Chaotic Thought
by Beth Green
Please Note: MAJOR Spoilers for the movie. After watching those last agonizing scenes, my muses insisted that I present Simon's point of view.
He'd been shot before, but that was as nothing compared to this. The projectile that attempted to cleave him in half struck like a taloned claw, digging through skin and muscle and past omentum to pierce his very bowels. His legs went numb as he fell back. The physician part of his brain realized that his body was shunting blood away from his extremities and toward his vital organs in an effort to keep him alive. The same part of his brain knew that the body's preservation methods were woefully inadequate to the current situation. Trying to think while he could still do so, Simon was as close to panicking as he'd ever been.
Oh, God, he couldn't die, not like this! Not when a simple injection from his med kit could save Kaylee. His grip on life loosened a little at that thought. His med kit was on the other side of the solid protection of the bulkhead door. Beyond that door lie the creatures that were killing them all, the once-human beings now some twisted mockery of the species thanks to the meddling of the Alliance. He had no sympathy for the creatures known as the Reavers. They could kill without a second's hesitation, without a thought, without regret, without remorse. A lot like River.
His eyes closed at the thought of his beloved sister. He could not help the lone tear that escaped. As if conjured by his thoughts, River was suddenly at his side. It was a measure of the severity of his injury that he had forgotten her ability to read minds. His sister placed her hands over the open wound in his abdomen, futilely trying to staunch the flow of blood. He tried to explain, tried to tell her that if by some miracle the Reavers were defeated, if she could get to his med kit, there was a vial that would save Kaylee, treatment that would slow his own inevitable slide toward death. It was no use. They had known it, all of them, when they'd agreed to accompany Mal upon his latest quest. They were all going to die. The Shepherd and Wash had already gone on ahead. The remainder of Serenity's crew would shortly follow.
Simon would not regret any of it if he had succeeded in the one goal he'd dedicated his final days to: saving his sister. He could feel tears threatening to escape as he realized what an ultimate failure he'd proved to be. His brilliant planning, the months of plotting, their frantic flight from one solar system to the next meant nothing. His efforts had been useless. River was trapped with them in this last refuge on a forgotten planet populated by the dead. He tried to apologize to his sister, tried to tell her how much she meant to him, how his love for her was everything. In his extremity, he did not remember her extrasensory talents. Did not remember that she would be picking up on his very thoughts. Not until it was far too late.
"Simon, you've always taken care of me." She paused and he saw the change come over her. The frightened young girl was replaced by a mechanical warrior, a gen-gineered killing machine. Her voice determined and deadly, she declared, "Now it's my turn."
He reached out a hand, trying to hold her back, but she was already gone. As the doors closed he saw her being pulled down by the bloodthirsty Reavers. With a tremendous effort, his sister accomplished her goal: she retrieved Simon's med kit and slid it through the door. Simon released the tears he'd been holding back. "Ah, mei-mei, it's all for nothing! A med kit is of no use if the doctor is dead." He could no longer fight back the gravity of his wound. Shock, trauma, and blood loss left him frozen in place surrounded by his injured friends. There was nothing more to do but to wait for death to claim them.