Disclaimer: I own nothing; Harry Potter and the elements of his universe all belong to J.K.Rowling. Firefly/Serenity and the elements of its universe all belong to Joss Whedon. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – An Ordinary Day
"Nurse Conrad?"
Jane looked away from the whining man she'd embarrassingly slept with quite regularly and turned towards the call of her name. "Yes?"
"I think 504 is waking up just now."
"Thank you, Lenny," Jane said. She turned to Jayne and ordered, "Come along and behave."
Jane entered room 504 with Jayne following behind her. Jayne kept his gun trained on the patient, while Jane checked his vitals. She went to the sink in the adjoining bathroom and filled a glass with distilled water.
Blearily, the patient blinked his eyes open. "Where am I?"
Jane shined a light in his eyes, checking to make sure they dilated as she answered. "You're on the fifth floor of a hospital."
"What…" the man asked, using his voice for speech for just about the first time in fifteen years. "What happened?"
"Here," Jane avoided the questions and handed him a glass of water. "Drink this. It's just water."
The man accepted the cup and drank it greedily. "Why am I here?"
"You no doubt have a lot of questions," Jane replied. "But your answers will have to wait, while we check you out. Do you remember your name?"
"Sam," he answered without hesitation. "Sam… something. I… I don't know."
"Samuel Rogers according to your chart," Jane answered. "But remembering your first name is an excellent sign. You'll probably get the fast track to rehabilitation and recovery."
"Rehab? What?"
"The lady said your questions have to wait," Jayne snapped drawing the man's attention.
The man's eyes widened having not spotted the other person in the room. "Why are you pointing a gun at me? What's going on?"
"Please relax, Sam," Jane tried to calm him. "It's only a tranquilizer gun. It won't hurt you."
"Who are you people?" Sam asked looking between the scary one aiming a gun at him, and the attractive nurse who seemed to be masterminding this nightmare.
"My name is Jane Conrad. You may call me Nurse Conrad or Jane. I answer to both."
Sam looked at the man with a gun hoping for an introduction and the only response he received was a grunt.
Jane saw Sam was getting nervous and answered, "My overprotective co-worker is named Jayne."
"Jane… and Jayne?" Sam repeated. "That's a boy's name?"
A pop of compressed air and thunk sounded as the tranquilizer dart caught Sam in the meat of his left thigh.
"Oops," Jayne admitted unconvincingly.
"Jayne!"
"It was an accident!"
"You're not helping," Jane grumbled.
"He's unconscious now," Jayne said with a shrug. "We know he's not round the bend still. You can give him that fancy shot that'll speed up the unclouding of his noggin and then we can sneak off to a closet, if you know what I mean."
Jane sighed at Jayne's use of the single entendre. "Let's hope I'm not misinterpreting 'sneak off to a closet' when I say fat chance of that happening."
"I think ya are misinterpreting," Jayne added.
"Tie his arms and legs down," Jane said ignoring the horny man-child. "I'll get the shot."
Jayne secured the leather straps on the unconscious man, and Jane inserted the syringe after locating a thick looking vein. She nodded at Jayne and pushed on the plunger.
Sam jerked forward wide awake and screaming.
Jayne and Jane were both ready and only cringed slightly at the sudden increase in volume.
"What are you doing to me?" Sam screamed after he'd stopped thrashing in the bed he was tied to.
"Do you feel any excess rage or anger?" Jane asked as she looked over her paperwork.
"No," Sam commented. "I feel a little calmer than I think is warranted."
"Excellent, excellent," Jane nodded. "Any desire to cut yourself or eat human flesh?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked in confusion.
"I've got a series of videos all queued up for you now," Jane said. She pointed towards the buttons on side of the bed marked play, pause, and rewind. "You'll find the large majority of your answers in them. Once you're somewhat caught up to speed, I will have some more questions for you, and if things go smoothly, we might even move you to the fourth floor this afternoon."
"Why am I being held captive?" Sam asked noticing how tight the straps were on his wrists and ankles.
"Those are so you don't try to hurt yourself," Jane replied. "I'm sorry you have to go through this but we really are here to help you."
The change was so sudden Sam thought he was seeing things. He wondered what hallucinogenic drugs they had given him. It was as if his entire vision was coated in blood. Not just a red haze but thick, viscous blood. He could smell it. He could taste it. He felt his body's primal urges all being satiated by the thrill of the hunt, the conquest of the kill, and the pleasure of others' pain.
The visions passed but his head was twitching. He hadn't even noticed the nurse and her overprotective co-worker leave the room. It didn't take long before the images came back again, only this time with more clarity than before. These weren't the actions of someone else, but those of his own body. He recognized the scars on his arms were not the result of a horrific accident, and instead knew exactly how he carved them and with what. He felt the rush of seeing children flee from him, the fear and terror in their eyes driving him. He felt the sexual release of defiling their husks and the satisfaction of tearing limbs from their warm bodies.
Sam's consciousness became aware again and turned his head to the side vomiting what little sustenance had been put into his system. He would have heaved more but his stomach was already empty. "Help me!" he began to scream, unaware of what was going on. "Make it stop! Please!"
Sam was lost in memories all tinted with blood, knowing these weren't his own and yet he could tell they were. He felt pain, guilt, and horror at seeing his hands doing horrible things and he knew he wouldn't feel that way if they hadn't been his hands. He knew what it felt like to squeeze a brain or chew up an eyeball and the knowledge didn't just make him feel ill but also physically hurt.
