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: "Heart of Gold"

Dear Dad,

Thank you for the words of understanding in your last letter. There's no one else I can unburden myself to about some things, so it means a lot just to have a sympathetic ear. And to have the constant reassurance of your love and pride, despite the fact I've become a fugitive and criminal. It's distressing to know you and Mom put yourselves at risk over these letters, but please keep writing if you can. They are a tremendous source of strength and comfort – to me, and, even though she doesn't know it, through me to River as well.

You know, I'd honestly forgotten about saving that man in the hospital on Ariel who was going into cardiac arrest. I did it almost on instinct – helping him because I knew I could. I became a doctor to prevent needless suffering, after all.

I'll try not to obsess about some of the violent and unsavory things I've had to do to protect River since leaving Osiris. There's no doubt there will be more to come. We do live among criminals, after all. Just like distrust of the mercenary, self-doubt is a luxury I can't afford if I am to survive out here and help her.

Our journey around the Rim continues to be full of joys and sorrows. I delivered a baby yesterday. A fine, healthy little boy. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, bringing new life into the world. I've assisted with childbirth before but never been the primary. River was there, too. She was fascinated with the whole experience. Mother and child came through just fine, no complications. Which was good, because the birth occurred in the middle of a gun battle violent showdown between a group trying to protect the baby and the father, "R" – a cruel man – hell bent on stealing it away. We were there because this group had hired our crew to help with protection. Ultimately, we won the day and "R" was killed (by the baby's mother, actually), but there were casualties, including the group's leader. She was a strong woman, very determined. Her funeral was a sad affair, although her comrades did their best to make it beautiful. I doubt the group can manage now that she's gone, but they're going to try.

You know, I strongly suspect the captain would have come to the group's defense anyway, even without payment. He hates the Alliance with a passion, as I've told you before, but I now think his objection extends to all people in power who abuse their authority – like this man "R", a "pillar of the community" who viewed women as lower than dirt and this child as his property. To our captain, the Powers That Be are Goliath and he is David, seemingly outmatched but sure he can bring them down in the end. And by a miraculous combination of skill and luck, he and the rest of his crew have so far managed to succeed in most of their misadventures. I think he recognized in this group's leader a fellow David, so he fought alongside her. Maybe he sees a little David in me and River, too, and that's the reason he lets us stay. I wonder.

Delivering that baby has got me thinking about my medical career. That and a few other experiences I've had on the Rim. Life is so elemental out here, medical care either rudimentary or nonexistent. There's a crying need for qualified doctors, a need I could fill, and perhaps I could be happy doing it. I'm not sure. I don't really fit in out here, but I don't see myself integrating well back into Core society, either, not after all River and I have been through. Not feeling as I do about the Alliance and everything it represents. And if things work out with Kaylee, well, I don't mean to sound snobbish, but I don't think she'd fit in with the Capital City social set, either. How does "Doc Tam, man of the frontier" sound? But I will go wherever River is. If we can make it back to Osiris for her to be treated there, then I'll see if they will reinstate me at the hospital.

River's progress is slow going. I haven't yet found a medication regimen that her system does not quickly break down, so it's hard to stabilize her. Ups and downs – that's the best I can report, which I know is discouraging, but rest assured I will keep at it. There has to be an effective treatment, I just need to find it.

I'm told we won't be touching down anywhere for quite a while once we depart this planet, so I have to hurry and hand this letter off to the "postman." Well, "postwoman," in this case.

All my love,

Simon

Dear Simon,

Congratulations on delivering a baby! That's quite an achievement for someone who never trained as an obstetrician. I'm sure the boy's mother was tremendously relieved to have a qualified doctor attend her. I remember watching my children's births – each a beautiful experience, but also kind of alarming. Labor seemed to take forever, and your mother was in such pain. Your birth, being the first, was more nerve wracking than that of your sister. We'd been told what to expect, of course, and taken the classes, but until you actually go through the experience, you don't fully comprehend. And we knew Dr. Sreenivasan for months before you were born; we'd developed a close relationship and trusted her implicitly. I can't imagine how terrified I'd have been if a complete stranger showed up at the eleventh hour and said, "Hello. You've never laid eyes on me before, but you're about to put your baby's very life in my hands."

You wrote, "Our journey around the Rim continues to be full of joys and sorrows." Those are certainly the emotions they evoke in your mother and me when we read your letters. I imagine my children on a small raft out at sea, exposed to the elements. Sometimes the sea is calm and placid, the sun shining gloriously in a clear blue sky. Other times (more often) it is heaving, with a dark and angry storm raging overhead. I know you will weather the storm and come safe to dry land one day. We just have to be patient.

So your captain fancies himself a dragon slayer, eh? That's a dangerous occupation. Lucky for us he's decided to hate the same dragons that we do. Still, I wish you'd found refuge with a crew less prone to violent "misadventures," as you called them. But beggars can't be choosers, and, like you, I am very grateful to the captain. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to tell him that. Maybe even recompense him for some of his trouble on your behalf, if you think he wouldn't be offended.

You asked what I thought about you staying on the Rim to practice medicine when this is all over. Don't be angry with me for wishing you'd return to your position at the hospital instead. You are such a gifted physician, and your future there was so promising. As a parent, I'd be sad to see you not fulfill your potential and gain the recognition you deserve. Plus, you'd be near us, instead of millions of light years away. Having endured all these months of forced separation and worry, I selfishly want to keep both my children close. If you really can't stand Core life, how about a compromise – some planet that's not too far away but still 'rough around the edges', like Persephone?

As to Kaylee, you're in the best position to judge whether she'd fit in on Osiris. But don't sell her short just because she's less educated. A person can learn facts and figures, but you can't teach kindness. Plus, given how much people in our circle spend on their vehicles, a good mechanic is worth her weight in gold. She might be quite happy setting up shop here. And if your friends don't accept her, well, then it's time to make new friends.

I have a bit of my own news to share. One happy coincidence came out of your mother's efforts towards our social rehabilitation. We were at a dinner party hosted by the Prekovskis on Friday – Daiyu Prekovski is an old school friend of your mother's – and one of the other guests happened to be a neurologist. What are the odds! I told her – trying to sound as casual as possible – that I'd heard of someone who claimed he could read minds, some supposed psychic with a popular wave program. I know I shouldn't discuss River's condition, even in such a roundabout way, but I couldn't help myself. It seemed an opportunity too fortuitous to pass up. I asked did she think such a thing was possible? She said no, she was unaware of any documented cases of genuine extrasensory perception or telepathy. She said supposed "psychics" were often people who were highly intuitive and quick to pick up on verbal and nonverbal cues, giving the appearance they were reading a person's mind. I asked if it was possible to alter the brain to enhance such a skill. She again said no, she'd never heard of any surgery that would increase perception or intuition. Any enhancement would come through behavioral conditioning, similar to some of the training companions undertake. She added, however, that the brain is an immensely complex organ and there is still much medical science does not know about its functioning, so she couldn't rule out such a procedure as a theoretical possibility. The conversation didn't leave me reassured, exactly, and I know none of this is helpful to you. But I felt better afterwards, as though I'd been able to talk, even in a limited way, to someone besides your mother and you about River's condition. Like the constant weight on my chest was, just a little bit, lighter.

Stay safe and write again when you can.

Love,

Dad