Balanced--Chapter 8 (PG-13)
Title: Balanced
Chapter: 8
Pairing: Mal/Simon, eventual Mal/Simon/Jayne
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Post-series, no BDM
Balanced Org Post
This was all his fault. If he hadn't agreed to help Patience, Fry wouldn't have shot him, and Simon wouldn't be so exhausted that he fell off the mule coming up the ramp. And why'd he fall off anyway? Didn't recall Simon leaning against him, sleeping. Remembered the warmth of Jayne's back as he drowsed against it, still muddled from Simon's drugs. Wouldn't he remember Simon's warmth, if it had been there? Of course he would. Simon's body close to his was more powerful than any drug. He'd remember. Besides, the man had a steel core. No way he would have let himself fall asleep until they were safe back on Serenity. So why had Simon fallen?
These thoughts and more swirled through Mal's head as he nibbled at his thumb and watched Book working on Simon. He was unaware of Zoë telling Wash to get them back in the air, though he vaguely felt the pressure on his shoulder as Wash left. He didn't hear Wash's shout to Kaylee to close the bay in prep for take off. Subconsciously, he could hear Jayne's deep voice rumbling in his ear, and the comforting presence of his hand on his back. But all of his attention was focused on the infirmary and what was happening in there.
He watched as Book stopped the flow of blood. He knew head wounds bled more easily than others, but there still seemed to be an awful lot of blood for a minor cut. He winced when Book shaved a small patch of hair away from the wound. He knew why it needed done, but didn't like the idea of there being less of that silky, smooth hair to run his fingers through. He cringed when he saw Book thread the needle to stitch up Simon. He knew there was no other way to treat the wound, but was thankful Simon was unconscious so he wouldn't feel the stitches being set. He breathed a sigh of relief as Book finished and began cleaning up. He knew that Simon would now be all right.
When Book came out of the infirmary, Mal tried to rise to join Simon, but found himself being firmly pushed back down as Book said, "Let him rest, son. He'll be out for a little bit yet. River will sit with him." Mal glanced into the infirmary to see that River had, indeed, gone to sit by Simon before turning his attention back to the shepherd, who was continuing, "We need to talk."
"Talk? What about? He's going to be all right, isn't he?" Mal couldn't keep the worry out of his tone, even though he tried. Again, he was vaguely aware of Jayne near him, but he was too focused on Book to even think about what that meant.
"Yes, yes, he is. But he didn't get that wound from falling off the mule." Book hesitated, aware that what he was about to say was going to cause all kinds of chaos. "He was shot."
"Shot?!" Mal tried to rise again, but hissed in pain as his leg protested. Sinking back down on the couch he asked, "Are you sure? Shot? How? Who? Fry! That bèn zhuō érzi de yī gè…" Suddenly, all of his worry was gone, replaced by a deadly anger. "Shepherd, go get Patience on the cortex. Tell her we need to talk some more." As Book left, Mal turned back to Jayne and said, "Knew we shouldn't've let that hún dàn live. Gonna go back and see what we can do about fixin' that. You ready?"
"Oh, yeah," Jayne replied, "but you ain't. Not with that leg wound."
"I'll manage," Mal ground out. "Don't much care for people tryin' to kill me or members o' my crew. 'Specially when all we were doin' was try'n help out in a bad situation."
Suddenly, there was movement by the cargo bay door and an inarticulate yell as a figure launched itself into the room, running straight at Mal and Jayne. Before they had time to react, River flew out of the infirmary, a look of intense concentration on her face.
Hearing the shouting from behind him, Book turned and ran back down the stairs just in time to see an unknown man draw a weapon. Calling out Jayne's name, he knew he had no hope of reaching the other man in time. Then, before he could blink, he saw River kick the weapon out of the man's hand as Jayne leaped up and punched the man, knocking him unconscious.
