simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

The ship isn't really any quieter than usual, he tells himself.

It's the truth: at this hour of ship's night, in their bunk with the door closed, it's always this quiet. There's the constant low hum of the engine, and the almost subliminal vibrations through the floor of River moving quietly about in her room across the hall, and little else. When there's no crisis aboard the ship, this level of quiet is normal.

It doesn't change anything.

Simon sits on the edge of the bed, his forgotten shirt hanging loosely from one hand, and stares at the far wall.

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It's a couple of minutes before Kaylee wanders in. Simon gets a smile -- absent, but fond -- before she stoops to take off her boots.

Kaylee gets a smile too, heartfelt but fading quickly.

One-and-two -- boots tucked just under the bed. Kaylee sits beside him, running a hand over his shoulder, looking at him, head tilted, half-smile a cross of concern and consideration.

Simon leans into her hand, a little, and sighs.

"I was hoping to talk to Bernard earlier," he says.

He has a tendency to start conversations in the middle at the best of times. Right now he's distracted and tired, which only heightens the effect.

Distracted and tired, and maybe a little preoccupied.

Kaylee kneads his shoulder with her thumb, a little. "Mm?" An invitation to continue.

Maybe a little.

"He wasn't in the bar. Maybe I should have ... I don't know, gone and knocked on his door."

He's shaking his head even as he says it.

Quietly, she asks, "Why?"

A pause, and Simon looks at Kaylee as though noticing for the first time that she's there.

"...Bernard was there when the fight happened. He's not exactly happy with all of us right now."

"Don't expect he would be." Frank, wry, a little dark.

"He's consistent, I'll give him that."

Simon finally puts down his shirt, and leans down to take off his socks.

Kaylee watches him, hands in her lap.

After a moment:

"How bad is it? With Bernard?"

Simon's hands stop moving, and his shoulders sag a little.

"Ai ren ... I don't know."

"Should I talk to him, maybe?"

She's in charge.

It's...kind of her job.

"...Maybe. He's got no reason to be angry at you."

That's --

"He's got one to be angry at you?"

... he hadn't meant to say that. Aiya.

Simon closes his eyes for a moment.

"I was there, when --"

A breath.

"I said some things."

It's a near-superhuman act not to pinch the bridge of her nose.

(Clearly Kaylee has been hanging around Simon too long.)

"Should I ask what?"

It's a calm enough question.

"...Possibly not."

Kaylee is silent for a moment.

"You going to tell me?"

Also calm enough.

"Not that you got to. But if I'm gonna talk to him -- might help to know what it was you said made him mad."

A long silence.

Finally, just over a whisper: "Of course you're right."

...the word here is 'ouch'.

Kaylee rests her hands on his shoulders, and says, very quietly, smiling. "Always am." Beat. "It's gonna be okay. Whatever it is."

I hope so.

He draws a deep breath, and speaks, his eyes on his hands.

"I told you Niska was stabbed. Lost quite a lot of blood."

Kaylee says, still quiet, "Yeah."

"He'd lost consciousness, by the time Bernard was ready to take the others back to the cells. And I was coming up to find out what was going on, just as Bernard was looking around for ... for a doctor."

His face is pale and strained, as is his voice.

There are several possibilities. Some more fantastical than others. Some worse than others.

Kaylee keeps her hands on his shoulders, and her eyes on his face, and listens, because speculation and anticipation isn't going to help here. At all.