Chapter 3

Simon slammed the drawer shut harder than he meant to, which caused a rare, rather colorful word to slip from his lips.

“What is it?” Inara asked quietly, watching him from where she stood by the bed. Wash was conscious now, if not completely lucid, and she’d been whispering softly to him, giving him something to focus on other than the pain.

The doctor forcefully shut another cupboard before turning around to answer. “This place is just not equipped to deal with this…” he trailed off and sagged against the counter, gesturing with disbelief at Wash, “…this mess.”

“I admit it’s barbaric, but surely this is easier than trauma surgery?”

“Yeah, if I was back in a hospital with the right chemicals around, but I didn’t exactly see this coming and stock up to prepare. I’m going to have to do this the old-fashioned way, which Wash isn’t going to appreciate.”

“I like old-fashioned,” Wash slurred, showing he wasn’t completely out of it even if he kept his eyes scrunched tightly closed. “Dino’s are old…”

Simon ignored the pilot to lock eyes with the companion. “Do we keep any turpentine on this ship?”

Inara blinked. “Probably. You could look in the storage locker in the engine room, but why do you need…”

The doctor’s back was disappearing through the doorway before she could finish her question. With a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders and then turned her attention back to the man on the medical bed. He really did look awful, covered in dirty, ratty feathers that were cemented into the tar that had cooled and hardened to his normally fair skin. The hideous concoction hid any other injuries or bruises from sight, but judging by the pilot’s reluctance to be touched or moved, and his continued fight to remain awake, they were there as well. The woman watched as he screwed up his face and turned his head from side to side as if listening. Suddenly, his lids crawled open revealing pain-glazed, blue eyes.

“Hey, where the doc go?” he asked softly. “Thought he was gonna wave his hands an’ make it better…”

“Sh, Wash,” Inara soothed, running a finger gently through his hair despite the grime in it. “He just stepped out for a moment to get something. He’ll be right back.”

Wash’s head swiveled to look at her and the action caused him to groan deeply.

“Zoë?” he asked thickly.

“No, Wash, it’s Inara. But Zoë will be here soon, I promise.”

The pilot seemed to ponder on that for a second before he closed his eyes again in acceptance.

“Hurts,” he admitted with another moan.

Inara’s heart broke. “You’re going to be just fine,” she soothed. “Simon will be right back.”

“Least he left a pretty nurse,” Wash muttered. “Not sexy, like Zoë, but pretty.”

Inara laughed gently, taking the compliment for what it was even as she wondered once again just who would want to hurt this sweet, kind man. Of all the men on the ship, Wash was the only one never bothered by her chosen profession. He never had to calculate what he was going to say to her, he simply talked. To him, she was always just Inara, a friend.

“You’re quite the charmer, Wash. I can see how you won Zoë.”

“Didn’t win Zoë,” the man corrected. “Survived the courtship and she decided to keep me.”

Inara laughed again, a gentle soothing sound, but her response was interrupted by Simon hurrying back through the door with a large, plastic jug.

“Did you know Kaylee keeps turpentine in the kitchen?” he groused to the room as he poured some of the liquid into a plastic bowl with markings on the side so he could dilute it properly. “In the kitchen! We all could have died of poisoning by now!”

“Told her to stop that…” Wash put in faintly.

A sudden fervent string of Chinese from the doorway caused everyone to turn sharply toward it, an action which elicited a deep moan in Wash’s case. The captain stood there, framed by the arch, his face a picture of shock and anger as he gazed at his pilot. As he remained there, frozen, Zoë pushed past him and stepped quickly to Wash’s side.

“Oh, bao bei,” she said, running her fingers down his blackened face. Wash closed his eyes and leaned into her attentions, finally drawing a little comfort. Zoë seemed unaware of the others in the room watching them, her face stern but her eyes soft and sad and only on her husband. “Sh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

Mal then seemed to recover his wits, and with them his tongue. “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on here?” he growled, stepping inside and up next to the pilot’s bed. “Wash, who’d you tick off, an’ more importantly, are they gonna come back fer more?”

“Nice to see you, too, Captain,” Wash groaned, letting his eyes crawl open once again. “So glad to know you care.”

“Cap’n,” Kaylee cried, rushing into the already crowded room, Jayne and Book right behind her. “Jayne an’ the preacher er back now,” she said unnecessarily. She stopped at the foot of Wash’s bed, her eyes still red and already filling up with new tears. Unnoticed, River slunk in and crawled onto the counter in the corner, hugging her knees and muttered about chicken farms.

