It had been three days since Kaylee had collapsed in the field. Simon had been in to town a half dozen times, talking with the local doctor, healers, mystics, anyone who might have some kind of medical knowledge. Every day he came back with another option, crazier than the last, and every day his heart sank when the latest technique didn’t work.

Somehow Mal had managed to hold off Marcus, telling the impatient smuggler that the ship was having some sort of problem and they would need to postpone the job. Simon hadn’t asked for many details and the captain hadn’t volunteered them. Truth be told, it was the farthest thing from his mind. All he could focus on was Kaylee.

He was alone with her now, in the infirmary. He had dimmed the lights for nighttime; their bluish tint always gave the room a cold air. And Kaylee didn’t belong somewhere cold. She belonged in warmth, bathed in sunshine and full of happiness. That was who Kaylee was. That was the woman Simon loved.

He had never told her that, of course. He could never bring himself to say the words. But he thought she knew anyway. She always seemed to know what he was thinking. Not in the eerily accurate way that his sister did, but in a deeper, more emotional place. It was a connection they seemed to share, the ability to listen to each other without saying a word.

And what frustrated Simon more than anything was that he couldn’t hear her now. Whatever had Kaylee under refused to give her up. He had continued to alternate stimulants and doses hoping that he might perchance stumble on the correct combination. But there was nothing – no sign that any thing he did made a world of difference. And they were running out of options. As much as Simon hated to admit it, there was nothing he could do for her anymore. Maybe if he had more equipment, better instruments … maybe if he was just a better doctor he could find some answers, but he was out of ideas.

Reaching for her hand, Simon took it in his gently and held it firm. “Kaylee, come back to m