He first became aware of his own heartbeat. In the stuffy sensory deprivation of the cryo box, that was almost all Simon could feel.
Then the nausea. The hunger. The sweat, chilling his corpsified skin.
Had it been days? Minutes, since the ambush? And...more importantly...who had ambushed him?
I need to get out.
The calmness, which had been with him for so long, began to morph into terror.
It was hard to move anything - the box was tight, and so were his muscles - but Simon reached over with his left hand to feel his right arm. After a second, he found the pucker in the skin where the hypodermic needle had done the damage. The syringe must have had insulin in it...the hormone that makes tissue absorb more glucose, he thought. When the brain doesn't get enough, this is what happens….
Simon hadn't come as close to death as being in a cryo box would imply; he had been forced into a relatively shallow coma, and someone must have recently treated him with glucose. But the pain was as though hundreds of days, bereft of foodstuffs, had come to pass.
Thank god…. Whoever had kidnapped him needed more than a brain-addled ex-corpse. They needed information. Although why they had not induced a coma through other, less risky means remained a mystery to him.
Well, if more than four days had elapsed since the ambush, Simon would have died. It doesn't feel or sound like I'm on a ship anymore. Who can say how fast my captors were capable of going, but I can make a half-decent guess. So...what planets were within four days' travel?
The coma had definitely dulled Simon's head, but the surge in adrenaline was steadily bringing him to. No - none of that matters right now. If I make enough noise, someone may check on me…. I can catch them by surprise and make a run for it, I just need to muster enough energy.
Just!
Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Few thoughts came to his attention and fewer still were of any consequence.
Finally Simon heard the thunk of standard issue Alliance boots...; they seemed to be coming rather than going. Thunk... Thunk. THUNK. A pause.
He drew a deep, determined breath and started to pound on the lid of the cryo box, crying out as loudly as his dry throat would let him. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" he bellowed repeatedly - until it occurred to him to tone down the volume of his yells to sound weaker. Simon needed his discoverer - or discoverers, God forbid - to underestimate his physical danger.
Thirty seconds passed and his hopes, though still absurdly high, began to decline. Either no one had heard, or no one had paid him any mind.
Then Simon heard a muted voice. Two muted voices, conversing furtively and near at hand.
"Sir, it appears a cryo patient has woken earlier than expected. Will you permit me to remove him from storage so he can be dealt with?"
A lot more distressing than the woman's ironic use of the word "patient" was the phrase "dealt with." It could involve the blue-hands men still chasing after River - nay, it was more or less guaranteed. Still, better an unprepared woman open Simon's cryo box than one of the menacing men themselves.
Please, please, please let him say yes.
"Yes, alright; just be careful if he starts having seizures. This one wasn't put under the usual way - the transactor couldn't get his hands on any Byphodine, had to improvise."
Before ten seconds had even passed someone undid the latch on the box's lid and hefted it upwards, flooding the interior with harsh light. It hurt. But rather than shielding his eyes, Simon fought the impulse and shot up onto his feet, grabbing the woman's shoulders for stability and then jabbing his fingers behind her collarbone.
She collapsed in a fit of agony.
Even in the bright, searing light, Simon could tell there were no witnesses to his assault. The Alliance woman's superior had already departed, unsuspectingly assured of her safety while escorting a "cryo patient." And now the gray-clad woman lay incapacitated on the floor, clutching her neck and moaning quietly.
Simon paused for a moment, lost as to his next move, then picked the woman up and heaved her into the cryo box, closing the latch on her. The pity he felt was fleeting, as her co-workers would likely come looking for her in the following hours.
After his vision had adjusted to the murky lighting, Simon took a look around - he was surrounded by rows of cryo boxes in a short-ceilinged room, dim and cold and clearly uncared-for. The door had been left slightly ajar, the door of an office staring from directly across the hall. He couldn't make out the door's plaque, but this was obviously a government building, perhaps part of a larger complex.
Simon stepped weakly over to the door and knelt, peeking out.
A/N: This story takes place after the show's events and disregards anything that happens in Serenity. Hope you like it! I'll continue the story if enough people show interest in it.