The Hole in the 'verse

An alternative Firefly story

Rating: PG-13 for now, for violence and mild cursing

Summary: An AU fic that starts right at the end of the BDM. Serenity and her crew are learning to cope, and still flying, but it's getting harder all the time.

Disclaimer: Joss is boss and owns these sad, unfortunate people

Author's Notes: Not so much time to think about getting it beta'd by another living soul that understands Firefly, but it has been read by three different people with knowledgeable grammar skills. Honour Roll coming.

The Book of Mal

part 2

"Well, if the injury is as you say, you're a very lucky man to even be alive, Mr. Washburne," the doctor said mildly. "Very nearly pierced your heart or a lung it did. And the surgery is very neat. Who ever did this knew what he was doing."

"Aye, that he does," Mal answered quietly.

"He's the best," River smiled. "My brother can fix anyone."

"Your brother, hm? Well, there's no sign of infection, that's positive. Clean stitching. Well done. Why did you need a consult?"

"The conditions that was done under weren't the best, by any means. The doc who done it felt bad about it."

"He shouldn't. He did a fine job. If he felt it was necessary, there was probably reason."

"Can we…please…stop eyeing me like a piece of meat?" Wash asked shortly. Zoë squeezed his hand tighter.

"Sorry, Mr. Washburne, just making sure I haven't missed anything. I don't think so, though. You look fine, under the circumstances."

"In whose opinion?" he muttered.

"Ssh, baby, doctor's only doing what's right," Zoë whispered.

"Nah mei guan-shee."

"Wash," Mal warned.

"Sorry, sir, I get a bit snippy when I'm a side show."

"You much done, doctor?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. I can prescribe some pain killers if you need them, but you're physically healthy."

"Wo you yi tyau ke bwo!" Wash snapped.

"It's not so very hard to live with these days, aside from the fact that it's fairly uncommon now. Seriousy, Mr. Washburne, you're very nearly perfect."

Wash slid off the exam table and walked out of the room. Zoë jogged after him. Mal massaged his forehead, before copping a glance at the bemused doctor. "I think that'll be all."

The ride back to Serenity was uneventful, with no Reavers or Alliance chasing them for a change. Not that they couldn't have used an attack to their advantage, with the crushing silence and tension that seemed to mute the hum of the Mule. Anything was better than that.

Mal guided the craft into the bay easily, hopping out almost as soon as it came to a complete stop. He walked around to help River out, in case she'd planned to stay put and not get out. Mal wasn't going to let anyone in the bay for a good long time. Zoë and Wash needed to be alone.

River skipped. He didn't know why or how, but she did, her bare feet hardly touching the metal floor. The girl was a mystery at the best of times, and Mal found it was no problem simply to lead her to her room with the orders to stay until he came back for her. The same remedy wasn't going to work for him; he wasn't going to spend a minute in his quarters that he didn't have to. He took the stairwell to the shuttles at two or three steps at a time.

Mal stood outside for a time, wondering if he really needed her council at the moment. Eventually, even he couldn't hide the obvious answer anymore, and walked in without knocking. Inara was going to be mad with his bold entrance; she rarely wasn't when he came in uninvited. Which was whenever he felt like.

She was sitting at the console examining potential clients when he stomped in on her turf, so she accorded him proper respect by not turning around to greet him formally. She did acknowledge his presence though. "You know my policy, Mal. Will there ever be a day you'll abide by it?"

"Not likely," Mal admitted without humour. He fell onto the couch bonelessly, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. The heaviness of the flop finally gave Inara enough reason to turn away from the computer to give him a measuring look he wasn't up to meeting.

"How is Wash?" she asked softly.

"Takin' it kinda hard," he answered.

"At least he's alive. Simon did the best he could."

"Weren't good enough. Not accordin' to Wash."

"You can't blame him."

"Not at all. Nor can I blame Simon. But one of my crew is at a disadvantage and none too happy about it. I can't do nothin' about it, but I can't think what to do with him."

"You can't do anything. Not like that," Inara frowned. (She looks sweet when she frowns. Concerned, he thought. His mind always wandered when he was trying to have a conversation with Inara.)

"No. I can't."

"It's kept you up at night."

"Not much hasn't."

Inara returned to the screen one last time so that she could shut it down and give him her full attention. It tended to be easier to talk to a person face to face. She got out of the revolving chair before joining him on the seat. (Wash would be very dead now, if he hadn't gotten up right then. Except it doesn't feel like he's doing much living anymore, his mind whispered plainly.)

