Rumor told them about a man in Aberdeen who treated his patients without doing too much harm, who didn't forget his instruments in their stomachs, and who didn't ask questions. Mal took note of that information in a corner of his head. That man was, as they said in their kind of business, a man to know. You never knew when you would need a man like that. What Mal didn't know was that he would need a man like that so soon.
They were on Newhall, a little richer than before after their last job, but with no immediate prospect of employment, so they stayed and decided to look for a job there. The best place to find a patron on Newhall was the main town square. Things went wrong as soon as they got there, as they often did lately. Despite themselves, Mal, Jayne, and Zoe found themselves in the middle of a protestation against the local government, which was gradually asphyxiating Newhall's population with its ever-increasing taxes. Scared to death by the protests, the government had found nothing better to do than call the Alliance to the rescue. As always, the Alliance had seen that call as an opportunity to test their newest and biggest military equipment. They didn't care it was against civilizations protesting against corruption and the price of bread.
Surprise.
Mal knew things were going to get bad when he saw the protesters coming left, and then the Alliance military arriving on the right side of the square, but there was nothing he could do. He had left Zoe and Jayne to negotiate some tools that Kaylee wanted to help with her precious engines' maintenance. He could see them talking with a contact when he saw the soldiers getting into position. They didn't see him. They were partially hidden behind an arch of the place's arcades, but Mal wasn't sure it would be enough. He had seen the Alliance deploy that kind of weapon during the war. A brick wall wouldn't resist. Screaming in the vain hope of being heard over the angry protesters, he pushed his way through the crowd.
The warning shot mowed down the first twenty rows of the protesters and the wall behind them. People screamed. Their anger turned into fear. They tried to flee while the Alliance machine recharged. Mal got dragged away by the terrified crowd. Most of them weren't even protesters, just sellers with more or less legal business and innocent bystanders. Of course, the Alliance didn't believe in innocent bystanders. Mal didn't fight against the crowd's movement nor tried to explain to these people their fight was a lost one. He was too busy trying not to get crushed. You couldn't fight the tide.
Finally, he escaped the crowd and took refuge in a side street. The whole thing had awakened some terrible memories. He was shaking. Breathing slowly, he waited for the gunshot and screams to calm down, and tried to ignore how long it took. When it was over, he went back, dreading what he could find.
Two hours earlier, the square had been full of stalls and strollers. Now, it was nothing more than a ruined field with bloody corpses. Mal hated urban combat. With their weapons, the Alliance always made a butchery out of things. These hun dan didn't even need to go so hard. Mal couldn't even find where Zoe and Jayne had been standing. There wasn't much more than half a wall standing here and there. Mal finally saw a hand sticking out from under the rubble, where they may have been. So much blood around it. He thought his heart was going to stop.
"Mal!"
He turned his head towards the other side of the square. Half-hidden behind some rubble, Jayne waved at him. His face was pale. Blood covered his forehead. Worried sick, Mal ran, keeping an eye out for eventual snipers looking for rebels. A bullet may have whizzed past him, but he wasn't even sure. He jumped behind the rubble and faced Zoe's gun. She lowered her weapon and smiled weakly.
"Right on time, Captain," she sighed. "I was afraid I would need to let Jayne put his dirty hands on me. He would have taken advantage of that."
Normally, yes, Mal didn't doubt that, but Mal took one look at the growing bloodstain and Jayne's right arm and frowned. Between that and the blood running down his forehead, better for him not to do any heavy lifting. Zoe was in worse condition. She took a hit on the head, probably from some rubble. Her eyes were glassy. She needed the wall to sit on. Probably had the mother of concussions, too. Her leg was abnormally twisted. It made Mal nauseous just looking at it, or at her shirt and jacket, both covered in blood. At any other time, Mal would have been reluctant to move her without a more thoughtful exam, but the Alliance soldiers were too close for his liking. Sooner or later, they would come to arrest the survivors for sedition. Reading the hesitation in his eyes, Zoe sighed and held out her arms to him, without letting go of her pistol.
"I don't want to fall into Alliance's hand when they decide to find scapegoats for this mess. Come on, sir, the sooner we get on the ship, the sooner we can take care of these two wounds."
"Only two?"
