Title: Rescue Me
Summary: River and Simon are kidnapped again. Except this time, it's more serious. Simon escapes within an inch of his life and is rescued by the Firefly crew. Mal and Jayne work to keep Simon safe, while the doc wants anything but.
A/N: Hey ya'll, I'm back! Trying to write a bit more for the summer. I just finished all of Firefly and instantly fell in love with Simon. (He's adorkable!) I really enjoyed the dynamic between Jayne, Mal, and Simon and wanted to highlight that a bit more in this fic. Let me know what you think and Review!
XxxxXXXxxxX
"I'm going to get us out of here, River." Simon gasped into the darkness. He struggled against the ropes that bound him to the steel pipe, digging its screws into his wounded, bleeding back. Who was he kidding? He couldn't see anything. He had no idea what he was going to do next. The only thing he was sure of was that they he had just been beaten within an inch of his life and he had been stuck on this gorram ship for three stinkin' days.
The only thought that kept him going was getting River back to safety. Without that, he would have passed out from sheer blood loss two days ago. Still, he hadn't heard River's voice since yesterday, and even that had just been one of her cries for him to save her. It hadn't been the most reassuring of moments (in all honestly, it send the hairs on Simon's neck straight on end) but it proved to Simon that she was alive. And that was, at least, something to rely on.
Simon struggled futilely against his bounds, wincing as he tested the knot tied around his bruised and rope-burned wrists. His pain-clouded mind became a touch more alert at the looseness of the knot. It looked like the creatures that had captured him had gotten lazy as the long days of torture dragged on (or else, they didn't think he had enough fight in him to break free from the bonds). In either case, Simon proved he had more than enough energy to keep going and wrestled with the ropes until his hands were finally untied.
Simon didn't waste time in thanking whatever gods had allowed him this release, and set to work on the ropes digging into his bare stomach. That knot was far more craftier to pick and it was sometime later before Simon was actually able to shrug them down to his knees to step out of them. Freed, Simon crept quietly to where a sliver of light was streaming through the slats in his underground cell. He peaked one, wide eye through the crack and observed the furry Orc creature that paced the hallway, gun in hand.
Simon tried not to shiver at the sight of one of the creatures that had boosted him and his sister off the planet Serenity had docked at three days prior. It hadn't been a great memory and all those subsequent had been equally crap.
Bracing himself, Simon prayed that other guards weren't present along the other corridors as he launched himself through the wooden door and tackled the Orc to the floor. The creature struggled to catch his bearings, surprised to have Simon's somewhat smaller frame on top of him, but the young doctor beat him to his gun and promptly fired the beam into the Orc's chest. The creature responded by falling limply beneath a shaking and huffing Simon, who had the gun at ready in case the Orc got any ideas about continuing the fight.
Already completely spent, Simon knew he had to act fast and keep moving. That was the trouble with being starved and beaten for the last 72 hours, it didn't allow you to move as quickly as you'd like. Simon weakly dragged the Orc's heavy form into a crevice of the ship and rested by the body momentarily to develop a good escape plan. He had seen only four rooms of the ship, none of them containing his sister. He felt helpless as he looked left and right down the long, winding hallway, feeling the toss of a coin would be a more decisive approach. Unfortunately, all his coins were in his pants, which had been taken with the rest of his clothes, leaving him shivering in his now soiled boxers.
Simon decided right was usually right (right?) and headed down the hallway, leading to a window that looked out into the blackness of space. Simon stopped momentarily by the window to see if he could spot any landmarks as to where they were. It was a longshot, but Simon was surprised to see the gusty, orange planet known as Tripheron beneath them. He knew it to be a habitable but deserted planet where most people were left to die. It would have to do work as the landing spot for Simon and River's escape. That is, if he could find his sister.
Simon cautiously approached each door as if it would be the last thing he would see. Every time he opened it though, no River. That wasn't to say he didn't run into a few Orcs along the way, because, by the time he had reach the end of the long corridor, word had gotten out that he had escaped and was freely roaming the ship. This made searching for River harder, but not impossible, as Simon proved, climbing one of the ladders to the second floor to further his search.
