The Personal Journal of Simon Tam
Recovery
Author: rhian_morwenna
Summary: Simon checks on Mal after he wakes up
Word Count: 1624
Rating: PG-13 (simply because of the slash overtones)
Characters: Serenity crew
Genre: Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Pairing: Simon/Mal
Warning: slash overtones
Spoilers/Timeline: Post Objects in Space, before BDM
Sequel To: An Entry From the Personal Journal of Simon Tam
Series: The Personal Journal of Simon Tam
Disclaimer: Don’t own, never will, just playing.
Author's Note: Mouseover for translation of Chinese and abbreviations. If the mouseovers don't work for you, PLEASE let me know in the comments, and tell me what browser you are using. Chinese translations and abbreviations are at the end.
Many thanks to lvs2read and pesha for beta reading this piece.
Posted to rhian_morwenna, fireflyslash, shiny_vests, and the_pretty_fits.
I managed to doze for a couple of hours on the infirmary’s side bed before Mal woke up. I heard him quietly groaning and moving under the blanket. I immediately stood and checked the monitors. His vitals were better than earlier; I always have been amazed by the ability of Mal’s body to regenerate. I took his wrist in my hand, feeling the pulse. I know it’s redundant, but I always want to confirm what the machines tell me. Also, I...wanted to feel Mal’s skin under my fingers before I woke him up to complete my check. He stirred as I held his wrist.
“Nuuh…Doc…Simon? Tha’ you?” he slurred.
“Yes, Mal, it’s Simon.” I looked at his face, and checked his pupil reaction, ignoring how he flinched at the light. I put it down. “How are you feeling?” I asked.
Mal turned his head to look at me. “Hurts,” he said simply.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Zhou- ma, the man could be infuriating. “Could you be a little more specific, please?”
“Leg, hurts real bad, gettin’ worse,” Mal gritted out, the effects of the pain-killer I gave him earlier wearing off.
“Okay, Mal, I will take care of that,” I said as I went to the medication locker. “Anything else?”
“No, ‘side from bein’ tired.”
I nodded as I drew the medication into a syringe. I expected him to be tired with the amount of blood loss he'd experienced. I injected part of the medication into the injection port nearest his arm in the IV line. I injected the rest into the IV bag itself through the injection port on the bag, ensuring he would get a constant dosage of medication. I watched as the tension eased from his face, his stoicism fading.
“Mal, do you think you can sit up for a minute, if I helped you? I’d like to get you out of your shirt.” I kicked myself mentally, as soon as I said it. “I mean, I need to get this dirty shirt off of you so I can get you cleaned properly.”
“Yeah, if ya help me, I think I can manage,” Mal sighed. He started to shift before I could even get to him.
“Hold on, hold on. Let. Me. Help. You.” I gritted out. I slid my arm behind him, shifted him into a sitting position. Mal was feeling the effects of the drugs in full force, so I held him up with one arm, and slid the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders with the other. He tried to help, but couldn’t do much more than shrug his shoulders. The shirt was finally off, and discarded on the floor. I eased Mal back down onto his back and he immediately closed his eyes.
“I am going to wash you, change the sheet, and check your wound before you fall back to sleep.” I went to the basin and filled a pan with warm water, and picked up a wash cloth and soap. I closed the doors to the infirmary, and hit the switch to turn the windows opaque, giving Mal some privacy while I worked. Bathing is nurse’s work, but I find that it is soothing, and helps me keep a better ongoing assessment of my patient, whomever it is on any given day. I started washing Mal’s face, and his eyes fluttered open.
“Simon, wha’ are ya doin’?” he said softly.
“I told you, I’m washing you.”
“That’s nurse’s work. You ain’t no nurse.”
“It seems I am now. Just relax, Mal, let me wash you. You’re still covered in dust and grit from being planetside.”
“M’kay,” he said softly, closing his eyes again.
So I continued my task of cleaning him up, working my way down from his face. Mal barely stirred as I washed his arms then worked my way down his torso. I struggled to keep my thoughts, my touch, professional as I removed the grime from his body. He looked like the replicas of statues of ancient gods from Earth That Was - finely sculpted perfection. The rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that betrayed his difference from the marble sculptures. I traced his collarbone with my finger before returning to cleaning the rest of him. When I was done, I put the basin on the counter, got a clean sheet out and gently shook his shoulder.
