I know, I know, its been ages without an update. Life has come crashing down on my writing time. But here is shiny chapter 13. After this, maybe 1 or 2 chapters till the end.

Please review - just because I love reading them.

Chapter 13: We Do What We Can

Kaylee sits with Simon until he wakes up. Six hours. She holds his hand and tries talking to him, but none of it makes a difference. Kaylee shifts her position on the stool and bites her lip, tears welling again in her already red-rimmed eyes. Oh Simon, please wake up. She vividly remembers him rubbing her cheek when she woke up in here. Please Simon. How could you be that stupid? Drugs? Why? Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't I notice? There are purple shadows under his eyes, and a bandage on his temple where he hit it on the floor. Kaylee tries to keep her eyes away from that.

Simon's eyes slowly flicker open. He looks at her briefly with his bloodshot gaze then slides his eyes away. He takes in his infirmary carefully. Why is there a triceratops sitting on his clean work surface?

"Thank God." More tears run down Kaylee's face. "Simon…why did you do it?" Her fingers tighten round his.

He doesn't reply, just turns his face to the wall.

"Getting River's initials carved into you arm ain't gonna help you."

"What would you know?" his voice is full of pain.

"Plenty," comes a voice from the doorway. "Not all of it useful. Kaylee can I have a few moments with our good doctor."

"Yes Mal," Kaylee lets go of his hand, and Simon can hear her moving out of the room.

Heavier footsteps come his way and Simon knows when he's in trouble. Mal leans right over him. Simon turns his head and finds himself caught right in the middle of the stare Mal only usually reserves for people he's about to kick through an engine. When he finally speaks his voice is low and dangerous. "You pull this stunt again and you will go out the airlock. I will not tolerate you endangering my crew or my ship."

He leans back and folds his arms. Simon stays silent, his head pounding from the comedown from the drops and the combination of whatever else they've pumped him with. He knows Mal will carry out his threat if he has too.

"I know Kaylee has a soft spot for you doc. Blindsides her sometimes. Thinks she can save you or some such. All noble and heroic and romantic, but not practical. You understand logic being a doctor and all. She might hate me for a spell. Might even cry. But it's logical." Mal pauses and Simon feels sick, imagining what is coming next. "She'll get over you."

Simon's stomach plummets to somewhere in his feet, which since he's lying down seems implausible.

"As of now you are confined to you quarters and banned from the infirmary indefinitely. And don't be looking for any 'hits' in here now, we've locked up anything you can get high on." Mal puts his face close to Simon's. "I will not have a junkie doctor on my ship dong ma?"

"Yessir," Simon murmurs.

"Good." Mal turns and leaves the infirmary.

Simon stares at the white ceiling for a minute. Suddenly he starts to laugh out loud. And for a long frightening moment he couldn't stop.

Wash hears Zoë climbing down the ladder and rolls over so he's facing away from her side of the bed. Zoë sighs and undresses before slipping under the covers.

"Honey?"

Wash grunts, still pretending to be asleep.

"I know you're awake Wash."

He sighs audibly.

"Look I didn't mean it to sound harsh…"

"What happened to not leaving a man behind?" Wash interrupted.

Zoë thinks he sounds a bit hurt. "Simon needs medical help. None of us are doctors. Do you know the after effects of an overdose? Does Mal? I sure don't. If we leave it will he be ok? Will he die horribly slowly?"

Wash digests this and wonders if he saw the war Zoë at that table. He rolls over to face her. "Zoë. We don't leave people. If that was Kaylee or Mal would you leave them?"

She winces. "It had to be said…someone had to at least suggest it, get it out of the way. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't what people wanted to hear. Least I didn't upset Kaylee like the captain." She meets his eyes. "And as much as I hate to say this, Jayne is right."

Wash stifles a half laugh and slips his hand around his wife's waist. He can never stay mad at her for long. "Come here."

Simon opens his eyes slowly, the room spinning, and can hear them talking outside his door. They've moved him back to his own room. He's pretty sure that they've locked the door after what Mal said to him.

His tattoo is itching like crazy underneath the bandage they put over it. In order to take his mind off it he tries to pick out words from beyond the door.

"…We take turns. Jayne you're up first."

"But Captain…"

"No Kaylee."

"Ruttin' crazy…" something in Jayne's voice doesn't sound completely convinced in what he is saying.

Simon becomes aware of the gnawing pain in his stomach and knows exactly what it means. It feels like someone had removed all his internal organs, like an autopsy, leaving nothing in their place. He can't think about that pain. If he does he will go insane.

Simon gets unsteadily to his feet and tries the door. Like he suspected it's locked. He feels a flash of anger. How dare they lock him up like an animal?

"Let me out!" he yells, kicking at the door. "Let me out!"

"No doctor, you're staying put," Mal's voice floats back calmly.

"Its for the best," Kaylee's voice shakes a little.

Simon's tone turns wheedling. "Please Kaylee. I'm alright. I just need a couple…just enough to stop the pain. I know what I'm doing. Come on Kaylee, for me?"

"No," Mal answers, his tone flat and very hard. "You can scream yourself hoarse for all I care."

Simon is sure he hears a tiny whispered, "I'm sorry" from Kaylee as their footsteps move away.

"Don't even think about asking me," Jayne growls at him.

Simon goes back to the bed and lays down.

"I told you he was drowning."