“Dang it, Wash,” Jayne said, giving the pilot a confused look. “What kinda costume is that? Ya look like somethin’ my ma’s cat woulda drug home.” Book shot Jayne a disgusted, if somewhat patient look, then bowed his head slightly in silent prayer.

“Wash, I asked ya what the heck – ”

“Oh, Wash, can I help, ya look so – ”

“Hey, little man, can I take a picture – ”

“Son, if there’s anything I can – ”

The cacophony of voices and noise bombarding Wash made the agony in his head spike sharply. He wrinkled his face in pain and attempted to keep the room from spinning around him.

“Enough!”

Sound died instantly as all eyes turned to the Simon.

“This is an infirmary, not a zoo, and you are upsetting my patient! I need to go to work here, and I can’t do it with all of you crowding around! Besides, I doubt very much Wash is going to want an audience for this. Everyone who isn’t me or Inara should leave right now.”

“Heck,” Jayne said in confusion, “he’s just a little dirty. What’s he need a doc for anyway?”

Simon rounded on Jayne in horrified disbelief. “It’s called tar and feathering,” he said forcefully, all his disgust at what had happened to Wash lacing his words.

“So, still don’t see why yer all so upset,” Jayne replied unfazed.

“Jayne, the tar was boiling when they put it on him…”

It took a minute, but a light of understanding finally flickered through the mercenary’s eyes. It was followed by a short burst of concern, but that disappeared before Simon could be sure whether he’d actually seen it or not. “Oh…alright, then. I’m hungry anyway, guess I’ll go fix me some grub,” he muttered, beating a hasty retreat from the room.

“Kaylee,” Mal said firmly, jumping into the conversation, “isn’t there a mule that needs unloading? Stuff Wash managed to get ‘s gonna spoil if it’s not taken care of properly right soon.” He was the captain after all. If someone was giving orders, it should be him. He should have taken charge the moment he stepped back on the ship, but the sight of Wash like that was so unexpected. It shocked him enough to be distracted for a second, but now he firmly reigned in his emotions and reclaimed his authority.

“But, Cap’n…”

“No buts, Kaylee. Now you go on and take care of that unloading like I asked ya to. Ain’t nothing here you need to be seein’.”

Her eyes still watery, Kaylee nodded reluctantly.

“I believe I will go assist Kaylee with the task,” Book said graciously. “My prayers can be heard as well in the cargo hold as they can here.”

Mal shrugged his agreement, ignoring the last part of the preacher’s words as he continued talking to Kaylee. “An’ take River with ya. Girl’ll just be in her brother’s way right now.” Kaylee nodded again and motioned for River to join her.

River slid from her perch and noiselessly followed the mechanic, but she stopped just in the doorway and looked directly at her brother. “His wings are crippled,” she said seriously. “Don’t push too hard.” Then she disappeared out the door.

“That girl just gets more creepifyin’ everyday,” Mal said, shaking his head, then he turned back to his pilot and first mate.

“Zoë?” he said pointedly, gesturing with his head toward the exit.

“Not leaving, sir,” Zoë said softly, never taking her eyes off her husband. She’d tried to take his hand earlier, but the sharp cry of pain he let out made her change her mind. Instead, she continued to gently cup his face with one slim hand.

“Zoë, I really think it would be best if you – ”

“I. Ain’t. Leavin’. Doc.”

Simon stashed his arguments, as did Mal. It didn’t take a genius to know that nothing short of divine intervention was going to get the woman to leave Wash’s side. Mal glanced up at the doctor to ask when he planned on actually doing any doctoring for his pilot and maybe stopping some of the obvious pain the man was in only to find Simon staring at him pointedly.

“What?” he asked, then quickly caught on. “No. I’m stayin’.”

“Mal, you’ll just be in my way. I need room to work.”

“Look, I might let ya pretend to be all in charge and get away with ordering everybody out so’s you can do yer work, but I am still the captain of this boat. I say I’m stayin’, you deal with it, dong ma?”

Simon sighed. “Fine, I’m not wasting any more time arguing, it’s not fair to Wash, but you’ll have to step back out of the way.”

Grudgingly, Mal allowed himself to be ushered into a corner and then stood there, his arms crossed and his eyes dark.