“Mal, I need you to wake up for a minute so you can sit up one more time. Mal? That’s it, wake up for me.”
“Wha’ ya need?” he slurred in response.
“I need to change the sheet you’re lying on, and it will be a lot easier if you can sit up. I’ll help you again, just like last time.”
“M’kay.”
Mal started to try to sit up, and I quickly stepped beside him and slid my arm behind his shoulders, easing him to a sitting position. I slid the old sheet down the bed as far as I could with Mal sitting and quickly slid the fresh one in its place.
“Okay, Mal, I’m going to help you lean back. I’m going to have to lift your hips and legs up a little bit to finish changing the sheet. Let me do all the work this time, understand? I don’t want you to strain your leg.”
“Yeah, no helping.”
I reached under the blanket and both of Mal’s knees, then lifted. I reached under him with my free hand and yanked the old sheet off the bed, then grabbed the clean one and pulled it down. I managed to stay professional throughout, until Mal went and opened his mouth.
“You’re strong, Simon,” he said softly. “I didn’t think you were that strong, since your hands are so soft.”
I jerked my head, and saw that Mal was watching me, probably had been the entire time. Cao, he picked the exact wrong moment to make that particular observation. I tried to keep my voice and hands steady as I finished.
“A doctor’s work is not all delicate. It takes strength and finesse. I wouldn’t be very good if I couldn’t move my patients when I needed to, especially now that I’m likely to be working alone.”
“Mmm, good point. Good with your hands. I ever told ya that before now?” Mal asked.
I kept telling myself that it was simply the drugs talking, and I should let him go back to sleep, stop responding to him. That’s what I should have done.
“No, you’ve never told me that before, Mal.”
“I should’a,” he said as he weakly grabbed my wrist, and pulled me away from the counter where I was about to make notes in his makeshift chart in my datapad. Well, I let him pull me away; he would not have been able to move me in his weakened state. He pulled me by his side, and started to examine my hand, rubbing his thumb over the palm of my hand, examining the lines. I tried to pull away, but he held on to my wrist as tight as he could with his other hand and continued his slow examination of my hand.
“Mal, what are you doing?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer. He only kept looking at my palm, then turned it over. He looked at the top of it, examining my fingernails. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about what he was doing. If I’d had any shred of professionalism left, I would have pulled away. But I didn’t. Living on Serenity as a refugee had taken its toll on my professional decency, so I only closed my eyes and let him continue, chewing on the inside of my lip to keep myself from doing anything.
“So beautiful, so delicate,” Mal whispered.
I felt Mal’s breath across the back of my hand, and jerked, looking back at Mal. He was studying me intently, and his blue eyes locked with mine. Then he kissed the back of my hand, like one would a lady. At that point I jerked away, it was too much.
“Mal, you need to go back to sleep, rest,” I told him, desperately trying to ignore what had happened, moving away from him. The wound check could wait a couple more hours. I dimmed the infirmary lights, hit the switch to turn the windows transparent again. I even opened the door back up, not allowing him any more privacy. I grabbed my datapad from the counter and sat down on the side bench/extra bed again, just out of his reach.
“Night, Simon,” he said softly.
I listened, not responding to him, as his breathing evened out, deepened as he fell back to sleep. I finished making the notes in his chart, then wrote this.
I don’t know why I’m doing this, writing this. I suppose when I wake up, I want some confirmation that this wasn’t all a dream. I’m not likely to forget any of what happened anytime soon, even if I try. If anyone else ever reads this, probably after I’ve been killed by the Alliance, I want them to know what life on the Rim will do to a person. This may be the only record of my existence, and I want to leave my thoughts behind. I don’t know.
I wish I knew what to do about Mal’s behavior while on the pain killers. They are the same ones I gave him after his abdominal GSW, but that time he didn’t get as poetic as he ever does - and about my beauty of all things. Wo de ma, he’s never indicated that he was even a little sly, much less interested in me of all people. I’m not sure I even want to think about what him kissing my hand like a woman's implies. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look him in the face again. What have I gotten myself into this time?