He wasn't sure how long he had been screaming and he barely noticed a man come into the room and clean up the vomit. He was lost in a nightmare that felt like a stain on his being. He was too far gone to recognize that a second older man had walked into the room, nor the fact that the second man wore robes not a lab coat. Even if Sam had, he wouldn't have understood that the man cast two magical spells on him before leaving the room. All Sam knew was that the images and memories in his head were still there, but they had stopped hurting.
His throat was raw and sore from screaming, but he didn't seem to care so much. He knew it was wrong and inappropriate but he let out a small giggle. For some reason he found the world funny, not a hopeless humorless laugh but genuinely okay.
Sam turned to his head and saw a man with two V-shaped scars emanating from the corners of his mouth. He was using a wet towel to clean up the vomit from off of Sam's face and bed.
"That's the calming charm and cheering charm you feel, Sam," he answered, not helping Sam's confusion any. He began to dry off the now wet areas of the bed. "I'm Lenny by the way."
"What's happening to me?" Sam asked in between his unnatural smiles.
"The charms won't last forever," Lenny said as he finished up in Sam's room. "But the videos will answer your questions."
"No," Sam calmly argued, trying to work up the anger and righteous indignation he thought he should feel. "Get me a doctor, I want some answers."
"The videos, Sam, the videos," Lenny reiterated as he left the room.
Sam was confused and couldn't get the images out of his head. He realized no one was going to tell him anything and hit play on the only buttons his tied down hand could reach.
The viewing screen on the wall directly in front of him lit up. A title appeared announcing, "Where did I come from?" with a smaller subtext, "The non-sexual Reaver edition."
Sam just idly watched the text dissolve and man's face appear. "I know what you're thinking. Where did you come from and what is a Reaver?"
Sam nodded dumbly as the man known to many as Mr. Universe explained the facts of Reaver life. Warnings were given before any graphic visuals, and theme music credited as The Imperial March added a nice touch during all the parts covering the Alliance, the Unification War, and just what the scientists had unintentionally created and unleashed when they put the Pax into the Miranda air.
Sam felt numb hearing about the horrible atrocities committed by thousands of others just like him, and even more the unconscionable acts of the one and only governing body for the entire known universe. The idea of genocide on the scale that had happened was simply unimaginable to him. He was feeling dizzy and lightheaded, but the video ended and told him to take a moment before the next video.
Lenny walked in and asked, "Just finished the first one?"
Sam nodded, feeling as if he were in a very nauseating dream.
"Let me get you some water," Lenny said as he got another glass of distilled water from the sink. "You're going watch the rest of the videos and get more answers, right?"
Sam nodded eagerly, and Lenny used his key to release Sam's wrists. He handed him the water to drink. "Finish this one off and I'll refill it for you."
Sam guzzled the water down while Lenny took a fresh and clean towel that he wet with cold water. Sam handed the empty cup back and Lenny gave him the towel. "You can hold it to your forehead to stave off a fever, and keep yourself from passing out."
Sam did just that and sat back in relaxation. The cool towel felt wonderful on his skin. The images were there in his mind, but they weren't out of control. He could think of them or ignore them at will.
Lenny came back with another glass of water and smiled. "Trust me. You'll like this next movie a lot better."
Sam was looking at the scars on Lenny's face and asked. "Did a… a Reaver do that to you?"
Lenny chuckled. "You could say that." Lenny saw the confusion on Sam's face and explained. "I did it to myself." Lenny traced his fingers over the cuts. "I cut my mouth open so I could attack with all of my teeth at once. I peeled back and pinned the flesh of my cheeks against the base of my neck."
Sam winced, but felt a measure of comfort knowing Lenny had been a Reaver too.
"Yeah," Lenny nodded. "I looked pretty gruesome. I was one of the first that Dr. Fullerton helped, so I didn't get any fancy videos explaining things to me. Just a bunch of tests and more questions than you can imagine."
"Does it… does it get better?" Sam asked feebly.
"You think it could be worse?" Lenny smiled brightly. "Yeah, it gets better. It helps that there's so many of us. Reaver-holics Anonymous has helped me the most."
"What?" Sam asked in confusion.
"It's what I call the group therapy sessions," Lenny assured him. "The way you're going, I wouldn't be surprised if a shrink clears you for group in less than a week."
"That long?"
Lenny nodded with certainty. "After fifteen years of… you know, it's less when others trust you again, and more about when you trust yourself."
Sam just nodded, not knowing what to say.
"Go ahead and start the next movie," Lenny said with a grin. "It'll make you feel like a kid again."
Sam sat back, shifting his cool towel and hit play with his now freed hand. Lenny left the room once more, as the screen came to life. Sam looked at the title skeptically and wondered if this was some sort of joke. The title of this movie was "The Magical World: An introduction to wizards, witches, phoenixes, and goblins."
Sam was beginning to think Lenny's mention of charms had nothing to do with either luck or cereal.
"Feeling better?" Jane asked as she entered the room, with Jayne following dutifully behind her.
"A little better, yeah," Sam admitted before chuckling sadly. "But I think might be coming down with a slight case of mental breakdown."
Jane was carrying a tray and smiled warmly at him. "That's to be expected. Even if the information weren't enough to shock you, there's still the matter of the chemical imbalance in your brain."
"Chemical imbalance?" Sam repeated. "Is that why I hear the voices?"
