Simon was healing. By the time he awoke, Kaylee was well enough to move about, but still drowsy and disoriented from the poison and its side-effect-ridden antidote. A white light glared in Simon's eyes. His first thought upon returning to this world was make it go away . He tried to pull the string himself and missed. Twice. Kaylee’s hand caught his and curled his fingers around the wayward chain, together dimming the room. She grinned.

“How many dopies does it take to turn off a light?”

“Mhmrm?” he replied.

“You’ll be wantin’ some water. I’m rather outta it myself, but lessee what we can do…”

She missed the plastic cup with the first stream, but instead of giving up she shifted the pitcher and dribbled water all over the bedside tray until she found the right angle. Water was very heavy and mischievous for one recently recovering from a serious load of narcotics.

She lifted the cup to his lips and, with the same method she’d applied to the pitcher, found his mouth by pouring water over his chin and half a cheek first. He gagged but managed to get it down his prickly throat.

“I’m in a hospital,” he whispered hoarsely.

“It’s all okay, your record’s clean now,” she explained, scooting onto the side of the bed and chasing a few stray strands of hair from his face. “River’s safe too, and just bustin’ to see you. Zoe’s patched and Cap’n – Mal’s next door.” Her voice shook, a different quake than the drug-induced waver. “They stuck a lot of tubes in him.”

“Let me see him, I could help – ai!” He had tried to move, bending where muscles and membranes were still knitting together. It was as if an iron ball had swung into his belly and bruised every part of him above the waist and below the collar bone.

“The nurses said you weren’t to move about ‘til they checked on you – I was to notify ‘em when you came to.” Kaylee didn’t move. Her hand was around his; they folded together naturally.

Suddenly all the frustration of being a helpless patient crashed down on him.

He was waking up in th