The Universe's Mixer

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 ).

Simon sighed as he looked at his phone. He hadn't talked to her for a couple days, and he'd been avoiding her. It wasn't the right thing to do, but he didn't know what else to do, honestly. Finally he sucked it up and made the call.

Jennifer picked up her cell phone. She was out and about, half searching for Jake and half trying to get her errands done. She looked at her phone and hit the talk button. She wasn't sure how this was going to go. She'd told Charlie she didn't know if she was going to end up being upset with Simon over Jake, and she still didn't know. She hadn't seen her roommate since.

"Hello?"

“Jen? I..” Simon knew he should say something, but how do you say “sorry for scaring away your telepathic slightly touchy cat”? “It’s Simon.”

He was busy pacing his office. Watson was out at the moment. In fact, he hadn’t seen Watson in a while. ( That was a mystery for another time. )

[WAY backdated - takes place the morning after this log. Also continued in comments.]

It was much easier to be noble and tolerant of a hole in the leg when there was someone else to be noble and tolerant to. But once Dinah was back home, and Harry was left to his own devices in his apartment, even the Tylenol 3s he kept locked away in his lab weren’t going to help. Moreso since he was having trouble climbing down the ladder to get to the painkillers in question.

After asking bribing Bob into getting the bottle for him, Harry finally pulled the City Yellow Pages from under his coffee table and flipped to the listings for ‘Doctors’. There were plenty. Closing his eyes, Harry held out a finger and poked the book. When he opened his eyes, ( he read the name he had landed on. )

River eyed the piece of paper cautiously.

The instructions were too complex, she thought. This would be an easy thing to do.

Eyebrow arched, standing in the women's lounge outside the bathroom, bent over a counter, River made the last fold. The thing was complete.

It was an origami version of Serenity. River smiled at it.

The instructions urged her to think of what she truly wanted. Looking at the ship, thinking of how things had been with her brother, River wished.

Silently, in Mandarin.

She smiled.

_______________

Later that day, April Fool's Day, River went to the hospital, hoping to grab Hannibal for lunch. She was cheerful, and she couldn't really explain why. She just felt... better. She grinned as she opened the doorway to the hallway that held Hannibal's office, hitting it with both arms out so it swung.

Jake was an early riser. It came with being a semi-nocturnal creature. He spent many hours of the day sleeping, and many hours of the night roaming around. Sometimes he went out. People called it prowling, but Jake just thought of it as going for a walk. The City was different under a cover of darkness. There were different smells, different sounds, different people. It was like an entirely new world. And, being an explorer from another galaxy, Jake was naturally curious about such things.

That and it was in his nature to walk across fences and howl (like alley cats were opt to)whilst others tried to catch up on a good night's sleep.
( Waking up first meant getting the bathroom first. )

Hannibal had come back to his office to find very little amiss. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but in a city such as this one, it could have been anything, really. In fact, he could have come back to no office at all. Fortunately, it was still there. His name was still on the door, and his things were all in place.

Except for the monkey.

Jack the Monkey, the center of the zombie crisis, Patient Zero, in fact, was gone. His cage was gone as well, all of the food that Hannibal had kept in his small refrigerator for the monkey was also gone. Aside from his notebook, which detailed everything that had gone on, all the experiments from beginning to end, everything was absent. Were it not for his notes, it would be almost as if the monkey had never existed in the first place.

But he couldn't quite be upset about the loss. He hadn't actually thought about the monkey in a good long time. If it had been present, he wasn't sure what he would have done about that. He'd learned long ago that he couldn't cure it of it's strange problem, which defeated the desire to do anything else to it. He'd run every test on it imaginable and some he'd invented at the spur of the moment. So the monkey's absence was not felt but for a very brief moment.

The hospital was, as he expected, still pretty much the same. The clockwork of people getting harmed or sick and being fixed here was still in effect. He was still named the head of diagnostics. Still listed as a possible surgeon. There were other things that Hannibal wanted to devote his time to, but he supposed that he could do those on his own time. Learning more about psychiatry, the soft science, was on top of that list. He'd done minor things since he'd been in the City, but he wanted more. Then there was the forensic anthropology. A science he'd begun to learn from Dr Brennan. He didn't suppose that she was around still, so he'd have to find another avenue for that. Or wait for her to come back, perhaps.

There was nothing pressing on his desk at all, so he sat in his supple leather chair and turned it to face the window. The world outside was bright today. Filled with sun. The temperature was mild, he knew from his walk over. It was, indeed a perfect day. For Hannibal, reliving the events of his ... entertainments with Baba Yaga, the day was made all that much better. He was deep in thought when the knock on his door came. He motioned with his right hand for the knocker to enter, but didn't turn.

