Jayne watched as Stokes filled the hypo, the gold liquid almost hesitant in transferring from the ampoule. Then his line of sight was blocked as the doctor leaned over his patient. Jayne moved to try and get a better view, the senses that had kept him alive this long kicking him in the hindbrain now. Then he saw, on the edge of his vision, Mal’s eyes widen, and he could feel the action about to happen. The Captain lunged forward, dragging Stokes away from the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stokes shouted, struggling to get free.

“Zoe! The hypo! Check it!” Mal was barely holding on, his strength failing. “Jayne, take him.”

Without even a thought to ask why, Jayne did as he was ordered, wrapping his strong grip around the man, holding Stokes’ arms by his sides. “Gorram it, keep still. Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“What’s going on?” Kaylee asked, looking from one to the other in scared confusion.

“Yeah, I wanna know that too,” Jayne echoed.

Zoe leaned down, looking at the hypo still in Simon’s arm. She pulled it carefully out, a single drop of blood appearing at the injection site. “It’s empty,” she said, her face expressionless but her voice dripping acid.

Mal tried to catch his breath. “Did he –“

“No. It’s not been depressed.”

Stokes struggled harder, but in his throes his hand opened and something fell to the floor with a clatter. Mal darted forward and picked it up, the liquid inside it glowing. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed. He held it up in front of Stokes. “This it? The antiviral? Then what were you trying to inject Simon with?”

“Let me go!”

“Air.” The voice was thin, dry, but it was Simon’s. They all turned to look. The young doctor was struggling to sit up. “Air,” he said again. “Embolism.” He coughed. “Enough to kill me.”

Mal’s face darkened and he glared at Stokes. “Not the first time, I'm guessing.”

“You mean he pushed Simon?” Kaylee looked mad now, her small hands clenching into fists.

“That he did.”

She was suddenly in Stokes’ face