simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

When Simon steps back into Milliways, running a hand over his face, it seems impossible that only one night's gone by.

He takes a deep breath, in and out, and heads for the bar. A cup of coffee to keep him awake another few hours at least, and then back to Serenity to give the complete explanation. What he told Zoe wasn't nearly enough.

...Maybe he'll take the coffee back with him.

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Kaylee's over in a booth, nursing a cup of tea, damp-haired, puffy-eyed, and radiating satisfaction -- if not cheer.

Too early in the morning for cheer.

It really is.

Simon catches sight of her as he turns from the bar, mug in hand.

He stands still for a split second, then starts in her direction, slowly picking up speed.

She glances up with the beginnings of a (sheepish) smile.

His own smile isn't sheepish; it's tired, and marked with recent strain.

She doesn't know yet. Not even what he told Zoe; her hair's wet, which probably means she stayed here last night. A crumb of relief, there; it means she hasn't been worrying.

"Hey, ai ren," he says quietly.

"...you didn't worry, did you? I figured you'd be out late -- "

"...No. No, I ... I wasn't worried."

He says it as reassuringly as he can, and takes the seat across from her, hands wrapped around his mug.

"I didn't get back in last night at all. There was a, a ... something happened, at the event."

It could be any one of a number of things.

The possibilities flit through her mind -- somebody said something, River didn't do well, they ran into somebody -- and her expression says it: Oh lord, what now?

A breath, and his voice is flattened and tight.

"Someone tried to kill my father."

That wasn't one of the possibilities she'd considered.

"Tried to," she says, carefully; she's drawn in a little, gotten a little more watchful.

"He's alive," he says immediately, his gaze rising to meet hers.

And falling again, as he continues: "He, he was badly injured, but ... he's alive. Stable. He's resting comfortably."

The words sound flimsy, inadequate.

He's talking like a doctor.

Which -- that's fine, if it's anybody else. But it's not anybody else.

A moment passes.

Then, quietly: "Let's take this outside. Nobody'll be around." Kaylee starts to edge out of the booth.

Simon hesitates, then nods and gets up to follow her.

(He hasn't drunk any of his coffee yet.)

The rock she avoids; the swing is down by the shoreline; the shoreline is free of debris.

There's a little bit of a chill in the early-morning air; the sun hasn't burned the haze off the water yet. It's quiet.

"Is he out of the woods?"

She breaks the silence.

"Yes," he says, and there's certainty in it. "If he weren't ... I don't know if I'd be here."

A beat.

"River's still with him," he adds. "Back on Londinium. She didn't want to leave, and ... there didn't seem to be any reason to make her."

Kaylee nods.

And says, quietly, and extremely calm: "Who did it?"

Simon shakes his head. "We don't know yet."

His hands curl around the coffee mug, precise and steady in their movements.

"I think Crowley has some idea, but ... we haven't discussed it."

"No time yet?"

It's right about now when Kaylee's missing Mal so much it hurts.

Mal can think about these things and be calm.

"No time yet," he agrees quietly. "I didn't ... I didn't want to get distracted."

Carefully, he lifts the mug and takes a slow sip.

She watches him.

After a moment: "How's River?" Beat. "How's your mother?"

His tone's too calm when he answers. "Well, they're both very distraught. I don't, ah ..."

He stops talking then, and starts again with a deliberate effort.

"My mother ... I don't think I've ever seen her this -- this helpless before."

Kaylee nods.

"What do you want from me?"

He glances up swiftly, and the thin shell of calm is cracking; something peers through from behind it, something that wails please tell me this isn't happening.

A slightly shaky inhalation, and he says "Help me tell the others? To start with."

Her focus sharpens on his face, and she nods again. "All right." Quiet, capable, almost gentle. "Back home, you mean. Anywhere else?"

Her voice steadies him, a little.

"Back home, yes. And ... we might want to send a wave to your parents. They may have heard about this on the news already."

He's trying to think if there's anyone else.

"I'll do that."

"Do me a favor?"

"...Yes?"

"When you go back. Don't any of you go anywhere unless Crowley's with you."

He nods at that, immediately.

"I don't know if we'd have gotten away if it weren't for him, last night. Him and Galadan."

Very carefully: "We?"

Simon pauses.

"I don't know if they were after the family too, or just Dad. It may not have made any difference, once we were trying to get him out of there."

"Until you know," she says, softly. "Crowley. Please."

"We will," he promises. "And I don't think we'll be going anywhere public even with him."

"...here's where I'm tryin' not to point out that if they're real determined, public won't matter."

Kaylee looks out at the water.

(They've been here before. She knows better than to press it by now.)

"How are you gettin' back?"

"Someone will come through. Probably my mother, or Galadan."

A pause.

"And if there's a second attempt, if there's even a hint of a second attempt, I'm bringing my father back here."

She nods.

"How much time before they come for you?"

"It won't be until late evening."

He rubs a hand over his eyes, and adds: "I haven't slept. I'll need to ... will you wake me if there's a wave?"

Another nod. "Yeah." Soft.

Simon's hand lowers from his forehead, and instead of returning to cradle the mug, reaches out for hers.

Her grip is immediate, solid.

His is hard, and trembling minutely.

"We should go tell the crew," he says finally.

"You sleep. I'll do it."

Softly: "Xiexie ni, xin gan."

He starts to get to his feet, still holding her hand.

She follows, a little more slowly and carefully.

They start back towards the bar together, still hand in hand, moving slowly.

Inside, Simon leaves his barely-tasted coffee on the bartop, feeling vaguely apologetic about it. Later today, he tells himself, he'll come back and leave a note in case anyone ... no, he'll ask Dad first. If there's anyone in particular who should be told what happened.

(What he's not letting himself think about: what could have happened if Kaylee had come with him to the event last night after all.)

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