Randomly posting a few things... This one was written...uh...last year or the year before as a gift in a christmas exchange. Gen Mal and Simon, with a little sprinkling of Simon/Kaylee.

Disclaimer: Joss is Boss.

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Keep the Faith

Faith.

Everything you ever believed in can be placed into such a tiny object. One thing that means everything. One thing that isn't even alive. Because you'd think that things that aren't alive can't do you any harm. They can't betray you. They can't let you down. Like the cross that's packed away deep under a pile of clothes in the cabinet. Or the gun that's strapped to your hip, a reassuring heavy weight. But the cross burns and the gun's weight just drags you down. Until you're not sure you're what you wanted to be anymore when everything is all cut and dry.

He feels the fool. With the cross held tight in his hand, fingers curled around it so hard that it presses and indents his skin, a sharp corner giving a shallow pinprick. It's the first time he's picked the little scrap of metal up in over six years. He doesn't know why he kept it. If somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew he'd need it for a moment like this. If somewhere deeper he'd remembered to keep the faith. If it was just simple desperation...

Right now it's desperation. That has him lifting the cross to his lips and whispering out a prayer in the dark of his bunk.

Please, please, let them be okay...

One week earlier...

He didn't ask how Wash had done it this time. That man had the uncanny knack for bartering and bargaining. The reason why Mal always sent him out to stock up on the supplies, Wash got them for cheap and didn't try to hide the change from Mal. Now this time he'd managed to bring in some fresh real food along with the protein. Nothing that would last but even a bit of actual meat, which Kaylee cooked up along with Wash and Mal caught sight of the pilot giving the girl a few strawberries. So maybe Wash did hide some of the change from him. Mal was fairly sure that that beret in Zoe's hair was new as well.

He could let some things slide though. Today he had himself a happy crew and he wasn't about to spoil it. The smell of fresh food drifting through the ship always seemed to bring it out in everyone. That good mood that turned everyone social and had them all congregating into the galley to take their seats early and nag at Wash and Kaylee to cook faster. Jayne kept sneaking in for little tastes, swiping his finger through the pot of sauce that Wash was stirring and earning himself the hard edge of a wooden spoon across his hand. Mal had to break up the impending fight before Jayne could get his hands on the pilot.

It was just another good evening and Mal was going to take advantage of it. Sitting back at his spot at the table and watching the others joke and talk and threaten each other. Dishes loaded down with food were handed out with a flourish from Wash and Kaylee and Mal wondered if that little flicker of jealously he caught in Zoe's eyes was imagined or not.

"Hey!" Kaylee's voice broke out louder over the chatter and stilled everyone for a moment. "Someone's gotta get, Simon." Her eyes fixed on Mal and he stared back at her for a beat.

"...What? Oh, fine. Nobody touch my plate. Jayne!" he snapped out as Jayne's hand was already reaching across the table. It got another rap across the knuckles from the spoon that Wash was still wielding.

"I'll protect it, captain."

Mal rolled his eyes at the instant bickering and turned to walk out of the galley, letting the noise fade behind him though it never really disappeared. Pleasant noise behind him and unsettling quiet in front of him, Mal felt like he didn't want to take another step forward once he got into the corridor that lead to both the infirmary and Simon's room, sure that the doctor would be holed up in one of them.

His eyes widened to find the good doctor collapsed on one of the sofa's by the infirmary, looking more pale ashen than normal. Mal was to Simon's side in a moment, not even sure if Simon were conscious as he laid a hand over his shoulder. The touch got him an unhappy noise though and Simon rolled his head against the back of the sofa before opening his eyes. As unfocused a gaze as Mal thought he'd never see on the boy. There was a burst of laughter from the galley behind them.

"I think..." Simon cleared his throat before trying again. "I think I might have caught something."

"I'll say you have..." Doctor looked like he might be thinking of passing out and Mal raised a hand to press over his forehead, feel how hot he was. Simon wasn't so sick that he couldn't give Mal an amused look at the move. "Right... Well, lets get you to your room, then." Something Simon wasn't going to manage on his own and Mal shifted to slide his arm around Simon's shoulders, intent on helping him there. He stopped when Simon pressed a protesting hand against his chest.

"I was trying to get to the infirmary... For aspirin..."

"Thought maybe you were going for the food." Mal didn't bother to say that he would get what Simon needed for him, just went back to helping the doctor to gain his feet.