The companion folded her hands in her lap, rearranging herself to better face Mal on the couch. "Listen, what you're doing is admirable, but it's going to hurt you badly before too long. You can't beat yourself up over this. From what I hear, you probably saved his life."

"Not so much. He ain't got a life no more."

"Zoë doesn't think so."

"Wash ain't gonna convince that easy." (Simon neither. Simon's still beatin' hisself up over it.)

"He'll come around. He's naturally resilient. He just has to live with it for awhile and get used to the idea."

"'N I suppose when a Companion gets all uglied up, it ain't the end of her career? Companions just gotta up 'n live with bein' a civilian fer awhile till they bounce back dandy as ever? Inara, he needed that arm to fly. Unlike a Companion, us poor folk don't get compensation for wrongs done to us. You get uglied or crippled out here, ain't no one to forgive us nor give us a chance to live like normal folk. Absolution don't exist in our line a work 'n we gotta keep movin'."

"You're not thinking about leaving Wash and Zoë on a planet by themselves." She'd said the comment calmly and easily, as though stating a fact, not an order. When Inara used that voice, there wasn't any other choice but to obey.

"No, I ain't, but I can't let Wash sit 'n vegetate. Bad for him, bad for my crew."

"Give him time, Mal."

"Time's somethin' we ain't got much of."

"Look, Mal, I was busy before you came in here like you so very often do. If you don't want to talk to me or if you're going to keep dismissing me, you should leave now."

Mal didn't react; he was used to the sharp, bitter comments just as she was used to his gruffness. They were playing their roles to perfection, just as they'd come to expect of each other. Except, normally, Mal would have allowed himself to be chased out by then. "Can't leave yet. Zoë 'n Wash are in the bay."

Inara looked annoyed, but she couldn't order him out now. It didn't stop her from showing her obvious displeasure with the arrangements. What had once started as a civil discussion had turned, once again, into the type of warfare where subtle insults and angry glances were flung like grenades. "And just how long are you going to let him wallow in self pity?"

"Long as he wants, so long's he don't hurt no one." Mal was closing up and shielding himself from her attacks, unable to stop himself. Inara already had, he was just following suit. It didn't make it any more pleasant, though.

"And what about his mental health?"

"Well, he's someone too, last I checked." Mal stood up to stretch, but found himself pacing the small space instead. If he hadn't been moving around restlessly in her shuttle, he would have been doing it on the bridge or somewhere else. He just couldn't keep still.

"How long has it been?"

He glanced at her. The set stance, the evaluating eyes. (Too long. Entirely too long. Why'd you have to leave? Don't you know I was sorry?) "Ten minutes, give or take.."

"Would you have me go talk to them?"

"No." His last round of pacing brought him close to the door. Mal had to turn on his heel before he could start afresh; he forcibly told himself to stop, take the door handle, open it. He had to sneak a last look at Inara before leaving, not being able to bring himself to meet her gaze completely. He wasn't much for goodbyes.

The bay was empty; the Mule parked right where he'd left it. He couldn't hear anyone in close proximity, though he assumed that Wash and Zoë were in their bunk, Kaylee in the engine room, Simon in his bunk and Jayne wherever he felt like bein' at the moment. River might have been where he left her, but there was no guarantee. He checked anyway, in case she had decided to obey him for once.

Mal tapped on the door gently, "You're shiny, little albatross. You can come out."

"The air is sad." River's answer was muffled through the plastic.

"I know. Not quite so much right now, if you'd like to come back out."

"Everyone is sad. It leaks into the air, stains the walls. Dripping down like rain, the sorrow."

Mal sighed, trying very hard not to snap out the first retort that came to mind. Of course, River probably knew what it was, but there was a certain formality in not speaking it aloud, as though they could pretend it didn't really exist. He had tired of that game with Inara though, and wasn't in the mood to do it again with River. "Do what you want, we'll be leaving soon."

He left, trying to head for higher ground and maybe escape the profound sense of discomfort. The fact that the untouchable Wash had gotten himself injured…that meant that nobody was safe. Maybe they weren't such big damn heroes at all, just really disgustingly lucky. The fact Wash should have died only served to pound that little fact in that much more effectively. They were just barely flying now…how much longer would that last?

He shook himself. It wasn't the time to start sinking into a massive pit of depression. The bridge was ahead; they'd be lifting off by the end of the day, assuming nothing broke between then and now. He crossed the bridge and keyed the intercom; after all, he might as well get all the unhappy captain duties out of the way in one fell swoop.

