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BADKARMA00

Archangel – Chapter Eleven
Monday, January 21, 2008

The crew reflects while Simon tries to save Jayne


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2092    RATING: 10    SERIES: FIREFLY

Archangel – Chapter Eleven Author own no rights to Firefly, and is making no money for his efforts. ---------------------------- Inara sprang forward as Jayne fell to the cargo bay floor. Mal yelled for Simon, and then directed three of the men sitting on the bay floor to help him get Jayne into the infirmary. Inara followed the struggling men into the ship’s hospital, carefully carrying the big man’s swords. Simon rushed into the room, muttering softly in Chinese. “Help me get this armor off him,” he ordered tersely. “I need to see where he’s injured.” Willing hands assisted in removing the armor, leaving Jayne clad in only a loincloth, decorated with ornate symbols that no one recognized. Simon spotted the problem almost at once. “A sword or spear pierced him under his left arm,” the doctor noted. “Looks like it punctured his lung as well. I’ve got to get in there, and stop the blood flow before his lung fills up or he bleeds out.” His hands flew across the shelves, gathering the things he needed. Jayne gasped suddenly for air, pink foam flecking about his lips. “I’ve got to get him intubated,” Simon stressed, running a tube into Jayne’s mouth and down his throat. Jayne’s breathing eased a little, and Simon attached the tube to a small ventilator. The machine would help him breathe while Simon worked to repair the damage. “What can I do, Simon?” Inara asked. She owed her life to Jayne. “Help me get some of the blood away so I can see the wound,” Simon ordered. “And try to keep it wiped away, as best you can. I’ve got to be able to see.” Kaylee came running into the room, her face pale. When she saw Jayne lying on the table, she almost screamed, her hands flying to her face. Mal took her by the shoulders and tried to guide her out of the room. “Is he gonna be okay?” she asked around her sobs. “Simon’s got it under control, mei-mei,” Mal told her, sounding more confident than he felt. “C’mon, let’s you and me go out and wait in the lounge while he sees to Jayne.” “Don’t you let him die, Simon!” Kaylee shouted over Mal’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare let him die!” Simon looked up briefly, seeing the pain in Kaylee’s eyes, and knew that he had lost her, forever. Then he was back to work. Trying to save the man who had just saved all of them. “I wondered when that would happen,” Inara said quietly. “You knew?” Simon asked, but didn’t look up. “I suspected,” Inara told him honestly. “Nothing more.” “It’s a surprise to me,” Simon admitted. “What could she see in him?” Inara was suddenly angry at that. “Were you watching just now, Simon?” she said with professional calm. “It may have escaped your notice that Jayne just saved her life. All of our lives, actually. But he wouldn’t have done it, in all likelihood, if not for her.” “I know what he did,” Simon flushed slightly at the rebuke, but never stopped working. “I just. . .it’s Jayne, for God’s sake!” “Do you have any idea what he is?” Inara asked coldly. Simon glanced up at her briefly, then looked back to the wound. “He’s an Archangel,” Inara almost whispered the word, and Simon could hear the reverence in her voice. “A man sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” “Like he did at Ariel?” Simon shot back. “By turning my sister over to the Alliance?” “You should be thankful that he saw what had been done to your sister,” Inara said scathingly. “I would imagine the first thought that entered his mind after Kaylee was shot was to kill you outright. I’m willing to bet that only the knowledge of what had been done to your sister convinced him to take you back from them.” “So that makes it right? What he did?” Simon huffed. “As right as refusing to treat Kaylee for a gunshot wound she would never have received had it not been for you,” Inara shot back. Simon froze, his face beet red. “I’d forgotten that,” he almost whispered. “You can be assured that he has not,” Inara told him. “As for what Kaylee sees in him? Perhaps someone who is willing to place her before himself, Simon. Someone who doesn’t spout social rules at her, when she doesn’t live up to his standards. Someone,” her voice grew ice cold, “who wouldn’t berate her when she told him she wasn’t able to bear children.” “I. . .I didn’t mean it that way,” Simon stammered. “It was just a shock, and I. . .well, I didn’t handle it well. I tried to apologize, you know,” he said defensively. “Sometimes wounds are too deep for an apology, Simon.” Inara said softly. “Sometimes, words cut too deep. She expected better of you. And you failed her.” “I did, didn’t I,” Simon sighed, still working on Jayne. “I never meant to. I know that doesn’t undo it, but it’s the truth.”

