shatterverse | (no subject)

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Somewhere, on a distant moon in a distant reality, there is a small group of people staring at a point where a spaceship once sat, about to begin acting out a sci-fi version of that great cinematic classic, Dude, Where's My Car?

It's a lot worse when the question is "Dude, Where's My Spaceship?"

The answer to that question, not that they'll ever hear it, is this: Earth. Where, exactly, is hard to say, but hopefully not too far from civilization, because her pilot's in a bad way what with that big honkin' space spear sticking out of his chest.

At least the sound-and-light show created by the arrival of an entire spaceship is big enough to get some attention.

Calling all healers?

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Well, shit.

A spaceship just appeared on the road.

And there's a big honkin' space spear--

Yeah, this is Gray pulling over and hurrying (insofar as he ever hurries) into Serenity's cockpit.

Luckily there's a plentitude of broken glass with which to provide delightful healing blood.

Poor Serenity. Her cockpit is pretty mangled.

Poor Wash. So is his chest.

Yeah. Shit.

Okay, first order of business: find something sharp. (Done.)

Second order of business: grab that great big space spear and heave. He'll feel it later, but the pilot's going to be feeling it a lot worse pretty soon.

Third order of business: bleed messily all over that gaping wound. (Ow.)

Cue gasping, spluttering confusion from the pilot in the Hawaiian shirt.

"ZOE! What....nĭ tāmāde tiānxià suŏyŏu de rén dōu gāisĭ, what the Hell is going on?"

...that was impressive.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," says Gray dispassionately, tossing the bloodied, twisted metal fragment to the floor. The cuts along his wrist are already closed, as is the giant sucking hole in Wash's chest, leaving behind absolutely nothing in the way of a scar.

"You've been transported to an alternate universe."

".......cào nĭ zŭxiān shí bă dai! I.....that's.....fàngzòng fēngkuáng de jié, there's no way, you're...fēng kuáng de....did the Reavers get you?"

In reasonable tones: "Do I look gotten?"

"No....you kind of look like my doctor."

Except not as well-dressed. Simon's a little bit of a clotheshorse.

"My name is Gray."

Look, he'll even offer a handshake!

"....Wash."

And there is shake.

"You're....you're not crazy, are you? It really is another world?"

"No I am not crazy, and yes it really is another world. Don't worry. It gets less... harrowing in time."

"Wŏ de mā hé tā de fēngkuáng de wàisheng dōu, wŏ de mā hé tā de fēngkuáng de wàisheng dōu?" Wash rubs his hands over his face. "So, uh. Where, specifically, am I? Other than 'not in your world'?"

"Just north of Kansas, as it happens."

Given the spaceship, he feels compelled to add, "On Earth."

".......................................................Earth-That-Was?"

There are no words to describe the expression on Wash's face.

"For real?"

Solemn nod.

".....wow. It's....it's not there anymore, in my world. It got used up."

"This version is in no danger of being used up. Overrun by kraken, dinosaurs, homicidal robots, and other sundry horrors, yes. Used up... there aren't enough people left."

"Cái búshì!"

Wash exhales sharply.

"Is....is there food? Because there's protein on the ship, and some medical supplies...."

"We'll be wanting that, I think, but we have supplies of our own. Mostly fruit, for no reason I can discern."

"Real fruit?"

Wash may be drooling a little. Sorry about that.

"Real, fresh fruit," he confirms. "We never run out. I suspect someone among our contingent of gatherers has a fondness for it."

"We don't get a lot of that where I'm from."

Beat.

"Where I used to live. I kind of suspect that I'd be dead if it wasn't for....thanks."

"You're welcome."

Really, it was no trouble.

"So, anything that I can provide for you and your people....I guess, until I can find a way back to my world, I might as well stick around here...."

Wash is not going to ever, ever give up on getting back to Zoe.

Gray understands. In theory at least.

He nods.

"If you can get your vehicle operable again, the farm I live on is south of here. You'll know it when you see it. If you can't, I have a car."

"I'm not a mechanic," Wash says regretfully, "but I suspect she's going to need parts that I just can't get here."

"In that case, would you like to come with me? There may be mechanics at the farm who could help, if nothing else."

Privately, Wash doubts that, unless...

"You don't have a perky little redhead named Kaylee running around, do you?"

"Not so far as I know."

"Shame. She's our mechanic, and the best one in the 'verse."

"Perhaps you'll find someone who'll serve."

Or not.

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