"It does smell good..."

"Not that you're looking like you could keep it down."

Simon lent heavily against Mal's side as Mal started easing them towards Simon's bunk. "Ah... That's...another reason I was trying to get to the infirmary." There was definite embarrassment there and Mal realized that red flush wasn't all from the fever. He followed Simon's gaze to where the doctor had gotten himself sick.

"...We'll get Jayne to clean that."

Belief

It starts off so simply. Things usually do. A simple life, on a simple ranch. Spending the day watching the cows graze because there wasn't anything needing doing right at that moment. That's blown away. Literally, and the simple life becomes a simple mission. He knows he can do it. He believes he can. They all can. Another moment where faith and belief didn't get him anywhere.

He still believes that it will all get better. That everything will stay the same, go to normal, or as close as he ever gets. Which probably isn't most people's definition of the word but he'll deal.

He pushes to his feet, hand still clasping the cross, the chain dangling between his fingers. He grabs the bag of necessities he'd gone down their for and heads out of the bunk. He repeats it to himself every step he takes. It will get better.

His steps turn to a run when he hears Kaylee calling for help.

Two days earlier...

"What did you just call me?" Mal did a double take, staring at Simon with what was quickly turning into an accusing glare.

The doctor was situated in his bed, looking too amused, propped up against the pile of pillows that Kaylee had brought in. He still looked haggard and Mal had never thought he'd be holding Simon up while he heaved into a toilet which had happened far too many times over the last few days. Simon still wore a vague shade of embarrassment in everything he did. Which wasn't much, as Kaylee had firmly confined him to his bed, something that Simon had only given in to with grudging agreement. Mal hadn't missed the look of relief that had come into Simon's eyes for an instant though. Just like he wasn't missing that amusement now.

"I said...that you're a mother hen. Both of you." Simon gaze flicked to take Kaylee in as well who was sitting on the edge of the bed at his side.

Mal snorted. "Just makin' sure my doctor don't keel over an' die. Likely the second it happened somebody'd go getting hurt."

Simon nodded, smiling but clearly not agreeing.

"Aw, I like takin' care of someone." Kaylee was all sweet, reaching out to brush back some stray strands of hair. All silky and freshly washed, along with the rest of Simon. Which had been an embarrassment for both Simon and Mal but Kaylee was hardly gonna be the one to help Simon clean himself up once he felt like moving wouldn't send him off sick again. Mal hadn't ever wanted to feel quite that close to his doctor. But Simon looked better for it and the cool water seemed to have eased the persistent fever some. He was still looking too hot and flushed though.

"I feel better. I told you it was likely just a flu."

"You're still stayin' in bed," Kaylee instantly protested, pressing a hand to his chest like Simon was already fixing to get up.

Mal rolled his eyes. "Why don't you let the boy get some rest, Kaylee? Go check and see how Inara's doing with River."

Kaylee hesitated, a look to Simon but he just smiled at her. She hated leaving his side, convinced maybe that something would go wrong or she just really did like fussing over the doc. But Simon kept trying to pretend he was fine when she was there, trying to sit up straighter despite that Mal could see the rings under his eyes and the tight line of his lips. As soon as Kaylee was out of the room, Simon was letting out a sigh and relaxing back against the pillows properly. Sagging was probably a better word for it. When he closed his eyes Mal thought he might have passed out.

"I'm sorry to be a burden..." The mumbled apology took Mal by surprise, looking back to Simon to find the doctor gazing at him.

"Ain't your fault you got sick. Just work on getting better." A shaky breath came from Simon as he closed his eyes again, head turning against the pillow. Mal's eyes widened when he saw the droplets that clung to his eyelashes. "...Get some rest, doc. I'll be back to check on you so I'd better find you sleepin'."

Simon didn't answer but Mal could see his shoulder's shaking. This was beyond him. He hesitated the same way Kaylee did before leaving the boy to his own grief. There was no way to help with this except by getting Simon better. Which Simon said he was... Mal weren't no fool though.

He stepped onto the bridge to two heads turning his way, quiet and somber as the rest of the ship had been lately. Neither Zoe or Wash said anything, just stared back at him with expectant faces.

"How far are we from Greenleaf?"

"'Bout a Three day ride if we push it," Wash responded after a moment of checking the star maps. "There's other's that are closer."

