Simon followed the sobbing. It was very loud, for sobbing, that is. But he knew the sound of his sisters sobbing. He had heard it too many times to ever forget it. True to form, he found her near the infirmary, tucked up in a corner hugging her knees. Tears streamed down her face, cutting rivulets of pain into her face. Simon knelt in front of her, worried that she was having a relapse. She looked at him, eyes still filled to the brim with unshed tears. “Go ‘way, Simon. Keep away from me. You can’t be near me.” Simon felt a headache coming on. “And whys that, mei-mei?” “Everyone I loves dies. So I have to stop loving people. I stop loving people, people stop dying.” One name screamed through Simons mind: Billy. Zoë had clued him in as to what had happened, and it was cruel that Rivers first crush was taken from her like that. “No, not a crush. First love. Not taken. Murdered.” She had that rather disturbing habit of having conversations with people when they weren’t even speaking. “Its just the way I am.” Simon put a hand to his aching head. “Well, could you let me speak before you read my mind?” he said rather snappishly. “Why’d you bite Kaylee?” “What? Wait, I…What has that got to do with…why…You-our-you-“ “Here, Simon, let me take care of it. I know just what to do.” Cassandra stepped out of the shadows. “Simon held his head as a jolt of pain traced fire up the side of his head. “Thanks, Cassandra. There’s just some things I’ll never understand.” “Perfectly alright.” She smiled at him. Something about that smile…he was sure that he’d seen it before. But, with his head throbbing as it was, he couldn’t place it. Ah, it would all come in good time…ai ya! This headache was fast going beyond a migraine. Maybe a smoother, or even a bit of ice. He stumbled down to the infirmary, his eyes going black at the edges. What was happening to him? He frantically looked about for anything to help, to just let him think a little clearer so that he didn’t stick a needles worth of poison into his vein. Even some ice. The blackness closed upon his vision, strangling him for want of light. His brain called out for air. He found a bag, some liquid swished inside it. His throat was closed, he couldn’t cry out. He raised the bag over his head. With his thumbs, he punctured it, letting the fluid wash over him. Some slid into his, and he recognized that salty sweetness. It was blood. The dark enveloped him, enigmatic of the shadow on his soul. *** Simon lay upon the cold floor, groaning. He had passed out. Tzao Gao! He felt his head, and his finger came away bloody. At least his sight was back. He looked at his shirt. Red as roses. “Best clean that up, son.” That voice. That voice that hadn’t been spoken since Haven. He looked up. Lo and behold, there stood Shepard Book. “Hello, son.” Simon was sure that his mouth hung open. “B-b-but…your dead! I helped bury you!” “I’m right here, aren’t I?” “Yes, but…I saw you die.” Actually, I’m still dead. I am here to help you through your trial.” “I…you…I don’t have any trial!!!” “Simon…?”Kaylee stepped through the open doorway, looking scared. Simon smiled, revealing bloody teeth. “Oh, hello. I, uh, I guess I had a bit of an accident.” “’Accident?’ Simon, you look like a Tin Man gone ta rust!” “Yeah, well, I kinda popped a bag of plasma-blood over my head. I guess I don’t really like blood all that much.” “Ah, how easily lies spring from your lips!” Simons head snapped to one side. Wash sat on a counter, dressed in that damnedly loud Hawaiian shirt. He grinned goofily at him. “Poetic, innit?” “Um, c’mon, Kaylee, I need a shower.” “Need help,” she said hopefully. “Sure, I-“ Shepard Book frowned disapprovingly on him. “Um, on second thought, I think that I’ll shower alone…but, I will make it up to you later.” He chastely kissed her on the cheek before he went down the hall, fake blood dripping off his shirt. *** He sat in the shower, shirt off and over the side. Water pounded down onto him, but he had kept his pants on. Namely because Wash sat in a corner right by him, and Wash was dead and gone. Weren’t no way in the Seven Hells that Wash was acomin’ back to ‘em. Outside the stall was a towel and a new set of clothes for him to change into. The water was steaming, but he felt cold. He shivered. “Y’know, that’s not really very healthy. That temperature. Its like a sauna in here. Whew!” He popped the collar of his loud shirt. “Go away. You are obviously a figure of my imagination, brought on by a severe headache, stress, and not making love to Kaylee for four hours.” Wash whistled. “So, you finally got with lil’ Kaylee. Well, I might be a figment of your imagination, but the boils your gonna get aren’t.” Simon looked at his skin, and found it red and irritated from the scalding water. He quickly turned it off, then stepped out of the shower, being met by a blast of cool air. He secured the towel around his waist before taking off his pants. Imaginary or not, he didn’t want anyone seeing his “baggage” besides Kaylee. No such luck. Wash whistled. “Wow! I guess that Kaylees real happy with you!”