"Should I plug him?" Jayne asked watching Sam suspiciously.
"You're already on thin ice, buster," Jane stopped her trigger-happy co-worker. "Sam? Do you actually hear voices or was that just an attempt at levity?"
"Just a joke," Sam shook his head. "I hope."
"I brought you some food," Jane said.
"I like my steak rare, please," Sam grinned, unconcerned with Jayne's angry staring.
"Nope, sorry," Jane explained. "You get vegetables, soup, and fluids for the next few days. All former Reaver victims need to pass an evaluation before they get to eat meat."
Sam sighed and took his bowl of steamed veggies. "I suppose that makes sense."
"You ready for a couple of questions?" Jane said settling down. "I can wait, if you'd prefer to finish your meal first."
Sam shook his head. "I don't mind talking right now, but can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Jane said looking up from her daunting checklist.
"Are you a witch thingie?"
Jane shook her head. "My grandfather is a wizard. I was one of the people who moved outside of time and long to see the wizarding world flourish again, but I was born on the ride over so I have no magic. I was only twenty-two when the first Core planets were settled."
"Oh," Sam nodded. "Okay." He remembered his food and took another bite. "So you're from a few centuries ago. That's… umm… oddly hard to believe considering I'm apparently a monster. Or at least I was." Sam noticed the pitying look in the nurse's eye and turned towards the man with the gun. "What about you?"
"I'm from here, now, and I like to shoot people," Jayne answered.
"Fair enough," Sam agreed, pushing away his empty bowl. "If I start eating people, you have my full permission to shoot me."
"Do you want him to shoot you?" Jane asked adopting a more serious expression than the joking tone Sam was using.
"Right now, I'm not sure I care," Sam admitted.
"Excellent," Jane agreed marking on her paper. She saw Sam was looking at her curiously and realized how that sounded. "Sorry, I was meaning excellent in that you were honest in your answer. Because from here there are several options and we need to discuss them."
Sam nodded listening intently.
"The first option is the one we try and push the most. That is to continue through the healing process, engage in therapy sessions, get cleared, and get a fresh start on a new life. Did you have any family on Miranda or elsewhere?"
Sam nodded sadly. "I came alone to Miranda, but my intention was to get things settled, before moving my wife and daughter here," Sam chuckled. "I know the reputation most border planets have, so I wanted them to wait until I felt it was safe. Considering I was about six months late to the party, I probably was only here a month or two before I became a lab rat."
Jane smiled sadly. "Part of the healing process involves writing letters to your family that you don't actually send. Depending on how things go, contacting them is a possibility."
Sam let out a breath he had been holding in. He winced and looked away. "Part of me is immensely grateful they didn't come, but another part of me wishes we could be together. Though they probably buried an empty casket for me 15 years ago."
"We do have resources available to us," Jane explained. "And often, we will find out how your family is doing before you decide whether you wish to reintroduce yourself to them. There have been a number of happy reunions but some people see their kids have grown up, have new loving parents, or spouses that are happily remarried and then they choose not to disrupt their lives.
"There is no right or wrong answer here and you won't be making any decisions today. I'm just letting you know what options are available to you now and in the future."
Sam closed his eyes and smiled sadly. He painfully admitted, "I hope Janice moved on."
"Janice Rogers?" Jane repeated writing the name down. "And your daughter?"
"Diana Elizabeth Rogers," Sam answered.
"Where were they from?"
"A small moon called Cheyenne."
"I'll have someone look into locating them," Jane assured him. "That doesn't necessarily mean you have to know even if we do locate them."
"I want to know," Sam fiercely insisted. "There's no way I wouldn't want to know."
"Easy," Jayne commented when Sam had raised his voice.
"Sorry," Sam said as he laid back. "You said something about options?"
"Yes, thank you," Jane appreciated the reminder. "The first option is to go through a thorough and normal healing process."
"Normal?" Sam chuckled and lifted up his misshapen and deformed arms. "Am I always going to look like this?"
Jane shook her head. "Physical therapy may be needed for your arms but usually is unnecessary. Cosmetic surgeries come in a variety of possibilities, but those are considered non-critical and frequently have long waiting lists."
"Great," Sam sighed. "That's just great."
"I'd like to think I don't have to impress the severity of the situation on you," Jane commented. "You're in much better shape than most."
Sam was feeling the ripples in the scar tissue on his face. "I am?"
"I've seen patients with only one eye, without any eyes, those who lost their tongues either because they ate it or cut it out," Jane rattled off. "I even had one man who started with five broken ribs protruding from his chest that had been sharpened into horns."
Sam winced and felt a bit ashamed at how selfish he must have sounded.
"One of the most popular cosmetic procedures is to actually burn and sear the skin off of the patient. New live tissue can then be re-grown with a more natural pigmentation, as well as greatly reducing the amount of visible scarring," Jane continued. "I'm not sure there are words to describe how painful it is to have that much raw skin. But some victims are covered with blotchy patches of red, brown, purple, and blue due to various ailments and self-inflicted actions.
"Again, nothing in their physical health is at risk, but for the sake of their mental health looking more human helps them to feel more human. And subjecting themselves to an inordinate amount of pain and weeks of extreme sensitivity is in some cases the preferred solution.
"All the while there are thousands more people suffering from the same madness and affliction. Not only are the ones still out there mindless, vicious monsters but they are killing and harming more innocents. Something that if you hadn't been picked up you would be doing as well."
Sam was visibly cowed and realized the man with the gun may be the nice one here.
