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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When Mal and Zoë arrived back at the ship, they found Kaylee sitting outside in the smoggy sunshine on a folding chair, watching the life of the docks walk by. She smiled up at them as they stopped by the entrance ramp. “Hey! How’d it go? We got a job?” “We got a job.” Mal smiled back at his engineer’s enthusiasm. “And…” He dug out the pouch of money and tossed it across to her. “We got enough cashy money for you to go get us fuelled up.” “Shiny!” Kaylee stashed the pouch carefully and picked up her chair, folding it shut. “I’ll go get that sorted right away.” “Take Jayne with you,” instructed Mal. Kaylee pulled a face. “Okay.” Mal and Zoë headed into Serenity, followed by Kaylee who quickly disappeared to dump her chair and fetch Jayne and the depleted fuel cells she would be exchanging. Mal and Zoë walked up the cargo bay stairs after her. As they moved along the fore passage Mal said, “You want to take a break? It’s pretty near my shift.” “Okay, sir.” Zoë stopped outside the door to her cabin, leaving him to walk on to the bridge alone. It took little time for Kaylee and Jayne to make the journey to a refueling yard on the mule, and even less time for Kaylee to fit the new fuel cells after they’d returned. Take-off clearance came through and Mal lifted Serenity up through the atmosphere and out into space, setting a preliminary course for Athens. He was checking vectors and starting to calculate a route that gave a compromise between distance and traffic, when the co-pilot’s chair beside him creaked. He turned his head to see River smiling at him. “Hey, little albatross,” he said comfortably, looking back at the charts on the console display. “How’s it going?” “Good.” River drew up her knees and touched the console before her, bringing up the same charts that Mal was looking at. “We’re going to Athens?” “Uh huh.” Mal answered absently, before registering the comment. He looked at her again, his brows drawing down slightly. “Hey. You want to knock before entering my head?” “It doesn’t work like that,” said River, turning her head slowly onto one side. “You’re the ones who don’t stop broadcasting. I just pick up the programmes.” “Well, tune your antenna in another direction.” Mal held her with his gaze a moment longer, before turning back to the console. “Although as it happens, yeah: we’re going to Athens.” “I can navigate our course.” River’s fingers were already moving on the console. “So can I,” Mal answered. “Not as well as I can,” she stated calmly. Her hands danced swiftly over the controls, her eyes flicking back and forth between screens. Then she sat back. “There.” Mal checked the course data she’d entered. It took him a long minute to read through the information and figures, but it was all correct. Some stubborn part of himself insisted on double-checking, but he knew even as he did this it was a waste of time. She’s done it, and done it fine. And in about a tenth of the time it would’ve taken me. He sat back from the console. River spoke up. “See?” “Yeah, okay.” River smiled smugly and Mal tried to recover some ground. “You got a head for figures, sure enough. Nobody denying you’re gifted that way. Just, being good with numbers ain’t all it takes to keep a boat flying.” “I know.” River turned her eyes upwards to gaze out at the stars. “But it helps.” Mal opened his mouth to reply, then decided not to bother. Hell, she’s right. It does help. And we need all the help we can get, since we lost Wash. Zoë and me can pilot Serenity well enough, but Wash could make her fly like an angel. He was born to fly like most folks are born to breathe. A memory of Wash sitting grinning in the pilot’s chair turned one corner of Mal’s mouth up. What was that mystic piece of gos-se he always used to say? “I am a leaf on the wind; watch how I soar.” Whatever the hell that meant. A sudden rush of cold filled Mal as he recalled the last time Wash had said those words. Sitting right where Mal was now, in the pilot’s chair, after he’d finally managed to fight Serenity to a grinding halt in their crash-landing on Mr Universe’s moon. He’d looked at Mal and Zoë; lifted his head and given a slightly disbelieving smile of triumph. Breathing deep, he’d started to speak his mantra: - I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how - Then the Reavers’ harpoon had smashed through the cockpit screen and buried itself in Wash’s chest. And just like that, in an instant, he was gone. Mal had seen people die suddenly more times then he cared to remember. Early in the war it had hit him hard, especially when it was people he knew, soldiers in his platoon. But after the war had been raging for long months, he began to feel it less and less. It took too much energy. What with the constant traveling as battle lines shifted, the lack of sleep, the lan-dan army rations, recovering from wounds picked up along the way, it took all the strength he had just to keep going. And fighting. Someone took a blast and all you could find of them were pieces, it didn’t help any to stand and stare at them. He’d gotten good at looking away, moving on. Surviving. And that had worked enough for him to keep it together. The only time he’d ever felt it starting to get to him was when the thought nagged at him that one day it could be Zoë, killed in the sudden violent lottery of battle. He had known, at some deep-down level, that if that ever happened the Malcolm Reynolds who kept the platoon together and believed that they were going to win the war and tried to act like a human being in the face of the killing, would probably cease to exist. He’d still be walking and talking and fighting but someone else would be looking out of his eyes. And when Wash took that harpoon in the chest and Zoë threw herself at him I heard it in her voice. That fear. That the one person in the world who helps you stay real has gone. Mal looked down at his hands on the console. They were clenched into fists. And I dived at her. Knocked her sideways just before the second harpoon came through. Kept her alive. Kept her here. Where she has to wake up every morning without him. “But she wakes up every morning.” River’s voice broke into Mal’s thoughts. He turned his head sharply, brows drawing down to frown at her. Before he could say anything, River spoke again. “She thought he made her a better person. Sunshine into all her dark places. And now he’s gone it’s all shadows, and she’s afraid of the dark.” Mal stared at her. River met his gaze with her own. “There can be monsters in the dark, waiting to come out. Or just shadows. Nobody knows. Until some light comes in.” She looked away, back out into space. “I like to look at the stars. All that light, traveling through the dark. It takes so long to reach us… But it was coming towards us long before we were born.” She put her head on one side. Mal watched her for a long minute. Then he let out a long breath. “River?” “Mmm.” Her voice was distant, a faint smile on her face. “What I said, ‘bout tuning your antenna in another direction…” “Yes.” “Everyone needs their own space. ‘Specially inside their head. Dong ma?” She turned her head to look at him, and there was a trace of stubbornness in her expression. “I mean it, little albatross. I don’t pretend to understand how your… reading works. And it ain’t that it don’t come in useful sometimes. But now really ain’t the time.” “Okay.” River got up from the co-pilot’s chair. “I’m going.” She walked to the door, then paused on the threshold. “You shouldn’t worry so much.” Mal swung around in his chair, frowning at her. River shrugged. “It’s going to work out.” With that she turned and disappeared into the passageway. Mal let out a heavy breath, raising his eyebrows. Uh huh. He turned back to the console and settled down to work.

