Chapter 2 It seemed like forever since the crew had been off this rock. Mal had spent the majority of his time in the doc's room, though the two didn't say a whole lot. Simon still was in a good amount of pain, and he wasn't up for much conversation. Most times, Mal would take a seat near the bed, and just stay there until the Simon drifted to sleep. The bandages were still in place. They had to be changed, and the wounds needed cleaned. Even though the "doctor" in town didn't have a license, he was still better at taking care of this kind of thing than anyone one on Serenity. Mal couldn't justify taking Simon back on board when there wasn't anyone who knew what they were really doing, and so the crew waited.

Mal watched as Simon laid in the bed. With much of his face covered, it was hard to see just how bad the scars were going to be. The image of Simon with blood pouring from bone deep wounds was still embedded in Mal's mind. There was no doubt that the doc’s face was going to bear the marks of that day for the rest of his life. Back on the Core, this kind of thing wouldn’t be too much of a problem to fix. With surgeons and well stocked hospitals, they could handle it. With Simon’s status as a fugitive, the Core wasn’t an option. Things were different out on the Border. Out here, the only places to get this kind of surgery were through folk it was best not to know. The price tag on something like that would be more than the entire crew could come up with. He wished there was something more he could do for Simon, but there really wasn’t anything. He just hoped that when the bandages came off, Simon would be able to pull through.

Simon grimaced as he woke up. “What time is it?” he asked softly.

“Round two in the afternoon,” Mal replied. “You hungry?”

“A little.”

Mal nodded. “I’ll get you something. Don’t get too used to eatin’ real food. We won’t have folk with gardens and a mind to share for much longer.”

“Soon it will be back to....what was it you said?.....protein in every color of the rainbow,” Simon quipped.

The captain smiled. “At least there’s good dinner company on the ship....well, when Jayne ain't there." Simon's laugh turned into a moan. "You need something?" Mal asked with worry in his eyes. He couldn't stand to see Simon in pain Simon shook his head. "I don't want to overload on painkillers."

"There ain't no shame in admittin' that you're hurtin'. Hell, I've seen men screamin' over less back in the war."

"Believe me, I'm not afraid to admit that I'm in pain. It's just that I know how addictive those drugs can become, and I won't let that happen." Simon leaned back on the pillows. "Where's River?" "Out exploring with Kaylee. Want me to get her when I get you some food?"

Simon shook his head. "Just come back."

Mal swallowed hard. He really didn't trust himself to say anything to that, so he simply walked away. Guilt was slowly eating away at Mal's gut. How could Simon want him there when it was all his fault? He'd half been waiting for the doc to look at him, and point his finger in Mal's face.

Mal helped himself to Doc Joe's kitchen. Doc Joe had let it be known that they were welcome to whatever he had to share, and Mal would never forget that kindness. He'd find a way to repay it if he could. Taking care of Simon was something that Mal wouldn't forget lightly. His crew meant more to him than anything, and somehow Simon seemed to be getting even closer than that.

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Simon winced as he pushed himself up on the pillows. He couldn't recall ever being in this much pain. The doctor in him looked at pain as a number between one and ten, but this kind of thing really made that thinking seem irrelevant. If only he was back on the Core, he thought bleakly. Then again, if he was on the Core, this wouldn't have happened. And River would be in some lab, his inner voice added. God, he didn't know how much more he could take.

Luckily, Simon didn't recall the blast. He vaguely could remember the pain immediately after. Waking up hadn't been pleasant. Simon had held his eyes shut for a long time at first, trying to will the agony away, and then he felt Mal's hand around his. Even in his condition, he knew who's hands those were. Large and hard and full of strength. Mal had been the one to bring him back into the world of the living in a way. Simon raised his hand to his face, and tried to ignore the sickening feeling in his stomach. He'd always been kind of a pretty boy. Vanity had been something fairly natural for someone like him. The circles that his family belonged in valued appearances, and then later he realized that his face could be an asset in another social setting. Men liked his delicate features. He wondered what he looked like now. He knew that it couldn't be good. The "doctor" had spent a long time cleaning and checking the lacerations on his face. From the feel of it, his entire face had been slashed by the debris flying through the air. The scaring would be significant, and Simon wasn't ready to see it yet. He could see the pity in Mal's eyes and that was bad enough.

When Mal came back in carrying a tray, the captain forced a smile. "Think you're ready to sit in the chair to eat?"

"I think I can manage."

Mal set the tray aside and arranged pillows on the chair. He was surprisingly attentive to Simon's needs, and more gentle than the doctor imagined he would be. The older man was far more compassionate than he appeared to be. Simon only wished that Mal's kindness was out of real feelings than out of pity. If only....