"I'm sorry if my words seem cruel," Jane softened. "But in case you missed the numbers in the movies, thirty million people were killed by the Pax on Miranda directly. Thirty thousand were turned into monsters. That was fifteen years ago. Since then thousands and thousands more that had nothing to do with Miranda have been slaughtered, and that death toll keeps climbing. You are the 819th Reaver we have captured and are trying to help. We know a lot of Reavers have perished over the years, but there are thousands of them still out there. And helping to heal them, which in turn protects the innocents from them, is to me a far higher priority than any cosmetic issues you may have."
"God, you're hot when you get worked up," Jayne commented staring at her.
"Jayne!" Jane blushed and scolded. "And I'm sorry, Sam. I can't imagine how difficult this is for you. But this is why, if you're willing, we'd like to help you, so that then you can help us."
"Me?" Sam meekly repeated not wanting to set her off. "How can I help you?"
Jane smiled back at him. "Like I said, there are thousands more Reavers out there and we need all the help we can get."
Sam looked at her skeptically and fearfully, uncertain what she was implying.
"Relax," Jane assured. "No one's going to force you to help with anything. But we started as a group of 47 people descended from the last generation of the Earth's wizarding world. A single transport ship with a crew of eight wonderful, selfless, amazing individuals, well, seven and him, I should say," she corrected jerking her thumb towards Jayne. "We made up this entire operation from the start. As the movie stated, the Alliance was going to ignore you until you all died. Since then we've managed to hire two dozen psychiatrists and psychotherapists and nine medical doctors. All of the other people involved are either former Reavers themselves, or families of them that have come to help."
Sam just nodded impressed with the success of what probably seemed to be an impossible situation.
"Many victims help out here in the hospital, like Lenny I believe you met," Jane commented. "There are also ten strike teams who frequently risk their lives taking the ships out to subdue and capture the Reavers. The ships they fly are parted together from former Reaver ships, and those skilled in mechanics help to salvage those as best they can. Not to mention this is the beginnings of a burgeoning new town, where essentials like food are needed. We do not have the luxury of assistance from the government. So everything is privately financed through the kindness of some very generous people."
"And goblins," Jayne added.
"And goblins," Jane agreed. "Though they may take offense to being called generous."
"So what then?" Sam questioned. "I sign into slavery for a few years and get the good medicine?"
Jane shook her head. "Nothing so dramatic. We are only asking for your help for as long as it takes to correct the errors of the Pax. We're hoping you'll want to stay and get a life close to that which you signed on for when you first moved to Miranda, but no matter how you decide we will help you in any way reasonably possible."
Jane saw Sam was considering her words. "Don't worry. You're not supposed to have an answer yet. This is just something to think about and will be further discussed as a therapist evaluates your improvement and mental well-being. It is the road the vast majority of people have chosen, but there are other options as well."
Sam nodded and asked, "What other options?"
"As you saw in the second movie, magic is real and a very powerful force," Jane replied. "Some people are unable to accept what they used to be, and what they've done. With the use of magic, a wizard can make you forget. It's a long and tedious process, but we can erase the last fifteen years from your memory completely. Some of the people helping have agreed to help for now, but once the Reavers have been suitably dealt with, then, after that, they are going to have their memories wiped and wish to go back towards life elsewhere, completely oblivious to the fact that they used to be a Reaver, that they were on Miranda ever, as well as unaware then that magic is even real. We're hoping time may change their minds, but if that is your wish it too can be done."
Sam shook his head. "I can't even imagine how you could take that knowledge and understanding away."
"And with it gone, you wouldn't need to," Jane replied. She hesitated a moment before adding, "Another option is that some people simply will never be able to accept and understand what they've done. Suicidal thoughts are unfortunately quite common. If that is the case, we're prepared to assist with that as well."
"I just got my life back," Sam said shaking his head. "If you all think you can keep me from turning into one of those things again, then I'm not ready to give that up."
"You're stronger than many," Jane said, thinking about the people who remembered the things they'd done to their very own loved ones. "But even among a few of those, we have some people who have agreed to help until the Reavers are sorted out, and wish to die after that. Even more so with them, we're hoping time may change their minds.
"Many people argued the merciful thing with Reavers would have been to simply exterminate them before they harmed more innocents. When you consider healing a victim forces them to be aware and conscious of the atrocities they unwittingly committed… For some a torturous existence is worse than none at all.
"But the consensus was that the most merciful thing we could do would be to offer each individual the choice. Thankfully almost all of the victims agree to at least postponing their decision until everyone suffering from the same debilitating madness is capable of making a choice."
Sam couldn't contain his yawn, and Jane could see he was fading fast.
"Just some things for you to think about," Jane said and pulled a remote control from her pocket. "There are a half dozen other optional movies, if you want to catch up on the last fifteen years. We're going to be watching your chemical imbalance as it should have just about stabilized by now. If all goes well, in the morning we'll transfer you down to the fourth floor."
Sam nodded and took the remote. "What's on the fourth floor?"
"That's where the therapists will be examining your behavior," Jane said as she got up to leave the room. "Impress them and you'll be out of here and eating meat in no time."
Sam smiled a little and had already shut his eyes as he was drifting off for an extremely restless night of sleep.
Lenny entered the room, pushing a wheelchair and saw Sam was half-heartedly watching a movie about the sporting events he'd miss out on.
"Good morning, Sam," Lenny greeted. "Did you get some sleep?"
