Mal returned a long while later, bringing with him Kaylee and Zoë. The first officer continued through the lounge up to the bridge, calling out for Wash. Mal had an arm around Kaylee’s blanketed shoulders, holding her with an awkward tenderness. The mechanic’s face was red and blotchy, but underneath she looked pale enough that Jayne figured she had had the same reaction as he. They all crowded onto one couch, silent except for Kaylee’s sniffling and the occasional sound of fabric ripping as Jayne tore the bloody rag in his hands to shreds. The silence dragged on, Jayne feeling his shirt and pants stiffen with dried blood. He absently wondered how much Hunter had lost. He pulled in on himself, listening to the clock as it ticked away minutes, then an hour. No one said a word.

Midway into the second hour came a soft footfall, and Mal stood up suddenly. All three of them looked toward the door. Inara came in, pale under her olive complexion as she nearly stumbled, collapsing into a chair. She lifted her face to Mal’s, dull brown eyes meeting blue. One slender elbow was swathed in bandages.

More footprints sounded, and the doctor entered, looking exhausted. Mal spoke first. “Where’s the Shepherd?”

“I left him with the patient. I didn’t want to leave her alone.” Simon finished drying his hands on a towel, dropping it onto the chair next to Inara.

Kaylee let out a bit of a smile and let her eyes close, looking a bit more peaceful. Mal looked genuinely surprised. “She’s alive? After all that?” He paused. “How close was it?”

Simon ran his fingers through his hair. “Close. She coded on the table, but I was able to bring her around.”

“But she’s alive.” Mal repeated himself, almost in disbelief.

Simon let a little irritation seep through. “Yes. Believe it or not, I’m good at what I do.”

Mal nodded, deliberately ignoring the jab. “I want to see her.”

Simon shrugged. “Be my guest, for all the good it will do you. She’s still unconscious. I’ve induced a temporary coma to help her body overcome the shock and given her a tetanus shot. She’s still quite on the edge, so don’t look too hard. Between the hook I pulled out of her torso, the four bullets in the rest of her body and about two hundred cc’s of HL-92 in her system, a harsh glare might kill her.”

Mal froze midway through the door. “HL what?” he turned back to Simon.

“HL-92,” Simon replied. “Fast acting toxin. She had it all through her system. Much longer, and she wouldn’t have had to worry about the hook. The toxin would’ve killed her.”

“Well, what in hell was she doing with it in her system? Reavers usin’ poison now? And how did you get rid of it?” Mal stepped closer. “Is it dangerous to anyone else?”

Simon shook his head. His eyes met Inara’s, then flicked back to Mal. “This family of toxins responds to common drugs, in extremely high doses or odd combinations. Incidentally, we’re out of quite a few of those drugs now. We had to experiment a little.” He sighed. “I don’t think the Reavers were responsible for it, though. So, I can’t tell you why she had it in her system, but I can tell you how it got there. I traced it to an injection site in the palm of her hand.”

Listening, Jayne felt his insides roil again. “That’s why she wouldn’t hand it over.”

Mal and Simon turned to him together. “Come again?” Mal asked.

“A gun. I told ya, Mal. I asked her for a gun when we found out it was Reavers. She wouldn’t let me have one, and she had to use some kind of hand…” here he waved his own hand, “thing to get hers out. I bet that’s when it happened.” He felt a look of confusion come over his face. “Why on earth would the Alliance poison their own person for tryin’ to protect a gorram mudhole?”

Mal looked back at the infirmary. “That,” he said, “is a very good question.” He turned back to Simon. “Anything else?”

“There were a few complications. Book wants to talk to you. Other than that, just your regular hooked, shot, poisoned and generally beaten senseless female undergoing routine surgery.”

Mal looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Get those a lot, Doc?”

Simon shrugged. “Less often than you’d think.”

“Well then.” The captain looked around, his eyes settling on Jayne. “Y’all best get cleaned up. Get some rest. Ain’t doin’ any good sitting around here.” As if his words broke a sort of spell, the crew began moving again. Simon sat next to Kaylee, who buried her face in his chest. Inara looked at Mal, exhaustion on her features, before standing slowly and heading toward the bridge to tell Zoë and Wash. Mal watched her go, then turned toward the infirmary to get a peek at their visitor.

Simon and Kaylee, still somehow entwined, stood and made their way from the room towards Simon’s bunk. Jayne watched them go, a slight twinge in his chest. He stayed sitting where he was, still twisting the cloth, knowing he should go change his clothes and wash the blood off. He found himself strangely reluctant to do so, feeling somewhere in the back of his mind that once he started washing off the stains, he might not ever stop.