Jennifer: Jen listened to her messages as soon as she got back to the apartment. Jake wasn't there, and she found that she was really disappointed. She’d been hoping her feline roommate would be there, so she could know he was okay for one. So she could see him and give him a hug for another. Maybe some tuna. Maybe some belly rubs. But she was incredibly glad to hear Simon’s voice come through on her voicemail. She hit the quickdial button on her phone that would connect to his number.

As it rang, she chewed on her lip. It was nice that he was out there. Contacting her. And the same Simon as he’d been when she’d gone into Arkham.

Simon: The doctor wasn’t sure what to do when he hadn’t heard back from her. Of course, she was busy. Plus, it was possible that it wasn’t even her. He didn’t know how to handle how he felt. There was Kaylee, but then there was Jennifer. He really should have gotten out more when he was younger. There had been a few girls, but...

( His phone was ringing. The ID said her name.... )

"Nice picture? What picture?" Ted was talking to himself.

There were a lot of messages on his phone. A lot. Certainly more than usual. And all of them having to do with things that were not finance. It seemed to Ted that there were a lot of people looking for a date from him, and he didn't know why. Then the message from Charlie telling him that the picture of him was good and they should have dinner.

At least he knew that Charlie was still here. Out there. Somewhere.

"Do I owe somebody dinner?" He asked his phone, confused, as he pushed the button to go to the next message. He listened for a moment and then blinked. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal to do in the greater United States area..."

Where had all of these requests come from?

Ted put his phone down and looked at it, more than slightly confused. The City provided many things, he was coming to understand, but a dating service as well? That seemed to be more than a little bit too personal to him. Something that perhaps a man should decide for himself if he wanted to partake in.

He picked his coffee up from the table. He'd been spending more time in coffee shops lately, glad to be away from Arkham. Needing to be out of the house. But also trying to find Charlie. He figured if he stayed in one place for a prolonged period, eventually Charlie would wander by.

So far, the theory hadn't worked.

The phone jingled again, Ted picked it up and hit the button for voice mail. He listened for a moment before blushing and putting it back down. "Now that's just dirty."

It had taken Watson a little while, but he'd finally found an opportunity to get out to the hospital. The trip was part of a day long round of errands and he'd saved it for last - mostly because Jennifer had suggested that there might be some sort of job set up for him, and if that was the case, a quick drop-in might turn into several hours of waiting about. He'd dressed for the occasion, but not dressed-up; he'd worn nicer slacks and a button-up instead of one of his pullovers. His wallet, complete with identification, was tucked into his pocket.

Once he'd reached the place, Watson went in the front doors and found his way to the desk.

"May I help you?" The woman on duty asked.

"Yes, please - I'm Dr. John Watson," John replied. "I'm new? To the City. This might sound a little mad, but it was suggested that I might have a job waiting? I thought it would be worth the time to check."

"Have a seat," the woman said. She was wearing a little plastic nametag that introduced her as 'Janice.' "I'll check with HR to see if any paperwork has come through."

"Right." John took a step backwards. "Thanks."

The indicated seats were arranged in a 'U' shape around a coffee table. They were plastic and wholly uncomfortable, as was the way of a hospital. John chose one and random and leaned forward to grab a magazine.

A quick workout, a shower, a bite for breakfast, work, home, dinner, sleep, a routine. Simon had had a routine in the...asylum, and it was comforting. Of course, he could tell himself that the medication and the City had made it work, but he knew that he had liked knowing exactly what would happen from each moment to the next. It wasn't until he woke up in his own bed that he realized what had happened. Not only had he been kept under observation, doing some very ridiculous things, but he had allowed himself to forget bits of himself. He supposed he could say he learned something about himself; he wasn't good at looking at the bright side, especially when that bright side was just dark and disappointing.

Simon decided not to go into work. They had done without him for however long he'd been detained by the City; they could do without him again. He needed to see River, to apologize to her, to make sure she had been okay. He also needed to see Jennifer, Jake, George, Kaylee, Inara, Mal, Book, and maybe even Hannibal, the last to see if the detrimentally determined doctor had had a hand in the City's..experiment? He was certain he hadn't gone completely mad, yet perhaps he had deserved it for aiding in the creation of a particular virus.

He allowed himself a small bit of routine before yanking on more appropriate gear and heading out. River's apartment had been his original destination; the City didn't seem to want that. He tried Jennifer and Jake, and again, no luck. He didn't know where to find some of the people, and when he stopped by the church building, he started to lose hope. Had the Shepherd gone? He needed to talk to someone, to know that someone, anyone was okay. He just had to find them first.

The numbers were dwindling; in fact, Dr. Simon hadn't seen anyone he somewhat recognized in a little while. It was a little disturbing, yet comforting. Maybe he had helped them, and they were released. Maybe he hadn't helped them, but they were still released. He didn't dwell too long on it because he also started to feel a little anxiety. If other people were getting out, why wasn't he? He was helpful, mild mannered, and even clean. He didn't hurt anyone, and he worked hard to get better. So, why wasn't he getting out of this place?

