Acknowledgements: Much love and thanks to tafkar for the speedy beta, and to skripka for her suggestions and comments. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Notes: Feedback and criticism appreciated. No archiving without permission.
At first, they had been polite. At first. "We have a series of coincidences to discuss with you, Miss Serra. ... According to guild records, you were on Ariel for your annual check up at the same time two fugitives were spotted in the company of a man named Jayne Cobb at a hospital there. ... You took a client on an unnamed moon, owned by a Mr. Higgins, again at the same time that this Jayne Cobb was observed there. ... A client of yours got into an altercation with a man named Malcolm Reynolds and swore out a formal complaint stating that a prior connection between you and this Reynolds was the catalyst. This Reynolds is rumored to emply Jayne Cobb. He is also rumored to own a Firefly-class ship. ... These fugitives are believed to have escaped justice by boarding a Firefly-class ship.
On and on it continued with Inara giving polite, non-committal responses until her mouth was dry and her lips cracked.
Then they were not so polite. Inara told herself she didn't remember that part very well. She huddled on her cot, grateful for the chance to sleep and tried to think of something, anything except flashes of blue against her peripheral vision. There was a lot she didn't remember these days. No, she didn't remember seeing the two fugitives. No, she didn't know where Reynolds's ship could be found. No. No. No.
She tried to kill herself once, but they caught her. After that, she just prayed to die.
She fantasized a lot. Mal and Zoe bursting in with guns blazing. Then it was not her blood that dripped to the floor like spilled ink; it was theirs, these men with hands of blue. Sometimes she was the one who found an opening, broke free, escaped.
It wouldn't be long, she knew. Maybe the next time they came she'd tell them. There was already a voice in her head whispering that it couldn't harm anything. They already knew so much.
She wished she still had her clothes or even a blanket. She was cold and the light was too bright. If she had a blanket she could wrap herself in it. She could block it all out. She could fall asleep.
She did not flinch when the hand covered her mouth. She was past caring about such things. She did not even open her eyes. They'd tell her to get up if that was what they wanted. She just lay there, waiting. There was a rustle. The brush of air near her ear, and a slight breath. "Inara, don't scream. It's me, Simon."
She had never imagined that. Funny that it would be her first hallucination. Funny that Simon would tell her not to scream. She'd stopped long ago. Her throat hurt too much, and it gave them too much information. "Can you open your eyes?"
She frowned. She really needed to stop hallucinating. It would be a lot harder to keep from letting information slip if she didn't. Maybe she should try to kill herself again. Maybe later. Lips grazed her ear. "Can you walk?" The hand covering her mouth was removed. She couldn't hold back a whimper of protest. It had been so long since she'd felt the touch of skin.
Skin.
Not gloves. Not metal instruments. Skin.
She opened her eyes. She blinked. Again. The light was bright, but even so... it really did look like ... "Simon?"
He sighed in relief. "Inara, can you walk?"
She started to nod, but her neck was stiff. "Ye-es," she croaked. Her throat was still pretty raw.
He blushed as she sat up, suddenly seeming to realize that she was naked. He turned then, hastily removing his shirt and handing it to her behind his back. That more than anything convinced her he was real. She was certainly beyond caring about such things, beyond even fantasizing about them.
She put the shirt on and stood. Simon turned back toward her then, his eyes remaining fixedly above the hem, which failed to cover her below the waist.
They walked out just like that, Simon walking in front, opening locks with a pilfered key card. She followed behind, stumbling a little on stiff legs, fighting dizziness. She could not seem to catch her breath. He'd tried to support her at first, putting an arm around her to take some of her weight, but she'd shrugged him off. She didn't want to be touched.
At some point, alarms began to sound. Simon moved more quickly then, but also more cautiously. Peeking behind doors before going through them. She just kept walking. She could be shot trying to escape, and it would still be an improvement over the day before.
River was waiting outside when they got there. So were a lot of young people, but they lay on the ground. Still. Inara did not even spare them a glance. Simon did. He blanched and swallowed hard, but said nothing. One of the young people lay on the ground naked. River held a bundle out to Inara. "Clothes," she said. She'd known somehow.
That would bother Inara later when she thought about it. Later when she remembered some of the faces on the ground, remembered seeing them around. Blank, soulless faces. Successful experiments that River had somehow outmatched. But right now Inara simply mumbled "thank you" as she took the bundle. They waited for her to get dressed, and then the three of them stalked off into the woods where Simon and River had hidden their shuttle.
River flew, while Simon examined Inara. He tried to talk to her too, but she ignored him. Her eyes ached, and he kept touching her head, searching her hair. "Your eyes," he said. "Did they ... how did it happen?" Panic in his voice. Inara didn't know what he was talking about.
It was River who answered him. "They didn't cut into her brain," she said. "That's not how it happened." Simon was still checking her over when Inara fell asleep. She woke to eat and to relieve herself, but mostly she slept.
When they arrived back at Serenity, Mal was angry because Simon and River had left on their own after discovering she'd been taken. Inara tuned out what he was saying and pulled away from Kaylee's smothering hug. "I want a shower," she said. She took a step and fainted dead away.
She woke up in the infirmary. "You needed a transfusion," Simon said. "I'm sorry; I should have recognized the signs. But you, you didn't have any wounds."
"It came from my eyes," she said, turning her face away.
