Captain Doctor By KMS kmspider@aol.com http://hometown.aol.com/kmspider/myhomepage/index.html

Summary: AU-instead of losing the Battle of Serenity, the Independents won, extending the course of the war. Takes place around the same time as the series, six years after the First Battle of Serenity on Hera.

* * * * * Chapter 5 * * * * *

Hera:

"What do you want in return this time?" Early demanded, glowering at the spy standing before him.

Reynolds had snatched his pet doctor right out of the Commander's hands. Those lazy guards were going to be made to pay for their incompetence. But not nearly as much as Reynolds and the doctor would.

"A transfer. I want off this rock."

Doable, Early nodded. And well worth it for the information. Besides, the traitor would never see another sun. This man's army didn't need a soldier who didn't respect his superiors.

"Consider it done, son."

* * * * * * *

Simon woke to the smell of food cooking. He sat up sleepily, looking through the flap at the cozy encampment that the squad had set up. Someone had erected a small tent, and they had actually moved him into it while he slept. It was a bit disconcerting to find that he had been moved unaware.

He had been covered again and left on a sleeping bag. A change of clothes had been rounded up and a bucket of water and a towel had been left near the opening.

He got up to wash and was half naked when Zoe slipped in the tent with him. He gave a small yelp of surprise and pulled the towel in front of him, making her chuckle at him.

"Don't worry, Little One, your virtue is intact."

Outside the tent, he could hear Wash joining her laughter.

He gave her a mild glare and she just grinned unrepentantly at him, and held out more pills.

"I wanted to take a look at those ribs before you got dressed."

Giving up, he turned back to the bucket and awkwardly finished splashing water over himself to get clean. She took the towel from him and guided him back to the sleeping bag, making brisk work of drying off his back before handing it back to him, then running a hand down his sides to gauge his injuries. The bruises were dark, standing out stark against the pale skin.

"They're not broken, just bruised," he told her, shivering as she skimmed fingers over his back, raising gooseflesh.

"Pretty nasty bruises, but you'll live."

"Thank you, Doctor," he replied sardonically.

"Smart ass," she gave it right back at him. She held out the pills again, and handed him a canteen.

He swallowed them, and she laid her hand against his forehead.

"Fever's down," she informed him, and tossed him a shirt. "How's the chest?"

Simon experimentally took a deep breath, relieved to do so without falling into a bout of coughing. He gave her a nod.

"Get dressed. Dinner's almost ready. Jayne caught a rabbit." She left without another word.

A rabbit? Out here? In the midst of a battleground? Hare must have had a death wish.

By the time he emerged, he felt cleaner than he had been in days. Dressed in clean clothes, and 'liberated' boots on his feet, surrounded by an overlarge coat, he was starting to feel human again.

Wash waved him over to a spot near the cooking fire, handing him a plate of stew as soon as he was seated. Around him sat most of the rest of the squad, including the Sarge. Simon let their casual joking roll over him, feeling as though they had somehow adopted him, like a stray puppy.

He found he was hungry, and couldn't bring himself to stop eating long enough to answer any of the jokes or questions that were flung at him. He looked up from his plate to see Reynolds eyeing him.

"A mite hungry, Doc?"

"Afraid I haven't had anything solid in..." Simon trailed off. "How... how long was I in..." He paused again, not knowing how to describe his cell.

"They call 'em The Vaults. No way in, no way out."

"Is that where you keep all prisoners of war?" Simon said with distaste, shuddering when he remembered the atrocious conditions.

"No," Reynolds mouth tightened. "That's a little trick of that jackass Commander that got his hands on ya. Sorry about that, Doc. You deserved better."

Simon nodded, taking a hunk of bread that Wash passed to him. He nodded his thanks to the man, and bite into it, swallowing before asking, "Are you planning on sending me back?"

Reynolds nodded. "Soon as we can figure out a way to get you through both our lines and yours without both sides shooting our tails off. Figured we'd keep heading south until we flank your side and let you wander back in."

"I can't just go to the nearest security checkpoint and surrender myself to the Alliance?"

"Most likely take a bullet for your troubles."

"From your side or mine?"

Reynolds smiled grimly. "Both, probably."

Jayne passed over a flask, and Simon took a swig, immediately coughing as his throat closed in protest.

Reynolds grinned and Jayne bellowed in laughter.

"What the hell is that?" Simon managed to gasp.

"Got us a little girl in the motor pool named Kaylee what brews her own rotgut," Reynolds supplied.

"Fresh, eh?" Jayne asked with a grin.

