Helpless for a Hero
I do not own Firefly! Thank you so much to soccer-bitch, my darling co-author! Hope you enjoy!
Defeat of Serenity Valley
Rhythmic booms shook the earth and lit the sky. The rat-tat of guns danced around the valley, shooting up tuffs of dirt, wood and flesh. Terrified cries and screams gave the music of the battle, song, loud enough to float over the land for miles. The deathly shrieks of the wounded didn't seem to fit with the song of the battle to Sari Berisford. It didn't have the deaf ringing that the impacting bombs had. She couldn't decide which one she felt an affinity with more. A rusty blood smear marred her cheek, a reminder of her own battle she waged, trying to save a man from a bullet wound in the gut. Her battle was just as messy as the one that raged around her and for now, that was the only one she was focusing on. However, her plan didn't seem to follow her rules. A maniac triumphant scream heralded the arrival of her Sergent, Malcolm Reynolds, his chestnut coat flapping around him as he jumped towards her. His ever present companion, Zoë, gave covering fire as they both jumped into her trench.
"Berisford!" he gave her a bright grin before throwing a grenade over his shoulder to where he was running only moments before. Sari widened her eyes and threw herself over the man's wound. The explosion vibrated through the earth, raining dirt and juicy flesh over them.
"Sergent, I'd rather not have this man get an infection while on my watch," she gave him a wry look. "If you can handle it, how about you try and shoot them first?" Zoë gave her an 'are-you-serious-this-is-Malcolm-Reynolds' look.
He flicked her nose, laughing at her sour look. "Now where'd the fun in that be? Not nearly flashy for the likes of us, Darlin'" she gave him an exasperated look. "Now, now, don't get huffy; there is a reason why we came all the way over here."
Rasing an eyebrow, she turned her attention back to the wounded man. "And here I thought I was getting privileged treatment by being simply graced by your presence."
Mal laughed loudly. "See there, Zoë, I told you there was a reason why I liked this girly here," Zoë rolled her eyes, giving the young girl a sympathetic glance before turning her attention back to the lines. "Seriously, though, I have this bullet wound right here," He pushed his coat back to reveal a bloodstained shirt. Lifting the material up, Sari spied a deep graze on his waist.
"Give me a minute, Cowboy, and I'll patch you up. Just need to sew Morgan up…" the whoosh of heavy artillery was all the warning they got as an air craft zoomed over them. Pulling Sari into his arms, he slammed them into the protective walls of the trench just as the bomb exploded. Shrapnel, dirt, limbs and flesh flew over them, the gargling screams of the dying unable to pierce the roaring bells ringing in the survivors ears. Experiencing weightlessness from not being able to hear, Sari looked dizzily around.
Beside her Malcolm was yelling something at her, shaking her head drunkly; she looked back to Morgan, her patient. His glassy eyes took a while to sink into her mind. But as she realised what it meant, a roaring rush gave her hearing back. The pained screaming and the echoing booms of more bombs being dropped took the backseat as she continued to stare at him.
Malcolm knew what she was feeling, but the Alliance was advancing and they needed to fall back. "Zoë, get her gear," he ordered, before hauling Sari up. "He's dead, Berisford, you gotta let him go." Sari stared at him dazed. Swearing in the galactic language, he pulled her along with him, keeping an eye on Zoë to his left. Bullets rained around them, waking Sari from her stupor. Glad that she was able enough to run on her own, Mal turned around and began firing back, looking over his shoulder, making sure that the two women were aptly running for their command base.
While bullets whizzed by, Mal made sure that Zoë had his flank and the good surgeon was in one piece as they came upon another one of their own trenches. It had been the one where they had last seen each other. It was where she lost her first patient of the war. Mal realized that she was looking around the trench as if it had been only seconds ago that she had lost the patient and not as long as it had been.
"We've got to do this now, while we can," Mal told her as he knew his would need to be dealt with as soon as possible. Sari looked at him not comprehending what he had told her just a short time ago. Mal looked at her. "Sari, listen to me now, you need to get this bullet out me,"
"I-I-" Sari was cut off by another blast and Mal had covered her once again. Would the fighting ever cease? Mal grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.
"Don't let them take your innocence. Do your job, patch me up, hum a tune and when you're done, go back to the command post. Mourn for the dead later." She nodded shakily, grabbing the pack that Zoë had carried with her. He helped her pull his duster off him. Her small cold hands unbuttoned his shirt efficiently and gently pulled the shirt away from the wound. Snagging on a piece that got stuck on the wound, Mal let out a pained groan.
She gave him a soft understanding look. "I have to rip it off the wound, Mal, and its going to hurt a lot." He nodded, tensing as she made ready. Biting her lip, Sari ripped off the offending material, wincing as Mal let out a harsh injured yell. Fresh blood began to pour out steadily. The bullet wasn't deep; in fact she could see it with her naked eye. Grabbing a retractor, she slipped it in, keeping the wound open as she pulled out a pair of large tweezers and yanked out the bullet.
"Gosa," he groaned. "Could you be a little more gentle?" shaking her head, she pulled out the retractor and began stitching the wound.
"Do you want webbing?" she looked up at him with caring eyes.
"Yeah," Mal breathed slowly as the pain of Sari ripping a bullet out of his waist slowly faded. As Sari applied the webbing to Mal's waist, she tried not to let her thought wonder. This was a war they were in. No one had time for distractions. Especially not Malcolm Reynolds. He was a hero to many of the wounded soldiers and so was Zoë, who was watching their backs as she worked as fast as she could to patch him up.
Mal looked into Sari's eyes when she looked up after applying the webbing. War time. Flying Bullets. Bombs. Those were the thoughts that were constantly on Mal's mind, but other things did come and go. As he went to speak, his second in command, Zoë, started shooting interrupting the almost moment that could have been. "Time to get you to the command post, Darlin', we'll see you soon." Before she could say anything else, he raced from their cover, screaming and hollering, shooting his pistol expertly. Using the distraction, she jammed everything back into her pack, planning on cleaning it all later. Her jacket flapped against her beige suede pants. Bullets zipped past her head. Ducking low, Sari slipped in and out of the covering rocks, making her way to higher ground. The twenty one year old woman's heart pounded and adrenaline raced through her veins.
Finally she made it to the post. The stench of blood and gun powder was cloying in the air. Rushing to immerse herself into work, she was dully aware that Zoë and Mal had burst in behind her.
"-Cause we are so very pretty," drifted over to her. Sari closed her eyes momentarily, revelling in the sound of Mal's voice. Opening them quickly at the sound of aircraft, she bandaged the wounded and looked over at Mal. Giving Sari a bright smile he turned back to Zoë. Her crestfallen face gave him a feeling of unease.
"They aren't coming sir," Zoë reported.
"Wha-?" he gave her an unbelieving look. He stood up, staring at the sky. Sari walked over to him, her eyes captivated by the large amounts of Alliance vessels dropping out of the sky. Looking at the devastation of land and the loss of life. They had been defeated. How many had survived? A handful, maybe less? What would they do now? Command was gone. They weren't coming with reinforcements nor were they going to be rescued. They were screwed in every sense of the word and it didn't matter how many brothers and sisters they lost, because in the end their sacrifice wasn't enough.
Mal sighed and looked to his second. Zoe had hopes for after the war and now that this war had ended, the hopes were gone. How in the hell were the they supposed to get out of this one? Mal shook his head as he looked back at the devistation to Sari, to Zoe. He would be the strong one. He knew Zoe would complain, but it was heart wrenching to know that the Alliance had out done them. Maybe one day, the Alliance would be getting what was coming to them in a package that would surprise even them.
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