GSW - Gun Shot Wound
Chinese used
Zhou-ma - damn
Cao - fuck
Wo de ma - Mother of god
Author: rhian_morwenna
Summary: Simon checks on Mal after he wakes up
Word Count: 1624
Rating: PG-13 (simply because of the slash overtones)
Characters: Serenity crew
Genre: Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Pairing: Simon/Mal
Warning: slash overtones
Spoilers/Timeline: Post Objects in Space, before BDM
Sequel To: An Entry From the Personal Journal of Simon Tam
Series: The Personal Journal of Simon Tam
Disclaimer: Don’t own, never will, just playing.
Author's Note: Mouseover for translation of Chinese and abbreviations. If the mouseovers don't work for you, PLEASE let me know in the comments, and tell me what browser you are using. Chinese translations and abbreviations are at the end.
Many thanks to lvs2read and pesha for beta reading this piece.
Posted to rhian_morwenna, fireflyslash, shiny_vests, and the_pretty_fits.
I managed to doze for a couple of hours on the infirmary’s side bed before Mal woke up. I heard him quietly groaning and moving under the blanket. I immediately stood and checked the monitors. His vitals were better than earlier; I always have been amazed by the ability of Mal’s body to regenerate. I took his wrist in my hand, feeling the pulse. I know it’s redundant, but I always want to confirm what the machines tell me. Also, I...wanted to feel Mal’s skin under my fingers before I woke him up to complete my check. He stirred as I held his wrist.
“Nuuh…Doc…Simon? Tha’ you?” he slurred.
“Yes, Mal, it’s Simon.” I looked at his face, and checked his pupil reaction, ignoring how he flinched at the light. I put it down. “How are you feeling?” I asked.
Mal turned his head to look at me. “Hurts,” he said simply.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Zhou- ma, the man could be infuriating. “Could you be a little more specific, please?”
“Leg, hurts real bad, gettin’ worse,” Mal gritted out, the effects of the pain-killer I gave him earlier wearing off.
“Okay, Mal, I will take care of that,” I said as I went to the medication locker. “Anything else?”
“No, ‘side from bein’ tired.”
I nodded as I drew the medication into a syringe. I expected him to be tired with the amount of blood loss he'd experienced. I injected part of the medication into the injection port nearest his arm in the IV line. I injected the rest into the IV bag itself through the injection port on the bag, ensuring he would get a constant dosage of medication. I watched as the tension eased from his face, his stoicism fading.
“Mal, do you think you can sit up for a minute, if I helped you? I’d like to get you out of your shirt.” I kicked myself mentally, as soon as I said it. “I mean, I need to get this dirty shirt off of you so I can get you cleaned properly.”
“Yeah, if ya help me, I think I can manage,” Mal sighed. He started to shift before I could even get to him.
“Hold on, hold on. Let. Me. Help. You.” I gritted out. I slid my arm behind him, shifted him into a sitting position. Mal was feeling the effects of the drugs in full force, so I held him up with one arm, and slid the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders with the other. He tried to help, but couldn’t do much more than shrug his shoulders. The shirt was finally off, and discarded on the floor. I eased Mal back down onto his back and he immediately closed his eyes.
“I am going to wash you, change the sheet, and check your wound before you fall back to sleep.” I went to the basin and filled a pan with warm water, and picked up a wash cloth and soap. I closed the doors to the infirmary, and hit the switch to turn the windows opaque, giving Mal some privacy while I worked. Bathing is nurse’s work, but I find that it is soothing, and helps me keep a better ongoing assessment of my patient, whomever it is on any given day. I started washing Mal’s face, and his eyes fluttered open.
“Simon, wha’ are ya doin’?” he said softly.
“I told you, I’m washing you.”
“That’s nurse’s work. You ain’t no nurse.”
“It seems I am now. Just relax, Mal, let me wash you. You’re still covered in dust and grit from being planetside.”
“M’kay,” he said softly, closing his eyes again.
So I continued my task of cleaning him up, working my way down from his face. Mal barely stirred as I washed his arms then worked my way down his torso. I struggled to keep my thoughts, my touch, professional as I removed the grime from his body. He looked like the replicas of statues of ancient gods from Earth That Was - finely sculpted perfection. The rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that betrayed his difference from the marble sculptures. I traced his collarbone with my finger before returning to cleaning the rest of him. When I was done, I put the basin on the counter, got a clean sheet out and gently shook his shoulder.