“You all done with the musical chairs thing now?” Wash spoke wearily, his voice thick from pain. “’Cause, I for one would really like to move forward with this shindig and on to the part where the doc here pulls out some of his happy juice…”

“I’m sorry, Wash,” Simon said, stepping up to his patient and looking Wash directly in the eyes, “but I can’t give you anything for the pain just yet. I’m worried you might have a mild concussion, among other things. Until I’m sure of the extent of your injuries, which I won’t know until we get this stuff cleaned off of you so I can examine you properly, I’d rather not risk giving you any medications that could cause more harm than good. If I have to perform any kind of surgery, even minor surgery, I want to be able to administer the right drugs without risk of interactions.”

The desperately hopefully expression on Wash’s face died as he stared at Simon for a moment, before turning his face away and closing his eyes tightly, letting a small Mandarin curse slip out.

“I’m sorry,” Simon repeated as Mal shouldered his way into the thick of things again. “I know this isn’t going to feel very good.”

“Define isn’t gonna feel very good,” Mal demanded, glaring at the young doctor. “I don’t like the idea of you lettin’ a member a my crew suffer just so you can work without worry.”

Simon sighed, but handed Inara a length of soft cloth and asked her to cut it into smaller pieces before he turned to acknowledge the captain’s question.

“For the tar to be in liquid form and remain in that form long enough for it to be applied to the skin, it would have had to be at a very high temperature. I’m betting Wash has at least first degree burns everywhere the tar is touching his skin, and in some places they might be severe enough to be second or third degree. The only way I have to remove the tar and feathers is to scrub it off with turpentine, which even under normal circumstances is a skin irritant. Applying it to skin already abused by burns…”

“Doc,” Zoe suddenly interrupted, turning her face away from her husband to pin the doctor with a gaze. “Captain,” she added, eyeing Mal as well. “This ain’t the time for medical lectures. Really, really like to see some healin’ being done.” Her face was calm, but her eyes flashed dangerously as she looked between the two men. Simon nodded and pulled a metal tray of supplies over while Mal reluctantly backed out of his space again.

“If it gets too bad,” Simon spoke to the captain as he finished setting up, “I’ll try a localized nerve block, but only as a last resort. Some people have funny reactions to them, and often they don’t work at all.” Then the young man slipped into full doctor mode, issuing orders without regard for rank. “Inara, I’ll need you to keep me supplied with clean rags as I go. Make sure they are well soaked. When I finish an area, clean it gently with lukewarm water; I don’t want to leave the turpentine on any longer than needed. Let the skin air dry. Mal, Zoe, since you both insist on staying here, I want you to talk to Wash. Try to distract him, but above all make sure he stays awake. I don’t want him passing out on us if we can help it, not with a concussion. We’ll take this nice and slow and hopefully keep the pain tolerable.”

Wash listened distractedly to all the babbling going on around him, secretly wishing they would just shut up and get on with it. His head was starting to pound with an intensity that made him think Simon was right about that concussion thing, but even through the headache he’d managed to gather from the conversation that this was gonna hurt like heck. Which was saying something because he already hurt more than he could ever remember hurting…well, almost. He was intensely grateful for Zoë’s hand on his cheek, grounding him and giving him something to focus on other than the agony in his own body at the moment.

When Simon finally took a wet cloth and gently started scrubbing at his shoulder, Wash didn’t even bother to try and hold back the strangled cry that wrenched from his lips, or the tears that leaked down his cheeks. It’s not that he was a wimp; he could be brave, even exceptionally so when the stakes were high enough or those he loved were at risk, but he’d never felt the need to play macho games to prove his worth. He was an honest, upfront kind of person, and as such, he wore his emotions and feelings on the surface where everyone could see them. Sure, he had his secrets, his monsters in the dark and memories he tried to forget, but who didn’t? He just didn’t let them dictate who he was. And he sure didn’t think that bravery should be defined by a person’s ability to keep from hollering when they were being rubbed raw by what felt like liquid fire. If nothing else, he felt it was at least his duty to let everyone know how much he truly hated them right then.

“Sh, baby,” Zoe soothed, loathing every minute of watching her husband’s agony. She tried to keep the deadly fury in her eyes from being directed at the doctor, knowing he was only doing what had to be done, but it wasn’t easy. “I’m right here,” she continued, concentrating on her husband and burying the burning desire to hurt someone or something, at least for now. “Focus on me, bao bei.”