With Jayne's help, he placed her in his arms and hoped the position wouldn't put too much pressure on her wounds. She winced and tried to find a more comfortable position.
"Maybe three. I think I also have a cracked rib. It's a little difficult to breathe."
Her breathing was becoming more and more wheezy. Mal didn't like it. The only slightly comforting thought that came to his mind was the proximity of Serenity. She wouldn't have to wait long to get some help.
Mal took great care to keep close to the wall to not present an easy target to the Alliance. He turned to Jayne. The man was limping.
"You can walk, but can you run?"
"Only if I have no other choice, Mal. I think one of these damn projectiles hit me in the thigh."
"Well, you'll have to. Pretty sure the Alliance'll put a blockade. Zoe's right. If they're not looking for dissidents, they'll look for scapegoats. Maybe both. You'll see. They'll say terrorists cause this damage and they were only there to help the wounded. So if you don't want to be the monster who did this, or to be stuck here for months with no chance of making money 'cause everyone's too scared to do some smuggling, you'll run to the ship and go, right now."
Jayne didn't have to be told twice. They rushed down to the spaceport, but even with Jayne's unusual goodwill, his injury still slowed them down and Zoe fainted halfway to the ship. Mal didn't get there far behind the mercenary.
When onboard, he handed Zoe over to the shepherd and rushed to the intercom.
"Wash, take off right now!"
"My wife," Wash shouted back, "how's my wife?"
"On board, alive, so take off. We need to get the hell out of here."
Wash took too long to close the hatch to Mal's liking, but he started the engine at least. He collapsed onto an abandoned crate to catch his breath, then headed to the infirmary. Before he could get there, he stopped. Something wasn't right. Serenity's flight was stabilizing too quickly. Swearing, Mal ran to the bridge. From the window, he could see Newhall's plains. They were still in the atmosphere.
"What's the hell are you doing, Wash? Told you to fucking get out of here, not to take a view of the countryside. Get out of atmo!"
"Chiu Se. My wife's injured. We're taking her to a doctor."
Mal held back a burst of curses. He should have told Jayne not to tell how serious Zoe's condition was, especially to her husband. Seemed obvious, but Jayne wasn't that bright. Mal wanted to yell some more and accuse Wash of insubordination and idiocy, but he wouldn't get anywhere like that. Sometimes it was hard to remember that not everyone had experienced the war like he and Zoe had. Wash had no idea what could happen on this planet in the next few days, but Mal had seen it too many times. Forcing himself to breathe deeply and unclench his fists, he tried to explain as calmly as possible.
"The Alliance has just committed a massacre, Wash. Civilians died. Now they're going to have two goals, find culprits to take the blame and terrorize these people hard enough to make sure no one ever tells the truth about what happened. Zoe and I are ideal culprits. Ex-brown coat and all that. Do I want to take her to a doc' here in Newhall? Yes, of course. But if we do that, she'll be in an Alliance prison in less than a day and I tell you, they won't treat her nice. If they don't want to use us as their scapegoat, they can still decide to silence us. Permanently."
"You can't know that," Wash spat, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon and without deviating from his course.
"I know that. Zoe knows that. Think it's our first rodeo? No way the gorram Alliance won't be searching hospitals and doctors' offices first, because that's where you found wounded rebels. Zoe needs care, but not here. Anywhere but here."
Wash still looked unsure, but after a few seconds, he punched the console. Serenity jumped into the sky so fast that his toy dinosaurs fell. Wash closed his eyes and cursed silently before turning his attention back to Mal and pleading with his gaze.
"Tell me where to fly, Mal. She can't die."
Mal had no time to think of the next step before now, too busy convincing people to run. He took a moment to dress a list of people nearby who could help. Sadly, this sector wasn't one where they had much friendly contact, and Inara was too far away to open doors for them. It would be a waste of time to call her and wait for her to answer, then call her contacts. Then he remembers something said to him in passing a few weeks earlier. There was a doctor, or something, approaching on Aberdeen, quite gifted and not the betraying kind. Aberdeen wasn't too far from Newhall, and he was pretty sure Zoe could last until then.
"Aberdeen. Head for Aberdeen."
"I'll head off, but then I'll go to Zoe. You take us there," Wash said, starting the maneuver and already half getting up.
