. “I’d say he was lucky if he didn’t lose his right kidney.” He drew back. “Lie him down.” Zoë and Kaylee did so, then drew back. Simon shook his head, frowning. “That’s a serious complication - I need to run a scan on him, right away. If he’s only got one kidney… That’s going to make his recovery from the chip toxin harder.” “Why?” asked Kaylee. “The kidneys are part of the body’s system for filtering and eliminating toxins from the body. If he’s functioning on only one, it’s going to make his chances of recovery half as good.” Simon moved to the medical supply lockers. “I need to get some IV fluids into him right away. His best chance is to try and flush this poison out of his system.” He looked at them. “Can you make a start on cleaning him up, while I get that set up?” They both nodded. “Okay. Let’s get started.” It took some time to get the unconscious Leon stripped and more or less clean. Before Zoë and Kaylee had finished Simon had set up the IV line; he helped them to settle the youth under a coverlet. He checked the monitor readings as they stepped back. “His temperature’s gone up. That’s not good.” “Can’t you give him another shot of antitox?” asked Zoë. Simon shook his head. “I gave him the maximum dose. It won’t be safe to give him another for four hours. I give him too much, it’ll overwhelm his immune system and he’d go into shock. Then it’d be all over for him.” The three of them stood for a long moment, looking down on the unconscious youth. His skin now clean from grime, his pallor showed more clearly. Simon had treated the fresh burns on his body, but where Leon’s chest rose from the cover the dark marks of his injuries showed up starkly against his pale skin. Out of the prison uniform and sunk in feverish unconsciousness, he looked younger than ever. Kaylee spoke for all of them. “Just makes you wonder… How he ended up in there. What’d he do. He ain’t much older than River, but they’ve hurt him so bad…” Her voice trailed away. Simon took a deep breath, then let it go. “Who knows.” “We done here, doc?” asked Zoë quietly. Simon nodded. “That’s all I can do, for now. It’s just a waiting game.” He glanced out of the doorway, to the seating area beyond. “I’ll stay down here and keep an eye on him, see when he wakes up.” He gave her a small smile. “Thanks for your help.” “No problem. I’ll head back up to the bridge, fill the captain in on what’s happening.” Zoë headed out of the infirmary. She climbed the stairs back to the upper deck and walked to the cockpit. When she entered the bridge Mal was sitting at the helm, one elbow resting on the console, chin in hand, eyes gazing out at the stars. At her footfall he looked around, then sat back, half-turning his chair. “You been long enough. He cause any problems for the doc?” “No. Just took a while to tend to. Doc had to take that chip in his arm out.” Zoë sat down in the co-pilot’s chair. “Somethin’ of a delicate job.” “Hhm.” Mal faced front again. “So he didn’t give you any trouble.” “Wasn’t in any kind of condition to make trouble, sir.” Zoë spoke precisely; Mal looked back across the cockpit at her. “He’s in pretty bad shape. Doc says the toxins from that chip are going to make him bad feverish for a while; a couple of days or so. Maybe even worse than that.” “A couple of days?” Mal frowned. “Goddamn… That’s all I need. He better be fit to travel when we hit Beaumonde, ‘cos I ain’t plannin’ on takin’ him any further.” “You know, it wasn’t just the securichip.” Zoë didn’t respond to Mal’s comment. “He was in pretty bad shape all over. Burned.” She held Mal’s gaze. “Remember that shock baton Pakenham had his guard show us at dinner? Reckon that boy down there had them used on him. Over and over.” “So he’s trouble.” Mal spoke shortly. “There’ll be a reason they put him in a high security prison. Maybe that was the only way they could keep him under control.” “The doc said some of those burns were so deep, they’d have had to have kept the baton on him for over a minute. Pinned him down and held it there until the flesh under the skin began to char.” Zoë still held his eyes with her own. “That sound like control to you, sir? Sounds to me like torture.” Mal said nothing. He could see her thoughts clearly in her eyes. His own were not quiet. Torture. The burn