Sam stopped the movie and grunted in response.
Lenny smiled sadly. "Nightmares, huh?"
Sam nodded.
"Everyone gets them," Lenny admitted. "The only ones who didn't have nightmares had much larger problems."
"You got 'em?" Sam asked looking at Lenny.
Lenny nodded with certainty.
"How long did they last?"
"It varies. Having a significant other sleeping with you has helped quite a few," Lenny explained. "As for me, I'll let you know if they ever stop."
An uncomfortable silence settled while Sam just winced, hoping all his nights weren't going to be like last night.
"Want to talk about it?" Lenny asked.
Sam sighed and let a breath out. "I'm going to have to talk about them, aren't I?"
"Not to me, you're not," Lenny said. "If you want to, I'll listen. But if it's all the same to you, I'd recommend just saving it for the shrinks and mind healers. Because with them, you will have to."
Sam nodded and remembered a question he had earlier, "How'd you get in here? I went to the bathroom last night but couldn't find a door. Certainly adds a nice prison vibe."
"You want to get outta here?" Lenny asked. "Your room downstairs is still getting made up, but I can take you for a little tour of the hospital, if you'd like."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I wouldn't mind stretching my legs."
"Sorry, Sam. No can do on that one. You have to ride while I push, if you want out."
"I'm not allowed to walk around?"
"In this room, you can, but once you sit in the chair, you don't get up until someone else lets you. So make sure you hit the head, before sitting."
Sam nodded and was stretching his legs. He went to the bathroom and came back out. Lenny was standing behind the wheelchair and let Sam have a seat.
"Whoa," Sam commented. "This is a lot more comfortable than it looks."
"Yup," Lenny explained. "There's a cushioning charm and a sticking charm. That's why you can't get up until a wizard releases you."
Sam lifted his arms and legs but he realized his rear was stuck and going nowhere. "This magic stuff is weird."
"Yup," Lenny explained. "And this is going feel weird too, so close your eyes."
Sam agreed and let Lenny push him outside of the room.
"You can open your eyes now," Lenny explained.
"How'd we get out here?" Sam asked looking down the hall and seeing a number of people walking around the barren hallway.
Lenny began pushing Sam down the hallway and explained, "The doors are hidden so that only those authorized can enter or leave the rooms. Your vision would've fogged as I pushed you through. It's really disorienting, that's why I had you close your eyes."
"Is it like this everywhere?" Sam asked wondering how many doors there were in this hall, because he couldn't see any of them.
"Nope," Lenny explained. "This is the fifth floor, where the victims start. All the rooms, elevators, and stairways on this floor, and the one above it, are hidden with magic. None of the other floors though. You're improving ahead of the average schedule and are being moved to the fourth floor."
"The sixth floor is hidden like this one?" Sam asked seeing a doctor seem to appear in front of him.
"Yeah," Lenny answered. "That's where the people who aren't responding to treatment get sent. Close your eyes, we're at the elevator."
Sam scrunched one eye closed but left the other one open as Lenny pushed him into the elevator. "Whoa," he commented. "That is unpleasant."
Lenny chuckled. "No one believes me when I tell them. They all gotta learn the hard way." Lenny pushed the button for the fourth floor.
Sam thought it was curious he didn't even see buttons for the fifth or sixth floors. "Are there many who don't respond to treatment?"
"Not too many," Lenny explained. "Some of them I think have irreparable brain damage beyond the Pax. But the sixth floor is also where you go to get your memory erased."
Sam looked over his shoulder at Lenny and saw the elevator doors appear before him and open. "They can really do that? Erase memories?"
Lenny nodded and pushed Sam out into the fourth floor. "Yup. For the second generation ones, that's about the only option."
"Second generation what?"
"Reavers," Lenny said. "On your left is a chapel. Father Bob likes to hold mass and encourages everyone to join, regardless of faith. He used to be a Reaver too. Good guy to talk to, if you want as well."
"Wait," Sam interrupted. "Second generation Reavers? There are babies?"
"No, nothing like that," Lenny explained. "It's just every once in a while, mixed among all the other Reavers, there are those who act like Reavers, think like Reavers, but don't have a drop of the Pax in their system."
"How's that possible?" Sam asked.
"Mind if I sit?" Lenny asked. "We've got time to kill."
"Fine by me," Sam replied. "Not like I could stop you anyway."
Lenny stopped over near a waiting area and sat on a couch facing Sam. "No one's really sure about how they got turned into Reavers, but the theory I hear is that they were captured by Reavers and forced to watch as their spouses or children were torn apart and destroyed, probably raped and eaten. And for some reason or another the Reavers either didn't know there was a normal person around, or let them live. And seeing these things just caused them to snap, the madness of what they witnessed destroying their own sense of right and wrong.
"Man's basic instinct of wanting to belong remained and eventually they just joined in," Lenny finished in a whisper. "But their heads are all kinds of messed up in ways different from the rest of us. Treatments and stuff, never quite sticking as their normal Pax-free mind developed a taste for violence and flesh. The only way to get through to them is to erase their memories. But on the plus side is that for those people it hasn't been the full fifteen years so not as much erasing. And they're still often unsafe. I think there have only been a dozen of them, but it's not like they tell me who's who. Dunno if any of them have ever been released."
Sam was watching Lenny and saw the idea didn't even sit well with him. "This is all so messed up."