"No. I'll go back and help Book. The man needs to concentrate, not to reassure a worried husband. I'm no more a doctor than him, but I patched a few boys on the front, even Zoe once or twice. I learned a few tricks. More than you. Trust us to keep her alive, and push Serenity as hard as you can. You're more help to her here than down there."
At last, Wash surrendered. After a last glance at Mal's shirt, still soaked with his wife's blood, he gritted his teeth and forced them out of the atmosphere.
Reassure on this side, Mal went down to the infirmary and found Kaylee's worried little face on his way. His heart sank. They should have looked for work elsewhere, in more familiar waters. As long as they had enough fuel and money to keep them flying, the rest didn't matter. He should have felt the tension building on Newhall. He should have known that something sinister was going to happen. He should have done a lot of things.
"Is Zoe dying?"
"Zoe's the strong type. She's not going to give up, and we'll not givin' up on her."
Mal wasn't a good liar. Kaylee still nodded, holding back her tears, and he hugged her, trying not to think there was a pretty high-risk Zoe would die before they reached Aberdeen. He kissed her on the forehead and pushed her towards the stairs.
"Go keep Wash company. He needs company more than Zoe at the moment. And make sure the engines hold up. We need Serenity to fly fast and good."
A new determination displayed on her face, Kaylee nodded, wiped her tears, and left, leaving Mal alone. He wanted to look out the window of the infirmary, but if he did, he would never have the strength to go inside. Taking his courage in both hands, he entered, and the smell of blood immediately assailed him. Zoe was lying on the operating table, still unconscious. Seeing her paleness, Mal wondered if she had already lost too much blood, or if it was only his imagination running high. The shepherd was putting pressure on her stomach with a compress completely soaked in blood. He looked relieved when he saw Mal. Couldn't be a good thing.
"Just the man I needed. This woman needs blood and you share the same group."
Mal understood immediately. He rushed to the drawers, searching for the needed supplies for a transfusion. Surprisingly, the infirmary was relatively well stocked, but they hadn't invested a lot of money into resupplying in these last months. He promised himself to make more of an effort to keep the infirmary's stocks properly stocked in the future. In passing, Mal grabbed a stack of compresses and placed them wordlessly next to Book. While the preacher changed his compressed, Mal set up the IV.
"May I ask how much time it will take to get that woman to a doctor? I have some first aid knowledge, but this is far beyond what I'm able to do."
"A few hours, if all goes well. Couldn't stay on Newhall."
The preacher nodded in understanding and frowned.
"I suppose besides changing her dressing, all we can do until we arrive is pray."
Mal sneered.
"With all due respect, shepherd, I think your doctorin' skills'll be of better use to her. Keep her alive for the next few hours."
"What do you mean, a few hours?" Jayne complained from his seat. "I'm going to need more of the good stuff then. It hurts like hell. I think I've got shrapnel in my arm. Zoe's inside must not be pretty."
The other two men grimaced, but there was nothing they could do about that. Mal didn't feel competent enough to look for shrapnel without causing much more damage.
Once the blood transfusion was underway, he took away from Book, allowing the man to dress Zoe's twisted bloody leg and clean her face. She had stopped bleeding from her head. That was a relief, but Mal still didn't like the blackening bump behind her ear. With him taking over, Book walked to Jayne and dressed his wounds. After that, the only thing they could do was wait. Mal could hear a clock ticking in his head.
After a few long and stressful hours, Kaylee stuck her head inside. Her eyes were red, but she managed a small smile.
"Captain, we're arriving at Aberdeen. Wash wants to know where he needs to land."
The captain jumped to his feet. The blood transfusion was long finished, so he went immediately to join Wash, offering Kaylee a little pat on the shoulder as comfort. He didn't have the strength to do more, not when we were worried sick, and left it to the preacher to find words to comfort her. It was his calling, after all.
Before he joined Wash, Mal went to change in his cabin. The pilot didn't need to see more of Zoe's blood. A glance in his mirror told him it was the right call. Even his hands and face were sticky with dried blood, none of it his. Once he rinsed and changed, he turned away to escape the accusatory eyes staring back at him in his mirror.
Wash's eyes lacked the anger and resentment from before, but it was worse because they were full of hope.
"Zoe?"
Unable to bring himself to lie, Mal sat in the co-pilot's seat and groaned. Wash's shoulders slumped.