“I know,” Inara replied sadly. “Don’t fail her again, Simon. Make sure that Jayne lives.” Simon nodded absently, having never looked up. “I’m trying.” ---------------------- Mal led Kaylee into the lounge, but the girl would go no farther. “I’m stayin’ right here!” she set herself firmly onto the sofa, eyes daring him to try and move her. Mal didn’t take the dare. “Are you and Jayne. . .” he started, but stopped, hearing how harsh his voice sounded. He tried again, softer. “Mei mei, you and Jayne involved, somehow?” he asked her, keeping his voice soft. “We are,” she said firmly, struggling to hold her tears at bay. “And don’t you dare spout no rules at me, Malcolm Reynolds, or try tellin’ me what a bad man he is. If you do, so help me I’ll. . .” Mal raised his hands slowly, in a peaceful gesture. “I ain’t, Kaylee,” he assured her. “I ain’t gonna talk about rules and such. And after what I seen today,” he looked back into the infirmary, “I ain’t so sure that Jayne’s all that bad, anyway.” “He loves me,” she whispered softly. “More than Simon ever could, or would.” “I ‘spect that’s true,” Mal nodded in agreement. “Simon ain’t one to know what to do with a woman like you, li’l Kaylee,” he grinned faintly. “You got too much fire.” “He’s a boob,” River said, walking down the stairs. “Not his fault, really,” she frowned. “Raised that way. All he knows.” She walked over to where Kaylee sat, and settled in beside her, placing an arm around Kaylee’s shoulders. “Zoe is on the bridge,” she told Mal as he started to ask about the ship. “We are in the black, and well away from the reavers.” Mal nodded. “I best go see to the folks in the bay, I reckon,” Mal stood. “You two feel like helpin’, I’d be obliged.” “I ain’t movin’ from this spot,” Kaylee said firmly. River laid a hand on her arm. “Perhaps we should go and gather Jayne’s things,” she said softly. “I do not believe he will be leaving us after all. Not today, at any rate.” Kaylee looked at her, and nodded mutely. River stood, and pulled Kaylee to her feet. “Let us go, then, and retrieve his belongings,” she told her friend. “When he wakes, all his toys will be back where they belong.” Kaylee laughed slightly, and a smile lit her face for a second. “Okay,” she murmured, and started for the stairs. “Thanks, ‘tross,” Mal murmured as the girl passed him by. River nodded, smiling, and continued on her way. Mal looked into the infirmary once more, at Simon working feverishly on Jayne. Ai ya but did he owe that man. . .everything. His ship, his crew, his. . .Inara, all would have been lost, save for one man. A man who had every right to despise Malcolm Reynolds. And no reason, whatsoever, to fight a horde o’ reavers with nothin’ but two swords, and a barrel full o’ guts. He looked to the departing women, and a thought flickered across his tired mind. Well, maybe one reason. Just one. ------------------------ “How many people we got on board, Zoe?” Mal asked. River was back on the bridge, and Kaylee had returned to the lounge. Mal and Zoe had seen to the people in the bay. Most were injured in some way or another, but they’d have to wait. “Forty-seven,” Zoe replied at once, her voice flat. “Plus us.” “Can we feed’em all?” Mal asked. “Barely,” Zoe nodded. “Be a might thin, ‘fore we can reach Celeste, but we can do it.” Celeste was the nearest planet capable of taking the refugees. Newswaves were flashing every hour, now, about reaver attacks on Beaumond. The news was bad. Beaumond had been a bloodbath. Totals of wounded and missing were still being tallied, and were already into five digits. The Alliance was steadfastly telling anyone who’d listen that insurgents were to blame, but no one was listening. Not anymore. “‘Spect things’ll be heatin’ up, now,” Mal said quietly. Zoe nodded. “Wont’ be no way to sweep this away,” she agreed. “Too many know the truth, now.” “I’m gonna go check on Jayne,” Mal told her, and started to leave. “Mal?” He turned back. Zoe rarely called him that. “He gonna make it?” she asked, and Mal shrugged helplessly. “Don’t know, Zoe,” he admitted. “Looked. . .it looked bad.” “That it did,” she nodded. Mal was stunned to see tears forming. “You okay, Zoe?” “I. . .I don’t know, sir,” she admitted. “I. . .I got a lotta thinkin’ to do.” “I’d say that’s true o’ all of us, after