serafina20 | Firefly fic

I'm pretty sure no one on LJ is reading it. And yet, I post...

Out of everything that Simon had had to give up in his quest to save River, hot water was what he missed the most. Not just hot water; as much hot water as he could use. More hot water than he could ever use. And he had it, at least for the moment.

Last night, he'd taken a bath. When the water had gotten cold, he'd filled it back up with hot water and took another one. The first thing he did on waking was get into the shower. For the past half hour, he'd just been standing under the spray, face tilted into it, letting the water cascade down his body, washing away the filth and blood and grime and stress of the past few years.

An alarm sounded, signaling that it was close to breakfast. With a heavy sigh, Simon turned the water off and stepped out. He toweled his body off before stepping out. As he scrubbed at his hair, trying to sop up the excess water, he moved back into his room.

"Morning."

Simon leapt a foot in the air, heart seizing. "Jesus!" he swore. He yanked the towel off his head.

Prophet was stretched across the unmade bed. He was on his side, head resting on Simon's bunched up pillow, a book flat on the mattress.

"Prophet," Simon started, but he didn't know what else to say. The boy obviously planned to annoy him to death; Simon was simply thankful that he'd let Simon sleep in peace last night. "Good morning," he finally decided on. He dropped the towel to his waist and wrapped it around to preserve some sense of modesty.

"Isn't it nice to have hot water?" Prophet said, turning the page. He glanced up at Simon, eyes hot on Simon's skin.

Simon flushed, his normally pale skin, already reddened from the shower, burning hotter. "Um, yes. It is." He turned away, going to the closet.

"Of course, I wouldn't really know," Prophet said. There was a rustle of sheets; when Simon glanced back, he saw that the boy had turned to face the wall, abandoning his book seemingly to give Simon privacy. "What it's like not to have hot water, I mean. Not really. Oh, a few times at the Academy, I was too sick or insane to take a shower. They had to hose me off in one of the rooms with a drain on the floor. The water wasn't cold or anything, but I wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to enjoy it. It's probably on tape somewhere; you think this place is monitored, you should have seen it there. We had no privacy."

"Prophet..."

"Lucky none of us could masturbate, huh? Bank on the black market. Or not so black market. There are plenty of dirty freaks in the Alliance who'd love to have their own personal..."

Simon, who'd dressed, quickly moved across the room and covered Prophet's mouth with his hand. "Please, stop." He couldn't hear it anymore. He didn't want to imagine River being hosed down.

Prophet pulled Simon's hand off his mouth. "Sorry," he said softly. "I had a bad night. I'm a little mouthy this morning."

Simon snorted. "This morning? Then how do you explain yesterday?"

He rolled onto his back, still holding Simon's hand. Prophet's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I was just trying to get your attention. Did it work?" He rubbed his thumb over Simon's palm.

Ai, how did he not see this coming sooner? Or, actually, how did this happen so soon? When Prophet hadn't tried to seduce him the night before, Simon had been relieved and assumed that that was that. That the game was over and Prophet had lost interest. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"Prophet..."

"You don't have to make this complicated."

"Yes, I do. I'm not comfortable with casual. I never have been."

Prophet's lips twitched. "Yeah. I figured." He reached up and put his hand on the back of Simon's neck, tugging Simon down. "Still. This is going to be stressful for you, too." His breath was warm against Simon's face.

Simon licked his lips. Prophet's eyes were so blue and they stood out against his charcoal black tear-dampened lashes. "I was a trauma surgeon. I can handle stress."

"That was a long time ago. And this is your sister."

"It is. But I can't sleep with an emotionally... depressed young man because I'm stressed. I can't... I'd never be sure I wasn't taking advantage."

"Oh, please."

"No, really." But he traced Prophet's full lower lip with his thumb, a hint of longing twisting his stomach. "I'm sorry."

Prophet smirked and let him go. "I'll live." He sat up as Simon did, wiping the last vestiges of tears from his eyes. "I'm not unstable. You were going to say unstable," he said, smiling wryly as Simon opened his mouth to protest. "You were. But you're wrong. I'm not unstable. I'm simply... fu dong."

"That's just unstable in Chinese."

"Not exactly. I mean I'm drifting right now. Have been for years. I'm looking for an anchor." He sighed and rubbed his face. "I had one for awhile, but both Trinity and Camille took off and left me behind, cutting me adrift."

"Why don't you leave?"

"I'm not exactly good at the whole incognito thing. I stick out. Camille's a true chameleon, the only one who is really good at completely submerging her personality and changing her looks so it's hard for even her best friends to recognize her, but everyone who goes out on jobs can do it to some degree. Garrison doesn't seem to think I'm good enough for it to be safe to send me on jobs."

"Do you think you're good enough?"

Prophet smiled and framed his face with his hands. "Who'd want to change this shayna punim?" he asked.

Simon raised his eyebrow.

"Pretty face. It's Yiddish. An ancient language."

"I see. So. You're stuck here, for all intents and purposes. What do you do?"

He shrugged. "I got to class. Go on the so-called missions that Garrison concocts for us so those of us left behind don't flip, read, and try not to get so bored that my mind implodes."

Simon narrowed his eyes and looked at Prophet narrowly. "It doesn't... really do that, does it?"

Prophet laughed and sat up, scooting so his body was close to Simon's. "What do you do on Serenity?"

"Patch up the myriad of cuts and gun-shot wounds the crew manages to accumulate. And, of course, work with my limited resources and even scanter knowledge of what was done to her to try and help River face with world with some semblance of control. Actually, I don't even have to do that so much any more. She's not fine, exactly, and has only a basic grasp on her powers, but she is so much better than she was."

"She's as good as you can get her with what you have."

Simon nodded and plucked at the edge of Prophet's sleeve. It was frayed at the edges, like Prophet wore it incessantly. The shiny, flippant veneer of the day before was wearing away to reveal the human underneath.

"Garrison can help. He's got a lot of experience with this."

"I'm just afraid... When she was freed from the Academy, I was told that she was... their prodigy. The star pupil."

Prophet smiled bitterly. "I wouldn't know. After the experiments began, I never got to see her. Or anyone, you know. Except for the doctors and the occasional Alliance stooge." He turned his hand over, catching Simon's. "Although, at some point, I do sort of remember that things got a little easier. Some of the mental pressure eased." He sighed, nose wrinkling. "It's going to kind of suck around here, once they really start working with her. She might, you know. Get crazier, at least for awhile. We're all schizophrenic, all of us. Because of what they did. But the doctors give us an antipsychotic medication to go along with whatever other chemicals our body isn't making. But before they figure out the right mix, we just go... insane, you know? And with insanity comes a complete loss of control over our powers." He closed his eyes. "It's going to get hard for everyone again. Hopefully the weather will hold, so we can go outside."

"Does it help?"

"Proximity? A little. It depends how strong the psychic. Me and Trinity were the worst until now." His voice caught on Trinity's name. "I wasn't here for her. Everyone told me about how hard I was. It'll be interesting with River."

"I'm sorry," Simon said, not knowing what else to say.

He shook his head. "Don't wish the confusion and chaos on anyone, no matter what my own personal discomfort. Well," he amended, "I wish the confusion and chaos on those who did this to us." Prophet looked up, eyes blazing. "I swear to heaven that, one day, I will kill them. And not quickly, either. Slowly and painfully, I will punish the people who did this to us."

Simon shivered, his hand squeezing Prophet's tightly. "Let me help."

Prophet smiled. "Doctor, anyone who wants is invited to come. It's going to be a fucking party and you are welcome to be my date."

* * *