"Just tell me you know where to go, Captain," he said through clenched teeth.
For once, Mal wouldn't hold his mood against him. He looked at the planet's map and found the village his contacts had given him a few weeks earlier. He passed the coordinates to Wash and a few minutes later, Serenity entered the atmosphere of Aberdeen.
It wasn't a planet they had visited often, mostly because there wasn't any much of anything here. No major cities are visible from the sky, just semi-arid plains and small fields between mountain ranges. Difficult to imagine what a mostly competent doctor would do here. The man must really like isolation or have run from some heavy debts. Whether it was the first case or the latter, Mal didn't care, as long as he could heal Zoe.
Serenity landed on the edge of one of the planet's largest towns, which meant there were three parallel streets and around fifty crumbling houses. Mal didn't wait for the landing procedure to finish before he jumped onto the ground and held out his hands for Kaylee to help her do the same.
"Tell Wash to search for the doctor on the south street," he shouted to the shepherd to be heard over the noise of the engines. "We'll take care of the other two."
He didn't wait for Book's response. The man had promised to do everything he could to keep Zoe alive and wouldn't leave her side. Now it was their turn to do something. He and Kaylee ran toward the northern and the middle street, faster than they even ran. Mal stopped at the first house, knocked, and tried to open it without waiting for an answer. Locked. Cursing, he rushed to the next door. Locked to. The third opened before he could touch the door. A middle-aged lady stared at him suspiciously.
"The doctor?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.
The woman frowned.
"What?"
"The doctor! Where's the doctor? I've got an injured woman on my hand. Don't you have a doctor?"
If the man had left or wasn't what the rumor said, Zoe was lost and they would have to remove the shrapnel from Jayne's wound by themselves. The man would probably lose his arm. If Wash didn't kill Mal on the spot, and he would let him do it, Mal would find the gou cao de who had given him bad intel and make him pay. He was close to hitting the woman who was looking him up and down, taking her time, as if life wasn't at stake. Finally, she pointed to the end of the street.
"He lives there, the last house on the right."
"Is he home right now?"
She shrugged her shoulders and closed the door with little concern.
"Ri shao gou shi bing," Mal growled before he ran.
The house didn't look like much, even compared to the others. Its owner obviously didn't feel the need to maintain it. The door closed poorly and the owner hadn't bothered to repair it. All it takes is a push for Mal to open it and enter a single room, barely furnished and smelling like mold. The sole occupant was lying on the bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't react to Mal's entrance.
"Are you the doctor?"
The man turned his head towards Mal. He looked surprised to see him.
He was young, quite pretty, dressed in rumpled but well-tailored clothes showing that he had had money, until recently. He sighed and looked away.
"Not anymore."
"Then it's your lucky day because you're going to be doctorin' again."
The doctor, or ex-doctor obviously, stood up and sat on his bed. He glared at Mal.
"Haven't you heard? I am no longer a doctor. You can take your cirrhosis, your venereal disease, or whatever it is, and go show it to someone who cares."
"My friend won't last 'til then. You're her last hope."
"So what? We all die, sooner or later," the man said with no emotion before he pushed Mal aside to go wash his face in a metal basin placed on a broken table.
Mal would have drawn his gun and shot the man on the spot if he hadn't seen the quick flash of emotion in his eyes just before he turned away. The man was less indifferent than he wanted to appear. That didn't mean he would be easy to convince. Mal grabbed the doctor's arm.
"Listen, doc. I don't know if you want money or something else, but I'll pay your price. You want to leave this planet? I'll take you to wherever you want. If it's medication or anything else, I'll take care of it. But you're coming with me."
The man ripped his arm away from Mal and turned his back on him again.
"Have you not heard me? I can do nothing for you!"
The pain in his voice was all too familiar to Mal. He knew now what he had seen a moment earlier in the doctor's eyes. It was the look he saw in his mirror some mornings when he woke up. The man hated himself. Perhaps he had good reason to do so and to exile himself here. Didn't mean Mal was going to let him go like that.
"Don't you take an oath to help people in danger? You're coming with me or I'm forcing you to. What do you choose?"
