(Untitled)

[aj_crawley]

 
The attack hasn't hit the feeds yet; it won't until tonight. But news travels fast, when you're the kind of person that pays it to, and even faster when it's close to home.

Metaphorically speaking.

The red light is flashing on Simon's commbox - three short, three long, three short.

Someone's hoping the doctor is on call.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

Silence.

Silence.

"--Yes?" His gaze focuses. "Crowley?"

[aj_crawley]

Simon's seen his usual pallor, seen him pale and in pain, wan with relief, seen him grey with tiredness.

This isn't like any of those.

"Where are you?"

[simon_doctor]

It isn't like any of those; and it wakes him up faster than he would have expected.

"I'm on Serenity. What's happened?"

[aj_crawley]

"No - the ship. Where's the - ?"

Behind him, well-dressed people are trotting across the screen too fast for their suits and heels. Many are in their coats; one or two have bags. All of them have armfuls of paper.

"Reavers," he says. "Amesbury, on Lilac."

Someone - an anonymous pair of hands, well-trimmed nails and a wedding band - passes him a scarf, and then a briefcase. He takes them without looking; the hinges of the briefcase clatter against the dekstop.

"They need doctors."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's eyes widen.

"We're not too far from there, I don't think -- too far for a shuttle, we'll have to detour."

A beat. "I'll get the captain."

[aj_crawley]

By the time Simon comes back, Crowley's already in his coat, and the room behind him is empty.

He's speaking anyway, sibilants hissing across the connection - telling a mouthpiece with cold conviction just what will happen to the air traffic controller on the other end if the Bentley flag does not have clearance inside of three minutes.

There's a red smear across the white knuckles of his hand.

Pria-toi. Gan delah.

[simon_doctor]

"Mal says to tell you we'll be there," he says, his gaze flicking down to Crowley's bloodied hand and back up with barely a pause.

[aj_crawley]

Quick-click, like a machine, he sets down the mouthpiece - it doesn't quite go, wobbles off its hook and falls. Crowley doesn't pick it up.

"I'm on my way now," he says.

(It'll take a lot longer from Lavinia to Lilac, and that's in Crowley's face when he opens his mouth, then stops, then closes it again.)

[simon_doctor]

Simon knows.

"We'll see you when you get there, then," he says. "--Once you're en route, can you send me whatever details you have?"

[aj_crawley]

He nods, even as:

"Not many."

Tight.

"Just that the defenses failed."

[simon_doctor]

"The --"

The Bentley-built defenses.

Oh.

"...Anything else that comes in, then," he says. "While you're on the way."

[aj_crawley]

"Mahash Keller," Crowley says.

[simon_doctor]

"...Shenme?"

Simon blinks.

[aj_crawley]

"He'd be about River's age. Small guy, dark."

He lifts a hand, thinks better of it, puts it flat on the desk again.

"Prosthetic up halfway to his left knee."

[simon_doctor]

"He's someone we should look for?"

Simon's already committed the name to memory.

[aj_crawley]

"Yes," Crowley says, "Yes. Wave me if you - find him."

He can't run very fast.