Odd how ironic the ‘Verse can sometimes be, how she can sometimes take the most optimistic of situations and turn them around to go-se on you. The hysterical laugh bubbles to his lips as Simon sinks to the floor, hand cupped over his wounded leg, staunching the bleeding though for what purpose, he isn’t sure. Reality seems to be slowing down around him even as his heart races, as panic and terror cling together and meld into one leaving Simon stilled and watching as it moves by him.

Given the situation Simon can’t help the second laugh that softly moves between his lips as the numbness spreads from his leg up his body, only the coppery scent of blood reminding him of his injury. Injury, it’s a good word, but Simon can’t help feeling it’s inappropriate. An injury, an accident, everything this is not. He’s sagging now, against something, anything, he can’t turn his head to look; body no longer working as it should, feeling as it should. Simon can hear what’s happening even if he can’t see it, can hear it just above the pounding in his ears, his heart twisting and stomach lurching as his mind places the sounds. …disassociate that’s what he needs to do, Simon needs to remain strong and firm in mind, if not in body, needs to assess the situation as a doctor not as a victim.

“If I ever kill you, you'll be awake, you'll be facing me, and you'll be armed.”

Simon remembers those words, words said with such conviction and honesty that it reassured him even when it shouldn’t, when it was merely him and River against the world and they were nothing to anyone. He’d thought that now they were more then just that, more then just leeches or space crud, that they were crew. He remembers how Mal came back to rescue them after such a short time on board serenity, how the Captain cast them as being on his crew and unwilling to let them go.

“If I ever kill you…”

He can still hear those words as clear as if it were yesterday, not seven months later and in the most unfavourable of situations. And his eyes