They lied about going home again (narrative)
Simon Tam didn't want to end the call that way. He wanted to explain, or to reassure her. He wanted to tell her that it would all work out, that she'd be happy. He wanted to be the one to make her happy and to keep her safe. He wanted many things, but what he wanted at the moment really wasn't that important. Someone needed his help. He opened the door, half expecting it to walk out into a busy street. He felt like he deserved being punished for what he did to her, but he did it for her own good. Cruel to be kind, right? He'd fix everything; he could do it.
For the rest of the day he was busy. Stitching up this, closing up that, setting, breaking, checking, testing, running, working, saving. From the moment he stepped out of his office, he didn't stop, as if someone or something was letting him just be. Then again, he worked ER, and some days there was no rest for the wicked, or the great. He didn't even stop to eat; he just took the cup of noodle soup and kept walking. It was cold and disgusting, but it would hold him until he could get a moment to do more than breathe and wash up.
He'd been going steady for possibly fourteen hours when he caught sight of something that didn't fit. It was a mender, just sitting there with the rest of his instruments. Before he could pick it up, a nurse took the tray away. He was finished with the procedure, and while he wanted to see everything cleaned up properly, he also wanted to know why something from his time was just sitting so very indiscriminately on a tray with everything else. It didn't even belong there in his time; it was field first aid, not operation room equipment. He glanced down as the other nurses bandaged the patient up, and then he left the room.
Tossing bloody work "clothes" into the waste bag as he passed, he could barely keep up with the nurse. Why was she taking the tray this far? He should have thought about it, but he wanted that mender. It could help. He wanted to understand. The nurse went through a set of doors, and Simon ran after her, pushing through the doors with some force.
"Well, look who decided to show up."
"So, glad you could finally join us, doctor. Sorry, we don't have any tea for you, but we'd really appreciate it if you could get our pilot mended up."
Simon stared at the strange tableau before him. It was the "sickbay" on Serenity. Wash was on the bed, bleeding from his shoulder. Zoe did not look happy, keeping pressure on the wound Simon couldn't see. Jayne sat on the counter smiling. Mal was glaring. River stepped up behind her brother before Kaylee gave him a soft push.
"Oh, it's okay. I don't mind bleeding to death, save for how messy it gets. And that I could wind up, you know, dead." Wash's smile was weak.
"Jayne, get off the counter." The emergency jumped to the front of the thought train, and Simon was in action. He grabbed things before he settled down to fix Wash's shoulder.
"Guess that's the last time I try to fight a really big man with a knife to protect my woman's honor." Simon glanced up at Wash, giving the pilot a slight smile. Whatever had happened probably had nothing to do with Zoe, or at least her honor, but it didn't matter.