of an electric shock, the current searing into you, sending fire through your muscles as you cried out and convulsed and hung in its agony, until the current stopped and you lay spent and shuddering and praying not to feel it again. And even as you prayed, knowing that it would come again, that the person doing it to you was going to switch the fire back on, burn you with it on and on… and there was nothing you could do to escape. It hadn’t been so long ago he’d felt that fire himself. He and Wash together, hung up in Niska’s skyplex, tortured until Wash had almost slid away and Mal had only just been able to keep him hanging on. Then afterwards, when Zoë had taken Wash away but had had to leave Mal behind, he had stood shackled in that room and forced himself to hold every good thing he’d ever known as a shield between himself and the pain they made him feel. He’d let go of any hope of surviving, of any respite except death. And when even that hadn’t been a refuge, when he’d come round after Niska’s man had jump-started his heart, brought him back to see Niska’s evil smile leering over him, he’d almost broken. There was no escape. So he’d gone to a place inside himself… Gone so far he almost hadn’t come back. “He’d been stabbed. In prison.” Zoë’s voice cut through Mal’s dark memories. “In the back. Cut so bad the doc says he was lucky he made it through.” “All that tells me is, he plays with knives too.” Mal wasn’t going to give up any ground. “Sounds like a real pretty piece of work. Makes me even less happy about havin’ him on board, but then he ain’t gonna be around long enough to get an opportunity of demonstrating any new skills he might have picked up in prison.” Zoë said nothing more. She looked out of the cockpit screen, her face still. Mal felt a pang of frustration. Ai ya, maybe I should just quit talking altogether. “He stowed away on board this ship, he ain’t a payin' guest. All we know is, he just broke out of a high security prison. I ain’t gonna lose any sleep over the tribulations of some little shiong-mung duh kwong-run when in all likelihood there’s someone somewhere he did worse to, which is why they put him in there.” He watched her turned-away face. “Damn it, what do you expect me to say?” His frustration broke through in his voice. “I ain’t takin’ any more risks with this ship, if I can help it. Or this crew.” “Ain’t arguin’, sir.” Zoë’s voice was quiet. She turned her steady gaze back on him. “Just fillin’ you in on the details. Thought you’d want to know.” They were both silent for a long minute. Then Mal let out a short breath. “Okay.” He turned away to look at the controls. “Thanks for the update.” Zoë got up from the co-pilot’s chair. “I’m going to get some sleep.” Mal nodded. Zoë walked across the cockpit, but paused in the doorway. “Sir?” Mal looked around. “Maybe he is trouble. But no-one deserves to be punished that way. And as for where he came from…” She shrugged. “Not so many years since we came out from a place like that our own selves.” She let her words fall into the quiet between them. “Some folks believe that only the guilty suffer; and that all those who suffer are guilty. But we know different. We learned that the hard way.” Her eyes rested on his for a moment longer. Then she was gone. Mal looked at the empty doorway. He breathed in deep, weighing her words inside him. Her voice hadn’t been angry. But every word had hit home. We know different. Tyen ah. We surely do. It had been a rebuke that only she could make to him. From their shared history, from the depths of their mutual knowledge, only she could show him how far he was walking from where he once stood. Part of him didn’t like that anyone could know him that well. But another part of him, somewhere deep down, was suddenly touched with hope. Because she had spoken her rebuke aloud to him. Not kept silent. Inara’s words of the night before came back to him. - Friends don’t keep silent; they talk, even when talking is the hardest thing to do. A true friendship can survive pain, can survive anger, can survive quarrels. What it can’t survive is silence. Mal slowly turned back to face the stars. His hands rested beside the controls, but there was no need to touch them. Serenity’s course was set. Okay. Steady as she goes.