“Language, Wash,” Mal put in when Wash let loose a string of very creative curses, mostly directed at Simon. “You’re gonna blister the good doctor’s virgin ears with words like that.”

“You know,” Simon added calmly, even though he never stopped concentrating on clearing the horrible mess from Wash’s skin, “I’d take exception to what you just said if I didn’t feel pretty much the same way about my parents.”

Wash sent Mal and Simon what he hoped came across as a glare, knowing it’s affect would be diminished somewhat by the tears streaming out of his eyes, and then clamped his lips shut and tried to endure in silence, all the while wondering if this is what it felt like to be skinned alive by Reavers.

*****

“It just don’t make sense,” Kaylee said in frustration, pulling the box of protein off the back of the mule and setting it heavily on the deck. “Why would someone do such horrible things, hurt him so bad, but send him back without even touchin’ the goods?”

“I’ve been pondering the same thing myself,” Book answered, carefully stacking small crates of fresh produce off to one side. “Whatever their motive, it’s obvious they were not interested in robbery.”

“But why Wash? He’s never done nothing to hurt nobody!” Her face suddenly changed and she froze reaching for the two engine parts. “You don’t suppose this was all some awful mistake, do ya? Wash got taken fer somebody else?” she cried in horror.

“No mistake,” River stated firmly, shaking her head. Kaylee and Book both looked at her for an explanation, but she just picked up the box of toiletries Wash had bought and headed for the common area with them.

Kaylee sighed. “Guess I’ll go stash these parts and check on the injection plug. Be grounded for a while yet, might as well use the time,” she said sadly.

“Go ahead. I can finish up here,” Book agreed kindly. He watched for a moment until she disappeared up the stairs, then returned to his task.

Wash really had done well with the money Mal had agreed to let him spend. There was enough food here to last them for at least a month, and a lot of it was of the fresh and tasty variety. Sorrow filled him as he thought of the feast the crew had been anticipating for tonight; a chance to slow down, relax, and enjoy good food in the company of family. It was a simple pleasure, but one that was rare enough for the crew of Serenity to make it a special treat. Now it would be just one more casualty of the day.

Solemnly, Book withdrew the last two, small boxes from the mule and opened them. Momentarily surprised, his expression quickly turned into a small, sad smile. Gently he tucked one into his pocket. The other he set carefully on the top of the food crates and lifted the whole stack before carefully making his way to the dining room.

*****

Kaylee was half buried under her beloved engine when she heard Book calling her name.

“Just a sec, Shepherd,” she said thickly around the screwdriver in her mouth. Absently, she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, leaving a trail of grease behind on her skin. “Just gotta finish tweakin’ this casing…”

The truth was, she really didn’t want to come out and talk to him at all. As long as she stayed here, literally buried in her work, she could forget. But as soon as she pulled herself back out to find what the shepherd wanted she’d have to face the real world again, and the fact that someone she considered almost like a surrogate big brother was currently in the infirmary in horrible pain.

Finally, though, she tightened the last bolt and couldn’t put it off any longer. She slid out from under the machine and hit the button to power it up again. Then she wiped her hands on her coveralls and looked up at Book who was waiting patiently in the doorway.

“What can I do fer ya, Shepherd?”

“Oh, nothing,” he assured her gently. “I just finished unloading the mule and while I was doing it, I ran across this. I’m pretty sure they were meant for you.”

With that, he handed her a small wooden box and left. Puzzled, Kaylee opened the lid and then gasped slightly. Inside were five beautiful, red strawberries, each one perfect. Eyes that she’d only managed to dry a short while before instantly flooded with tears again, and she sat heavily on the ground, her mind whirling.

Strawberries were rare, and expensive. Mal hadn’t told Wash to get anything that fancy, she was sure of it. And beside, if he had, there would be enough for everyone in the box. No, these were bought for one person, as a gift: her. And that meant not only did Wash know her well enough to know how much she loved this particular treat, but he’d also been thinking of making her happy and used his own hard-earned money to buy them for her when he saw them.

She didn’t know what to do, or say, or think. It was just too much on top of everything else and she couldn’t handle it. Finally, after placing the box of precious berries carefully on the floor beside her, she simply let her head sink into her hands and sat there in the middle of the engine room and sobbed.