Not The Diary Type

Simon had never been the diary type. The simple idea of writing down and recording all of the goings on in his life tired him to no end and made him want to curl up in a corner and hide, or else run as fast as he possibly could in the other direction. No, he really didn't like keeping a diary.

Out of necessity, he had begun one though; starting several days before he'd gotten River out of the 'prison' the Alliance had held her in. It was more of a record book or a journal than a diary when he thought about it. The first few entries outlined the plans he'd made with the underground group he'd been in contact with to rescue his sister.

He had used the 'diary' to keep track of River's mental state and her health since then, along with medications he'd given her to quell her pain. It was the only way he was able to keep track of the seemingly hundreds of variations he'd tried, and as much as he didn't like it, it had become an obsession to rant on about anything and everything that concerned River.

It couldn't be healthy for him, but now that he'd begun, he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. If there was a change – even the smallest, slightest chance – that he could stumble upon a cure…

He just had to keep going.

Simon had never been the diary type, but no matter what, he had made himself a promise. He had promised himself that he would protect his sister even under the worst circumstances. His dislike for diaries was not on the top of that list, but it was one of many sacrifices he'd made.

It was one thing – one very insignificant thing – that he would have to endure.