The doctor snorted in disdain and walked away from Mal, clearly intending to go back to bed. Mal didn't hesitate. He grabbed his pistol and delivered a blow to the young man's temple. He collapsed silently into his arm. All Mal had to do now was to find how to drag him aboard Serenity.
Before he could find a solution, the door opened again to let Kaylee and Wash through. Both were out of breath. The people they'd spoken to hadn't been more friendly than the woman Mal had talked to. Both froze when they saw the man on the ground and Mal with his gun in his hand.
"The doc didn't quite fancy coming with us, but I think my last argument touched him," he said, putting his gun away.
"Perfect."
Wash glared at the doctor and grabbed him by his shoulders roughly. Mal grabbed his legs with the same sort of care and Kaylee held the door for them. After casting an unfriendly glance at the unconscious man, she ran back to Serenity to warn them of the good news.
On their way, several curtains moved, people watching them pass, but no one protested against what looked like their doctor's kidnapping. The man must not have made many friends here. Not that Mal cared. He was quite furious with him himself. The man was not very heavy, but his lack of cooperation was wasting Zoe's time.
Halfway to the ship, the man woke up and struggled. Mal exchanged a glance with Wash. Seeing his agreement, he threw him to the ground and pointed his gun at his head.
"Listen to me carefully, doc, because I won't repeat myself. You can climb on my ship and treat my people like the doctor you're supposed to be and you'll leave in the same state you entered it. You can refuse, but then I'll force you to and you'll come out with a bullet in the head. What do you choose?"
The doctor glared at him but didn't protest or try to run when they grabbed his arms to drag him toward Serenity. He tried to stop just before boarding, and Mal roughly pushed him into the infirmary.
Once inside, the man's behavior changed completely. It was uncanny. His defeated posture outside of the room, his dead eyes betraying reluctance, had almost made Mal hate that man. Something grated on him with the doc, just looking at him. But in the infirmary, the man straightened up. His gaze became more lively and his voice more assured.
"When did that happen?"
"A few hours ago," the preacher said, getting up from his chair. "She lost a lot of blood and she has a concussion. Her breathing worries me the most."
The doctor stepped forward to take Zoe's right hand, looking at her fingertips. Then he lifted her hair to examine the back of her ears and lifted one of her eyelids to look at the pupil.
"Perforated lung and head trauma," he mumbled to himself more than to his audience. "What happened?"
"We don't have time for questions we won't answer. Can you help?"
The doctor cast a look at Jayne, who was still sitting in the same place, pale and bloody, then at the pastor. He pursed his lips and then went to open the drawers. It didn't look like he was happy with what they got, but he gathered some instruments and washed his hands. When he was done, he raised his head, closed his eyes for a second, the pain clearly visible on his face, and then turned back to them.
"I need an assistant. Preacher, can you do it?"
"I'm at your service."
The doctor filled a syringe and handed it to him before pointing at Jayne.
"Dope this one. I don't want to move him and reopen his wounds, but we can't be distracted while I operate."
Jayne tried to protest, but Book stuck the needle in his arm with no hesitation or maybe even a little pleasure. The mercenary collapsed along the wall. The doctor checked his pulse and checked that he wasn't bleeding to death, then turned to the others.
"How can we help now that you're willing to do your job?" Mal asked.
"By leaving this room."
"You can't get me out of here!" Wash protested. "I'm her husband!"
"I can, and I will. The last thing she needs is for you to pass out or throw up during surgery. Out."
The doc was right, even if Mal wasn't quite sure about having the man out of his sight. He still distrusted him, but the doctor looked like he knew his job. He hadn't panicked seeing Zoe's state, even if Mal had implied that his life was at stake if Zoe died there. It took guts and trust in his own abilities. Reluctantly, Mal grabbed Wash's arm and escorted out of the infirmary.
He forced him to sit down on the couches in the nearby break area and ordered Kaylee to stop him from moving. With her lips pursed in a desperate effort not to cry again, the mechanic sat down beside him to hug him. That was all it took for Wash to collapse and cry on her shoulder. Kaylee's sobs joined his. Mal didn't cry. Didn't feel he had the right to, not when he had dragged Zoe and Jayne into the center of a shitstorm. He should have seen things were going to get bad. He didn't.