"This is the captain requesting the presence of the doc on the bridge right now. Don't be mistakin' this for a kindly request." He'd used his best reasonable voice: polite, quiet, non-hostile. Maybe Simon wouldn't be on the defense. Maybe the Alliance would get all fuzzy and welcome them with open arms.

Mal didn't have to wait long for Simon to drag himself onto the bridge. Mal wasn't quite sure who was taking everything worse; all of Serenity seemed to be in the grips of a competition to see who could be the more depressing. Simon may have been winning; he didn't even take a seat when Mal gestured at the copilot's chair. The doctor leaned against the locker in the corner and seemingly curled into himself. Mal did sink into Wash's fleece covered chair and waited for the other man to start. He didn't think he was wrong about Simon needing to vent his feelings.

"I didn't mean to do it. I…there was nothing there for me to reattach with the tools I had!" The doctor had come out on the defense as Mal had predicted.

"No one's accusin' you otherwise," he said quietly, watching the twilight sky melt into a blue and lavender dusk. Mal content himself to let Simon have all the leeway he needed to purge his mind by enjoying the scenery.

"Mal, I know I could have done it, I just…"

"You panicked."

Simon gulped audibly. "Y-yes. I…panicked."

"What I find so terribly interestin', Simon, ain't so much that you panicked as I'm wonderin' how you got so far in your educationin' without learnin' to deal under pressure. I saw you gimme my ear back when it got unattached. What I hear Kaylee speak, you stuck a girl's leg back on 'n the kid went 'n named her hamster after your own self." Mal swiveled around in the seat and leaned forward to fix Simon with a penetrating gaze. "Did you really not have all the tools you needed for the job?" he asked firmly.

"I didn't even have light to see by, Mal…" Simon said pitifully. "I never would have gotten th-the veins and arteries attached, I didn't have—"

"You would have been a shiny battle surgeon, but that weren't what we were lookin' for when we hired you. If you need more gear, you come to me. Don't be makin' a habit of this."

Simon seemed to shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "It's not a habit. I never want anyone to go through that, especially Wash. It usually never happens anymore. Not on a Core planet."

"And you know very well we ain't so privileged as them. We make do with what we've got. We keep flyin'. Is there a way we can make it better, even if it ain't perfect?"

Simon shook his head. "Too expensive. We'd need an extremely lucrative heist even to think about getting a prosthetic. The illegal limbs are all shoddy anyway, bound to break and you'd have to buy a new one that costs an equal amount. You can tell the legal ones, they're all tagged now. If you go through a metal detector, you're sunk if you've got an unlicensed one. The Alliance…It wouldn't be worth it to go through any channel but them. It's the only way that it won't blow up in his face a year from now."

"Well…why don't we go through the Alliance then?"

Simon's head snapped up. "Are you insane?"

"On occasion, but this time I'm serious. We've got some honourable folk on our ship. I'm sure they could find a limb decent-like. It's only a matter of breakin' the news gently…"

"Are you insane?" Inara frowned. She looked concerned again. "It's a horrible plan, they're not just going to give me a fake arm."

"Of course they ain't, I ain't stupid. You're takin' Wash with you as your husband."

"Wha—? You know that's never going to work! What would Zoë say about it?"

"Dunno, haven't asked her yet. She can't go 'cause the gorram Fed's'd likely ident 'er. You're the only one with clout enough to get him in 'n out. Need your support first to back me up, make it sound feasiblelike. So far, I got Simon behind me and I need a bit more help than that. Wash needs a bit more help than that."

"What does Wash think?" she scoffed.

"He don't. Not yet. I haven't told nobody but you 'n Simon."

"And you thought I was just going to agree blindly." She looked bored as she said it, as though Mal were wasting her time. It wasn't completely inaccurate if he couldn't convince her.

"No. Actually, I thought you were going to yell at me for coming in uninvited, call me crazy, and then agree with me. So far, so good," Mal grinned cheesily. Inara's expression turned sour.

"I'll say nothing until I get Zoë and Wash's opinion on the matter."

"Mhmm. That was my second guess," Mal sighed. "I'm sure Kaylee'd make a good wife for Wash, if he were into it. Just figured you'd want a chance to show how respectable Companions are, all them fancy clothes 'n jewelry 'n smelly stuff—"

"Incense, Mal," she butted in.

"You just don't worry about…keep yourself to your own council, we'll take care of our own." He got up swiftly, not giving her another chance for rebuttal.

"Wha—? I don't even get a chance to consider?"