* * * * *

Kaylee stirred in the warmth of the bed, disturbed from dreamless sleep. For a moment she lay still, unsure of what had woken her. Then the bed sank slightly and the covers moved: she felt Simon gently slipping in beside her. He was trying to move as softly as he could, so as not to wake her. Kaylee smiled into the darkness, then turned over onto her other side, facing him. “Hey.” Her whisper made him pause; then he let out a sigh and relaxed onto his back. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.” “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry.” She lifted her arm and reached out, resting her hand on his chest. “I still ain’t used to havin’ a man in my bed, after sleeping alone for so long. But I don’t mind wakin’ up to you.” She heard him let out a half-laugh, half-breath; his own hand took hold of hers and raised to his lips to kiss it, then laid it back down on his chest. “What time’s it?” “Very late.” He stroked her hand. “Or very early, depending on your point of view.” “Uhmm…” She let out a sighing yawn. “You been sitting up keeping an eye on that boy?” “Yes. For all the good I’m doing.” “He not getting better?” “He’s not even holding his own.” Simon sounded gloomy. “I gave him another shot of antitox a while back… But his fever’s slowly climbing higher and higher. With only having one kidney, and just being in bad shape from being in that prison, he doesn’t have many resources to fight this off.” “But he’ll get better.” Kaylee said it half as a question. For a moment Simon made no answer and she tightened her grip on his hand. He squeezed it back. “Maybe. If he’s got luck on his side.” He sounded tired and discouraged. “Well…” Kaylee tried to sound upbeat. “He must be some kinda lucky, or he wouldn’t have made it onto Serenity.” “That’s an interesting definition of lucky.” Simon’s tone was dry. Kaylee lay still for a moment, then she raised herself up on one elbow, letting go of his hand. She could barely see him in the dark, but she stared down towards where his face was dimly visible. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Well, being on this ship isn’t exactly a cruise to the Core worlds.” “So?” Anger flowered in her voice. “That where you’d rather be? Eatin’ in fine restaurants on Londinium, or hangin’ out at Bellerophon cocktail parties? Workin’ in that fancy hospital on Ariel? Or maybe you’d like to go visit your folks back on Osiris?” “I didn’t say that.” Simon’s voice took on an edge of anger in reply. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” “But you meant it. Serenity ain’t good enough for you. That’s what you’ve always meant.” “No. It’s just that this ship, this life… it’s not how I thought I’d be living. Sometimes I feel that. Can’t you understand?” “I understand all right.” Kaylee sat up in bed, moving away from him. “This ain’t the way you want to live. You don’t want to be here. Maybe you don’t want to be with me, too.” “No! That’s not what I mean.” Simon sat up too, reaching for the light switch. As the dim bedside light flickered on he turned to look at Kaylee. She was leaning against the wall, her face half-turned away. Her mouth was set in a straight and angry line; but her eyes shone with unshed wetness. Simon took her hand, which lay motionless in his. “Kaylee.” He spoke softly. “I want to be with you. If I know anything, I know that.” She kept her face turned aside, mouth still stubbornly set. He sighed. “I love you.” The words fell quietly into the dimness of the room. “You should know that. I thought you did know that. I wouldn’t leave Serenity, if it meant leaving you.” “I love you too.” A single line of light ran down her cheek as a tear broke and fell. “But Serenity’s my home. She’s looked after me, and I’ve looked after her. We ain’t never let each other down. Not many folks I could say that about.” “I know.” Simon continued to hold her hand. “But it ain’t just that.” Kaylee took a deep breath, then let it out in a shaking sigh. “It ain’t just Serenity. It’s everyone who lives on her. ‘Nara. Zoë. The cap’n. River. Even Jayne.” She gave a brief half-smile. “They’re… family. All the family I got, now. And truth to tell, they’re more of a family than my own ever was.” She turned her head and looked directly at Simon. “The way you feel about River… The way you care for her and protect her… Why do you do that?” The question made Simon pause; then he answered quietly: “She’s my sister. I’ve always cared for and protected her.” “Because you love her,” said Kaylee. “Yes.” “Why?” This time Simon frowned. “Why do I love her?” He stared at Kaylee. “Because… she’s my sister. Because…” He paused, seeing Kaylee’s searching expression. This is important. Think about what you say next. He shut his eyes, looking for the right words. “Because even when we were children, I knew she was someone special. We were always close, even though she was smarter than me. I saw her intelligence, her creativity, her honesty, her grace… And I felt privileged to be her brother. To be someone so important in her life, with a chance to share in her discoveries, her achievements, her tragedies, her laughter. And to receive what she gave back in return: unconditional love.” He paused. “Even… Even with everything I’ve had to do to her after I got her out of the academy… The drugs I’ve tried on her, the side effects she’s had to endure… She’s never stopped loving me. Never lost faith in me. And on Miranda she saved my life. All our lives.