Warnings: Altered timeline from 'Ariel', angst, dark scene, traumatic treatment

Thanks to lvs2read for the great beta and thunder_nari for the great beta and spurring me on.

"This must be exquisitely painful." The blue-handed man runs a finger lightly down Simon's chest, sending a fresh wave of agony through him. The constant ache is bad enough, but the man's touch makes Simon flinch and only adds to the biting pain.

Simon ignores the comment, tensing as straps are pulled across his shoulder and belly, restraints encircling his hands and feet. A part of him is surprised they aren't just dragging him back to whichever ship they came in on, adding to his pain and difficulty to breathe. But it's becoming clearer and clearer that these men aren't anything like he expected. Stabilise a patient, put him on the road to recovery and then get what you want from him. A lack of oxygen could lead to brain damage or even death, neither of which would be any use to them.

They were clever, Simon had to admit that, and he wasn't so sure anymore that they were Alliance; at least not the shining, smiling face that was projected over the Core. Beacon of civilization and prosperity. These men undoubtedly had ties in the government and had Alliance in their pocket, but not all and every officer. If they had, then there would have been no need to kill the feds. No need to ensure no one knew of his and River's presence.

"You've been quite a problem, Simon." The man is looking down at him now, chiding him as one would a misbehaving child.

"My heart bleeds for you." Simon croaks the words out because it's getting harder to breathe, band tightening around his chest, pressing in and what he wants to say, everything that rages within him, he can't give voice to. The man says nothing, merely smiles and lays his hand on Simon's chest, bringing another groan to the doctor's lips; the pain's excruciating and it's unnerving being strapped down to a stretcher, feeling someone's hand on his chest, just knowing how vulnerable he is. And then the man presses down lightly, sending white hot pain through Simon's body as he tries to twist, unable to do more then rock in the bindings, air shunted from his lungs as he makes a guttural choking sound. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

And then he can breathe again, the offending hand is lifted off and Simon can barely see the man leaning over him, can just focus as his vision swims and eyes sting. There's no need for words, he's made his point eloquently enough and Simon's not about to say any more. Not about to think on anything to say, just ride out the pain as it starts to abate, to become a juddering throb.

The blue-handed men don't say a word as they work, their own thoughts centered fully on the man they're binding. Both have an unhealthy to punish Simon along with the dislike and annoyance they feel. Bindings firmly in place, the taller of the two men presses his hand to Simon's throat, noting the wheezing sound the doctor's now making.

"You exerted too much pressure." It's a comment, not a jibe or accusation. Neither man cares that Simon's in pain, both view it as justice; extra punishment for the man that stole from them. But they do need Simon alive and healthy, do accept in hindsight that conditioning Simon Tam before River would have been beneficial and made the process smoother. It's an error they plan to correct; with Simon in their custody and River's location undoubtedly inside his mind, they have no doubt that they can make him do as they wish.

"Perhaps." The other man nods. "Intubation might provide sufficient ventilation."

"A sound idea."

Simon can't hear what they’re saying, but he notices when they gesture a third individual over, a woman who at first glance Simon is relieved to notice wears no gloves. Prisoner? Doctor… He wonders if she's innocent in all of this, if she'll be clawing at her ears and eyes in a matter of moments, but she's cool and poised as she steps over the downed fed's corpse and presses her stethoscope to his chest. Not a very good one. Simon winces as she presses too hard, isn't careful in her touch and doesn't say a word to him, just addresses the two men with obvious respect on her face.

So she's one of them, or works for them. The thought sets him on edge because these people don't heal, they twist and change and hurt. One of the men cups his hands around Simon's jaw, the touch making Simon's heart race and his breath quicken in anxiety as fingers then dig into the sides of his mouth, forcing it open. Something fills his mouth, burning his tonsils as it pushes itself down his throat, making Simon gag and heave, though a touch to the pressure points in his neck has the reflex abating and the tube slides down deep towards his lungs.

It's a violation of the worst kind and Simon tries to claw at it, unable to breathe, hyperventilating as he tries to cough the tube out. Never without anesthetic And then there's a prick in his hand and everything suddenly seems so far away, his body too heavy to try moving and the tube isn't so much of a bother.

Without a sound Simon slips into a sedated sleep, and the doctor nods to the other men lurking in the forecourt. "Take him to the ship." She orders them and they obey without question, it's only a matter of handing over the necessary information and her work is done. She can go back to her normal job and no one's the wiser. Until they call on her again.

"We need all information on today's traffic, everything in and out of the hospital." The blue-handed man is unsurprisingly polite, pleased at her prompt response; if only all their operatives were that conscientious. He idly wonders if Simon Tam has any idea just how far their reach could extend, just what areas they can affect and who they can use. Shaking off the thought, he follows his partner and leaves the room, allowing the cleanup team to do their work. To cover up and assure Alliance officials that the fugitives were still at large and they, and whoever was with them, had no qualms about killing nine men in cold blood.