"You did; you made it quite plain there's stipulations I ain't in the mood to abide by. I'll go get Kaylee. Don't worry yourself none." Mal stopped at the door and gave Inara a shrug. "Weren't your fault, I ain't gonna expect you to fix it."

"Mal…" she sighed. "You're sure this is foolproof?"

"Is anything foolproof?" he asked mildly.

"Mal!"

"I trust it is. We've got Simon's expertise. He'll lead us true."

"And what's the plan exactly?"

He had her. He just had to try not to trip on the finish line "Well…"

"Wash and Inara will get off as soon as we land on Osiris and catch a transport to the St. Lucia Hospital. Once there, they'll walk through the front door and confirm the date for attachment. The date will have been set up in advance, by us on Serenity, two days before we hit atmo. The papers will be all drawn up, all they have to do is confirm it, pay, get fixed up, leave. Easy. It's fool proof, liken the job on Ariel shoulda gone," Mal recited calmly.

Zoë and Wash both blinked, but it was Wash who spoke first. "Are you—"

"Okay, y'know what, I am captain here and I am gettin' just a little sick of folk tellin' me I am off my nut. It ain't a bad plan, and I've got the doc's and 'Nara's consent."

"And of course Dr. Tam's opinion is so very trustworthy," Wash muttered.

"Do you want an arm again, or not?" Mal asked scathingly.

"Husband! Sir," Zoë reprimanded.

"And there you go making it my fault first and foremost, again!" Wash snapped at Zoë. He rounded on the captain next. "Maybe I don't want to be a cyborg, Mal! Zoë, you're probably better off with someone who can do the whole 'have and to hold thing,' why don't you just take Mal to your bed? I hear it's important in a successful marriage!" Wash had almost gotten up from his seat to leave, had Mal not risen first. It may not have been fair, using both arms to lever himself up, but Mal wasn't going to cater to Wash's injured confidence. He tugged Wash upright, holding onto the smaller man's shirt collar.

"Listen up. I can't have Zoë and I don't want her that way. She's my gunman, pure and simple, and I ain't givin' that up to stroke your ego. You've been walkin' out on me and mine for the past week. I don't care if you get this operation or not, but you will not sit and mope on my boat, dong ma? I am tired of your sass, and I aim to stop it now. It's your choice as to take the better deal, but I ain't gonna force you either way. I hope you've been comin' up with alternative jobs though; my crew shares its work. You'd do well to tell me which course of action you're plannin' to take."

Wash was reddening, looking to be on the verge of a blow out. Mal would take it; he'd experienced worse from Inara. At least Wash wouldn't slap him. Zoë placed a hand on her captain's arm, gently pushing him away from her husband. Mal complied, stepping away, but staying close enough to watch and intervene if necessary. Zoë guided Wash backwards until his back hit the wall, and proceeded to kiss him with about as much passion as Mal cared not to have to see. He turned away discretely before it got any worse.

"Husband," she breathed. "I didn't marry you because I expected a pretty, egotistical man. You could be a head in a jar, and while I might be sad, you'd still be mine to have, hold, and love. You don't need to have two real arms for me to love you."

Wash was silent for a moment, either catching his breath or trying to gather up the words to say something proper. "If I'm not egotistical, can I still be pretty?"

Mal heard another kiss be exchanged and fought the urge to groan. Zoë laughed, "I'd've called you handsome, my own self."

"I can do handsome," Wash admitted. Another kiss. Mal cleared his throat.

"So. Do we have a verdict?"

Another pause, a long one this time. Mal almost asked a second time, before he heard Wash whisper, "I'll do it."

Chinese:

Nah mei guan-shee.-Well in that case, nevermind.

Wo you yi tyau ke bwo.-I have one arm.

Honour Roll: Katie 05: Thanks muchly, hope this installment isn't so bad either. RMMF: I have to admit, River's a fun character to write, if a bit daunting at first. I've had some fun with her. pokey: Simon is just a bundle of angst, but I intend to slap him around a bit if he doesn't shape up. Wash, shall be with us a long time yet. Creamy Mimi: BDM stands for Big Damn Movie, a reference to the show. Fond nicknames make me smile so I try to use them as often as possible. Lynx Ryder: I doubt there is such a thing as too much Firefly just yet, so I think you're good. This fic is fun. LadyPup: I can't really imagine any pairing but Kaylee/Simon so they shall be an item. Just not till much, much later. I've got a plan –wink- Sage1899: Sorry I didn't get to you this time around –blush- but I intend to try for the next time around. I've got everything all set up so check your inbox if you're still interested. Mayorst: No worries, it's all good. Wash is too cool to die.