Simon was out of breath as he squeezed himself into the bottom of a nearby food cart to hide from a group of running, heavily armed Orcs. The young man was actually glad he hadn't been fed in awhile because it probably would've been a harder fit had he been five pounds heavier. Once the coast was clear, Simon re-emerged and cautiously approached yet another door, this time marked in red lettering, which had been different from all the rest. The door was heavy but not locked (hard to differentiate in Simon's weakened state). He pushed it open and entered, immediately wrapping his arms around his body in retaliation to the sudden drop in temperature. This place was like a freezer!
Simon blearily squinted against the blowing frost and approached the solid machine in the center of the room with utmost uncertainty. He examined the marvel of a device for a moment, wondering what it was and why it had to be kept in such an odd room. He realized it was connected to a huge block of ice, and Simon tried to make out the thing inside the cylindrical structure. He wiped a bit of frost that was just eye-level to him, and jumped back suddenly at the sight of two, familiar orbs staring back at him in indifference.
"R-River," Simon stuttered in both fear and chill.
"Trlig, glog hopli gurg!" An Orc yelled behind him. Simon's head snapped to attention at the command, learning it loosely transferred to "Put your hands above your head." The doctor had no intention to start obeying though and backed protectively against the ice sculpture that was his sister, wincing as the cold didn't exactly bode well with his back gashes.
Simon looked left and right, in dire need of an escape route. He half-expected Mal to come crashing in, guns a-blazing, just in the nick of time as he'd done in the past. But, Simon realized, that moment passed a long time ago, when he and his sister were being kidnapped and tortured. Simon knew the only chance of him escaping was now, even though it meant leaving River here. He wouldn't be able to rescue her if he was captured again.
As fast as he could muster, Simon darted to the trash compactor in the nearby wall, remembering to tap the "launch" button as soon as the doors shut on his cramped quarters. Simon thanked the genius that had plated the compactors walls with a bulletproof coating, as he could hear the shots being fired at him throughout his ride. The compactor sped up quickly before launching him into a heap onto some, fortunately, padded-feeling trash. Simon knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, and could already feel the grinders heating up to smash the trash into neat cubes for unloading.
Reaching into his last stores of energy, Simon climbed to the top of the compactor, and held on tight to the metal grates that began moving slowly to crush the waste together. The ride was about ten minutes, the entire time with Simon wondering if an Orc was going to roast him at any moment. Once it was over, Simon stepped back into the heap and began trying to open one of the cubes of metal. In thirty seconds, the cube would be launched toward Tripheron and Simon would need some sort of landing support or else risk dying from the impact.
He was able to gather enough leftover stuffing to put into his body-shaped opening before wrapping himself inside of it. Just as he bent the metal inward to ensure some semblance of safety, he felt his stomach dip anxiously with the feeling of being thrusted forward in his little, metal cube. It was a surreal experience to be flying through the air like that, but the anticipation only grew worse and worse as Simon realized any kind of landing from this height would not end pleasantly.
XxxxXXXxxxX
"I-I think I found somethin!" Simon could hear in his foggy daze. He opened his eyes only to shut them immediately at the amount of red that started creeping into his vision. He groaned wholeheartedly, but didn't dare move, knowing a few of his bones had already been broken. This hadn't been the first time he'd woken up since his crash landing, but the passing out, had reminded him that moving had been a very bad decision.
"It's Simon. He ain't lookin' good." It was a deep voice. Gravelly. The words seemed to have been spoken through a sneer, which immediately told Simon it was Jayne Cobb. Simon would normally be annoyed at being found by the austere ape of a man, but at this point, the young man was happy that a knife-happy criminal hadn't discovered him yet.
"Gorram, it looks like his legs been chewed up by all that metal." That was no doubt Zoe. Simon knew none of the other women on board the Serenity would ever be allowed to set foot on a planet like Tripheron.
"Okay, let's move him carefully now." That was Mal, and Simon never thought he would feel so relieved to hear the captain's voice. Still, the sound of "move" brought a whole new ball of terror to Simon's mind, causing him to open his eyes, despite the risk of them being drown in pools of blood.
"N-no!" Simon let out a strangled objection. The three crew members looked at their young doctor in shock, thinking that he would be passed out from the obvious blood loss. "No… move. P-please…"
"Sorry, doc, but it's not as if we can float you onto the ship, now is there?" Jayne replied, the quickest to overcome his initial surprise. If Simon were coherent, he would have cast the older man one of his infamous frowns, complete with furrowed eyebrows. Instead, he substituted for groaning in protest.
