Hello All,

This here's my first ever Firefly/Serenity fic. I saw the movie for the first time about 2 weeks ago and I started writing this almost immediately. I have since rented the entire series and the episode "Out of Gas" shows a different beginning to the one I imagined. But I liked what I had so far so rather than change it all I decided to just keep with it. So I guess y'all have to take it as another possible version of the story of Wash's beginnings aboard the Serenity. Read and review, pretty please!

-Moki

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"Wash!" Mal cried and was pleased to see a glimpse of blonde behind one of the canisters bob up. Quick reflexes in a pilot were something he looked for and he was glad to see his new recruit was fitting the bill. If only they were all this quick. Well then he wouldn't have to keep finding new pilots. Maybe this one would last a while, he hoped.

"Yeah!" Wash replied, keeping as low as he could to avoid the bullets zinging overhead. He sure didn't remember "must dodge bullets well" as part of the job description when he signed up with this crew. Since when did ducking bullets become part of this job? Jeez only two weeks aboard his new charge and already he was in fear of his life. Oh well, such is the life of an independent pilot like himself. Choose to not work for the Alliance and this was where you ended up, behind a barrel, figuratively and literally. He really was going to have to speak to personnel about this. Oh yeah except there was no "personnel", except for Mal that is. Somehow he didn't think Mal would give a gopher's butt about the complaint so Wash decided to keep his yap shut and his head down where it belonged.

"Prep the ship and wait for my command to disembark. We'll make quick work of these folks and be off on our merry way in just a quick sec" Mal said, smiling grimly as he quickly and easily dispatched another would-be pirate. Poor things, he almost felt sorry for them. They didn't expect his ragtag team to be so wily, he thought. This trade was supposed to go off pretty smoothly but he hadn't expected them to try and take the loot AND the money he and his crew had earned. The criminals (okay so yeah he could be called that too, but still) were now realizing just what a mistake they had made, too late of course.

Wash ran to the ladder on the bulkhead and started pulling himself up two rungs at a time. He was thinking of what parts of the take-off procedure he could shave off to save some time when someone kicked him in the back. Well at least that's what it felt like. Angry that one of those dogs would try to come after him when he hadn't really done anything (who went after the pilot? Wasn't that against the rules or something?), he turned with fists ready. While it was true that Wash would prefer to walk away from a fight rather than be in one, he could still hold his own when necessary and now seemed like a pretty "necessary" time.

"Come on!" he yelled to his as yet invisible assailant as he twisted around on the top rung "Come and get me!"

But as he looked back he saw no one behind him. Thinking that the man must have run off, Wash reached forward to pull himself up from the top step onto the walkway. That's when he felt the pain….. felt the pain and saw the blood.

"Uh oh"

It was all he could think to say.

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Mal shot backup fire for Jayne and was relieved when the bigger man bagged the final vulture. Zoe had already started dragging bodies to the hold door and together they tossed the trash back onto their own ship. Jayne closed the lock and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. But the captain knew that the rest of that particular crew was on their way to help their wayward brothers and reached for his mike. They needed to get the heck out of there. Walking away from the other two, he called up to his new pilot.

"Wash, get us out of here real quick-like now" he said and waited for a response but only got silence back in return. Smacking his mike (Kaylee would kick him in he knees if she saw him do that but somehow he always thought a good smack made things work better) he called again.

"Wash!" he said and again waited. This time he heard a reply but something wasn't right. The sound didn't seem to be coming from the mike in his hand. It was like it was there in the room with him.

"Yeah….." a voice replied and Mal realized it was coming from above. Puzzled, Mal looked up and saw his new pilot above them on the walkway near the ladder. Mal distinctly remembered telling this man to get to his post. Many colorful words about disobeying a direct order came to mind and nearly came out of his mouth until he realized something.