With the infirmary's door closed, he sat near the window to look inside. The doctor saw him when he finished preparing his instruments and made a motion to cover the window. Book stopped him, muttering something that made the doctor narrow his eyes. Finally, he shrugged and left the window as it was. Good. Mal wasn't trustful enough to let him operate without his supervision. At least the uncertainty was gone from his eyes. The doc looked professional now. They could only hope he was good at his job. Now that he could stop to think, Mal wasn't happy to have Zoe operated on by a doctor he knew nothing about. The man may have ended up on Aberdeen for his incompetence or because he arrived in the operating room in a drunken state. At least his hands weren't shaking. Mal didn't remember any bottle in his house. Maybe drunkenness wasn't the reason he ended up there.
The doctor breathed and began the operation.
Mal would never forget how he felt standing here for hours, barking at Wash twice an hour to stop him from forcing the door open when he wanted to do the same and ask if Zoe would make it. Most of the time the doctor and the preacher cut off his sight of Zoe, but Mal had seen enough post-battle operations to guess how serious it was. The images were far too vivid in his head. Quietly, to not arose Wash and Kaylee's attention, Mal knocked on the window to get his attention and silently mouthed a question. The preacher shook his head. Zoe wasn't out of the danger zone. The doctor took long sips of water before splashing his face and taking in large gulps of air. From where he stood, Mal could see his face, but he couldn't read his expression. Finally, the doctor put on new gloves and went to see Jayne. He chatted for a while with the preacher, their eyes darting from Zoe to Jayne, probably discussing whether to move Zoe to operate on Jayne. They eventually decided it was still too risky and operated on Jayne on the floor. Once again, Mal observed the doctor as he put each fragment he extracted from Jayne's arm or leg into a container. He counted them, horrified. That new Alliance's weapon was nightmare fuel.
When they finished with Jayne, Mal called Kaylee to him.
"They'll be hungry when they're done. Go make something warm for them to eat and drink. Some alcohol too. They might need it."
Kaylee nodded and slipped to the kitchen. It was stupid, but Mal wanted her out of the way when they heard the news, in case it was bad. She would find out right after them, but he couldn't help but feel better at the idea that she would live another minute or two without being hurt by the news. Mal expected Wash to react, but the pilot stayed where he sat, tense, eyes fixated on the door. He looked ready to lunge at the door, but he wouldn't move before the doctor got out. A bit comforted he wouldn't cause trouble, Mal turned back his attention toward the infirmary. The preacher was finishing wiping bloodstains on the floor. The doctor was checking on Zoe. His shoulders finally relaxed. He took off his bloodstained jacket and gloves and threw them in the trash. Using the window as a mirror, he looked at his own reflection and removed a trace of blood from his forehead before meeting Mal's eyes for the first time. His eyes revealed nothing, but he signaled to Mal that they could go inside.
Mal didn't have to be told twice. He rushed toward the door, Wash on his heels. Wash looked like he wanted to hug his wife but stopped, seeing her so pale, and turned to the doctor.
"Will she be alright?"
"I hope so. She lost a lot of blood, but the transfusion you did helped. I think another one will be necessary, but we'll put her on observation for an hour or two before. My first concern was averting the pneumothorax, and I did it just in time. No vital organs were affected, and she's breathing normally again."
"Then why doesn't she wake up?"
"I put her under for the operation, but she should wake up naturally within the hour. We'll assess the severity of that head blow then. I did what I could on that front. The rest... The rest is up to her."
Wash looked like he was going to cry again, this time in relief. He turned away from the doctor and gently caressed Zoe's face. The preacher joined him to give him the support that Mal couldn't offer with how guilty he felt.
Quietly, the doctor left the infirmary. Mal was still observing him, so he could see the man nearly fainting when he passed the door. The doc needed to hold on the wall to stay up. Mal grabbed his arm to lead him to the couch.
"Wait here," he said while climbing the stairs.
"Just let me catch my breath and I'll be off your feet. Unless you prefer to shoot me in the head like you proposed."
There was such weariness in his voice that Mal stopped and frowned. It looked like the man would be grateful for that bullet. He didn't answer and went up to the kitchen, angry with Kaylee. The girl should have come down already. He couldn't understand what was keeping her up there when it was urgent to feed everyone. They've all been awake for too long without food.
