Say Something (Firefly, joss100 prompt #63)
Title: Say Something
Author: callispi
Rating: G
Character(s): River
Prompt: Set 2, #63: Silence
Word Count: 323
Summary: All she hears is silence.
Seated in the chair with her arms around her knees, she stared at the little figurines. They were lifelessly sentient, painted with brown and green. Relics of the earth-that-was.
“Say something,” she muttered, peering at them with the soundless intensity of a thousand suns.
“River, what are you doing?” a voice came from the doorway.
River noted the presence, processed it to be a non-threat, and immediately dismissed the question. She kept staring at the figurines. They stared back at her silently.
“River, why did you leave your room? I was looking all over for -”
“They’re not speaking anymore, and it hurts my ears,” River explained, not taking her eyes off the molded plastic.
He walked in slowly, as if she were a skittish animal about to lash out.
“River, let’s go back to your room. You need some sleep,” he said soothingly. He was next to her, with his hands on her shoulders. River barely felt them. She just wanted him to be quiet, and she wanted them to talk again.
After a while - River didn’t bother counting the minutes - he squeezed her shoulder and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
River blinked, and slowly, the consoles of the bridge materialized. River turned her gaze toward Simon and cocked her head.
“I knew the dosages weren’t strong enough. After Miranda, you improved so much. I just thought we could ease up with the meds a bit.”
River felt the guilt pulsate around him, like a heartbeat.
She could hear his heartbeat, she thought sadly, but she couldn’t hear them talk.
River unhooked her arms from around her knees. She stood up, the pads of her feet meeting the cold, steel floor.
“They’ll never speak again,” River whispered, grazing her fingers over the two dinosaurs.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “They never have, River.”
River followed him to her room, not bothering to tell him he was wrong.
Author: callispi
Rating: G
Character(s): River
Prompt: Set 2, #63: Silence
Word Count: 323
Summary: All she hears is silence.
Seated in the chair with her arms around her knees, she stared at the little figurines. They were lifelessly sentient, painted with brown and green. Relics of the earth-that-was.
“Say something,” she muttered, peering at them with the soundless intensity of a thousand suns.
“River, what are you doing?” a voice came from the doorway.
River noted the presence, processed it to be a non-threat, and immediately dismissed the question. She kept staring at the figurines. They stared back at her silently.
“River, why did you leave your room? I was looking all over for -”
“They’re not speaking anymore, and it hurts my ears,” River explained, not taking her eyes off the molded plastic.
He walked in slowly, as if she were a skittish animal about to lash out.
“River, let’s go back to your room. You need some sleep,” he said soothingly. He was next to her, with his hands on her shoulders. River barely felt them. She just wanted him to be quiet, and she wanted them to talk again.
After a while - River didn’t bother counting the minutes - he squeezed her shoulder and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
River blinked, and slowly, the consoles of the bridge materialized. River turned her gaze toward Simon and cocked her head.
“I knew the dosages weren’t strong enough. After Miranda, you improved so much. I just thought we could ease up with the meds a bit.”
River felt the guilt pulsate around him, like a heartbeat.
She could hear his heartbeat, she thought sadly, but she couldn’t hear them talk.
River unhooked her arms from around her knees. She stood up, the pads of her feet meeting the cold, steel floor.
“They’ll never speak again,” River whispered, grazing her fingers over the two dinosaurs.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “They never have, River.”
River followed him to her room, not bothering to tell him he was wrong.