Now Mal had noticed in the time the new pilot had been aboard that Wash had a tendency to wear wildly patterned (were they called "Hawaiian" or somesuch nonsense?) shirts and today had been no different. So now as Mal looked up at his pilot he took stock of what he was seeing and compared it to what he remembered the man to be wearing earlier. One thing was certain and that was that Wash's shirt hadn't been mostly solid red five minutes ago.

It was then that he looked Wash straight in the eye and noticed something he unfortunately had seen a lot in men's eyes throughout his life. Seen in the war and even many times since. Pain.

"Gorram it" Mal whispered to himself and ran up the ladder and onto the walkway to Wash's side. Wash had somehow managed to get himself up there and was now leaning against the bulkhead, unable to move any farther. A light sweat covered his face as he held his side with both hands. Blood poured through his fingers but Mal noticed that he didn't seem too keen to take a gander at it.

"Well, looks like you're trying to find an excuse not fly this trip. You know I usually wait a few months before giving new crew any vacation time. So if you want time off you can just forget it" Mal said with a quick smile of reassurance, deftly pulling aside Wash's hands and taking a look at the wound. One quick look told him that it was bad but he carefully kept his expression neutral. Though he found himself having an unbidden thought - maybe he was going to lose another pilot after all.

"Oh really?" Wash said breathlessly, falling right in with the joke, despite the almost unbearable pain in his side. Where had that wonderful numbness gone too? He hadn't even noticed he was shot because of that original numbness. He could use some more of that, he thought.

"And here I thought I'd get at least a week off with credit for this one" Mal admired the man's spunk at a time like this. It was something he would've probably said himself. Wash chuckled, then winced and became quieter as he looked down at Mal's hands pulling up his shirt. Mal had carefully pulled away the blood-soaked material and was gingerly examining the area around the bullet hole with his fingers.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen quite this much blood before. At least not coming from a living body" Wash remarked quietly, looking up at Mal with thoughtful eyes.

"A body bleeding like that is a good thing, it means you ain't dead yet" Mal replied. It was something he had often said to his men on the front lines. He knew that it meant nothing but it gave both them and him a sense of assurance so always said it. Though he really wished he'd never have to say it again. That would be nice. But now he had an injured member of the crew to deal with so he tossed that thought out of his mind and called Jayne over to carry Wash to the Infirmary. Jayne picked the other man up as if he weighed nothing more than a babe and headed down the walkway. Jayne's strength never ceased to amaze Mal. Wash was a good six feet tall himself but yet Jayne walked down the hall as if he carried nothing more than a doll.

Zoe heard Mal yell for Jayne and looked up from where she had been checking the outer door lock and saw him kneeling by their new pilot. Shoot, she thought, now we're gonna have to train a new one and this one was working out so well. Finishing up with the lock and checking one last time on the cargo to make sure it was secure she followed behind Jayne to help.

After ordering Kaylee to take over the ship and get them the hell out of there (for he still hadn't forgotten the original danger of the other ship) Mal ran to the Infirmary behind his other crew members.

By the time he got there Wash was lying on the medical area's main bed and Zoe had started cutting off his shirt. Wash protested briefly (it was one of his favorite shirts) but then he must've realized that it was already ruined and quietly submitted to her ministrations. Mal rolled up his sleeves and quickly washed his hands. He then reached above the sink to get what he knew would be needed right away. I really need to get a medic on this rig, he thought to himself as he headed over to the bed to get to work. Zoe and he weren't docs by any stretch but they knew a lot of basic aid and could even handle slight injuries themselves. He didn't think this one qualified as "slight" but best not to think about that now.

Wash was trying to stay quiet and as still as possible as Mal came over with supplies from the medical cabinet. But it was getting harder and harder as the pain kept getting worse and worse. Despite his best efforts, he found himself shifting his feet around and gripping at the bedside with his hands.

"Captain?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Can't you guys give me anything for the pain?"

"Just hold on a little while longer friend, we've gotta know what we're dealing with here before we numb you up too much to tell us what hurts" Mal replied, never taking his eyes off what he was doing. Personally, Wash thought that they could pretty much tell very easily what was wrong, drugs or no drugs. He thought the hole is his side might be a dead giveaway but maybe he didn't know enough about such things. So he closed his eyes and waited for them to finish.