Turning to Mal, Jayne asked, "Want I should kill him this time?"
bèn zhuō érzi de yī gè=stupid son of a
hún dàn=bastard
Chapter: 8
Pairing: Mal/Simon, eventual Mal/Simon/Jayne
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Post-series, no BDM
Balanced Org Post
This was all his fault. If he hadn't agreed to help Patience, Fry wouldn't have shot him, and Simon wouldn't be so exhausted that he fell off the mule coming up the ramp. And why'd he fall off anyway? Didn't recall Simon leaning against him, sleeping. Remembered the warmth of Jayne's back as he drowsed against it, still muddled from Simon's drugs. Wouldn't he remember Simon's warmth, if it had been there? Of course he would. Simon's body close to his was more powerful than any drug. He'd remember. Besides, the man had a steel core. No way he would have let himself fall asleep until they were safe back on Serenity. So why had Simon fallen?
These thoughts and more swirled through Mal's head as he nibbled at his thumb and watched Book working on Simon. He was unaware of Zoë telling Wash to get them back in the air, though he vaguely felt the pressure on his shoulder as Wash left. He didn't hear Wash's shout to Kaylee to close the bay in prep for take off. Subconsciously, he could hear Jayne's deep voice rumbling in his ear, and the comforting presence of his hand on his back. But all of his attention was focused on the infirmary and what was happening in there.
He watched as Book stopped the flow of blood. He knew head wounds bled more easily than others, but there still seemed to be an awful lot of blood for a minor cut. He winced when Book shaved a small patch of hair away from the wound. He knew why it needed done, but didn't like the idea of there being less of that silky, smooth hair to run his fingers through. He cringed when he saw Book thread the needle to stitch up Simon. He knew there was no other way to treat the wound, but was thankful Simon was unconscious so he wouldn't feel the stitches being set. He breathed a sigh of relief as Book finished and began cleaning up. He knew that Simon would now be all right.
When Book came out of the infirmary, Mal tried to rise to join Simon, but found himself being firmly pushed back down as Book said, "Let him rest, son. He'll be out for a little bit yet. River will sit with him." Mal glanced into the infirmary to see that River had, indeed, gone to sit by Simon before turning his attention back to the shepherd, who was continuing, "We need to talk."
"Talk? What about? He's going to be all right, isn't he?" Mal couldn't keep the worry out of his tone, even though he tried. Again, he was vaguely aware of Jayne near him, but he was too focused on Book to even think about what that meant.
"Yes, yes, he is. But he didn't get that wound from falling off the mule." Book hesitated, aware that what he was about to say was going to cause all kinds of chaos. "He was shot."
"Shot?!" Mal tried to rise again, but hissed in pain as his leg protested. Sinking back down on the couch he asked, "Are you sure? Shot? How? Who? Fry! That bèn zhuō érzi de yī gè…" Suddenly, all of his worry was gone, replaced by a deadly anger. "Shepherd, go get Patience on the cortex. Tell her we need to talk some more." As Book left, Mal turned back to Jayne and said, "Knew we shouldn't've let that hún dàn live. Gonna go back and see what we can do about fixin' that. You ready?"
"Oh, yeah," Jayne replied, "but you ain't. Not with that leg wound."
"I'll manage," Mal ground out. "Don't much care for people tryin' to kill me or members o' my crew. 'Specially when all we were doin' was try'n help out in a bad situation."
Suddenly, there was movement by the cargo bay door and an inarticulate yell as a figure launched itself into the room, running straight at Mal and Jayne. Before they had time to react, River flew out of the infirmary, a look of intense concentration on her face.
Hearing the shouting from behind him, Book turned and ran back down the stairs just in time to see an unknown man draw a weapon. Calling out Jayne's name, he knew he had no hope of reaching the other man in time. Then, before he could blink, he saw River kick the weapon out of the man's hand as Jayne leaped up and punched the man, knocking him unconscious.
Turning to Mal, Jayne asked, "Want I should kill him this time?"
bèn zhuō érzi de yī gè=stupid son of a
hún dàn=bastard