Dr. Simon was wondering that very thing as he was led down the hallway to a door he hadn't seen before. He glanced down at his feet and smiled; the beagle slippers hadn't shown up since he gave them to Ted. Hopefully that meant he wouldn't have to see them again...unless that was why he wasn't being let out and was now being taken somewhere he had never been. He put his hands in his pockets to hide what he knew had to be sure signs of agitation, fingers rubbing against each other, hands clenching into fits and releasing only to clench again. He took a deep breath as he was showed into a room. The doctor looked up at him then back at the clipboard.

"You're being released. Sign here and here. Someone will be by in a few minutes with your clothes and other personal affects to let you go. Wait here patiently." Dr. Simon stared at the doctor. "Simon..." The doctor paused, waiting to see if Dr. Simon would do anything; he didn't, not even point out the handmade badge, in pastels this time - it was all they had. "Simon, you're going home. You're well. Now sign."

Dr. Simon leaned over to sign the two places the doctor had shown him, then took off the lab coat with the name tag and handed it to the man. He'd have his own on the outside, right? He didn't need those anymore. With that the doctor stepped out and Dr..no, just Simon sat down in the chair to wait for his things.

Dr. Simon was making the rounds. He hadn't seen Dr. Strange since their last meeting, but he suspected the man was working hard to help the patients. Unless he had slipped back into talking about his strange obsession with doormen. Or just the one named Mu. Dr. Simon was still trying to figure out why anyone would want to be part of an immortal fishing hole, not that he'd ever been to a fishing hole. He supposed it could be pleasant and calming.

At the moment, Dr. Simon was out in the courtyard. There had been an incident recently with an armed patient, but it had been settled. Dr. Simon had warned the staff that sporks were evil; while they may be efficient and decrease clutter, sporks were certainly acts against nature in their hybridized form. Chop sticks were much cleaner. The staff had told Dr. Simon in no uncertain terms that chop sticks were more dangerous than sporks. That had been that.

The good doctor walked slowly along the outer part of the courtyard, watching the patients, making sure they were interacting well when they did interact. It seemed to be a nice calm place, and Dr. Simon was rather happy to be out of the building proper. He was beginning to get restless; something didn't feel right, as if he'd forgotten something. He knew it couldn't have been leaving the oven or the iron on as he had neither. No, he felt as if he weren't complete. It was a disturbing feeling no matter the source, so he hoped that helping one of the patients would ease that unsettling/disturbed feeling.

"Doctor."

"Doctor."

"Doctor."

"Doctor....Wait a minute. He's not a doctor."

"Just humor him." The staff seemed more than willing to play along with one of the inmates. One who seemed to believe he really was a doctor. ( Actually he was, but that was a whole other kettle of fish. )

Graduation. It was supposed to be a special day, spent with friends and family. It was supposed to be a celebration of achievements, a transition into another stage of life. It was supposed to be an adventure.

A year ago, graduation had been an adventure that Raven had really wanted to embark upon. No danger, no loss. She could have gotten on-board with the idea of going to college, or taking a trip with Mac and Mal. A little normalcy, a break after several long years of fighting and fear.

( Then she'd come to the City. )

Cameron was really sick of looking up infectious diseases. She was sick of studying when she should have been working under House. The problem was that the City did not have House, but instead supplied her with a Cannibal by the name of Hannibal, who was completely fictional and terrifying. At least there was Wilson, but Wilson could not fill in the blank that House left.

He was good at something and that was dealing with people who had Cancer. He could not be House.

After giving up studying Cameron found herself back down in the clinic and dealing with patients of all shapes and sizes. But none were that challenging. Drug users that wanted their fix - Out! Kids with the flu, as always, getting shots. Adults with the sniffles convinced they had some kind of rare disease and not the common cold.

Cameron wanted a challenge. Either that or she needed to get out more and stop working here so much. But the Hospital was at home as anything else in this city.

She missed House. She needed House. She was going to go insane.

The fun had gone down quite a bit in the hospital since one Doctor Wilson decided that he was going to check in on Hannibal and Simon. That all requests needed to be sent to him as well. The experiments had to stop. Well, at the very least, Hannibal could only use the stuff he'd gotten before the Wrath Of Wilson.

He sat in his office, wondering if he could acquire new things through Dr Cameron. She was his underling. Perhaps if things went through under her name, Wilson wouldn't pitch such a fit.

Hannibal looked toward the cage that harbored the monkey. He'd done a lot since the last time he'd talked to Simon, and would have liked to discuss the newest discoveries, but he hadn't seen Simon in a very long time. Another reason why he was bored.

