Mal clanked down Serenities unnaturally quiet catwalks. It had been a long day. A really long day, and all he really wanted to do now was sleepan try to figure it out later. Then he passed the kitchen. Simon was sitting, staring at a cup of coffee like he could divine the future from its implacable, black depths. His normally groomed hair was unusually disheveled and his white shirt marred with stiff, livid, reddish brown stains. Mal stopped and slowly ducked inside. He knew the rest of the crew had been avoiding Simon, and hell he didn’t exactly blame them. He didn’t really want to go in there either. He wasn’t good at this type of thing. “Doc?” he queried. Simon flinched and looked up shock still painted across his face, “Captain?” Mal took a step forward and sat down, “How’re you holdin’ up?” He lowered his gaze back to the coffee and softly said, “I don’t know.” Mal actually understood. No one really knew how to react. He didn’t know how to react. Mal looked down a little uncomfortably and silence bloomed between them like an awkward flower. Then, “ What will I do?...I’ve been asking myself that over and over. I can’t....I can’t go back. To much has changed.” Quietly Mal responded, “Get on with your life. It’s what she would’ve wanted.” For a second, Simon looked like he might cry or yell or something beside this unnerving brooding. But he just said. “I know,” He looked up for a minute and added, “I don’t have much of one to get on with.” Silence. “ What’s left for me now?” “ I guess that’s up to you” said Mal. Then more quietly, “I am sorry Simon.” “I know,” he murmured. Mal looked around uncomfortably for a minute then said, “Listen, whatever you do, I could still use a good medic on this ship.” Simon nodded mutely, and after a minute, Mal left. * * * * * * * * As much as his mind tried to shy away from the days events, he couldn’t. Instead he replayed them over and over, trying to make sense of them. It had all started so simply. They had landed on Janus, a major commercial planet for the rim. Mal had, of course, business to conduct. River had been unusually animated, and had convinced him to take her out to explore the planet. So they had. Traversing the dusty streets and shipping-yards, under the cranes hauling crates to be loaded into the immense ships. He had really been enjoying himself. River had been so excited, dragging him every where, and acting almost like the girl she used to be. Then there had been that moment. She had stopped, and looked at him, and said, “It’s not your moment.” Then she had pushed him out of the way as a net full of crates collapsed on her. Right where he had been standing. For a moment he had frozen, not quite comprehending what had happened. Then he’d been pulling the crate off of her, tuning out the noise and panic around him. She’d been completely buried. When he finally found her, she was barely alive. Her body had been crushed and mangled by the impact and weight of the crates. “Simon,” she croaked as he knelt beside he. “Don’t talk,” was all he managed to choke out, “I think your ribs are broken.” Softly, as her eyes began to glaze, she said, “I’ve been broken for a long time.” Then she had gone, her eyes staring off into space. His memory was clouded with shock after that. He remembered people shouting and noise and movement and somehow they had ended up back on Serenity, with her body cooling in the infirmary. Simon didn’t want to think about that, but this time it was his body that betrayed. It pushed him up and away from the table and is cooling coffee and took him to the infirmary. The lights were on, illuminating every horrific inch of her maimed body. She just lay there, like a broken doll, staring empty-eyed at the ceiling. Shaking, Simon closed her eyes and touched her hand. It was so cold, so dead. The floor was suddenly rushing to meet him, as his tear finally found release and washed him into unconciousness.