* * * * *

As Serenity cruised on towards Athens, Simon was down in the infirmary updating his records. He leaned over his databook, from time to time glancing up at the lockers and shelves in front of him, or sliding open a drawer to check on the pharmaceuticals within. At one point he stopped and let out a sigh, rubbing his chin and staring at the small screen. We’re running lower than is safe on too many things. Let’s hope this job Mal’s taken on pays well. And that I can convince him to invest in restocking the infirmary as soon as possible. He pulled a wry face at the screen: that was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to having. Serenity always seemed to run to close to the wire, and he knew that his requests for drugs and medical supplies would be way down on Mal’s shopping list. He knew too from things Kaylee had said recently that the ship was – as usual – in dire need of several engineering parts, and that these would surely take priority over his own wish-list. But we need these drugs, or next time there’s an emergency there’s a chance I won’t have what I need to deal with it. Rubbing the back of his neck, Simon flexed the stiffness from his shoulders and sighed again. And having this boy Leon to look after has used up a lot of the infirmary’s stock. Not that it’s his fault. Reminded of his patient, he turned on his stool and stood up, crossing the room to where Leon lay on the bed. He looked down at the boy’s face, and for a moment his heart skipped a beat: the youth lay still, no longer restless and feverish, his head fallen to one side. Simon caught his breath and his fingers shot out swiftly to the side of Leon’s throat. After a moment he felt the pulse beneath his fingertips; let out the breath that had frozen in his chest. Carefully he touched the youth’s forehead: the raging heat had cooled, and a little colour had come back into Leon’s face. The shallow unsteady breathing of high fever had calmed to the quiet normal breaths of sleep. Simon rested his hands on the bedside and looked down at him. He’s come through it. He’s going to make it. Relief grew inside him, warming slowly to satisfaction. It was moments like this when he was truly happy: when his doctor’s skill enabled him to save a life, to heal illness and hurt. So much of what had happened around him on Serenity, and happened still, was beyond his control… But he could still do this: be a doctor. Fulfill his vocation. It was one of the few steady points he had, in a very unsteady universe. Half an hour later he had finished his inventory in the infirmary. He checked that Leon was still sleeping and on the road to recovery, then locking the infirmary door behind him, he headed to the cabin he and Kaylee shared to wash up before supper. Kaylee was in the cabin when he got there, hurriedly changing out of her grease-spotted shirt into a cleaner one. “Hi.” Simon squeezed past her, pausing to kiss the back of her neck. He inhaled deeply, smelling spices on her skin. Kaylee laughed, letting him hold her close for a moment. “You’re tickling me.” “You smell wonderful.” He inhaled again, then teasingly ran his tongue up her neck. “Good enough to eat.” “Ai ya - ” Kaylee’s shoulders rose to her ears as she laughed again, and she turned around, her happy eyes finding his. “Me and ‘Nara been cooking is all. I smell of five-spice and sesame oil, most likely!” “You two have been cooking? That’s great.” Supper was rarely a treat on Serenity, but Simon knew that both women had talent in the kitchen. He kissed her on the lips. “Did I ever tell you that I love you, bao-bei?” “Y’may have mentioned it once ‘r twice.” Kaylee kissed him back and smiled. “You seem kind of cheerful tonight.” “My patient’s started to recover.” Kaylee looked at him. “His fever’s subsided and he’s sleeping now. I’m pretty sure he’s on the mend.” “Oh sweetie, that’s such good news!” Kaylee looked as pleased for him as he felt. She squeezed his arm. “My clever doctorin’ man. I knew you’d pull him through.” “You knew more than I did,” commented Simon as he moved to the basin to wash his face. “Nah, you had me convinced,” said Kaylee. “I saw the look you got in your eye when you was workin’ on him. You ain’t failed to pull someone through yet once you get that look.” She grinned. “Well, we can celebrate two shiny things at supper, huh? Us havin’ work and you making him well.” When supper time came, all of Serenity’s crew sat down around the table together. Kaylee had taken advantage of their brief set-down on Beaumonde to scrounge up some fresh vegetables and other ingredients, and she and Inara had indulged their shared love of good food by cooking a