Gently as he could Mal examined Wash's wound closely under the light and realized very quickly that it was an exit, not an entry wound. That meant it must've entered from the back. This could be either good or bad news. He needed a better look to know which would apply in this case.

"Zoe, help me turn him over" he said and they both gently rolled the pilot to right side. Sure enough they found the entry and using pillows, struggled to keep Wash as comfortable as possible in that position. He was going to have to stay that way for a time while they worked.

Wash bit his lip to keep quiet when they turned him over but when they started examining the hole in his back he couldn't help himself and cried out. He didn't know why but that back one hurt like a mother, somehow more than the front. Upon hearing his cry, Zoe instinctively reached out and grabbed his hand. She hardly realized she had done it until his hand was grasped in both of hers and she found herself looking at him more closely. Wash's eyes were tightly closed with a slight tear or two edging its way out of each eye. Almost as if there were more tears back there but his lids were dutifully holding back the flood. She was touched by this for some reason. Not that she hadn't seen a man cry before. During the war she and the captain both had seen things that had made many a man cry, women too for that matter.

But this was different and she couldn't put her finger on why just yet. She supposed it was what she saw in his face that compelled her to feel this way. Having stood by many a man and woman during battle, all fallen comrades, she was used to the emotions that were usually shown at a time like this. Usually it ran one way or the other. Complete, total, utter, pant-wetting, give me my momma fear or the very popular (more with men than women) "this doesn't hurt, I'm just fine" response. She understood the former though she sometimes pitied it but she hated the latter. Seemed to her that folks should just accept what was going on rather than pretending it wasn't happening. No matter how many times she saw it she always knew one thing about that response. It never worked. When those folks finally did realized what was happening to them they usually panicked so bad that they hindered the very people trying to help them.

But in Wash's face she saw something new, neither the former nor the latter. She saw acceptance. Sure there was pain there too, it would be insanity for there not to be. But she saw his acceptance of his unusual predicament and the ability to just be there, in the moment, despite the horrendous agony that he surely must be feeling. He was allowing them to help and accepting what they were doing to him without too much fuss. This would help them to help him and this intrigued her. Now wanting him to know she was really there with him, she spoke to him.

"Wash" she said quietly and was pleased to see that got his attention. Looking him dead in the eye she squeezed his hand as the captain finished the exam. She didn't say anything else knowing that it was best to keep as quiet as possible. Seemed like talking, noises and the like just freaked people out more so they just didn't do it. The captain and her had figured that out, even when they themselves had gotten wounded. When the hurting was really bad it was best to just keep quiet if you could.

Wash was glad for her silence as she gazed into his eyes because right now it felt like even the slightest noise would somehow hurt him more. How that was possible he didn't know, but it's how he felt. He had felt hands grab hold of his but in his stupor of pain, he hadn't realized who it could be until Zoe had spoken his name. Now she simply looked at him, not saying a word but communicating nonetheless. He saw no fear or pity in her eyes and that made him feel a might bit better, though he couldn't have explained why.

"Okay Wash, I'm gonna give you something to help, just hang on another second there" Mal said, going to the cabinet above the sink again and pulling out a small vial. He attached it to a syringe and began pulling a carefully measured amount of liquid through the needle. He then waited as Zoe quickly cleaned the pilot's arm to prep for the injection. Plunging the needle quickly into Wash's arm, he pushed the plunger and almost immediately saw the other man's body relax.

Wash felt the needle plunge into his skin but hardly cared immediately after it was done. A wave of warmth passed over his body and the cold aching pain in his side backed off a little. He took a long breath and relaxed his head onto the pillow, noticing now that Zoe held his hand again in hers. He looked more closely at her then, while her attention was on Mal and now that his head was a little clearer.

How come he hadn't noticed until now just how beautiful she was?