Actually, he hadn't seen River either.

It seemed to him that nothing significant or fun had happened in The City in a very long time.

Jen sat on the couch, curled up with a book that she'd found in the library. She'd gone with non-fiction, because after the whole Hannibal Lecter thing, she hadn't wanted to peer into any lives that she might run into in the future, or find out about anybody she already knew. So she was reading about different kinds of butterflies and their growth cycles.

Long ago, she'd installed a button outside that Jake could push to get in if he went out. There was a matching one on this side of the door, too. It read Jake's paw print and wouldn't let anybody else in by that route. How it worked, she had no idea. But the guy at the housewears store had told her about it when she'd gone to find a cat door. It just seemed wrong to have a cat as smart as Jake cooped up in the house all the time with no way to get out. And she couldn't - as an officer of the law - just leave the door open.

So she wasn't at all surprised when the door swung open wide enough to allow the cat in. She just turned from her book, smiling.

"Hi Jake."

Simon had had a bad day, or bad days. He needed someone to talk to, but he didn't know who. Jennifer seemed to be busy; George was out of the question. River? Hannibal? No, he couldn't go to either of them; they wouldn't understand for all their great brain powers. He needed to talk to someone who wouldn't judge, which left out Mal. He'd never really set down and talked with Zoe or Wash, but he had a feeling that might not be for the positive. There was Inara...No, not even Inara. Simon needed someone who could truly listen and who later he wouldn't feel the need to pay or kiss.

"Book." He didn't want to doom the man to this place, but the man would have been a god-send, whatever god that was. The shepherd understood the doctor's way of life, or what it had been, even if the older man wasn't one to partake of it. Yes, Simon needed some perspective, and the shepherd would have given it, whether Dr. Tam liked it or not.

He had finished his shift and decided to go walking; the Park had become a place of interest, and that had been his intention. Yet, even the best intentions could be hijacked by the City. Case in point - Simon found his way to a church building. He supposed it made sense, seeing as he'd wanted Book, only in the advisory sort of way, but he'd wanted him.

With a shrug and a sigh, Simon entered the building; he wasn't religious - science didn't really give over to it. Though lately Simon had found himself praying a little more than he used to, even back on Serenity. So, he walked in and stood just within the entrance, waiting. "This is ridiculous."

He needed a drink.

He needed time.

He needed to redo everything and maybe be back on Serenity where none of this would have happened in the first place.

He needed to run.

Simon had left the fire by Serenity, a fire that would have been welcoming if he still felt welcome on the ship. It had been his home for a very short while, and he maybe he had hoped that he might be able to fit in; but, fate, destiny, whatever it was that seemed to control his life sometimes had other plans.

The good doctor didn't go home; he let the City take him wherever it wanted, and he was soon standing outside a building he had never seen before. He really wasn't surprised by this; the City did like to present new places to its inhabitants on occasion. He was also too emotionally exhausted to feel surprise. Although, he did wonder how he could have missed it. The tall dark building. He should have been able to see it from the Hospital, probably anywhere in the City actually.

Crossing the street and being careful of any cars rushing by - that'd been how he'd met George, she'd been hit by an oncoming car - he was soon standing at the front door to the building. There wasn't anyone in the lobby as far as he could tell; no, wait, a security guard. Just one security guard for such a big building. The structure reminded him a little of home, so clean and tall and modern. Without really thinking about it, he rested his forehead against the glass and stared at his reflection, what he could see if it around the "Wayne Industries" logo.

"And this is why you're a winner with the ladies. They love a man full of self-loathing."

The split log landed atop the burning campfire with a loud clap and a rising flurry of orange specks that drifted upward with the smoke. The Captain, who'd not only thrown the timber, but cut it earlier, sat back down on one of the steel footlockers that had been pulled out of the ship to encircle the fire pit.

Sure, the weather had taken a rather pleasurable turn from the snow and ice that had come before it, but nights still had a cutting chill to them. The ship had heat, but even Mal was getting frustrated with the walls of Serenity's hull when it wasn't cruising through the black, leaving the City far behind.

The rising sparks dulled as they floated higher, the orange fading into black against the dark, star-dotted sky. The expanse of space stretched out each night as if only to taunt the planet-bound Browncoat. Lowering his gaze from the stars, he came to focus on the flames as they lapped the firewood. Quiet nights on Serenity used to be anything but. Dinner conversation would linger long after the meal'd been choked down; usually up until he or Inara insulted the other, or River did something... odd. Wash and Zoe'd manage to slip off while no one was paying any particular attention. In times where they'd had a fire like this, Jayne'd been known to trade in a gun (singular, not plural) for a guitar; Kaylee'd be trying to snag a seat closest to the doctor and it would all remind Shepherd Book of some story he'd want to share.

But here? Now? It was just Mal.

Or was it?