Lenny shrugged. "I gave up trying to find any rationality in it. But after a while you just kind of accept the situation and figure out how to keep going. Pitching in and helping is probably more therapeutic than anything else around here."
"You don't wanna get out of here?" Sam asked. "Away from all this madness?"
"I'm still holding out hope that my sons are going to turn up," Lenny said. "My wife was killed by the Pax, but since I have the dominant M-gene, there's a decent shot either or both of them got the gene recessively and were turned into Reavers."
"I'm sorry," Sam commented, feeling sadder than even Lenny looked. He was struggling to wrap his mind around the absurdity of hoping that your children were turned into Reavers.
"It's unlikely they would've survived this long because they were pretty young," Lenny said having accepted the reality of his situation. "But it gives me… more purpose. That's why I chose working here in the hospital and with admissions. It means I'm closer to them when they show up."
"I didn't understand that stuff about the M-gene in the movies," Sam commented. "Did it really make that much difference?"
"It made all the difference," Lenny explained and looked at the small chart for Sam. "You've got the dominant gene, same as me. If you didn't have it, you would've died fifteen years ago. Since you had it, you got turned into a Reaver."
"So why does it still matter? It was talked about in that magic movie too."
Lenny grinned. "Oh, I see. Yeah, the M-gene is what indicates a magical person. And what you may not have realized is that if we were born on either Earth-That-Was or Miranda, we both would've been wizards."
"I would've been… a wizard?" Sam repeated.
Lenny nodded. "The M-gene is the wizard gene. Dominant would mean a full-fledged, wand-waving, magic-casting wizard. Recessive means partially magical, and a decent shot your kids would be fully magical."
Sam found himself fighting a smile. "I think I would've liked being a wizard."
"You and me both," Lenny agreed. "And that knowledge helps as well, because of the way the wizards want to try and restart the wizarding world. Knowing we could or should have had a place in it makes it seem not so foreign. If things had worked out better centuries ago, then it would've been our world too."
"Hmm," Sam mused. "I hadn't even considered that."
Lenny nodded. "Yup. On top of that too, is that here, everyone knows what happened with the Reavers, everyone understands. Having discolored skin, massive scars, or an eye patch doesn't even faze anyone. I doubt any other planet in the 'verse would take to the idea of a reformed Reaver among them. Can you imagine the stares? No, that's not for me. This place is my home. And I'm still young enough, that I wouldn't mind finding someone new, and having a little wizard or witch of my own one day."
Sam smiled at the thought. "Thanks for this."
"For what?"
"This," Sam nodded motioning between Lenny and himself. "This talk. Hearing that nurse toe the company line made it sound like they were all saints doing us a huge favor, offering help, spending all their money on us, pretending like they're not asking for anything in return."
Lenny shook his head. "Oh the wizards aren't saints. I mean they got an agenda. They're just open and honest about it. Very few people in the 'verse have the M-gene, but the wizards know that every Reaver has it, at least all the first generation ones.
"For us, it's a second chance on life. For them, it's the best shot at recreating the civilization they left behind on Earth-That-Was."
"You think that's their only agenda?" Sam asked.
Lenny shrugged. "It's the only one I've ever heard of and it makes sense. Considering I was a mindless, vicious beast before they helped me, I'm inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt."
"Yeah," Sam grumbled. "I just hate being indebted to anyone."
Lenny laughed and stood up. "Well, then maybe you should help them out and see if you can't pitch in a little."
Sam sighed and seemed to reluctantly agree.
"Alright, let's finish this tour," Lenny said as he began to push Sam again. "On your left is this floor's cafeteria."
"Uh oh," Sam commented seeing a man getting pelted with grapes. "Lovers' quarrel?"
Lenny snickered. "That's Dr. Tam. He's pretty much the head of the medical department, or at least the non-magical side of it. He worked on my cheeks."
"Is that an escapee from the maternity ward?"
"That's his pregnant fiancée, Kaylee," Lenny explained watching the doctor sit there quietly ignoring the fruit hitting him in the face. "She comes to have two or three lunches a day with him. She's the primary mechanic and fixes up all the ships for the Reaver capture teams. Cheeriest girl you'll ever meet as long as she gets her pickles and strawberries."
"They don't seem like former Reavers or the wizarding type," Sam commented.
"What makes you say that?" Lenny knew Sam was right but was curious how he could tell.
"Working on spaceships or modern medicine aren't exactly the fields people from centuries ago should be proficient at," Sam commented. "And they're too young and pretty to be like us."
"You're right. They're both from Serenity, the ship and crew that started this all." Lenny continued as he pushed them down the hall. He took a right and explained, "You see these bigger offices? These are where some of the group sessions happen. The ones on this floor are for the patients who haven't been released. The floor below has the same layout, and conducts group sessions for those who don't live in the hospital anymore. That's where my groups meet."
"Holy crap," Sam said trying to stop their movement. "Is that a Companion?"
"Hmm?" Lenny stopped. "Who? Inara?"
"Yeah, that's a Companion," Sam said.
"Really?" Lenny said. "Are you sure?"
Sam nodded. "You can tell just by her gait. Something about an air of elegance and confidence in their training. Same way you can spot a soldier among civilians, Companions just stick out."
"That's news to me," Lenny said. "I've never had her for group therapy, but she usually works more with women."
"What's she doing here?" Sam asked, letting Lenny start pushing his chair again.
"I heard she was the cook on Serenity," Lenny said. "But the Captain is awfully protective of her, so who knows."