spicy-smelling stir-fry and a heaping bowl of fragrant steaming noodles. As they set the dishes on the table there was a general sound of appreciation from everyone else: both women had scarcely taken their seats before Jayne was reaching across the table – and Mal - for the noodles. Mal shifted back a little in his chair, regarding Jayne narrowly, then looked quizzically at Kaylee and Inara. “This looks like mighty good eating. We celebrating something?” “Well, just bein’ up and running again, and havin’ a job and all…” Kaylee was smiling broadly. “Seemed like a nice excuse, and I been wanting ‘Nara to show me how she does her stir-fry sauce for the longest time.” She grinned at the Companion, who smiled back. “They had everything we needed in that little market back on Beaumonde, so we just kinda let ourselves rip.” As an afterthought, she added quickly, “We didn’t hardly spend much on the fixin’s, though. Got us some real cheap bargains…” Her gaze met Inara’s, and for a moment she looked apprehensive. “Money well spent,” said Mal. Everyone looked across the table at him, but he just reached across Jayne and neatly lifted the bowl of noodles away. “You’re done with these, right?” Jayne seemed about to argue, but something about the smile Mal had on his face stopped him. He watched the noodles move away round the table glumly, then turned his attention to the progress of the wok of stir-fry. The food was indeed good, and for some minutes the crew ate in silence, except for appreciative comments to the cooks. After a while Kaylee rose and fetched a jug of cider to the table, handing out cups to everyone. The spiciness of the food had kindled a thirst, and the golden cider was soon poured out and being drunk. After a while Jayne scraped his empty bowl and reached for the noodles again: second helpings more or less made it round the whole table. Mal sat back in his chair and took a long comfortable swallow of cider, pushing back his bowl. “That was the best meal I’ve eaten in a long while, ladies. My compliments to the cooks.” Beside him, Jayne stretched his arms behind his head and let out a mighty belch. As everyone looked at him, he raised his eyebrows. “What?” He nodded at Kaylee and Inara. “That’s a compliment too, ain’t it? They do it after fancy banquets in some places, I heard about that. Reckon it’s good manners.” “I had no idea you were such an expert on cultural etiquette,” Inara commented dryly. Jayne cocked an eyebrow. “I know all kinda stuff. A man don’t travel cross the ‘Verse as much as I done without pickin’ up a thing or two.” “I can imagine,” said Inara. Mal sipped his cider again and looked across at the table at his smiling engineer. “How’s Serenity runnin’, Kaylee?” “Sweet and shiny, cap’n.” Kaylee nodded. “We got plenty of fuel to see us clear to Athens and back.” “Good. Job done, we can maybe take a look at some of the things on your shopping list.” “Gee, it’s like Christmas,” Kaylee grinned. Mal let a smile come on his own face and took another drink of cider. He glanced at Simon. “Any news on your patient?” “Yes; he’s started to recover.” Simon a sip from his own cup. “His fever’s right down and he’s sleeping. I expect him to wake tomorrow.” Across the table, Jayne brightened, looking up. “That mean we can leave him on Athens?” “That ain’t hardly fair!” exclaimed Kaylee. “There ain’t nothin’ there dirtside but quarries and rough folks.” “Better’n prison,” Jayne shrugged. “He handled it in there, ain’t likely the lack of manners on Athens’ll bother him none.” “He’ll still be recovering when we get there,” said Simon. “It’s likely it’ll be a few days before he’s up and about.” “Up maybe, not about unless you have a short memory.” Mal reached for the cider jug and topped up his drink. “I said he’s to stay locked up and I meant it. He ain’t a passenger, and he ain’t about to get a walking tour of Serenity.” His eyes rested on Simon for a moment. “I hadn’t forgotten,” Simon replied. “Be surprised if you had, doc.” Mal nodded. “Fact he’s pulled through makes for less complications which surely lightens my day, but I want him kept secure until we’ve done the job and gotten back to Beaumonde. Then we can wave him on his merry.” “Just ditch him there, with nothin’?” Kaylee sounded appalled. “No money, fresh outta jail and only just back on his feet?” “Figure he’ll make out,” said Mal. “Didn’t get to where he is now unless he’s some kind of smart.” “But couldn’t we help him out just a bit?” asked Kaylee. “We could give him some coin to get by on till he finds himself work- ” At Mal’s expression she swiftly changed tack. “Okay, or maybe we couldn’t do that, but we could help him some other