today.” -------------------- “I think I’ve got it,” Simon straightened, groaning as his back muscles protested. “The bleeding has stopped, and the damage to his lung is repaired. It’s a miracle he was able to keep fighting,” he added, impressed despite himself. “No,” Inara said, her voice sad. “Not a miracle, Simon. A curse. One as old as Earth-that-was.” She looked at the man laying before her, a legend come to life before her very eyes, and tears formed in her eyes. “What’s this?” Simon said drawing her attention. She looked down at Jayne’s thigh, and gasped. “Simon, is that a. . .” “Bite,” Simon nodded, looking at the wound. “It’s open, but. . .” He bent to examine the wound, eye’s narrowing. “This wound is. . .it looks old, Inara,” he told her, confusion evident in his voice. “There’s no way that can. . .where is his armor?” Simon asked, moving to the pile of discarded equipment. He examined the leg casings, finding no damage beyond dents and dings. “This stuff is amazing,” he murmured. “If that spear hadn’t found a hinge, it would never have penetrated it.” He looked up. “The bite didn’t happen today,” he said, his voice definite. “No way it could have, through that,” he nodded to the armor laying in the corner. “But it. . .it shows signs of growth. As if the bite has been there for a long time. Since childhood, even. The tissue around it has stretched it, but. . .” He shook his head. “There is no way that shouldn’t have healed long ago, if that’s true. Or gotten infected. Something’s wrong about this.” “About what?” Mal asked, having entered unnoticed. “He gonna make it, Doc?” Mal asked before either could answer his question. “He should be fine,” Simon nodded absently. “The damage wasn’t really that bad, but he had fought on after receiving it. That made it worse, and he lost a good deal of blood. And his lung was filling up,” he added. “That’s all repaired, however. It’s this bite wound that has me puzzled.” “Bite?” Mal’s face pinched in alarm. “He’s been bitten?” “Not today, Mal,” Inara assured him. “But he has an old wound that doesn’t seem to have healed. Simon can’t figure why.” “Well,” Mal said, relieved, “figure on it another time, if you can, Doc. We got near on fifty refugees out in the bay, and some need more’n me and Zoe can tend to.” “Of course,” Simon nodded, gathering his bag from the counter. “Inara, can you watch him, please? I’ll be as quick as I can.” “Of course, Simon,” Inara nodded. Mal watched him go, then turned to Inara. “You okay?” he asked quietly. They hadn’t had a chance to speak since all this had happened. Inara nodded mutely, and fell into his embrace. “Oh, Mal, what if he hadn’t been here?” she almost wailed, crying now that the danger was past. “I don’t. . .I don’t like to think on it,” Mal admitted. “‘Tross had said just yesterday, I think it was yesterday,” he frowned. “Anyway, she’d said that without him, ‘least two o’ us would die.” “Looks as if she was correct,” Inara’s voice was muffled as she spoke into his chest. “Looks that way,” Mal nodded. “What was it you was sayin’ ‘bout him? In the bay, I mean?” Inara raised her head, looking at Mal. “He’s an Archangel,” she said softly. “What is that, exactly,” Mal asked, casting a wary eye at Jayne’s still form. “It’s. . .I don’t know how to explain it, exactly, but I’ll tell you what I’ve heard, what I’ve read. It isn’t much,” she cautioned. “And until today, I never really believed a word of it, to be honest. It was just a fascinating bit of historical. . .fantasy, I guess is the work I’m looking for.” “The things I’ve learned over the years are all taken from rumor, and more than a little conjecture. There is an order, a religious order, if some of the facts are real, that seeks out men who are. . .more than they appear, I guess is how they would say it.” “Some say that men who are Archangels are cursed,” she said sadly. “That they are born angry. That they come into creation furious with the world, and all that lives in it. Through no fault of their own,” she added, looking at Mal. “They cannot help it.” “Some say it’s a genetic problem. That there is a gene, or genotype, I don’t know the difference, really, that predisposes them to anger. No, not anger,” she shook her head. “Rage. That’s often how it’s referred to, The Rage. It can be debilitating, especially as they