Simon coughed and shuddered. "If by fresh, you mean: made an hour ago?"

"Purt near," Zoe answered.

"Might consider saving this for surgery. It's sure to kill any germ that ever thought about living," Simon replied, handing the flask back to Jayne amid the easy laughter.

"Speaking of surgery," Simon forged ahead, "Want me to take a look at that?" he nodded in Reynolds direction.

The Sarge looked down at his chest. "It's doing right fine, Doc. No need to trouble yourself."

"Well," Simon deadpanned, and an ironic smile touching his lips, "I came all this way."

He could hear Jayne chuckle. "Boy's got a point, Mal."

Reynolds rolled his eyes, but tipped his head toward the tent, getting to his feet.

Simon followed him. The man didn't enter the small tent, merely stood beside it and opened his shirt. Simon brushed the crucifix that hung around the sergeant's neck aside, and took a peek behind the fresh bandage, seeing a clean wound, nicely healing. His neat stitches stood out starkly black against the tan skin, with no redness to indicate infection. He peered closely, taking a sniff. Occasionally a wound would give off an odor if it were going septic. And under these conditions, that was all too likely.

Reynolds caught his eye and gave him an odd look, but stood his ground, amusement dancing in his eyes. Having thoroughly embarrassed himself, Simon quickly explained what he was doing, replacing the bandage and taking vitals.

Finally satisfied, he stepped away, indicating Reynolds could redress. "Someone's done a good job keeping it clean," Simon commented.

"We've had more'n our fair share of battle scars. Not always lucky enough to have a Core-trained, Alliance doctor nearby."

Simon conceded the point with a nod, stating, "At least, not one you haven't kidnapped."

Reynolds grinned. "They are a loyal bunch, that's for sure."

Suddenly Simon was sideswiped by a yawn. Astonished at himself, he grumbled, "I just got up!"

Reynolds laughed at him, and clapped him on the back, turning him back to the fire. "But how many days were you up before that?"

Simon scrubbed at his eyes. "I lost count."

"Jayne said you were doing surgery in your sleep."

"If I had, at least I would have gotten some shuteye."

Reynolds patted the front of his chest. "This ain't the work of a sleepwalker, Doc."

Simon yawned again as he took his seat next to Wash. "Thank you, Sergeant."

******

After hearing the spy spill Reynolds plans to return the doctor, Commander Jubal Early was furious.

That son of a bitch! Undermining his authority that way!

Jubal Early was going to make Mal Reynolds pay. It wouldn't be enough for them just to interrogate Reynolds' pet doctor anymore. It was time for a more permanent solution. With extreme prejudice!

* * * * * * *

Battlecruiser Blue Shield Orbiting Above Hera:

Colonel Book looked down at the instructions he'd just been given.

It seemed that the rebels had confiscated an Alliance doctor and he was being tasked to bring the young man home.

Again that sense of shifting patterns crept up his spine. Book looked harder at the flexi with the young man's picture on it, turning it over to read the doctor's statistics. Nothing there gave him a clue as to why this boy should be a part of the puzzle, but the feeling wouldn't leave.

Maybe when he got the young doctor back he would have to spend a little time interrogating him. Somehow the young man was important to the outcome of the war, but for the life of him, Book couldn't figure out how.

Plan made, Book nodded to himself, then called to his aide and began to plan a rescue.

* * * * * * *

Hera:

Simon woke to the strangled light of dawn attempting to penetrate the clouds. Blinking his eyes open, he realized his nose was pressed into a brawny back. Looking down, there was a dark, feminine hand resting at his hip. Sitting up, he realized that it was Jayne sleeping in front of him (his arms wrapped an extremely large gun), and Zoe and Wash snuggled up behind. That explained why he was so toasty. How the hell they'd all managed to fit in the tent was beyond him. He didn't even remember falling asleep.

His movements woke Zoe, and at her muted grumbled, he looked down to see her dark eyes peering up at him.

"Sorry," he whispered an apology.

Sleepily she rubbed her eyes. "Time to get up anyway, Doc."

Simon crawled for the opening, taking a moment to gauge the weather before climbing to his feet. Inside the tent he could hear Zoe waking the others. Simon took a deep breath of air and fell into a coughing fit. His lungs weren't quite up to par yet. It finally subsided, and he sat down to pull on his boots, spending a minute awkwardly lacing them up.

"Morning, Doc!" a voice greeted him, and he looked up to see Sergeant Reynolds waving him over to the fire.

"Sergeant," he responded, scratching at his hair, as he got to his feet again.