Kaylee wasn't heating water or cooking a meal. Sitting at the foot of the counter, her head between her legs, she was crying her heart out. As soon as he saw her, Mal forgot his anger and rushed towards her. Looking up, her eyes full of tears, she threw herself into his arms.
"Zoe's dead, isn't she?"
Guilt came back. Mal had wanted to preserve Kaylee by making her go, but of course, she jumped at the worst possible conclusion. His fault. Instead of letting her learn the news with them, he forced her to suffer alone here.
"She's alive, I swear. She may survive. Go see her. I'll take care of everything here."
Kaylee wiped away her tears and ran downstair, her step lighter than before. Mal quickly filled a pitcher with water, grabbed a bottle of alcohol, and a large loaf of bread, and went back downstairs. He'll prepare something more sustaining after. They were all still too anxious to feel the hunger.
When he came down, the doctor was standing near the infirmary door. He was looking at Wash and Kaylee laughing softly, hearing Jayne's groaning, outraged he was waking up on the floor. He looked like a man who longed for the family and love he was seeing inside because he had lost it. Mal suddenly felt sorry for him. He didn't know who the doctor had lost, when, and how, but the man had nothing left and was only clinging to life out of habit. Mal had been like that, Zoe too. After Serenity Valley. Before Serenity.
Feeling Mal's gaze on him, the doc turned away from the scene. His face hardened, no longer revealing anything, but now Mal knew he wasn't indifferent to suffering. He only pretended he wasn't to sink into despair. How many times had Mal himself been tempted to grab his gun and end it? He wouldn't ask the doctor if he hid his supplies sometimes, as Mal did with his gun. Instead, he handed his tray to the doctor.
"Serve yourself. Suppose you need it."
"Thank you."
The man had a Core accent and a posh way of talking. His story must be something to hear. The doctor held the tray a moment as if he didn't know what to do with it then put it on the table and poured himself a glass of water. Mal joined him and tore two pieces of bread from the loaf, which he shared between them.
"Zoe was lucky to have you."
"I am not the one to thank. The preacher is. He kept her alive when many wouldn't have to faintest idea what to do."
"I know. Man's useful when he does not rely solely on his faith."
"Cynical?"
"Not you?"
Mal grabbed the alcohol and took a few long sips straight from the bottle.
"Shouldn't you join them?", the doctor asked, pointing to the infirmary.
"My fault they're here."
"Is that your opinion, or theirs?"
"Mine. Zo would kill me if she heard me. Gorram Alliance."
The doctor gave him an inquisitive look but didn't ask questions.
"She seems to be a strong woman. I sincerely hope she survives this trial, but I am worried about her long unconsciousness. Still, I think her prognosis is good. You'll need to make sure both of them stay out of trouble for a while."
"No promises I'm not sure I can keep, doc. Bad luck followed us for some time."
"Simon," the man replied, holding out his hand.
"Mal. You staying 'til she wakes up?"
Simon smiled weakly.
"As you said, I took the oath. If I break it, I have nothing left. I will stay until she wakes up and I will write food recommendations and activities that could help with their convalescence. I cannot give you a prescription, but I will make you a list of things you should acquire to speed up their recovery and refurnish your infirmary. Maybe this way you won't need me this time."
That was more than Mal had hoped for, especially with how they had treated the doctor to get him to help. He had more and more questions about Simon.
"Thanks, doc. I know we got off the wrong foot, you and I, but my proposition still stands. If you need equipment, transportation, or anything, contact us. That's our payment."
"I need nothing," Simon said with pride.
For a fancy boy from the Core, he had fallen very low. Must be hard to have to rely on small-time smuggles like them. If he survived on the Rim long enough, he might get used to it. He wouldn't have a choice anyway, so Mal let it go. He finished his bread and got up.
"You can use the sofa and sleep, doc. I'll wake you if Zoe or Jayne need your expertise."
The doctor nodded and fell asleep almost immediately. Mal noticed the dark circles under his eyes. The man had slept little lately. Too many worries, regrets, and free time to think, no doubt. Mal was like that, too. Serenity Valley wasn't done with him. It would never leave him alone.
The sound of Kaylee's laugh brought him back to the present time. Mal closed his eyes and took a deep breath to find the courage to face his mistakes, and he entered the infirmary.
Zoe's tired, exasperated smile greeted him.