way…” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “We could send a wave to someone he knows, so’s at least he wouldn’t be stranded. We could do that after leavin’ and scramble the source so no-one knows it was us. Couldn’t we?” “Boy’s been in prison a considerable while, ain’t likely his address book would be over-full of friends and family,” answered Mal. “Reckon if he’d got anyone to call on, he’d have told us.” “But he did!” said Kaylee. She looked at Simon. “He was talkin’ just the other day, when he was still sick - kept calling out some fella’s name.” “That could’ve just been the fever talking,” said Simon quietly. Kaylee shook her head. “Well, couldn’t we maybe try and find out? See if there’s someone out there fits the name, try sending them a wave?” She frowned for a moment. “What was it he said, now… James? Jake? Yeah, Jake. Jake… Ryder. That’s it!” She looked triumphant. “Jake Ryder, he said. Kept asking me to speak to Jake.” Across the table Mal and Zoë both lifted their heads, their eyes fixing on Kaylee. Then they exchanged looks with each other. There was a moment’s silence whilst the rest of the crew saw their reaction; then Mal’s eyes shifted back to Kaylee. “We won’t be sending no wave. That boy can manage well enough alone; he made it this far.” “But where’d be the harm in helpin’ him?” Kaylee tried to sound persuasive. “No-one’d trace a wave back to us.” “No point sending a wave to a dead man.” Mal spoke with finality. A silence fell on the table. After a moment, Kaylee said falteringly, “A dead man?” She shot a glance at Zoë, who was sitting with her eyes downcast, chin resting on her hand. “How’d you know that, cap’n?” “Alliance executed Ryder fourteen months ago, for war crimes. Broadcast it on the Cortex.” Mal’s voice was flat. “So there won’t be no wave being sent. The boy’ll disembark when we return to Beaumonde, go his way. And we’ll go ours.” He stood up, pushing his chair back from the table, clearing away his dishes. “Thanks for the meal, Inara, Kaylee. Mighty fine eating.” With that he turned away and left the room. A beat fell, then Zoë also rose to her feet. She nodded at Kaylee and Inara, then followed quietly after Mal. Jayne was the first to speak. “What in hell was that all about?” He looked around the table at the others. “You all see that? Him and Zoë?” He shook his head. “Gotta be another goddamn war story, I’ll bet…” “Seemed as though they knew this man,” said Simon thoughtfully. “Or knew his name, at least.” “Kinda weird,” grunted Jayne. “And I don’t like no mysteries. Makes me twitchy.” “Maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” said Inara. The others looked at her. “It could just be coincidence. And if it’s something we need to know, they’ll tell us.” Beside her, River propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, her eyes flickering from Inara to the others. “Yeah, right.” Jayne shook his head sourly. “Them two don’t go much for sharing campfire tales from their soldierin’ days, in case you ain’t noticed.” “Then maybe we should stop speculating about it,” replied Inara quietly. They all exchanged looks. Then Kaylee got up and fetched a dish of fruit, setting it in the centre of the table. “Um… Who’s for dessert?” Zoë caught up with Mal down by the infirmary. He stood in the dimly-lit passageway, arms folded across his chest, gazing through the infirmary window at the sleeping Leon. Zoë came to stand next to him, her eyes also moving to the boy on the bed. After a while, Mal spoke. “Hadn’t figured on hearing that name again.” “No.” There was pause. Mal let out a heavy breath. “Jake Ryder.” His eyes narrowed. “Must be a small universe.” “How’d you reckon the boy knew him?” “Damned if I know. But I aim to find out, soon as he wakes up.” He frowned. “Reckless Ryder.” Zoë spoke slowly, her voice full of memory. “He was one of a kind.” “Saved our butts on Verbena. If it hadn’t been for him raidin’ the Alliance supply lines and running the blockades to get those supplies to us, we’d never have held out as long as we did.” “Must be a few thousand Browncoats owe him, after all the runs he made.” Zoë shook her head. “We’d have gone down sooner than we did, without him.” “Yeah. And the Alliance didn’t forget that. Or forgive.” Mal’s jaw tightened. “Goddamned ta ma sha-sho…” “War crimes.” Zoë folded her own arms, her tone growing bitter. “Well, they’d know all about that.” “Ryder’s only crime was helping the losing side,” said Mal harshly. “For that he paid a heavy price.” He frowned through the glass of the infirmary window; when he spoke again his voice was weary. “And they say the war’s over. Seems like someone ain’t signed the armistice.”

