The thunderous roar of the crowd seemed to fade into silence, leaving only the pounding beat of amplified music hammering at Mal's dizzy and muddled senses. Every nerve and every muscle in his body seemed to be shaking from pain and exhaustion, but he felt his limbs go heavy, cold. He gasped for breath, confused. The pill Inara had given him had relaxed him, dulled his senses, dulled the pain, but this was new. Was he just hallucinating now? Was this the drug, or had his mind just given up trying to cope, and invented its own reality?

He tried to focus his stinging eyes, realizing he couldn't see the man who'd spent the last eternity slamming a whip against his now blood-soaked body, realizing that the onslaught seemed to have stopped. Somehow, I doubt this is a good thing, he thought bitterly.

Even Jayne, who'd spent the entire evening screaming curses in his general direction, seemed to have fallen silent. What the hell is happening?

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Simon heard the sounds of the crowd fade away slowly until there were no more. He stared at the small transmitter in his hand. It didn't seem real. None of this seemed real. It felt like playacting, like the games he and River had played as a child.

Simon the adult, Simon the doctor didn't go sneaking around darkened platforms planting bombs, didn't have a gun loaded with real bullets in a holster strapped to his leg like he was some sort of cowboy, didn't slam people's heads into metal staircases. Wasn't about to press a button that would trigger an explosion powerful enough to blow a hole in the largest building he'd ever seen.

"Blowing the roof in ten seconds, cover your ears," he announced calmly.

Simon pinned his head between his arms to protect his hearing from the sound of the blast and closed his eyes. This is not a game. This is real, and don't you even think about forgetting it, he reminded himself as he depressed the button.

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