Chapter I: Makings of a Long Walk.

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*Characters and world belong to Mr. Whedon, mistakes and folly my own.

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“All right. Look. Simon,” Elias started, still eying the gun aimed squarely at his chest, “there’s a man called Acton, important guy in the area, and he’s headed down here in all righteous fury, thinking you’re involved in the abduction of his daughter-in-law.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve only been on world for five days. And been working—”

“Doesn’t matter. He knows she wasn’t kidnapped. He’s just using it as an excuse.” Elias blew out a breath, though Simon was concentrating too much on keeping the gun steady to judge whether it was in annoyance or weariness. And when he gestured to the bed with his head, keeping his arms up, and asking “Can I sit down?” Simon stayed still. “Look, this is gonna be a long story, and I’m a bit nervous with the firearm pointed at me, so if I’ve got a sing you the whole sad saga of this township, I’d rather do it sitting. If you don’t mind.” Simon considered; fear kicked in his stomach again as he recalled at how causally Elias had mentioned River and her medicines. How he had named key components of her smoothers. Last time he held a man at gunpoint—his thoughts stuttered to a stop at that phrase. That he was now living a life where such a thing was possible. That he had held a man at gun point. Done so more than once. Elias was still standing, hands up, his white lab coat open, with another medacad tee-shirt: “Second Season Rotation: Good Hands for Night Shifts” he thought it read. He had been in post-op, his second seasonal...

Simon nodded, lower the gun slightly and moved around the room so Elias could sit, and he could lean against the wall, face-to-face. Elias took in the still present weapon and Simon’s tense face. He kept telling without prompting.

“His daughter-in-law hopped off-world, on your ship, I have good reason to believe. Good wave actually, from one mean-looking beauty. Zo? Zoe? was it?” Simon did n