* * * * *

The next morning found Simon back in the infirmary, working quietly to tidy his diminished supplies in the lockers and replenish what he could from what was still available on board. He brought in his bag and took the opportunity to go through its contents for the same purpose, making sure that his medkit had at least the minimum he thought necessary for emergency medicine in the field. A sound behind him made him look around, to see Leon shifting his head slowly on the pillow. The youth let out a sighing breath, then his eyes slowly blinked open. They stared up at the ceiling, narrowed against the light: then Leon drew in a sharp breath and began to try to push himself up, head turning to try to see what manner of place he was in. Simon crossed the room quickly, stepping into the boy’s field of view and laying a gentle hand on his good shoulder. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, just take it easy.” Leon’s eyes switched to him and after a second recognition flickered in his gaze. He relaxed heavily back against the bed, keeping his eyes on Simon. Simon smiled, taking Leon’s wrist to check his pulse. Then he nodded. “Good. Nearly back to normal. How are you feeling?” “Kind of… wiped out…” Leon’s voice was ragged and dry. Simon reached sideways to the counter and poured water into a cup, then helping Leon to sit up, carefully handed it to him. “Here. You should drink as much as you can over the next few days, flush out any toxins that are still in your system.” He watched as Leon held the cup in both hands and downed a swallow. “That’s good. But take it slowly.” Leon’s hands shook and Simon steadied the cup, taking it from him. “That’s enough for now.” Leon let his shoulders and head rest back against the raised bed-head, hands folding over his stomach. His eyes scanned across the room, his expression attentive. He looked at Simon. “Ship’s… still moving?” “Yes. We’re en route to our next job.” Simon set the cup back down on the counter. “We actually landed a day or so ago, but you were too ill to be aware of it.” “A day ago?” Leon frowned. “How long’ve I been here?” “Three days.” Simon pulled a stool over so that he could sit beside the bed. “You’re pretty lucky. If you hadn’t come out of hiding when you did, you probably wouldn’t have made it. Those securichip toxins had pretty much flooded your system. Another few hours and I couldn’t have brought you back.” “Guay…” Leon shut his eyes briefly, then looked frowning at the door. “How long before I can get up?” “Well, you really need to rest. You ran a high fever for a while, and you weren’t in the best shape to start with. And…” Simon linked his fingers together. “Your only having the one kidney didn’t help matters. What happened there?” Leon flushed, colour coming into his thin face. “Some guy in prison didn’t like me. Cut me up one day.” “You were lucky then, as well.” Simon’s tone was non-judgemental. “Scar looks like it was a bad stab wound.” “Didn’t feel so lucky at the time.” Leon looked away. “No, I don’t suppose it did.” Simon waited a moment, looking at the youth’s turned-away face. “Anyway, you’re through the worst now. Just keep drinking plenty, start eating, and you’ll soon get your strength back. You’ll be back on your feet before we get back to Beaumonde.” “Beaumonde?” Leon turned his head back to face him. “That where we’re headed now?” “No. But where we’re headed right now don’t concern you none.” Mal’s voice made them both look up. He had come into the infirmary and was standing now in the doorway. Nodding at Simon, Mal switched his gaze back to Leon. “Mornin’, doc.” “Good morning.” Simon looked from Mal to Leon, then back again. “Me and our non-paying passenger here got a few things to talk about,” said Mal with his eyes fixed on Leon, who gazed sullenly back at him. “So we’ll excuse you, doc.” “Well, he’s only just woken up - ” Simon interposed. “Won’t take long,” Mal replied. Uncertainly, Simon got up and moved towards the doorway. As he drew close to Mal he said in a quiet voice, “He’s recovering, but he isn’t better. Don’t overdo it.” “Trust me, doc.” Mal gave him a brief and humorless smile. “We’re just gonna have a little chat. Nothin’ physical.” “Right.” Simon gave Mal a doubtful look, then turned and gave Leon a reassuring smile before leaving the infirmary. Mal closed the door, before walking slowly to stand beside the bed, looking down on Leon. “Doc said you were on the mend.” He glanced at the dressing bandaged to Leon’s arm. “Looks like you got lucky.” “So people keep telling me,” returned Leon in a low voice. “You got reason to quarrel with their opinion?” Mal’s voice hardened. “You’re outta prison and on your way to walking free, boy. Doc says you could’ve died from that chip broken in your arm, but you pulled through. I’d say that sounds like all kinds of lucky to me. But maybe you’re just the kind of guy luck comes easy to.” Leon’s eyes fixed on Mal with dark disbelief, then narrowed. “Never noticed that.” “Uh huh.” Mal nodded, musingly. “Well, I got to wondering just what kind of a guy you might be. Seein’ as how I’m givin’ you a free ride on my ship. Then Kaylee, she spoke up about something you talked about while you were in a fever, which got me purely curious.” “I don’t remember saying anything.” Leon’s tone was guarded, his eyes wary. “Maybe you don’t. But a man can say some truly interesting things when he’s sick or dreaming. So here’s the thing: how is it you come to be talking of Jake Ryder?” Leon’s eyes widened, focusing on Mal for a moment. Then he looked away. “Like I said, I don’t remember talking.” “Now I’ve the strangest notion the next thing you’re planning to say goes somethin’ like, ‘Jake who?’ or somesuch, so I’ll save you the trouble.” Mal kept his eyes on the youth. “You knew him, I see that. What I want to know is, how.” “Lots of folks’ve heard of Jake Ryder,” said Leon in a flat voice. “They say he was a top flyer.” “Oh, he surely was. Right up to the point the Alliance executed him fourteen months ago.” Mal folded his arms. “Which got me to thinking. How long were you in that prison facility?” Leon hesitated, sensing a