She tossed and turned, thrashing in the sheets and blankets on her bunk. Barely able to fall asleep. Then wide awake just a little later, visions of hours earlier flashing in her mind like a neon sign. Struggle asleep, jolt awake, panting in fear and hurt and confusion as she remembered watching Mal carrying an unconscious River out of the bar. Saw the looks of horror on the faces of Wash and Zoe as they followed him quickly back to Serenity, eyes darting wary glances at passersby on the street. And Simon's pale stone expression. Like all feeling had left him and he was numb and frozen through and through.
It was too much. Kaylee sat up in bed and flung the covers to the floor. She was exhausted and wired and slightly nauseated and didn't know what she wanted to do or think about anything.
Who was she? Who was River now? They'd been friends. Played games, told stories, shared jokes and looks and laughs. Sure, the younger girl sometimes said and did things that were odd and confusing, but she never truly meant any harm. Kaylee would bet her own life on that. Even now, with bodies littering the bar in Maidenhead, some dead, some injured, she would still make that exact same wager.
But that girl, the one who wore combat boots slightly too big, and giggled when the two of them spent time fussing with hair and dresses in Inara's shuttle, she had still done those things. Now she was handcuffed to the floor of the storage room, and locked in. Kept away, like a lion Kaylee had seen a picture of once, behind a glass fence in a fancy Core zoo. Too dangerous to be let loose among the innocent.
What else was River capable of? Would she hurt anyone in the crew? How did anyone know what might bring out the killer? Could they help her? If they couldn't – what if they couldn't? Would Mal - Kaylee rubbed her tired eyes with her hands and swallowed a sob. Her throat tightened painfully at the thought she wasn't quite able to shut down.
"She's my friend," Kaylee whimpered, tears filling her eyes. "It's ain't her fault this happened." She wiped the wetness from her cheeks. "She's just a kid. She never wanted this. Never asked ta be tortured and turned inta a killer! It ain't fair!"
All of a sudden, the room felt too small. There was not enough space for the feelings of anger and sorrow and helplessness rushing through her. Tossing a robe on over her tank top and sleep shorts, she climbed heavily out of her bunk.
God, what was she going to do? Maybe walk the ship, like River sometimes did, like a ghost, when the only thing awake was Serenity? Walk until she collapsed from fatigue and had to sleep, her body giving her no choice in the matter? It was a sight better idea than struggling with the bedclothes and having nightmares.
A part of her wanted to see her friend. A strong part. Even if she was locked up, even if River was asleep. She probably was, Simon had most likely given her something for that. But that didn't mean Kaylee couldn't see her, talk to her. Think about their fun times, the happier days. Maybe, on some level, River would hear her. Know her.
She walked slowly and quietly to the dining area. Mal would not like it, knowing she was going up there, but she had an odd feeling that she was needed. Someone needed her to help them. Needed to remember better, more hopeful times with her friend. Because she was having trouble finding that feeling that everything would work out for the best.
Kaylee gasped softly and stopped by the end of the table. Someone else had the same idea as she, but it really should have come as no surprise. Simon sat near the locked door, arms slung about his knees, head back against the door. His eyes were closed, but she could see tear tracks on his cheeks.
He opened his eyes and looked right at her. Kaylee couldn't stop her response to him. His beautiful deep blue eyes were red and tight, full of despair. Never had she seen him like this, or even imagined he could break as he was. She slowly walked to him, tears flowing down her cheeks, her heart flooded with love for him. All she wanted was to take his pain away. His and River's.
He'd never cried about River. Never. Not one single time. Never a single, solitary tear.
How could he? How could he take the time, spend the energy to feel? Simon had needed to focus, to find the code in her letters. Then he'd needed all his wits about him to navigate the intricate maze of blackout zones, bribes, unmarked transfers, nebulous contacts, and underground resistance groups in order to get River out of the Academy. There was no room for grieving what had been done, what had been lost.
And once he had done so, had her out and on Serenity, more focus was needed. His doctor's brain and training. Measurements, detailed observations, calculations, attempts at conclusions. Re-calibration. Repeat.
Simon had shut down that feeling part of him for so long, pushed it back as far and as hard as he could. It had worked, for the better part of the past three or four years. Now it was all undone.
Bullet in the brain pain. Squish. River had said those horrible words earlier, her hand coming up to her temple to mimic a gun going off. No. No, no, no. He couldn't allow that to happen. Would not allow it with every breath in his body. It would kill him otherwise.
But what could he do? He'd tried everything he could think of. Nothing had worked. Nothing. And now there was plentiful evidence, lying dead or injured on the floor of a bar, of what the Alliance had wanted River to be. His sister was a killer. His beautiful, talented, brilliant mei-mei was a killer.
Sitting on the other side of the locked door, Simon faced the dining hall, eyes open, seeing nothing. Feeling everything, finally. Fear and loss and despair and hopelessness. He was powerless to stop the tears, or the churning of his stomach. His body shuddered with sobs.
In the corner of his mind, he could her the faint noise of another person. Simon wanted to see no one, talk to no one, but did not have the will to move and hide. He did not raise his head to see who had joined him until he could hear footfall right in front of him. How could he be surprised to see Kaylee standing there? His heart flipped at the sight of her, as it had so often lately. He could see her beautiful eyes filled with sadness, tears drenching her own cheeks.