"Your eyes? But ... how?" He waited for a moment, but she did not answer. "Black eyes are an after-effect of brain surgery; I was afraid that was why you had so much bruising." He placed an ice pack gently over her face. "I should have realized," he said. "I'm sorry."
"It came from my eyes," she repeated. "My eyes, my nose, my mouth, my nails, my--" she broke off with a sob. "Do I have to stay here?"
Her shuttle was bare, of course. She had taken the furnishings with her when she'd left Serenity with some foolish idea that her relationship with Mal was becoming a problem. That Inara had not known what a problem was. Inara despised her.
She slept in the passenger dorm.
After awhile, she noticed that Book tended to look sad around her, Kaylee confused, Mal angry. That had worried her when she noticed it, before she realized that the anger was not directed at her.
River looked ... Inara stayed away from River. River was too much like those others.
Wash came to see her once. Inara offered him tea. He sat down and began to talk about the war. Something about being captured and held in a prison camp. There were shadow puppets. "So if you ever need someone to talk to," Wash said. "I just wanted you to know that."
Inara tilted her head and smiled. "Thank you for the offer," she replied. "Sugar?"
Simon was the only one allowed to touch her. He was a doctor. He only required her to sit while he ran tests, or checked her progress or whatever doctor-thing popped into his head. He didn't look hurt if she flinched or sniff away poorly hidden tears as she pulled out of hugs. And even though guilt seemed to hang around him like a cloud, he did not look to Inara to do anything about it. He just asked her to sit there. That she could do. She had a lot of practice at that.
She walked a lot, because she could. These doors were not locked against her. Besides, anything was easier than sleeping. She walked all over the ship, and no one tried to stop her. She walked through the cargo bay. She walked into the galley, took food and ate it. She walked past the infirmary. Light spilled from within, and she could see Simon inside, bent over a book, tugging on his ear and whispering to himself.
She did not have to say anything to him. She could go back to her room. She could walk the ship some more. She had yet to visit the cockpit. As she considered her options, he lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed it as if to relieve an ache.
She'd been lying on a cot, cold and aching. Hopeless. "It's me, Simon," he had said. He'd given her the shirt off his back. He'd taken her away from them.
She slid open the infirmary door. "Simon," she croaked. She cleared her throat as he looked up. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," he said, startled. "I was just trying to figure out ..." His voice trailed off. "Did you need something?"
"No, I was just walking by, and I saw you," she said. "You looked troubled." She walked all the way into the infirmary over to him. After so many examinations, she was used to being near him. He tried to cover the page he was reading with his hand. She noticed the movement. Reaching out, she covered his hand in hers and gently pulled it away. Post-traumatic stress disorder, the heading read.
She was touched. She pulled the book from his hands, sat down on the floor and began to read. After a moment, she looked up. "I don't have nightmares," she whispered. "I don't dream at all. I can't--I can't sleep."
He knelt down next to her and looked deep into her face. "Tell me," he said.
She did. Haltingly, at first, and then the words began to spill from her, faster and faster until she had to stop to breathe. She laid her head against his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They sat quietly like that for a long time.
The next day she took a deep breath. Her hands shook as she picked up the hairbrush Mal had bought her along with other things to replace what she'd had to leave behind. She walked to the engine room. Kaylee turned when she came in and smiled hesitantly. "Would you like me to brush your hair?" Inara asked.
She was trying.
Eventually, she slept. There were nightmares. She tried not to be selfish, not when River needed him too. But when Inara cried out, Simon came and read her into a dreamless rest.
Simon fell asleep at the supper table.
Jayne taught her to wield a knife, not much different than a sword. Zoe taught Inara to play dirty with the fancy fighting manuevers she had learned at the academy. Mal taught her how to use a gun. When his breath caught and his pulse quickened as he wrapped an arm around her to correct her aim, Inara pretended not to notice.
She walked the ship often. One night, Kaylee's light trilling laughter drifted up from the lounge. She couldn't tell who she talking to. Suspecting that Kaylee would be disappointed if Inara interrupted a conversation with the doctor, Inara crept toward the room on soft feet.
She was more than a little surprised to find the doctor sitting outside the doorway, eavesdropping on whatever was going on inside. Simon startled as she walked up. He turned hastily, a flush already creeping alongst his ears. "I--I was just." Inara peeked into the room and had to stuff her hand into her mouth quickly to avoid letting out a peal of laughter. It had been a long time since she felt like laughing.
Mal sat on the floor with River behind him. She was busily working his hair into neat puffs of pigtails all over his head. Kaylee was also in the room, laughing madly at the sight. Inara felt a wisp of air next to her ear, followed by Simon's velvety voice. "Kaylee and River were supposed to be watching the stars out of the galley skylight while I finished up some things in the infirmary. I don't know how Mal got involved, but River looked so happy I didn't want to interrupt." Her inner ear was ticklish, she bit down on her hand to keep quiet. "Ever since I can remember River's been in love with space. She had all kinds of complicated telescopes set up around our house. She wanted to ride in a ship more than anything. She--I'm rambling," he said.
"Tell me," she said, moving to sit next to him.
He put his arm around her to pull her closer so that he could whisper in her ear. She liked that. Quickly she kissed his cheek and gauged his reaction through the swinging curtain of her hair. He smiled shyly as he pulled back her hair and leaned toward her ear. "So there was this comet, and River, she ..."
The End