There was a warm breeze and the promise of a summer rain. Simon turned his face into the wind and smiled at the sight of the sun and the grass and the sound of birds singing somewhere in the distance.

This was what relaxing felt like. This moment of peace in a world of chaos was something Simon had not known for over five years. Ever since rescuing River had become his mission in life, peace was something he couldn’t waste time thinking of. So his sister’s scream curdled his blood and wiped his smile away with a blow to the gut.

Snapping his eyes open, Simon realized the peace had been an illusion and River’s pained cry was the reality. Bolting from his bunk and shoving his door aside, he crossed the small passenger’s hallway in a few steps and entered his sister’s room. She was not awake, but rather trapped in a nightmare, thrashing about with the force of ten men. Simon rushed to her side and did his best to grab her arms. Flailing about, she was hard to control and her strength was no match for him.

“River,” he called, trying to reach her through her screams, through her fear. “River, wake up. It’s just a bad dream.”

Still writhing, she wrenched an arm free and lashed out with such force she knocked him across the room. He landed hard in the corner, his right shoulder taking much of the blow. Grimacing against the throbbing pain and the inevitable bruise, Simon stood slowly, and again approached his sister carefully. Her screams had quieted, but she was still in the throes of a horrific dream – one she seemed to have all too often.

“River,” he called again, this time more calmly. “River, can you hear me? It’s Simon.”

This time his voice reached her, and she slowly settled herself. Rolling onto her side, her eyes snapped open and she fell to the floor in a panther’s stance, ready to pounce on the unseen foe she had been railing against in her dream state.

Staying where he was, Simon reached out a hand and said, “River? It’s me, Simon. Do you know where you are?”

Her head turned slowly, her brown eyes barely visible between her strands of sweat-stained hair. It was a feral look that Simon had become too accustomed to seeing. His sister, his beautiful sister, had once smiled and laughed with the light of a thousand angels. But now, after witnessing some of the most horrendous atrocities one human could inflict on another and multiple surgeries to permanently alter her state of consciousness, Simon often did not recognize the girl who looked at him.

With a start, River inhaled sharply and slumped down, falling against her bunk, her arms and legs limp. Slowly, pulling her knees into her chest, she sunk her head down on top of them and started to weep, silent sobs that wracked her entire lithe frame.

Knowing this outburst had passed Simon moved forward and gathered her in his arms. Holding her firmly against his chest, he tried to will her tears and her pain away just by sheer force. But it had not worked over the past eighteen months and he knew it wouldn’t work now.

Laying her back into bed, he pulled out new sheets, removing the wet and torn ones. On their next stop to a decent planet he would again have to invest in more bedclothes. River’s night terrors were often violent and that meant plenty of shredded cotton for bandages.

Pulling a thin blanket up to her chin, he tried to calm her by singing a lullaby he remembered their mother used to hum. It seemed to do the trick, as River joined him in the tune. Taking her hand, he stroked it gently and watched River’s breathing become more rhythmic and shallow.

“You’re okay, mei mei,” he whispered to her, pushing hair off her face. Leaning in, he kissed her gently on the forehead and murmured, “You’re safe here. I’m going to make you better.”

Watching her for a few more moments, Simon waited until he was sure she was out, and then quietly left the room. Once her door was safely shut behind him, he leaned heavily against the cool metal wall of the ship and closed his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, Simon fought back tears of helplessness and desperation. He wanted to make her better, but he couldn’t.

Opening his eyes, a figure came into focus, and he smiled wearily despite the events of the past thirty minutes. At his smile, Kaylee crossed the small distance between them and gently took his hand.

“How long have you been out here,” he asked her, holding her hand with both of his and willing himself not to lose his composure.

“Since River started caterwauling. I could hear her in my bunk,” Kaylee confessed. Looking just over his shoulder, she asked, “Is she okay?”

Sighing heavily again, Simon walked away and entered his own room, sitting on the edge of his bunk. Kaylee followed and stayed in the doorway, uncertain what would come next or if she’d be welcome.

Placing his elbows on his knees, Simon hunched forward and stared at nothing. “She’s not better,” he finally admitted, a few silent tears falling down his face. “And she’s not going to get better.”

Kaylee entered the room and knelt in front of him. Lifting up his chin, she met his watery eyes and said, “Yes, she will. You can fix her.”

She said it with such conviction, with such assuredness that Simon was reminded of why he loved her. She did things like this everyday. Little things, from the way her nose scrunched up when she heard a dirty joke to the way she always had grease stains on her cheeks to the way she kissed him. All of these little things just reminded Simon how lucky he was to be with her.

But this time, although she meant well, she was wrong. Reaching out to caress her cheek, he said, “I appreciate your faith in me, but it’s misplaced. I can’t fix River. Not even with the best medical equipment in the core and a team of doctors to operate it. What they did to her …” he trailed off, dropping his gaze and again willing his tears to go away.

Rising, Kaylee sat beside him on the bunk and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled his head to her chest and said, “River don’t need anything in this ‘verse but you. Your love for her and for each other has gotten you this far. If there’s a way to make her better, you’ll find it.”

“That’s just it,” Simon said, pulling away from her embrace, but staying close. “I should have been able to find it by now. But once I got those images from Ariel, I knew it was over.” Turning his head, Simon’s eyes burned through the door to River’s room as he stretched his hearing to pick up any sign of distress. Once he was sure she was still fast asleep, he turned back to Kaylee. “I might be able to find the right mix of medicines, but it won’t cure her. It might give her a few more lucid moments per day, but …” His voice trailed off as unwanted tears came again. Kaylee gently took his hand with both of hers. Quietly, he said, “She’ll never be who she once was.”

Kaylee held onto his hand for a moment longer, and then reached out to brush his tears away. They continued to fall silently and although it shamed Simon to cry in front of her - one of the strongest women he’d ever met - he couldn’t help it; the grief he felt for his sister was overwhelming.

After a few minutes, Kaylee cleared her throat and said quietly, “Look, I don’t know anything about how people work, but I know how ships work. When Serenity’s hurting, she tells me. She doesn’t always shout it out loud, but if I’m quiet and I listen real good, she’ll let me know what the trouble is. Serenity and me, we trust each other. River trusts you and you care about her more than any other person in this ‘verse. You just got to stay close and listen.”

Simon turned to gaze at her. Kaylee was staring at the far wall of the ship as if listening to a silent conversation that only its mechanic could hear. Remembering herself, she turned to face him and smiled a lopsided grin that always brought an equal expression to Simon’s face. It didn’t fail this time either.

Reaching out and holding her cheek in his palm, Simon said, “Don’t let me give up on her okay?”

Leaning in closer so their foreheads were almost touching, Kaylee answered, “I didn’t let you give up on me, did I?”

Chuckling despite his foul mood, Simon leaned closer and said, “It’s a good thing I didn’t.”

Kaylee’s lips were on his in a moment and Simon’s tension melted away at the contact. He had promised himself that he would start living some semblance of a life and since he had made that pledge, and let Kaylee know it too, there were brief shining moments of happiness, like this one. Right now, he’d take moments, if that’s what he could get.