“Mal, I need you to wake up for a minute so you can sit up one more time. Mal? That’s it, wake up for me.”
“Wha’ ya need?” he slurred in response.
“I need to change the sheet you’re lying on, and it will be a lot easier if you can sit up. I’ll help you again, just like last time.”
“M’kay.”
Mal started to try to sit up, and I quickly stepped beside him and slid my arm behind his shoulders, easing him to a sitting position. I slid the old sheet down the bed as far as I could with Mal sitting and quickly slid the fresh one in its place.
“Okay, Mal, I’m going to help you lean back. I’m going to have to lift your hips and legs up a little bit to finish changing the sheet. Let me do all the work this time, understand? I don’t want you to strain your leg.”
“Yeah, no helping.”
I reached under the blanket and both of Mal’s knees, then lifted. I reached under him with my free hand and yanked the old sheet off the bed, then grabbed the clean one and pulled it down. I managed to stay professional throughout, until Mal went and opened his mouth.
“You’re strong, Simon,” he said softly. “I didn’t think you were that strong, since your hands are so soft.”
I jerked my head, and saw that Mal was watching me, probably had been the entire time. Cao, he picked the exact wrong moment to make that particular observation. I tried to keep my voice and hands steady as I finished.
“A doctor’s work is not all delicate. It takes strength and finesse. I wouldn’t be very good if I couldn’t move my patients when I needed to, especially now that I’m likely to be working alone.”
“Mmm, good point. Good with your hands. I ever told ya that before now?” Mal asked.
I kept telling myself that it was simply the drugs talking, and I should let him go back to sleep, stop responding to him. That’s what I should have done.
“No, you’ve never told me that before, Mal.”
“I should’a,” he said as he weakly grabbed my wrist, and pulled me away from the counter where I was about to make notes in his makeshift chart in my datapad. Well, I let him pull me away; he would not have been able to move me in his weakened state. He pulled me by his side, and started to examine my hand, rubbing his thumb over the palm of my hand, examining the lines. I tried to pull away, but he held on to my wrist as tight as he could with his other hand and continued his slow examination of my hand.
“Mal, what are you doing?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer. He only kept looking at my palm, then turned it over. He looked at the top of it, examining my fingernails. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about what he was doing. If I’d had any shred of professionalism left, I would have pulled away. But I didn’t. Living on Serenity as a refugee had taken its toll on my professional decency, so I only closed my eyes and let him continue, chewing on the inside of my lip to keep myself from doing anything.
“So beautiful, so delicate,” Mal whispered.
I felt Mal’s breath across the back of my hand, and jerked, looking back at Mal. He was studying me intently, and his blue eyes locked with mine. Then he kissed the back of my hand, like one would a lady. At that point I jerked away, it was too much.
“Mal, you need to go back to sleep, rest,” I told him, desperately trying to ignore what had happened, moving away from him. The wound check could wait a couple more hours. I dimmed the infirmary lights, hit the switch to turn the windows transparent again. I even opened the door back up, not allowing him any more privacy. I grabbed my datapad from the counter and sat down on the side bench/extra bed again, just out of his reach.
“Night, Simon,” he said softly.
I listened, not responding to him, as his breathing evened out, deepened as he fell back to sleep. I finished making the notes in his chart, then wrote this.
I don’t know why I’m doing this, writing this. I suppose when I wake up, I want some confirmation that this wasn’t all a dream. I’m not likely to forget any of what happened anytime soon, even if I try. If anyone else ever reads this, probably after I’ve been killed by the Alliance, I want them to know what life on the Rim will do to a person. This may be the only record of my existence, and I want to leave my thoughts behind. I don’t know.
I wish I knew what to do about Mal’s behavior while on the pain killers. They are the same ones I gave him after his abdominal GSW, but that time he didn’t get as poetic as he ever does - and about my beauty of all things. Wo de ma, he’s never indicated that he was even a little sly, much less interested in me of all people. I’m not sure I even want to think about what him kissing my hand like a woman's implies. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look him in the face again. What have I gotten myself into this time?
GSW - Gun Shot Wound
Chinese used
Zhou-ma - damn
Cao - fuck
Wo de ma - Mother of god