"Who else is from Serenity?"
"Well, I think you met Mr. Cobb, who sometimes goes on Reaver hunts, and sometimes helps Nurse Conrad."
"He's the one who likes to shoot me?"
Lenny chuckled. "Yeah, that's probably him. And I told you about Inara, Kaylee, and Dr. Tam. Then there's Zoe and River, who do a lot of hunting. River is Dr. Tam's little sister. She's kinda… peculiar. And a bit scary. I'm honestly not sure whether she and Harry are a couple or not. But Harry and the Captain are sort of the unofficial leaders of the planet. Most people call the Captain 'Sheriff Reynolds,' but I would advise against saying that anywhere he can hear you."
Sam got the feeling gossip ran rampant around this place. "Why's that?"
"Well, I mean there hasn't really been any formal governing body or police set up around here. Obviously, we're not exactly going to get any federal help, so people kept bringing their problems and squabbles to Captain Reynolds. He was a Sergeant in the Unification War and has that sort of leadership quality about him."
"No police force at all?" Sam inquired curiously. "With a group this large, and especially considering how volatile it could be, isn't that a bit… risky?"
"With all the wizards who can do magic, and trigger-happy folks with tranquilizer guns, it's easy to put people down, and straighten things out when everyone is a bit calmer. I think they may have talked about trying to get a Chief of Police or a Sheriff, but it's just not come up or they haven't found anyone yet. Why, you interested?"
"I don't know what I'm doing," Sam hesitantly answered. "But I was a Deputy here on Miranda."
"Hey Lenny," Harry called out as he and River approached. "You haven't slipped and eaten any babies, have you?"
Sam's eyes just widened to hear this punk kid joking about that.
"Harry," River warned. "You're scaring the newbie."
"Sam's made of stronger stuff than that," Harry retorted waving her off. "Pleased to meet you, Sam. I'm Harry."
"Hello, Harry," Sam said shaking his hand. "How do you know me?"
"The Captain's been on my case to appoint a Sheriff, so when a cop-turned-Reaver is breezing through rehab I snuck a few peeks at some charts," Harry greeted.
"You making plans for me already?" Sam asked warily.
"Naw," Harry shook his head. "But a fella can hope though, can't he? And most cops I've known try to do the right thing more often than the easy one. It's the administrators and politicians you gotta watch out for."
"Prejudiced much?" Sam retorted.
"Not too much," River answered for Harry. "Maybe a little."
"His room's all set Lenny," Harry answered. "Take it easy till lunch, Sam. You're meeting with Dr. Hobbes after lunch, and then unless you object, I'll be tackling some mind healing with you."
"Mind healing?" Sam asked curiously.
Harry glanced at Lenny and added, "Lenny will fill you in. And you can stand up too, if you want. We're meeting Kaylee for either another late breakfast, or another early lunch. I'm not sure she even knows the difference."
Harry turned and was dragged away by River towards the cafeteria.
Sam watched them go and stood up, glad to be out of the wheelchair. "He's going to be doing mind healing with me? What is mind healing? And how long have I been able to stand?"
"Mind healing is where a wizard goes into your head, makes sure the Reaver-ish tendencies are gone, checks if you're burying any memories from yourself, evaluates if you're going to be a danger."
"Goes into my head?" Sam asked, following Lenny towards his room. "Like reads my thoughts and stuff?"
Lenny winced but nodded. "Yeah. I'm not gonna lie to you. It's not painful, and it doesn't hurt. But you'll never feel more vulnerable, open, and helpless than someone else seeing your every thought and memory."
"And that kid is a wizard? I thought you said he was part of the Serenity crew?"
"Harry's… unique," Lenny tried to diplomatically explain. "I've heard so many different things I'm not even sure what to believe. He wasn't with the other wizards, so I don't even know where he came from. I'm told he's over 150, and pretty much every other wizard treats him with awe. Even though Dr. Fullerton is over 160, he was supposedly named after Harry along with lots of other wizards. They say he's way more powerful than all of the rest and he does seem more comfortable with magic than any other wizard. Sometimes he'll do magic and you won't even realize it. Like when he canceled the sticking charm on your chair."
"That guy?" Sam asked skeptically thinking he looked so much younger than all the other people identified as wizards.
Lenny nodded. "He doesn't usually do mind healing, so I guess he thinks you're a special case."
"What happens if I refuse the mind healing?" Sam asked.
Lenny shook his head. "You'll never get released without it. But you can request a different mind healer. There's a half dozen wizards capable of it, not counting a few others like Harry and Dr. Fullerton."
Sam grunted in frustration.
"Here's your room," Lenny said waving towards it. "Main difference is this floor has windows, and you can move around. And listen, I know how unpleasant the idea of someone inside your head is, but frankly I'm grateful for it. It is a physically harmless process and it's just about the closest thing to a certainty that we won't ever turn into one of those monsters again. They don't do it because they want to make you uncomfortable, and they don't record any of your fears, shames, or even crimes you may have committed. And that one wizard is then someone, who knows the real you. A lot of people find that sometimes that wizard knows them better than they know themselves. But if you're not comfortable, you can put it off until you are comfortable."
Sam had walked over to the window and was looking out and down on the street. He saw a few strange, little brown things that he figured must have been goblins.
Lenny added, "The Pax turned us all into bombs and until someone confirms that you're diffused, no one around will ever really trust you. I'll go get you some lunch. Dr. Hobbes will be with you in about an hour."