"Mud fleas," Reynolds pointed out helpfully. "Doesn't matter which side wins the war, the mud fleas will triumph."

Simon grinned at him, and took a seat. "You certainly don't seem to let the conditions here get to you."

"Been here before. Hera's a nasty wench when she wants to be. Don't take kindly to unwelcome visitors."

"Would that be your side or ours?"

Reynolds smiled. "After all the disaster inflicted, probably both."

Simon again noticed the cross dangle from the sergeant's neck as he leaned forward to hand him a tin cup of hot coffee.

"Seems strange to see a man like yourself still believing in God after all this fighting," Simon commented.

"Almost lost my faith six years ago, son, the last time we were here on Hera."

"You were at the Battle of Serenity?"

"Yeppers. Thought we'd lost, seeing your side filling up the sky with ships. We managed to pull an end run that day, straight for the serpent's head. Scared 'em so bad they turned tail and run. God was with us that day."

"Did you know the man who ordered the run? Harbatkin?"

Reynolds' face brightened with a sly grin. "Nobody's allowed to know who the Hero of Serenity is, but we all know he didn't do it alone. Let's just say we were too pretty to lose, Doc."

Simon shook his head and smiled despite himself. He admired the fact that the Sergeant seemed to make the best of a bad situation. Everyone knew the war was putting a terrible strain on both sides: physical, financial, and personal.

Simon scratched at mud fleas again, stretching his legs toward the fire, and asked, "What are you going to do after the war. Provided it ever ends."

Reynolds grinned at him. "Plan to get me a ship and fly, and never kiss dirt again." He tipped his cup at Wash and Zoe, as she joined Wash and took a seat. "Already got me a pilot and a first mate."

"I wanna go," a voice added from nearby.

"Sure, Jayne, you can come along. We could always use the muscle," Reynolds called back.

"Long as we don't let him cook," Wash complained, "His culinary talents are near to killing us all."

"Hey!"

Zoe rolled her eyes at Jayne.

"Maybe we should send him over to the other side with the Doc. One prepared meal from Jayne and they'd all be too busy in the latrine to fight," Wash prodded.

"You wanna go, Little Man?" Jayne snarled.

"As long as it's some place dry and carpeted," came the quick reply.

"Amen to that," Reynolds chipped in.

"Here here," added Simon, clinking tin cups with the sergeant.

"What about you, Doc? What you going to do after the war?" Reynolds asked.

"Back to Capitol City Hospital on Osiris. Got a position waiting for me. Going to try to catch up with my sister first."

"Where's she?" Zoe asked, stealing Wash's cup of coffee, and taking a sip.

"She went away to the Academy just before I left. Haven't seen her in three years."

"Close?" Wash inquired.

"She's a brat, but brilliant," Simon said with a fond smile, staring down into his cup.

"Rumor has it the big wigs are gonna wrap up this party soon. Call it a draw and let each side go its own way," Jayne said, taking a seat next to Reynolds and reaching for the coffee.

"It'd be nice to go home," Simon said wistfully.

"Rich fella like you, probably already got his own estate and the like," Jayne commented, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out some rabbit jerky for his breakfast.

"No," Simon grinned. "Just a small apartment near the hospital. At least, I used to. Most of my stuff is in storage."

"Some don't got a home to go to no more," Jayne said, taking a guarded glace at his sergeant.

"Those ghosts are long buried, Jayne," Reynolds responded soberly. "Best leave them lay."

Zoe reached across Wash, and snagged Simon's cup from his hand. When he looked up in surprise, she nudged a couple of pills into his hand. "Heard you coughing earlier. Wouldn't do to send you back too sick to operate on us the next time we steal you."

"Right. Wouldn't want that." Simon downed the pills and she handed him back his cup.

Suddenly Reynolds radio crackled to life. Monty's voice boomed out, "Sarge, you got a patrol headed your way. It's Early's men."

Reynolds rose to his feet, clicking the mike open. "Thanks, Monty. We'll take care of it."

Turning to his people, he ordered, "Jayne, douse the fire. Zoe, break down the tent. Wash, get the gear stowed. Let's move it, people! And where the hell is Tracy? He's supposed to be on guard duty."

The others raced off to follow order. Simon stood as well, eyes wide. "What do I do?"

Reynolds made a grab for the back of his collar, and ran for the meager protection of a burned out building, pulling Simon along with him. "Keep down. They ain't gettin' their hands on you this time."

"He's a commander. Doesn't he outrank you?"

"Only if he catches me, son."

* * * * * * * end Chapter 5 * * * * * * *