Disclaimer : Oh, half of them are mine. Not the shiny ones, they're Joss' and FOX's and lots of other people richer than me.

Comments: Sorry this one took so long, Real Life can go jump, that's all I'm sayin'. It's been a fun ride, it really has. This fic turned out much longer than I thought it ever would. There are thank yous and some extras at the end.

Feedback: Ya know, it'd be real nice, for old times' sake wily_one24@yahoo.com.au

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"We all here?" Wash kissed the top of Zoe's head as he let Book take her weight from him and turned to scan the crowd of people swarming over the cargo bay. "Are we all on board?"

"Yes." Jayne answered, the last person up the ramp, the limp body in his arms hanging loosely. "Get us off this damned rock."

Inara pounded the button that closed the doors and sealed the airlocks. Wash ran up to the bridge with a last look to his wife. Simon, already folding up the sleeves of his shirt, left the stretcher where it lay and turned to gesture Jayne to the infirmary.

"Bring her in, Jayne." He noted with a small amount of relief that the large man had had the presence of mind to pick her up face down without flipping her over. "On her stomach."

Together, they lay her down on the gurney and Simon reached for the sedatives that would hold her under. His eyes picked up the gentle way Jayne's oversized hands smoothed the edges of her skin, tried to comfort the soft arms that didn't respond. Simon placed a mask over her face to help her breathe and attached the requisite monitoring devices before looking at the red, gaping holes across her back.

"Jayne?" He looked up. "I need you and Book to get Mal up on the side gurney and dope him, too. Zoe's going to have to wait."

"She gonna be okay, doc?"

Simon looked up to the windows that surrounded the infirmary and saw them all watching. He hadn't felt like this since his first days as an intern, the supervision, the monitoring. The horrified, intense stares of those who cared about the dying