"Kaylee." Simon hoarsely whispered her name. "Kaylee. What are you doing here?" he asked as he wiped his face with his hands.
"Can't sleep. Been thinkin' about River, about earlier." She slowly sat down beside him, their shoulders brushing. "She's my friend. And I'll never believe she wanted ta hurt anyone. Never. Just wish I could do somethin' ta help her." He watched her as she mimicked his pose and looked straight ahead of her, her hands on her lap. "I thought if I was thinkin' of the times we played games or somethin', she might sense that, and . . . " her voice trailed off weakly. "It's stupid, maybe. But I had ta try. She's my friend." He heard her let out a sigh as she rested her chin on her chest.
Oh good God, how he loved her right now. Simon had known for a little while, that he was in love with Kaylee. A little whisper of intuition that he'd pushed away. And kept pushing away when it bubbled up again and again. Everything was on the surface now, all locked emotions open. He knew it fully and completely, with blinding clarity. The strong realization filled him with equal parts of joy and terror. But no matter if he could have found the words and courage to tell her, now was absolutely not the time.
Instead, he reached out and took one of her hands in his. "It's not stupid to want to help, Kaylee," Simon said shakily. "And you have helped River. You being her friend has meant a lot to her, to me, too." He squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of overwhelm ripple through him. "But I don't know what to do," he choked out brokenly. "I don't know what to do now, Kaylee." Simon pressed his face to his knees and cried.
Kaylee reached her free hand up to stroke his head, threading her fingers gently in his hair. "You don't have ta know what ta to right now, Simon. It's okay ta be scared. Ya don't have ta be strong all the time. It's okay ta cry and be afraid."
She gave him a tiny smile as Simon lifted his head and took both her hands in his. "I never cried before, you know. About any of it. Had to stuff it all down. But I can't." Her heart broke as he sobbed even harder. "Can't seem to stop." He looked at her pleadingly. "Will you-will you hold me, please? I don't want to be alone."
"Come," Kaylee said gently, standing up on shaky legs and pulling him up with her. Slowly they walked to the couch just a short distance away and sat down. Simon curled up into a ball and rested his head in her lap. Kaylee put an arm around his shoulders and rested one on his head. She could feel his body tremble slightly as Simon continued to cry.
"I failed her. Couldn't fix it, couldn't make River better," he whispered brokenly against her thigh. "It's my fault."
"No, no, it ain't your fault. Ya got her out of there, helped her. Loved her. We've all seen it." Kaylee said, agitated. "It ain't your fault. No one thinks that."
"What's going to happen to River, Kaylee?" Simon asked. Kaylee never imagined him like this, shaken and overwhelmed and sobbing. Not the surety of when he was doctorin', and not the stiffness of when he was proper. He was breaking her heart with every tear he shed.
"I don't know, Simon. We'll all figure it out tagether. You, me, Mal, Zoe, everyone. We'll do it tagether, dong ma, honey?" She spoke with a certainty she didn't fully feel. But he needed a little hope, a little comfort. Just a little, just for now.
Simon sat up suddenly and turned to her. "I'm sorry Kaylee. I'm so sorry," he whispered, raising a hand to touch her cheek gently. Kaylee jerked slightly in surprise. She didn't know what he was apologizing for. Sorry for bringing trouble down on the crew? Sorry he hadn't stepped forward to claim her, as she wanted? Or something else entirely? "Ya don't have anythin' to be sorry for, Simon," she said gently. "There's nothin' you need to apologize ta me for."
"I just want to pretend. Just a few minutes to pretend this isn't happening," he said, a little bitterly, looking away from her. "To pretend River was, well, okay, or better enough that I might be able to finally have what I want, what I know would make me so happy." She thought Simon blush a little as he hung his head in a gesture of hopelessness. "It's selfish of me, isn't it? To want to be happy when River's in such a state?"
Kaylee wondered what it was that would make Simon so happy, something he'd wanted for a while. Going home to his old life? It was really the only thing that made any sense to her. She couldn't possibly think it was her he was talking about, what with his track record of inconsistent behavior. She wanted to think it, but it just couldn't be true. "Wantin' to be happy's never selfish, Simon. It's natural. Don't everyone want to be happy?"
"Maybe. But not everyone deserves to be happy. Not everyone can be."
Kaylee put a hand on his bowed head and softly ran her fingers through his hair. She hoped she was helping, at least a little. "It ain't somethin' that runs out, ya know. Ya can't go buy it in a store, and take the last one off the shelf. There's enough happiness for everyone. And River bein' in her condition don't mean you don't deserve what makes you happy, Simon."
He leaned toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his face to her neck. Kaylee put her arms around him. She could feel his tears wetting her skin. "I just want to pretend, just for a moment," Simon whispered hoarsely. "Please."
Kaylee sighed and let Simon hold her. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. It gave her shivers, but she ignored them. He couldn't be talking about her. She wished it was true, but it was the stuff of dreams. And he was hurting so bad. She was his friend, she needed to do what she could to help him.
As the rest of the ship slept in the dark, they held each other, each pretending they had what would make them happy. So close and yet so far. Neither one was able to sense that they were the thing the other needed.