"We'll lift you out nice and easy like, Simon. I'm sorry, but we can't stay on this planet for much longer." Mal said in soothing tones to the younger man. Simon nodded in understanding, realizing he would just have to suck it up and try not to let his screams draw too much attention from any lurking visitors. Opening his eyes to find solace in Mal's expression, Simon realized that they were in a less than favorable area of the Tripheron planet. Not that the planet had been some five-start resort in the first place.
"On three." Zoe said, and Simon felt her hand grasp his own. "One…" The metal was bent open and Mal and Jayne grasped underneath his shoulders and legs. "Two…" The men adjusted their grips in ready. "Three!"
Try as he might to hold it back, the cry ripped through his lips with such fierceness, it surprised Simon himself. He had Zoe's hand in a near strangle hold and quieted down a bit when Mal's hand came to clamp over his mouth. All four of them had remained still. Simon's mind was still boggled with the renewed agony coursing through his body, but the others were more preoccupied with the noises of the twigs around them snapping and shifting.
They were about to be attacked.
Suddenly, a furry, balding creature was roaring at them and descending from a tree towards them at an alarming rate. Mal was quick to throw all of Simon's dead weight into Jayne's arms, eliciting a sharp cry from the doctor. Zoe and Mal began firing shot after shot at the creature and to the others still skulking in the brush.
"RUN!" Mal cried to Jayne, who grunted in response and began hauling the hefty weight in his arms toward the open ship doors. Simon could make out past Jayne's shoulder the sight of Zoe and Mal shooting beam after beam into the forest while backtracking towards the ship. Simon let the sound of Jayne's heavy breathing distract him from the immense pain in his leg and the feelings of discomfort being carried offered him.
Once they finally arrived onto the familiar, metal plated deck of their quaint vessel, Jayne set Simon down with a grunt on a nearby cot before grabbing his shotgun to assist Mal and Zoe in the ambush. Simon could only listen to the shots being fired and hope that they would come out the winners in the battle on Tripheron. Thankfully, the sounds of three pairs of footsteps dashing onto the main deck met his ears then the familiar buzzing as the deck doors shut completely on that evil world.
"Wash, get us up in the air!" Mal cried out into the massive ship. Simon could hear a faint "Aye-aye!" in response, and looked up to see his three rescuers looking at him with mixtures of concern and anxiety. Judging by their expressions, it was obvious Simon looked as bad as he felt.
"C'mon, why don't we get you cleaned up, Tan," Mal began.
Simon could only blink at him dully. His vision was starting to turn blurry before finally the image of Captain Reynolds was burned into the blackness of sleep.
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"Well, I didn't believe you when you said you had some medical training in the war, but I'd say you did a pretty good job." Simon could make out the voice of Jayne, but that wasn't the thing disturbing him most from his sleep. It was the feeling of wet all around him. It could be the throbbing in his head, but it felt like he was submerged partways in cold water…
Simon opened his blue eyes drowsily, trying to adjust his sight to the lightened scene around him. The young doctor switched to full attention when he discovered that he was, indeed, in the tub and in the company of both Mal and Jayne. Oh, did he mention that he wasn't wearing any clothes?
"Ah!" Simon exclaimed alarmed, pushing his back against the porcelain tub (and irritating the massive bruise there, in consequence).
Mal and Jayne turned to him in surprise. Mal regained a hold on his arms to keep Simon from going under. "Whoa, whoa, take it easy, Simon. It's just us."
"Right, I-I'm sorry." Simon muttered, putting his hands up to signal to Mal that he didn't need his help. When Mal released his hold on him, he saw for the first time the work that Mal had done to tend to his wounds. He had several wrappings around his arm and one round his head. The most noticeable work was the casing engulfing his leg, which was propped up against the edge of the tub. Even with these new developments, Simon was still keenly aware that he was naked in front of the two men, which made focusing on his new dressings hard to accomplish.
"Don't worry about it," Mal assured, with his small, familiar smirk. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."
Simon flicked his gaze up at Mal. "Still…" he pointed his eyes toward Jayne. "I'd appreciate whatever little dignity I have left."
Jayne just rolled his eyes but Simon saw Mal had a flash of hurt in his eyes at the statement. Clearly, the captain hadn't meant to embarrass Simon, but the younger man didn't see it that way. Mal averted his eyes as he stood from his position from the side of the tub.