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Kaylee. “River is a part of me. That’s the only way I can explain it.” “I know.” Kaylee nodded. “And I understand. It’s something of why I love you, Simon. Seeing how you care for her, how you look out for her.” She held his gaze with her own. “And Serenity and the folks who live on her are part of me. I don’t how that come about, but it did. Jayne, makin’ me laugh; he tries so hard to act like he don’t have a good side but it’s there under all that armoury he carries. Zoë, she’s so strong I never feel afraid of what might come along; she stands steady no matter what the ‘Verse throws at us. Inara’s everythin’ I couldn’t ever be: she’s beautiful and smart and proud, yet she acts like I’m the one she looks up to. River… she’s scared me half to death and made me laugh till I’m sick; she’s one of a kind. And the captain…” She paused. “Mal took one hell of a risk when he gave me the job of Serenity’s engineer and fired Bester. But he believed in me. And he ain’t never stopped. Sometimes he yells at me, sometimes he gets angry, but underneath I know he cares. However much he acts tough, like he don’t have that side to him, it still shows out now’n again. Ain’t ever much, y’know? Maybe he’ll put a hand on my shoulder when I’ve finished making Serenity run pretty again; or he’ll say Good Job and then smile and his eyes lighten up and you can see what he must have been like before the war.” Simon’s fingers were gently stroking her hand, his eyes staying on her face as he let her talk. “I never did have an older brother, like River has you. But since I been on Serenity, it feels like I got one. A brother; a whole family. And you.” “I was wondering where I fitted in.” Simon spoke softly, smiling to show her it was a joke. “I come to you last, but that ain’t where you fit.” Kaylee lifted his hand to her face and held it there for a long moment; then she moved it down to hold it against her breast, over her heart. “You fit right there.” They were both silent for several minutes, sitting leaning against each other, hands clasped. At last Simon spoke. “I know what this ship and the people who live in it mean to you. They mean a lot to me, too. And to River.” He stopped, then went on. “If I say something about Serenity and this way of life that - sounds harsh - it’s not you I’m angry with. It’s not you I want to leave. It’s just… I’m a doctor, Kaylee. My vocation is to heal people. I never thought I’d be hitch-hiking through the border systems robbing banks.” “Mal gets us honest work whenever he can.” “I know. I didn’t mean that as a criticism of Mal. After all, River and me are two of the reasons he can’t always operate on the right side of the law.” “And it ain’t like you don’t get to do doctorin’.” “Yes.” Simon sighed. “There’s certainly been no shortage of emergencies for me to deal with. It’s just… working in a ship’s med bay means I can’t always work as well as I need to. I can’t always heal the people who need my help. Like that boy in the infirmary. Like Wash.” There was a silence. At last Kaylee spoke, her voice choked. “Couldn’t no-one have helped Wash. Or Shepherd Book.” “Maybe not.” Simon’s voice was also uneven. “Doesn’t stop me from wishing with all my heart that I could have tried.” He let out a long breath. “It’s hard, Kaylee. My life should be about healing, about saving lives. It’s hard for me not to be able to do that. It’s hard for me to be so close to violence. I’m a doctor. Every instinct I have cries out against it.” Kaylee made no reply, but her hand tightened on his. They were silent for long minutes. At last Simon let out a deep sigh. “Well…” He let his head tilt sideways until it was resting gently against hers. “Maybe we should get some sleep.” “Things’ll look better in the morning. They most always do.” Kaylee tried a small smile, her eyes resting on Simon’s face. He looked at her, smiling wryly back. “We’re in space. It’s always night-time out here.” He slid down in the bed, reaching out to switch off the light. “No it ain’t.” Kaylee moved closer to lay her head on his shoulder as the room went dark, feeling his arm curl around her. “But if it was, that’d be shiny. Wouldn’t have to get up and do any work… We could stay in bed all the time.” She laughed in the darkness and reached a hand out to touch Simon’s face. Under her searching fingertips she felt him smile.