"But none with people on it that owe us a favour." Another place might not take them in and turn a blind eye to who Simon was. Three days might be too long. "Set course. Push it as hard as you can."

"He's getting worse." Zoe wasn't asking no question. Sometimes Mal wished he could yell at her for being so stoic. For making it seem so easy to close herself off and not be bothered by things. For doing what he couldn't and putting up that barrier that protected her. He could use that himself sometimes. 'Stead of getting attached to those he called crew. Even stuck up core doctors...

He didn't bother to answer her, lips tightened to a thin line as he turned to walk away. Of course Simon was getting worse and there wasn't much that Mal could do about it. The infirmary was stocked with supplies to treat injuries, not sickness. They didn't even have anything as simple as an IV for nutrients and Mal had never seen anyone drop as much weight as Simon had over the past week.

Now he could hear the sound of retching again as he approached Simon's room and the infirmary, stopping to close his eyes. So much for the doctor feeling better. He stepped up the pace, hoping that Simon had at least managed to hit the bucket this time. But that wasn't coming from Simon's room and he stopped in his tracks at the door to the infirmary.

"Kaylee... Rutting hell..."

He stepped quickly over to the sink to help her.

Symbol

The gun is still strapped to his hip as he goes into this. Like he goes into everything. Like anything that he usually does will work here. He can take things as they come, face them head on and shove them down if they don't get out of his way. He has no stomach for problems and complications. Shooting them down works best.

There isn't anything to shoot down here. The gun is as useless a symbol as the cross. It's nothing more than a heavy weight at his side while the cross is just a sharp pain in his hand. He clings to both as his feet pound down the corridor. Neither symbol lends him the strength that he needs.

Not when he runs into Simon's room and has to breathe life back into the boy.

All he has to do is keep Simon alive for a few more hours.

Twenty-four hours earlier

He put them all under quarantine, not knowing what else to do, just knowing that the rest of the crew couldn't catch this. If he'd had the foresight, he'd never have let Kaylee into this room. It was too late for that now and he'd sealed off this end of the ship, giving explicit instructions for the others to keep away from the three of them. If they needed him, they could get him over the comm. All they had to do was get them to Greenleaf as fast as possible. Faster even.

Mal was collapsed in the corner of the room. He felt fine so far. He should probably go to his and Kaylee's bunks to grab some essentials before he couldn't walk either. He was too busy watching Kaylee and Simon. Girl had herself curled up on the bed against Simon's side, Simon's arm heavy around her shoulder's while he whispered that it would be fine into her ear. And he kept glancing to Mal while he said it, eyes asking for the same reassurance back but Mal couldn't. If the doctor thought it was that bad...

They were still a day out from Greenleaf. Simon looked like he might not last an hour. Doctor was trying to be strong about it though and Mal felt that reluctant admiration that seemed to crop up around the man. Simon didn't complain, not about this or anything else. Had more courage than Mal probably gave him credit for, comforting Kaylee when he was the one on the edge.

Mal felt as useless as anything just sitting back and watching. Best he could do was mother hen them both like Simon had said, getting up at even the slightest cough from Simon to deliver the boy a glass of water off the stand to the side of the room.

"Best appreciate it, doc. Don't go waitin' on just anybody," Mal said with a smile, standing back to watch Simon carefully as he sipped at the water gratefully.

"I'll have to make it up to you then."

"Soon's your up and better, doc. You're getting behind on your chores."

Simon gave a soft chuckle. One that didn't last as Simon's strength left and Mal only just caught the glass before Simon could drop it. Mal turned to set the half drunk glass back down, turning back to find Simon pressing a kiss to Kaylee's forehead before he was looking back to Mal.

"I'm sorry."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Told you before it ain't your fault." Mal reached out to brush hair back from Kaylee's sleeping face. He had to do it to one of them. "We'll be on Greenleaf soon enough. Now follow Kaylee's fine example and go to sleep."

"Mother hen..." Simon mumbled with a smile as he drifted off.

Strength

He can't find the cross. Dropped it at some point and he knows that it's somewhere in Simon's room with him but he can't find it.

The gun and holster are in a heap in the corner. It's too heavy to keep carrying around with him. Strength is gone and all he really wants to do is curl up on the bed where Simon is sleeping because he never woke. Not once. He shakes and twitches but he doesn't wake. Mal wouldn't mind being in that state right now.

It's not even because he's as sick as the two on the bed. He feels fine, one hundred percent. But he just doesn't have the type of strength to bring them back.