"All right then," Mal said, taking a bundle of clothes from Jayne's hands and pointedly averting his eyes from Simon. "Here are some clothes. Most of your wounds are fine now but you'll have that cast on for a couple of weeks. Jayne and I will be right outside the door if you need us." Which you probably will. Mal thought bitterly at the near invalid young man.
Simon's face was somber as he nodded and watched the two men shut the door to the community bathroom after them. The doctor felt guilty he hadn't at least thanked Mal for treating his wounds, but busied himself with getting out of the tub to begin dressing himself. This was much easier said than done, Simon found, as he used his already spent stores of energy to maneuver his dripping wet body (and casted leg) out of the bathtub. This resulted in a lot of spilt water and Simon almost cracking his head open from falling off the rim of the tub. Fortunately, he maintained his balance on the rim and was able to lower himself to the cold tile, next to the bundle of clothes left behind by Mal.
Simon immediately tried on the new pair of boxers, struggling a bit to get them over his cast, but finally succeeded with an almighty tug. Next, he picked up the shirt but scowled at the article Jayne had apparently picked out for him. The shirt featured a cartoon cat and mouse from one of old Earth's children shows. Seeing no other options, Simon reluctantly pulled it over his head and onto his torso. Now, the pants. Simon had no clue how he was expected to pull the corduroy slacks over his bulky appendage, and had half the mind to take scissors to one of the pant legs.
With one failed attempt, Simon finally resorted to calling out to the two men waiting outside the door. He didn't look up at them as they entered nor when Jayne helped him get to his feet, his balance wavering considerably from the tilt of his cast.
Jayne and Mal lead him precariously out of the room to sit on the bed he and River had shared underneath the main deck. The room's familiar scent and beige walls brought back the memory of his sister and the feeling of longing felt like a heavy weight on his chest. Simon could feel the lump growing in his throat but didn't dare let any tears fall while the captain and Jayne were present.
"Okay, you'll be staying here with Jayne tonight," Mal started, immediately piquing Simon's attention.
"E-excuse me?" Simon asked, letting the thought of staying in the same quarters as the big oaf overtake the ones of his captive sister.
"Don't worry. I don't snore… Much." Jayne said from his position on the far side of the room. He was tinkering with some of the items on the dresser, a lone act that told Simon he didn't want the man near any of his or River's belongings.
Mal sat down on the other side of Simon, depressing the mattress under his weight. "It's only for a few nights. You have a major concussion and a likely case of PTSD from the amount of torture you sustained. We just want to make sure you're okay."
Simon knew everything that Mal was saying was clinically right, but socially, he and Jayne were likely to kill each other at the first chance they got.
"Can't you have someone else watch me then?" Simon asked, hoping he didn't sound too much like he was whining.
Jayne grunted but Mal looked thoughtful. "Sorry, but Shep and Kaylee took Inara's shuttle to search for the ship that has your sister, and I need Wash and Zoe in the control deck."
Simon felt a surge of emotion in his chest at Mal's words. "So, you are still looking for her?"
"Yes, we are. They cover their tracks well, but we're not going to stop until we find them." Mal said, looking seriously into Simon's eyes.
Simon looked away, asking the question he already knew the answer to. "Where were they taking us?"
Mal sighed, looking very tired. "Probably the federal lab where you two escaped from." Simon screwed up his face at the insinuation. "We'll try to get to her before they make it there."
Simon opened his mouth to ask another question but Mal cut him off. "Let's just get you to bed. Jayne here is gonna wake you up every hour to make sure you're all right, so try to get as much rest as you can."
The younger man nodded and Mal helped him get settled into the bed. He watched Mal leave after he covered him with the threadbare blanket and Simon rolled over, his back away from Jayne, who was cleaning his weapons on the corner table. It was a trying task, but Simon finally lulled himself to sleep, trying to come up with a way to quicken the process to locate River.
XxxxXXXxxxX
Simon hated life right about now. He was almost starting to prefer his previous accommodations on the Orcian ship, being tortured for hours at a time, to the incessant badgering of Jayne and Mal.
His first night on the ship had been a painful ordeal with Jayne waking him up every hour to ask the thickest questions like, "What is the state gun of the planet Yiyiluth?" When Simon answered that he didn't know because the questions were supposed to be basic, Jayne would argue that it had been a very basic question. The second night hadn't been any better, with Jayne snoring like a dump truck on the other side of the room.
