simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's a little after one in the morning, ship's time, and Simon can't sleep.

In the kitchen, stirring honey into his tea, he finds himself studying the light from the bridge. The crowd at Milliways is too much for right now, but ... some company might be nice.

Mug in hand, he knocks lightly on the doorframe.

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Mal was writing, but the steps walking toward him announced Simon long before the faint knock.

"What's up, Doc?"

If only Lilly's Earth-that-Was lessons had extended into the realm of cartoons.

"Not very much." A half-shrug; his tone's light. "Just another sleepless night, and I thought I'd come see who was on night shift on the bridge."

"Don't think I was supposed to be so much as I ended up here and whoever was took advantage to run and hide," Mal jokes, gesturing to the co-pilot's seat for Simon.

"Get anythin' for Christmas from bar friends?" Mal asks.

Asked specifically in the 'not from people on ship' way, seeing as how Mal didn't precisely spy anyone doing much of the present thing this year.

Simon shakes his head. "Only the present Pa'u Zhaan gave to the whole crew."

"Yeah," Mal nods. "Horrible take this year. Make a note: next year, make friends with rich people."

A pause.

"...You are friends with rich people."

"...Well. Yeah."

Moving on.

"What's keeping you up?"

The brief almost-humor fades, and he glances away.

"It's been happening a lot, since." His tone's determinedly light. "Common stress reaction."

Mal's probably the last person Simon has to explain that to, but he nods.

"Anything new I should be made aware on or just..."

Mal doesn't complete that with 'the usual'.

"Nothing new."

It's not unlike what he said to Crowley, a few weeks back.

"Kaylee and I are talking again," he adds, and there's a small note of ... something too tentative to be relief; too tentative even to be hope.

Without blinking: "And that's what's got you sleepless?"

"-- what? No," he says, not indignant but startled.

"Then...?"

Mal's willing to listen to the man, but he's not a very good guesser.

A pause, and he looks away.

"Just more of the same."

"At least its not nothin' you don't already know what it is?" Mal hazards. "That'd be a comfort to me, anyhow."

"It might," Simon allows, "if I had any idea how to deal with it."

He doesn't say how to fix it, but Mal may know him well enough to hear it anyway.

He does.

"You inhale. Exhaling usually follows."

"We've ... been doing that."

Hurting and coping, as Kate said.

"Good.

"I know that's not helpin' with much. As much as I'd like to read yours 'n Kaylee's minds, that's your sister's job."

Simon's smile at that is unnervingly like one of his sister's: flickering, there and gone.

"I don't know that it would do much good if you could, but I appreciate the thought."

"What would do any good? Seein's how you can't hold liquor 'n all..."

"I've already done that."

And it would be too easy to keep doing it.

And just for a split second, Mal remembers the flask he hasn't carried in his jacket for a good long while.

(Three weeks. That's a stretch, for Mal.)

"I see."

"I just --"

Simon stares down into his tea.

"She says she spoke to you about it. About being angry at me, and not knowing why."

"That she did."

("Figure that boy's fogged up but good.")

"I...Simon, if you're about to ask what she 'n me talked about..."

He's already shaking his head.

"No. No, I wouldn't ask you to do that."

"Xiexie."

Sometimes, captain-crew privacy privleges suck.

"Do have to say, I always thought me 'n Inara would be the one on the outs by now."

"But if..."

Simon looks down again, his forehead knotting.

"Without breaking a confidence," he starts again, "is there ... is there anything ..."

A beat.

"Can I ask you what you think? Outside of, of what you and Kaylee may have talked about?"

"I think..." Mal starts, then stops, exhaling. There's a lot of things to think about on the topic.

"I hope to God I never know what the pain is of losing a child. I'm not sayin' that's all of what's on, with this. It's just -- I never said that to you. Or her. And I have to think that that's something."

His eyes close for a moment.

Distantly: "It would almost have to be."

"Have to be somethin' or have to be all of what's on?"

"Have to be something."

Very carefully, as though for fear it will fall and shatter, he sets his mug of tea aside.

"I don't see how it could possibly be all of it."

Edited 2008-01-14 23:07 (UTC)

"Say true, neither can I. I know that don't help things, though."

"If she's angry at me..."

It's the same three possibilities he brought up when he first discussed it with her.

"It's either because of something I did that she didn't want me to, or something she wanted me to do that I didn't. Or else it's something that has nothing to do with me at all."

"I can tell you the same thing I told her, if you want."

Without waiting for a reply, "You don't have all the answers. Whether she thinks you should have or not isn't the point; there was a time where you had all the puzzle pieces in the 'verse. Which I always thought was bizarre seein's how when you met you were on the run from the law.

"She expects answers from someone about something that she can't articulate to nobody, least of all herself."

That gets Simon to look at him, bewildered.

"I ... I don't think I follow you."

Mal sighs, vaguely helpless. "It took me a couple o' weeks to get that far."

The book in Mal's lap seems to be very interesting -- buying himself some time -- but he resists looking out into the black. He is not being avoidant, so much as --

Brightening considerably, struck with an idea.

"Think it's like River, actually. All the pieces are there. Just the formations have problems."

Finally: "Womenfolk are difficult. Ask Inara."

Like River.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm losing my mind, Kaylee said.

"Maybe all the pieces are there," he says, "but I don't know what half of them are. And I can't ..."

His lips press together for a moment.

"It's difficult to talk about it."

"How did you two manage to talk to each other before getting hitched?"

That was always more of a mystery to Mal than what happened after.

Simon gives Mal an indecipherable look. "Sometimes I wonder."

A beat.

"I didn't mean to each other, though."

"Oh."

"You try anybody 'fore you tried me?"

"Not really. Not about this."

Means either Simon needs friends, or he has them already.

Not even your ba?

"Sorry I can't help more than I am."

"I don't know how to talk about it without --"

He picks up his mug again. "Méi guānxi."

"I can be a shēn shì when I want to."

True enough, even if delivered with a smirk.

"I appreciate it."

He drinks his nearly-cold tea, and stares out at the stars, and tries not to think about the words he won't say.

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