Sam glanced back and nodded slightly before becoming lost in his thoughts. He found it hard to believe that this was what reality had turned into and his current understanding was what passed for sanity on this planet.
"Sheriff Reynolds!"
"Who said that?" Mal snapped whipping around. "Who was it?"
Harry raised a curious eyebrow. "Is your gun loaded with bullets or tranq darts?"
"What's that matter?"
"Well if it's bullets," Harry replied, "then I'm not sure who said it. But if it's tranquilizers, then it was River."
Mal saw River pointing at Harry from behind Harry's back. He noticed everyone else around the landing docks working on the various spaceships were doing their best to keep their eyes averted.
Harry knew very well what River was doing and ignored her, "And I come bearing good news."
"How good?"
Harry smiled. "It's just about time."
"Really?" Mal asked.
"Yup," Harry answered. "I just spent four hours sorting through the brain of cop with a righteous streak, and it is only a matter of time before he gets released."
"That's a good start," Mal said. "What about the other thing?"
"I know you disagree, but Dr. Fullerton and I both believe this is something we must do."
"You're asking for trouble Harry," Mal said. "But if that's what it takes to get us back in the air, I'm all for it."
Harry grinned. "Not going to try talk me out of this again?"
Mal shook his head.
"You really are itching to get out of here, aren't you?"
Mal shrugged. "This is your world, not mine. I've seen your memories of the wizarding world, but it's more like a movie to me. If you all are thoroughly convinced this is absolutely necessary, then so be it. You'd probably know better than me. And yeah, it's been three months since we even took Serenity back into the sky where she belongs."
River smiled. "It is time. There'll always be the cabinets to get back and forth instantly, but the citizens of Miranda don't need us the way they used to."
"You know they want to change the name of the planet," Harry said. "And I kinda understand why. So if you all have any suggestions for a new name, please pass them along."
"How about Luna?" River said with a smile.
Harry groaned. "Besides that."
"Doesn't Luna mean moon?" Mal questioned. "And what's so bad about Luna?"
Harry gave him a tired look. "Because most of the people that like that one think they are doing it for me or to annoy me. Right now it's the most popular idea, and I don't really need my ego boosted any more."
"Who suggested it in the first place?" River asked, having a pretty decent idea.
"I'm sure you can guess," Harry admitted.
"Who?" Mal asked with a grin. "Because naming a magical planet 'moon' is about as logical as the wizarding world is."
"Luna's portrait told them to name the planet after her," Harry said with a sigh. "And unless we can come up with something better, I'm pretty sure that's what they're going with."
"Naw," Mal smirked at Harry's discomfort. "I like that. Maybe there's a moon orbiting here that can get terraformed and named Planet."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You guys want to come? Frank's taking us so it shouldn't even be a full day. While Fullerton and I are taking care of business, Algernon and Peeves are gonna try and swipe some more fuel for Frank. You could help with the thievery, if you want."
"I think I'll wait here," Mal replied. "But you kids have fun."
"Is it Inara's night off?" Harry turned to River.
River nodded solemnly.
"Well that explains everything," Harry said with an obvious wink at the Captain.
River was snickering. "Captain? Are you struggling to figure out if you should be embarrassed or not?"
"Good luck, Harry," Mal said not wanting to continue this conversation any further.
"Why can't Frank just head straight that way? And then we use the cabinets when he's close?" River asked Harry.
"He's gotta drop off some medicine here first," Harry answered. "So we might as well just board him normally."
"Couldn't we just take the medicine through the cabinets too though?"
Harry stopped and wondered how long they'd been using Frank for deliveries and never caught on to this. "Umm… we're uncertain of the… potential magical backlashes."
River rolled her eyes not believing Harry for a second. Simon, Fullerton and Algernon were walking up to them, just as Frank the hyperdrive spaceship touched down and greeted the group.
"I just had a brilliant idea," Harry said to the three approaching men. "We don't need Frank to ever actually make deliveries here. Everything he picks up, we can just get through the cabinets."
River punched Harry in the shoulder.
"Oh and River wants to try and steal credit for that idea from me," Harry said.
"We do that quite often," Simon answered. "But Frank and Peeves like the feel of being on the planet, the magic in the air around here I suppose."
"Not to mention it's kind of rude to Frank," Fullerton added. "He's a good friend, not just a ship to order around at your whims."
"I told you your idea was silly, River," Harry said to her like he was speaking to a small child.
Simon took the two crates from the surprisingly pleasant Peeves. "Thanks Lieutenant," Simon saluted the poltergeist who saluted back.
"River's going to help you steal some juice for Frank," Harry commented. "You guys ready?"
Fullerton and Algernon nodded and boarded the magically alive ship.
"Be careful, River," Simon said giving her a small hug. "You've got your invisibility cloak?"
River nodded and followed Harry onto the small spacecraft.
"How are you feeling, Frank?" Harry asked as the door sealed closed behind them.
"Not too bad, not too bad at all," Frank answered. "We gonna drop in on Antonio?"
The four people were all seated comfortably up on the bridge, as Frank the ship took off towards the sky.
"Nope," Harry said. "We'll bring him up to speed on the way. He'll be conveniently working late, when an emergency session gets called."
"Excellent," Frank agreed. "I love a nice threat of violence to go with my blackmail."
"Alright ladies and gentlemen," Harry said feeling surprisingly dramatic. "It is time to tell the Alliance about the Wizarding World."