grow older.” “This order, and I could never learn it’s name, takes these men when they are children. They train them for years to manage that rage, that burning, some call it, and turn it into a gift. A gift used to fight evil where they find it.” “You’re looking at a weapon, Mal,” she told him quietly, looking at Jayne laying on the bed. “A weapon forged by Holy Men, if the legends are true.” “Their training can last for years, and it’s said to be savagely difficult. Their, makeup, I guess, gives them. . .well, it makes them stronger, gives them greater endurance than the average person. They can absorb more punishment because they don’t really feel it, through the rage that burns within. Like adrenaline, I suppose, only much worse.” “It isn’t easy to provoke the wrath of an Archangel, once he’s trained properly, the legends say. For good reason,” she added, nodding at Jayne. “You saw today what he’s capable of, in that state.” “That’s so,” Mal said softly, paling at the memory of the times he’d pushed the big man to a near breaking point. How many times had Jayne stalked away, ‘sulking’ as Mal put it? And how many of those ‘sulks’ had kept Malcolm Reynolds from having his head handed to him? “And you think Jayne is one o’ these ‘Archangels’?” he asked, frowning. “I’m sure of it,” she breathed the reply, looking at Jayne again with stars in her eyes. “I’m sure of it.” “This needs some time to think on,” Mal scratched his head. “I ain’t. . .I don’t know that we need to be havin’ him on the ship, happen he can snap like that.” Inara’s face grew stony. She looked at Mal, and he was shocked to see the contempt swirling in her eyes. “After what he did today, all you can think to say is you don’t know if you need to have him on your ship?” she asked, her voice little more than a hiss. “‘Nara, if he’s a bad as you say, he might go all, mad, on us, and then what’d we do?” “He hasn’t done it so far,” she replied scathingly. “And I doubt you’ll have that worry anyway,” she added coldly. “As I recall, he was preparing to leave when this happened. I can’t imagine anything that might have convinced him to stay.” “Kaylee could have,” Mal murmured, and Inara’s face went livid. “Did you. . .?” “Course not!” Mal shot back, angry himself now. “I didn’t even know, till she told me, out there,” he jabbed a hand toward the lounge. “Said they was . . . involved.” “Well, he can’t leave until he’s well,” Inara said firmly, looking at Mal as if daring him to dispute her. “‘Nara, I wasn’t just gonna heave him off,” Mal told her. “Give me a little credit, here.” “You’ll have to earn it,” she said flatly. “And so far, you haven’t.” She moved to where Jayne’s armor and swords were laying. “What are you doing?” he asked, still smarting from her retort. “Unlike some,” she looked at him pointedly. “I am grateful for what he’s done. If he manages to recover, I want him to find his weapons and his armor clean and cared for.” “If?” Mal looked puzzled. “Mal, you do realize that what he’s done has cost him something, don’t you?” she asked. “He was furious, Mal, out of control. Likely for the first time in many years. It really is a form of madness. He risked more than just his life today. He risked his sanity. He may well not be able to regain that control, at least not without time.” She looked at Jayne, and her eyes suddenly teared. “And he has to want to live,” she added, her voice choked with emotion. “And I’m not sure that he does.” “What?” Mal was stunned. “How can you know that?” “Did you see his face, Mal?” she asked him. “When he was on his knees, about to fall, did you look at him? He was smiling, Mal,” he voice broke with emotion. “Smiling. Happy. Relieved. I’m not sure he wasn’t glad that he might be dying.” “Ain’t no man glad to be dyin’,” Mal huffed. “How do you know?” she shot back at once. “You have no idea what he’s lived with, Mal. None. How do you know what would make him happy? When have you ever even tried to find out?” With that the elegant woman turned to her self-appointed task, ignoring Mal as if he had left the room. After a minute, he did, easing out the door.

COMMENTS

Tuesday, January 22, 2008 8:02 AM

BROWNCOAT135


wow... good legend

lol, it's awesome badkarma00, keep up the excellent work :D


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