He rips the room apart looking for that cross.

He jumps at the knock on his door. Just a tapping but it manages to be firm and he knows who it is.

"Told you no one was to come down here. Ain't you supposed to be takin' care of my ship?" he snaps at Zoe as she's standing in the doorway. She doesn't bat an eye. It makes him bristle but maybe he's just getting a bit of cabin fever. It takes him a second to notice the tray she's holding in her hand.

"Thought you might be hungry." Her eyes flick over to the two unmoving on the bed and there's the concern that he doesn't often see. He always knows it's there though, just foolishly lets himself forget. Bringing food down to him was probably the best excuse she could think of to come down and check on them.

He lets out a sigh and deflates a bit with a nod. "Could use a hand finding something, actually."

Now

He settles cross legged at the foot of the bed, the only place there's any room. They're an hour outside of Greenleaf. Wash had told him they'd be setting down, that he'd been trying to make contact but wasn't getting any reply. Mal figures it'd be some kinda luck to have the one person that can help them be dead or missing or moved on. He doesn't know what he's done to earn this kind of karma.

Two of his youngest being taken down by something he has no power over. He rests a hand over Kaylee's leg but she's just sleeping peacefully. He closes his eyes, presses his lips back to the too long missing cross. He hates how life bends back around to this.

Please, let them be alright.

"Now I think I really have seen everything..."

He starts at the weak voice. Simon is looking down at him, expression amused. Mal can't even bother to be embarrassed, just looks at the cross and holds it tight in his hand.

"Seemed like the thing to do. 'Course you gotta be picking just this moment to wake up and make me look like an ass."

"I don't think that," Simon says softly. Seriously.

"Surprised you're thinking much of anything with how sick you've been." And still is. Simon doesn't look any better. Just awake and there's the pain that comes with that back to his features.

"You look fine."

Mal shrugs. He's always fine. Things like to pass him by and hit the ones he cares about instead. And he can freely admit it. That he cares about Simon. About Kaylee and every other person on this ship. Even Jayne. Wouldn't want to be seeing him down here.

"You shouldn't let me interrupt you..."

Mal hesitates but guesses that appearances and pride don't really matter much right now. With Simon watching he bows his head back to the cross. It feels like forever later when Wash's voice is barking at them through the comm system but Simon's eyes are still on him.

"We're coming up to Greenleaf. Mal? We got contact. Kelly's meeting us on the doc's. Somebody out there still likes us." There's that grin in Wash's voice that Mal hasn't really heard for the last while.

Mal smiles. Lowers his head in relief and just smiles.

It takes Kaylee a day to recover. It takes Simon a few more. The rest of them only have inoculations to worry about, precautions in case the virus did spread. When the three of them are finally allowed to come up from the quarantine, they're all greeted with hugs and grins.

When Simon finally manages to detach himself from River, Mal grabs his arm to pull him aside, out of the crowd that fusses over Kaylee. Mal notices Jayne doing just as much fussing and is silently impressed. Thinks he even saw some relief on the merc's face when Simon stepped up.

"Hey, doc."

Simon smiles at him. "I'd think after all of that you could use my name." He doesn't sound offended, just hopeful.

Mal nods and amends. "Simon. Think you could keep most of this mess to ourselves."

He hates when Simon gets that knowing look. Too smart for his own good. "You mean the cross. That you're still wearing."

Mal brings a nervous hand up to press to his chest and feel the cool of the metal against his skin. It's a clear sign that Simon's part of the crew when he can read the captain so well as the cross is hidden out of view. "Yeah. That."

"Don't worry, Mal. I won't tell anyone. But a belief doesn't make you weak."

"Go on back to the others."

There doesn't need to be a big discussion. Simon still hesitates, looking like he's ready to offer an ear if Mal wants to talk. Instead he just reaches out to squeeze a reassuring hand to Mal's elbow before he goes back to the others. Mal stops him with a word.

"And Simon." Simon turns to him, head tilted, curious. "Next time we get supplies, make sure we're actually prepared for this."

Simon grins and Mal knows that he will. He steps back to the others all smiles while River accosts him with another clinging hug. Mal stands back for a long moment to watch them.

Mal's got plenty of beliefs. His crew. His gun. This ship. Believes that all of them will get him through at the end of the day. But when all of them can't quite do it, he's got to be able to fall back on something.

End