REMEMBER– words and phrases in nonbold italics are what each man wrote and then crossed out. To read the story in its proper form, though, you should hop over to ArchiveOfOurOwn (same story title, author name is Ella_Greggs).

POSTMARKED: "Out of Gas"

Dear Dad,

I saved two lives yesterday. I can't tell you how good it feels to be able to exercise my craft. We may have to be fugitives and even criminals, but at least I still get to be a physician. I haven't forgotten how when I was a kid you made me promise to be a brilliant doctor in exchange for a dedicated source box. Well, out here on the Rim I'm the best doctor around for vast stretches of space! Even the best doctor on whole planets! You might think that's an idle boast, but sadly it's true. Life on the frontier planets is pretty brutal.

Anyway, like I said, we had two potentially fatal injuries on the ship. First one of our crewmembers suffered a severe concussion and some internal injuries as a result of an explosion on the ship. Her husband was terrified he'd lose her and wouldn't leave her side until the captain ordered him away, but I was totally calm. I knew I could save her and prevent brain trauma. The ship was badly damaged in the fire caused by the explosion, though, and we had to evacuate for a while. We sent up a distress beacon and the captain stayed behind to be present if or when someone answered it (our life out here is one constant uncertainty). When we got back to the ship, we discovered he'd been shot by intruders, whom he somehow still managed to scare off. He'd lost so much blood, I was amazed he was still alive and patching him up took more skill, but in honesty the wounds were no match for a brilliant trauma surgeon from Capital City (there's that overweening pride, again!). Fortunately, one of the crew is O-negative, so I was able to perform a direct transfusion via end-to-end anastomosis. I don't think I've ever seen a man so strong and determined as our captain. He can be stern and harsh sometimes, but always wants what's best for the crew. Thankfully for River and me, that includes us. I don't know that we would have survived this long if not for his protection. And that of the rest of the crew, too, who take their lead from him.

Yesterday was also my birthday. Kaylee made me a protein cake with chocolate frosting. There were even candles on the cake. I was so touched. Still, it was a bittersweet event, since the crew only knew it was my birthday because a fresh warrant for our arrest came over the cortex and had the date on it. It's like I can never escape the knowledge the Alliance is hunting for River and me, even when trying to grasp a moment of happiness. But I mustn't complain. Indeed, there's a nice easy fellowship developing between me and the rest of the crew and I fully appreciate it. We all laughed a lot at my informal birthday party (well, up until the deadly explosion put a damper on the festivities). River considers the ship a second home.

I'd say don't worry about us, but how can you not? I worry about us constantly. Still, rest assured we are being as careful as we possibly can out here. I admit it's hard sometimes, always having to be strong for River's sake. When we had to evacuate the ship, I was very concerned. I don't want to die out here in space, never seeing home again, never seeing you and Mom again, never having fully cured River. But I have to stay optimistic. Kaylee is so optimistic about everything, so trusting that all will be well. I have to try to be more like her.

You asked if there was someone on the crew who would look after River if something ever happened to me. There's no one who could treat her medically, but I think most of the crew would do what they could to protect her, even if I was gone. Like I said, the captain seems committed to helping us – he hates the Alliance as much as we do and has no interest in the reward money, which frankly amazes me. God knows it's high enough to set him up for several years. The rest of the crew are all good people, too. Well, there is one man, a crude mercenary, who would probably sell us out if given the chance. He's made no secret of his dislike for me and River and I definitely don't trust him. But he's not in charge and the captain keeps him well in line.

In your last letter you asked me to forgive you. Rereading your older letters, I see this is not the first time you've done that. I want to you listen very carefully to me, Dad. What happened to River was not your fault and I forgave you months ago for ignoring the warning signs that all was not well at the Academy. As for the argument we had at the police station, I've had a lot of time to consider things from your point of view. I've even talked a little with the white-haired man on our crew about it (without mentioning our correspondence, of course), and he helped me see how your reaction was totally understandable. You trusted an evil system, one you'd spent your whole life living under without suspicion. And that day in the police station, you thought your son was throwing away his hard-won career, defying you, in pursuit of a paranoid illusion. The longer I take care of River, the more I see how hard it is sometimes to know how best to look after those you love, how hard it must be to be a parent. So, again, I understand and I forgive you wholeheartedly. I'm just glad your eyes are open now and so grateful we can communicate honestly with each other.

Speaking of communicating, I didn't tell you this before, but River doesn't know about our correspondence. I so want to confide in her, but she seems to have no filter and I can't be certain she wouldn't let it slip out while talking with one of the crew. And they absolutely mustn't find out, as I am sure they would force me to stop. I guess it's very selfish of me to expose everyone with our exchange when they're working so hard to keep us out of the hands of the Alliance and they'd be punished severely if we were ever caught. But I need these letters as much as you do. Maybe when River makes a little more progress, I'll be able to tell her. But for now, all I can do is assure her that you and Mom love us and are looking forward to the day when we can be together again. I know she wants that very much.

Thank you for offering to send money, but it's too risky. My crewmates would notice if I suddenly came into possession of unexplained "coin" and that would lead to questions I definitely don't want to answer. So for the meantime, crime will have to provide.

All my love and I'll write again soon.

Simon

Dear Simon,

I'm just going to say it – thank you for forgiving me. I don't know that I deserve it, but what you wrote means the world to me. And to your mother. She blames herself just as much for ignoring the warning signs in River's letters from the Academy. When she read that portion of your latest letter, she cried. You've grown into such a brave, mature young man.

Even though the circumstances sounded frankly horrifying, I was so proud to read how my son the brilliant doctor saved two gravely injured people after an explosion. I used to wonder sometimes if we'd pushed you into trauma medicine, if you might not have been happier in some other specialty, or even academia. But hearing you talk with such obvious pride about deftly handling blood transfusions and gunshot wounds and concussions, it's clear this is your calling. The best doctor in whole quadrants of space, the best doctor on entire planets – I love it!

So Kaylee made you a birthday cake, eh? That must have pleased you. Your mother and I really like her, son. Self-taught mechanic or no, she sounds thoughtful and sweet, and obviously means a lot to you. Maybe when this is all over and you're able to come home you can bring her? We'd love to meet her.

I have to believe you willcome home one day. I know you'll find a way. We just have to be patient, I guess, even though this separation is very difficult to bear.

I'm sad to hear River is not well enough for you to share my letters with her, but I trust your judgment. Just keep assuring her our love is unwavering. Your mother and I are in a bit better situation than you, but not much. Every time a letter arrives, we each read it over a couple of times (silently), memorize it as best we can, and then quickly tuck it away in the hiding place. We don't dare reread them later, because we don't want to access the hiding place any more than absolutely necessary. What breaks my heart, though, is I can't really discuss them with your mother, except in brief, hushed whispers at night. We have to be so careful We are also careful what we say in the house, in case someone is listening. We did quietly celebrated your birthday, though. We lit a candle, put on that recording of Chopin you're so fond of, opened a bottle of champaign, and drank a silent toast in your honor. Then we sat holding hands and watched the flame.

We love you with all our hearts.

Dad (and Mom)