trap. After a moment he said in a low voice, “Over a year.” “Hey, there’s a coincidence.” Mal watched Leon steadily. “Because here’s the thing: the Jake Ryder I knew about wasn’t the kind of man to let the Alliance catch up with him. Like you said, he was some flyer. And he got in and out of all kinds of dire and troublesome places during the war, though on account of your tender years you maybe won’t be acquainted with that information. So I’m askin’ myself: how’d the feds get the drop on a man like him?” Leon said nothing, but his eyes met Mal’s searching look. Mal waited a moment, then continued. “Way I figure it, maybe they had some help. Maybe someone gave them a heads-up on where Ryder would be.” He let the words stand significantly between them. Leon’s eyes widened. “You think – you think I gave him up?” He took a swift breath. “Maybe.” Mal kept his gaze levelly on the youth. “It’s a tough universe out there, all kinds of ways to tread on the Alliance’s toes and attract their unkindly attention. So maybe they cut you a deal: give them Ryder, and they’d go easier on you. Shave some years off your prison term.” Leon’s face went white: even his lips went pale. He took another sharp indrawn breath, staring at Mal; then he spoke in an unsteady voice. “You fucking son-of-a-bitch - ” His words hissed between clenched teeth. “You tsao de liao mahng - ” His hands tightened into white-knuckled fists on the coverlet; for a moment he struggled for breath. “You think I sold Jake out to those hwoon dahn?” Mal made no reply, watching the violence of the youth’s reaction. Leon shivered, then held himself still with an effort. “He was my friend.” His voice shook: he shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing; then opened them again to stare fiercely at Mal. “Jake was my friend. He gave me a life when he took me on as his crew. I worked with him near on four years, and he treated me like a brother. And you think I sold him out? Fuck you!” Mal said nothing, still watching him. Leon dropped his eyes to his fists clenched in his lap. “You want to know how the feds took Jake?” His voice was rough. “I didn’t sell him out. We were touched down for repairs and the local law picked me up in town when I went in to get the parts we needed. They wanted me to tell them where Jake and the ship were – but I figured if I held out, he could get away. That I could buy him some time. So I didn’t tell them.” His mouth tightened. “No matter what they did, I wouldn’t tell them.” There was a long moment of silence. “So they ran a groundscan and found our ship, went out to pick him up. And Jake could have got away. But he didn’t. Because he wouldn’t leave without me.” After another silence, Mal said quietly, “So they took him too.” Leon shut his eyes. “Son-of-a-bitch sheriff held a gun to my head, told Jake he was going to shoot me if he didn’t power down the ship and surrender. So Jake powered down and walked out to them.” His eyes opened again and he looked up at Mal. “So you’re right. They took him because of me. But I didn’t sell him out. I wanted him to go. I didn’t care if he left me behind.” He swallowed again. “He gave me a chance to live, to fly. I never got a chance to pay him back.” Mal sat still and quiet, his eyes fixed broodingly on Leon. After a long minute, he said, “And what happened after they took him in?” “They tried him and killed him.” Leon’s words were bleak. “Then they put me through the system and shipped me out to prison.” “What term’d they give you?” “Twenty years.” Leon sounded weary. Mal was jolted by his answer. Twenty years? Tyen-ah… How’d they think sentencing this boy to that kind of term was any sort of justice? Aloud, he said, “Can see how that’d motivate you to take a chance on breaking out.” “I promised Jake. It was the last thing he said to me. Get the hell out and don’t look back. Go out into the ‘Verse and be free.” Leon looked at Mal again, and for the first time the captain saw the boy’s lack of years show clearly in his face. “I got my chance, when the work detail compartment blew. Didn’t think, just took my chance. Got on your ship, hid away. I was hoping you’d touch down somewhere and I could just get off without you ever knowing I’d been on board. But it didn’t work out the way I planned.” “Hmm.” Mal nodded assent. There was a long pause. Leon let his shoulders lie back against the bed-head, his face pale. “I didn’t mean to bring any trouble on you and your crew. I still don’t. You want to put me dirtside soonest, I’ll go. All I want’s to go on my own way.” Mal looked up sharply at that, frowning. I want to go my own way. Unknowingly the youth had echoed Mal’s own words, the statement of purpose that had been the rallying call of the Independents. He recalled the last time he’d said them, to the Operative who had demanded that River and Simon be handed over. Seems like going your own way isn’t something the Alliance wants any of us to do. Leon was quiet now, his eyes downcast. He seemed to be thinking, and judging by the lines at the edges of his mouth his thoughts were not sunny ones. Mal regarded him silently, his own thoughts unquiet. All kinds of stories out there in the ‘Verse. Most of ‘em without happy endings. I thought this kid was just some young liao mahng, on the make and nothing but trouble. And it turns out he’s been through interrogation and custody, and I’ll bet that was none too gentle. Then he’s seen the man he called his friend arrested and killed, and held himself responsible for that. And as a last stroke of meanness, the feds put him away in that hell-hole of a prison to rot. Wuh duh mah. “Well.” Mal uncrossed his arms. “What you’ve told me, does place a different complexion on things.” Leon looked up at him. “You’ve come through a world of hurt. There’s plenty wouldn’t have made it through the way you have.” He nodded. “Took some guts.” Leon blinked, looking up at the stern-faced captain. For the first time, he heard respect in Mal’s voice. He swallowed, not sure how to take this change in approach. Mal spoke again. “I called it wrong when I said maybe you’d sold out Ryder. Owe you an apology.” He looked levelly at