His days weren't spent any better though. Yesterday, Jayne had parked him on the shuttle deck because he was tired of looking after him (and he Jayne). Simon thought it would be an all right situation because Wash was pretty inattentive, so the young man was fairly sure he could sneak off to do some research on the ship holding River. No such luck. Wash appeared to have been threatened by both Mal and Zoe because anytime Simon made an attempt to move from his chair, Wash was quick to try and distract him with something menial.
Today was probably the worst. Simon was stuck spending the whole day in the kitchen where Jayne had laid out his entire arsenal for cleaning. The man would go on and on about his guns, and Simon only found relief from the incessant babbling by sketching all that he could remember from his time on the Orc's ship in his journal. So far he had rough pictures of the creatures, their torture tools, and the container housing River. Mal entered a short while later to talk with Jayne.
"Jayne, can I talk with you in private for a minute," Mal asked the man, who paused his barrel polishing to meet Mal.
"Mal, I want to show you my sketches. I think they could be of use to you in your search." Simon told Mal, who seemed distracted.
"Right, Simon, I'll take a look later." Mal lead Jayne into the hallway and the door slid shut after them.
Simon watched the two warily from his position in the kitchen. He grabbed his crutch that was leant against the table and stood wobbily. He had gotten a bit better traveling with his bad leg, and he contemplating spying on the two men but realized this was probably his only moment to escape. He had to get to the clinic.
Even with his skillfulness on the crutch, Simon found it very laborious to limp his way all the way from the kitchen to the clinic. He was panting heavily when he finally arrived in the bright setting of his "office." He noticed that his tools were scattered every which way since Mal had been the one treating him. Simon was actually thankful that Mal hadn't done any cleaning up, because he could take a better look at the Orcian shrapnel that he'd extracted from Simon's leg.
Stepping closer to one of the silver trays, Simon lifted the gauze covering it and nearly blanched at the sight of all blood-soaked shrapnel. His blood. Didn't those two oafs know anything about sanitation? Simon carefully brought the tray over to the sink and began washing off the metal pieces.
Slowly but surely, he was able to connect some of the pieces into a shape that resembled a half-crescent. Simon peered at it quizzically, trying to read the odd script etched into it. Finally, Simon to simply pull out his sketch book and make a rough drawing of it. He knew for a fact that Mal and Jayne would be looking for him soon, and he didn't want them knowing-
"Care to explain what you're doing down here, doctor?" Simon heard Mal ask. He turned to see the taller man, his arms crossed and his face set in a frown.
Simon would not be intimidated, and shut his sketchbook, stuffing it into his back pocket. "Apparently, what you were just doing: excluding others from their plans."
"Look here, Jayne and I were discussing business," Mal defended.
"The kind of business involving River?"
Mal was a terrible liar and plainly looked away before saying, "That's none of your business."
Simon set his jaw firmly. "You can't expect me to just sit around and wait for you to find her. She's my sister."
"Clearly, you don't understand the situation. You're a wanted fugitive. Any research you try to do will send alarms to every Alliance ship in the'verse. They'll be on our tail faster than you can spit."
"Damn the Alliance!" Simon yelled suddenly. "It's my choice if I look for my sister or not."
"It's not when you're using resources on my ship. My ship, my rules. And right now, I'm telling you to stand down for River's protection as well as yours."
Simon gave Mal a hard stare before turning away in defeat. He was becoming ill just by standing and arguing with the older man. Once he sunk onto the exam table in exhaustion, Mal was wuick to offer help.
"I'm fine. Can you just leave me alone for five minutes? Just five." Simon said in clipped tones. Mal nodded, still reproachful, but left to stand outside the door. He wasn't going to leave Simon in his state, and especially not after he just tried to do with the scrap metal.
Simon wanted very much to escape the ship at that point. If he felt like a prisoner before, now he felt like a gorram victim awaiting execution. Didn't they understand that he had to protect River? That standing aside to "heal" and hide from the Alliance was virtually impossible for him to do? He had to find another way.
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A/N: That's the first chapter. I'd be interested in knowing what you think because I'm still at a crossroads where I'm not sure if I want to continue or not. Reviews would certainly help the situation. Not gonna lie.