Both men pretend they haven't heard the soft voice. Simon turns his face to the wall and waits to die.

Inara goes to sit with him and finds him shivering violently. She tucks heavy blankets around him, while he fitfully sleeps. He keeps waking up, half delirious. There are sweat beads on his forehead.

"I'm cold."

She touches the side of his face gently. His skin is burning to touch. Inara lays the cool damp cloth against his forehead again. Tenderly she strokes his face and hair until he closes his eyes again. "Leave me alone…" he mumbles weakly.

"Ssshh Simon. I'm not leaving you."

The door slides open softly.

"How is he?" Kaylee asks stepping in. She comes and kneels by the bunk and Inara's stool.

"He's…"

Simon rolls over, gagging and Inara has a bowl under his mouth without any fuss.

"Oh baby," Kaylee sits on the edge of the bed and strokes his back while he throws up. Finally he sinks back into the pillows. He starts to cry.

Kaylee climbs fully onto the bed and gathers him into her arms. He sinks against her, his face buried somewhere in her chest, making her shirt wet. He doesn't move his arms around her, he has no right to. He breathes in the scent of engine grease and Serenity, and it makes him cry harder. He doesn't deserve this. He isn't worthy of her. She shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be holding me, she should be angry with me. Should be hating me. Kaylee runs her fingers up his back and through his hair, making him tremble. He closes his eyes tightly. She smells like strawberries, like Kaylee, and after how he has behaved he doesn't deserve her.

Mal just knows something is wrong the moment he wakes up. He prowls out of his room, and tries to work out why he woke. He soundlessly moves through his ship until he reaches the passenger quarters. Mal can hear muffled sobbing, like someone stuffing a pillow into their face. He knew it would be here, knew it would be him. He sighs and slides open the door.

"Doc?"

The bed is rumpled but empty. One of Wash's toy triceratops is laying on the floor, next to an empty bowl and one of Inara's heavily patterned blankets. Mal steps back and listens, trying to distinguish the source of the sound. He goes to the next door and pauses. He doesn't want to open this door. He swallows and opens it.

Simon is laying on her bed, curled into the foetal position, wearing just grey pyjama bottoms and pressing his cheek into River's pillow. His whole body is shaking as he tries to keep his sobs quiet. A stack of drawings is scattered across the floor. Clutched in his hands is a cream jumper. Mal recognises it as one of River's, which they had bought for her on Greenleaf as a surprise. They had been fed up of the poor girl shivering. Simon's hands are knotted in the jumper and he is holding it against his mouth.

"Simon?" Mal says as softly as he can, while closing the door behind him. Save the boy more humiliation should someone else wake up. There is the teeniest pause in the sobbing, but Simon stays where he is. Mal sits on the edge of the bunk next to his feet. "Simon," he repeats more firmly.

There is no reaction from the boy on the bed. Mal sighs again and wonders what to do. Maybe he should get Inara. But she's spent every spare moment she has of the past three days sitting in Simon's room. She holds the bowl when he throws up, tucks him in at night, listens to his babbling. Even Kaylee hasn't spent as much time there, every time she does, she ends up crying. Mal can't wake Inara. It isn't fair. He's on his own. No one said captaining would turn into mothering.

Mal silently pulls Simon to him. He's seen him calm River from her night terrors; maybe the same thing will work on the other Tam sibling.

"Ssshhh ssshhh," Mal murmurs gently, rocking Simon back and forth, and feeling like an utter fool. He's glad he closed the door.

Simon twists the jumper in his hands and doesn't make any attempt to explain this away, make it appropriate, make it proper.

"She killed herself," he sobs. "Oh God. She did this." He chokes and a flurry of sobs engulfs him. "Why can't I stop? I need help. River, I need her." He screws his eyes tight shut and buries his head against Mal's shoulder.

Mal rubs his back awkwardly.

"She'll never forgive me."

Mal doesn't know if he means River or Kaylee, and doesn't ask.

"I don't want to feel like this! I want it over. Wasn't good enough, couldn't fix her, couldn't save her…" Simon looks up and his eyes will haunt Mal for a long time. "I tried," his voice cracks. "I did. Not good enough."

"Now that ain't true." Mal feels Simon shivering next to him and grabs River's blanket. He throws it round Simon's shoulders. "What happened wasn't your fault."

"But…why do I hurt so much?" his voice is a confused child's.

"That's the way of death. Way of life. We all die. Someday. Hers was just sooner than God intended. Don't mean you didn't help her."

"I never got to say goodbye."

Mal nods silently, not knowing what to say.

"I wanted to feel something," Simon's voice is a ragged whisper. "Feel anything. Then when I did…I wanted to block it all out." He wraps his arms around his stomach, looking sick. "I didn't really want to…it seemed the easy way…Oh God Kaylee." Simon buries his face in his hands.

"Go back to bed Simon."

Simon nods and gets unsteadily to his feet, River's jumper still in his hands. Mal places a hand on the boys shoulder and steers him back to his own room. Simon gets back into his own bunk, still refusing to let go of the jumper and River's blanket round him.

"Goodnight Simon."

Mal turns to leave, but Simon's hand whips out of the blanket with more force than Mal would have expected. He grabs Mal's wrist in a death grip.

"I need help. You have to help me."

"We will." Mal twists his wrist and breaks the doc's grip. He leaves the room, and shuts the door. He mutters to himself. "If we can."