Leon. “Never met Jake Ryder, but I wouldn’t have made it outta several unfriendly places during the war without the blockade runs he flew. Lot of people alive today because of what he did. And you crewin’ for him, callin’ him your friend, sheds a kindlier light.” His eyes rested soberly on Leon’s. “One downside of makin’ a living out on the Rim is the abundance of double-dealing and plain unreliable folks a man comes across. Makes him a mite shy of trusting strangers. But what you said and how you said it, I see that’s for real.” He held out his hand to the youth. “Like I said, my apologies.” After a moment’s pause, Leon slowly put his own hand out and the two shook hands. There was a brief silence, then Leon said slowly, “So… What now?” “Doc said you were on the mend. So get yourself well.” Mal shrugged. “We’ll be doin’ some business at our next port of call, then headin’ back to Beaumonde. Be there in six, maybe seven days all goes to plan. We’ll set you down there. I can point you in the direction of a few folks might give you a job crewing, that’s what you want to do.” “That’s what I want.” Leon looked away for a moment, then back at Mal. “Being locked down in that place for a year… I haven’t seen the sky since they put me away.” He swallowed. “Almost forgotten what the ‘Verse looks like.” “Well, it ain’t changed overmuch,” Mal responded. “Mostly kinda dark with a bunch of stars scattered about. It’s still out there, if that’s what’s worryin’ you.” Leon looked at him quickly, and saw the slight quirk lifting the corner of Mal’s mouth. After a moment’s hesitation, his own mouth curved slightly into a small smile. “Good.” Mal straightened up. “I got to go harass my crew, or they’ll get to thinking I don’t care about ‘em.” He nodded at where Simon had left his databook. “Doc’ll take care of you. He’s a good medic. And when you’re feelin’ up to it, you can come and get yourself a meal upstairs with the rest of us.” “I don’t have to stay locked up in here?” Leon asked. Mal shook his head. “Provided you got good company manners, no.” “Thanks.” Leon let out a long breath. “I’ve had about enough of locked doors.” Mal acknowledged this with a wry smile, then turned and left the room. He’d only walked a short distance when he met Simon standing in the hallway. “Loitering with intent, doc? Woulda thought you had better things to do.” “I thought I’d wait nearby. In case there was a… medical emergency.” Simon said the last two words with sarcasm. “Have you finished talking to my patient?” “Yep.” Mal nodded significantly. “I found out what I needed to know.” “Right. So let me guess – you’d like him confined in cuffs as soon as he’s fit enough?” Mal’s mouth twisted into an ironic smile. Instead of answering Simon’s question, he asked his own. “Tell me, doc, what exactly is it I’ve done that’s put a bug up your ass this time?” “Well, I’m not overfond of interrogations being carried out on my patients,” replied Simon shortly. “Especially when the patient in question doesn’t exactly appear to be a major threat to anyone on board.” “Uh huh.” Mal glanced back down the corridor towards the infirmary, then looked at Simon. “That your medical opinion?” “You know, being a doctor does involve knowing about a few more things other than just writing prescriptions. It may surprise you to learn that some of the studying I had to do to qualify actually involved understanding how people’s minds worked, as well as their bodies. And I’m willing to share my medical opinion that that boy in the infirmary isn’t the criminal mastermind you seem to think he is.” “Much as I hate to say it, we’re in agreement on that one, doc.” Mal spoke mildly. Simon looked taken aback. “Having spoken to him about his recent history has considerably set my mind at ease. So as soon as he feels up to it, you can find him a room in the passenger quarters. He can travel on the rest of his way with us in there.” Mal moved to go, then paused. “And I guess you might need to fix him up with some clothes, seeing as how we disposed of that uniform he snuck on board in.” He smiled at Simon. “Think you can handle that?” Simon’s mouth opened and shut, his anger derailed by Mal’s apparent U-turn. After a moment he said, “I daresay I can manage.” “Good.” Mal nodded. “Oh, and doc?” Simon looked up. “Reason I questioned that boy in there is the same reason I usually do things. Looking after this ship, and the people on it. I know by now that trouble don’t always come in familiar packages. That boy’s young; but where he come from could’ve meant he’d already learned not be overly sentimental about other people’s health and happiness. I kept your sister on board a long whiles before I saw what she was capable of, in the Maidenhead bar. I don’t plan on having any more uncomfortable surprises of that sort, if I can avoid it. And now I’ve spoken to that boy, I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna be a threat to any of us.” “Right.” Simon met Mal’s gaze. “I understand.” “Knew you would.” Mal nodded. “See y’later, doc.” And with that he strode away. Simon let out a long low breath, then headed to the infirmary. He saw Leon lying still on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Simon entered quietly, but the youth started a little and his eyes instantly switched to him. Simon smiled reassuringly. “Only me,” he said. “You feeling okay?” “Better than I was.” “Good. Well, keep drinking plenty and get some food inside you, and you’ll be feeling better still.” He checked the bandage on Leon’s arm. “I’ll need to change this dressing sometime today, but that won’t take long.” “Okay…” Leon was looking thoughtful. Simon sat back on the stool at his bedside. “So I gather you and the captain had a… positive discussion.” “I guess so.” Leon’s brows drew down slightly and he looked sideways at Simon. “He said I could get up when I’m feeling better, come and eat with the crew.” “Well, that’ll probably do you good. Apart from having to watch Jayne eat, but there’s nothing we can do about that.” “Jane? Who’s she?” “He is the overly-muscled individual who laid you out with the wrench,” said Simon, his mouth quirking into a grin at Leon’s inadvertent mistake. “He’s a mercenary employed as part of the crew. When you first meet him you might think he’s nothing but a violent lunatic, but once you get to know him better…” He grinned more widely. “Then you realize he’s actually a lot more dangerous than that.” “Oh.” Leon looked vaguely concerned, so Simon shook his head. “Relax. The captain and Zoë keep him under control.” “Zoë… She’s the one helped you work on my arm?” “Yes. Then there’s Kaylee, who you bumped into in the engine room; she’s the ship’s engineer. There’s Inara, who’s a Companion who travels with us. My younger sister, River. And the captain, Mal, you’ve met.” “Yeah. We’ve met.” The frown came back on Leon’s face. “I didn’t think he liked me… But after we talked, he eased up.” Simon waited, to see if more explanation would be forthcoming. But Leon said nothing more. Simon rested his elbow on the bed. “You’re honoured. The captain doesn’t make a habit of being kind to strangers. Especially ones that stow away on his ship. And believe me, I’m talking from experience.” Leon looked at him. “He’s had stowaways before?” “It’s a long story.” Simon decided not to elaborate further. This boy might have satisfied Mal that he was no threat to the crew, but Simon didn’t want to share any more information about himself and his sister than was strictly necessary. However okay this boy might be, he’ll be going his own way soon. So the less he knows about River and me, the better. Aloud he said, “Anyway, the captain deciding you don’t have to be kept locked in irons will mean you have a more comfortable journey.” He smiled. “As soon as you feel up to moving, you can leave here for one of the passenger cabins. There’s plenty of room. My sister lives back here; the rest of us bunk up in the crew cabins.” Leon looked at the doorway. “That’d be good. I haven’t slept in my own space since…” He swallowed, and Simon saw the muscles in his face tighten suddenly, as if at a painful memory. After a moment, Leon finished what he’d been saying. “For… a while.” He breathed out slowly. Simon stood up. “Well, there’s no hurry. I’d like to keep you in here today, make sure you’re really on the mend. If you can manage to eat something by this evening, we could think about you shifting to a cabin tonight.” “Okay.” Leon nodded slowly. As Simon moved away, the youth spoke again. “Uh - ” “What is it?” “You told me everyone else’s name. But I don’t know yours.” “It’s Simon.” Simon smiled down at him. “Sorry. Bad bedside manner.” “Simon.” Leon looked up at him steadily. “I wanted to know who to thank, for taking that chip out my arm, making me better. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” said Simon. “Just doing my job.” “Last time I saw a doctor was in prison after I got knifed,” Leon said. “Told me I was a degenerate, and to keep out of trouble.” “Well, maybe my bedside manner isn’t as bad as I thought it was.” Simon shook his head. “If it’s any consolation, it looks like he did a reasonable job on your knife wound. Although his professional standards of care obviously didn’t extend to reporting your other injuries to the authorities.” “Jien tah-duh guay…” Leon’s mouth moved into a bitter smile. “Like they would’ve done anything.” He looked at Simon. “They knew what was going on. But who cares what happens to convicts, mei yong-duh zang-huo?” His mouth tightened. “I figured the only way to make it stop was to get out of there.” “Well, you made it.” Simon nodded. “It must have been rough, but you made it through.” “I made a promise to someone I would.” Leon looked down at his hands on the coverlet. “When it got… bad, I just kept telling myself, I had to make it out of there. That I would.” “And it got pretty bad.” Simon’s statement was a gentle question. “Yeah.” Leon swallowed, staring at his hands. “I… got on the wrong side of one of the guards, he took against me. Got so I couldn’t do anything without him deciding I needed keeping in line.” His shoulders lifted, unconsciously defensive. “That was the man who gave you those burns? With an electric baton?” “Yeah. That was him.” Leon’s eyes shut for a moment. “Chou wang ba dahn.” He looked up at Simon. “Couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Couldn’t tell anyone, I knew no-one’d do anything. Couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t fight back… First time I tried that, I wound up in solitary and the hwoon dahn hurt me so bad, I…” He caught himself with an effort. “Tyen-ah, I thought he was going to kill me.” Simon said nothing, waiting quietly for him to continue. After a moment Leon took an unsteady breath. “So I learned my lesson. Kept my head down after that. Took what he handed out and didn’t talk back. Did whatever I had to do to keep going.” His voice grew low: Simon heard the shame in it. “Every day I’d wake up in there and think, there’s no way I can make it through this…” “But you did,” said Simon. “Yeah.” Leon’s teeth were set together. “But I don’t know how.” Simon thought for a moment; then he rested one elbow on the bed, leaning his chin on his hand. “It’s a strange thing, the human mind. It reacts to adverse circumstances in ways we don’t expect. Especially when our survival’s at stake. I’ve seen people with terrible injuries, massive trauma, walk into hospitals on their own two feet when they should have been dead from shock. The survival instinct is incredibly powerful, Leon. It can drive us, keep our bodies functioning even after we’ve stopped consciously directing it. We’ll do what we have to, to survive. And afterwards, sometimes we can’t believe the things we did. It’s as if they happened to someone else, some other person. Which in a way, it did. The part of you that kept you going in prison is a part you probably never even knew you had. But it was there when you needed it. And now you don’t need it any more, you can let it go.” Leon looked at Simon intently, his dark eyes searching the doctor’s face. Simon gave a small, reassuring smile. “Try not to worry about it. If I were you, I’d think about your life ahead. Leave the dark times behind, and focus on the future. Because now you’ve got one.”