Fic: No Power in the 'Verse, Part 3/18 (Firefly, River/Mal, PG-13)
Title: No Power in the 'Verse: III. Close to the Smoke
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~800
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Mal/Inara and Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title from The Shore by Basia Bulat
III. Close to the Smoke
A week after Inara's departure, River awakens in the dark. It is not time for her to be active, but there's a haze of smoke in her mind suffocating her thoughts, and she seeks out the fire.
On the bridge, the Captain is still, face to the black. He's always been the hardest for her to read, lets off the least emotion. But now, even through his walls and fences, she can read go away as loud as if he'd spoken it.
He doesn't even glance at her as she slips soundless into her chair.
Being ignored fails to bother River; she merely draws her knees up, rests her head, and watches the stars.
Finally he shakes himself into action, flips a switch, checks some screens that will tell him nothing he doesn't already know. “What's got you up here? Ain't your watch.”
She does not turn, has the instinct not to face him head on. “Storm's rolling over.”
He looks out into the clear black, back down at the screens. “Way looks clear enough to me, little one. Why don't you head on back down to bed?”
“Not out there. In there.” She points without looking to his head.
Though she does not meet the glance he throws her way, she knows it holds no warmth.
“I know that you're aware takin' walks in other people's heads ain't a pleasant thing, River. Not for them, and not for you if you keep doing it to me, dong ma?”
She shakes her head, refusing to be unbalanced by the accusation. “Didn't need to walk. Thoughts blew all over the ship, got in my eyes. I couldn't sleep with them crowding me. Isn't pleasant.”
He is silent for so long she risks a peek through her hair, sees his hands clenched on the controls.
“Don't have to talk about it,” she says, eyes steadily on the black once more. “Sometimes thoughts don't make proper words. I know. Sometimes we have to hold them in symbols and images until they're safe to touch again.”
There's still no response, so she continues to feel her way through the haze. “Sometimes it helps, to have someone there. Something solid to touch on when the images get too real.” She picks out a single star, focuses on it until her vision blurs. The smoke of his thoughts has darkened around her, phantoms of their lost shipmates wandering in the haze. She feels bits of Mal float past with them, as though he's put so much of himself into his crew he's fragmenting as they vanish. Taking a deep breath, she focuses on the core of hope within her to help form words from emotion. “Love doesn't disappear, just because the people did. Stays where they're carried. Have to build it into a foundation, set your future on it.” Thoughts of love pick through her past, create a flash of her parents in her mind; she flinches, brings up an image of Simon to fight it, then Kaylee and Mal and Zoe, until the moment has passed. “Can't let the past bind you. Can't live in it, but you can go through the doors it opens. Just have to keep moving.”
She risks another glance at him, would think he wasn't listening if she didn't know better. “Still have us, Captain. Still have your family.”
His silence stretches on, and she begins to think that she has failed for this night, that Mal still wants to choke on the fires of pain and regret and bitterness within him.
Just as her leaving is about to stray from possibility into action, he finally speaks. “We ever go over port control and landing procedures? 'Bout time you took over landing this boat in places where you gotta ask permission.”
She shakes her head and settles in; there is little about Serenity or the flying of her that she hasn't learned in one way or another already, but that doesn't matter now. Though he's still not looking at her, his mind is freer, touching on her instead of burning with images; this is a beginning.
Her patience is rewarded an hour later, when Mal stretches and heads off to catch a few hours' sleep before they land. Pausing a moment behind her, he lays a hand on her shoulder and she can feel his fires are banked, for now.
“Thanks, li'l albatross.”
Taking the ship in her hands, River smiles. It may not be much, but for now at least, this will be enough.
Part 2 - Master Post - Part 4
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~800
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Mal/Inara and Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title from The Shore by Basia Bulat
III. Close to the Smoke
A week after Inara's departure, River awakens in the dark. It is not time for her to be active, but there's a haze of smoke in her mind suffocating her thoughts, and she seeks out the fire.
On the bridge, the Captain is still, face to the black. He's always been the hardest for her to read, lets off the least emotion. But now, even through his walls and fences, she can read go away as loud as if he'd spoken it.
He doesn't even glance at her as she slips soundless into her chair.
Being ignored fails to bother River; she merely draws her knees up, rests her head, and watches the stars.
Finally he shakes himself into action, flips a switch, checks some screens that will tell him nothing he doesn't already know. “What's got you up here? Ain't your watch.”
She does not turn, has the instinct not to face him head on. “Storm's rolling over.”
He looks out into the clear black, back down at the screens. “Way looks clear enough to me, little one. Why don't you head on back down to bed?”
“Not out there. In there.” She points without looking to his head.
Though she does not meet the glance he throws her way, she knows it holds no warmth.
“I know that you're aware takin' walks in other people's heads ain't a pleasant thing, River. Not for them, and not for you if you keep doing it to me, dong ma?”
She shakes her head, refusing to be unbalanced by the accusation. “Didn't need to walk. Thoughts blew all over the ship, got in my eyes. I couldn't sleep with them crowding me. Isn't pleasant.”
He is silent for so long she risks a peek through her hair, sees his hands clenched on the controls.
“Don't have to talk about it,” she says, eyes steadily on the black once more. “Sometimes thoughts don't make proper words. I know. Sometimes we have to hold them in symbols and images until they're safe to touch again.”
There's still no response, so she continues to feel her way through the haze. “Sometimes it helps, to have someone there. Something solid to touch on when the images get too real.” She picks out a single star, focuses on it until her vision blurs. The smoke of his thoughts has darkened around her, phantoms of their lost shipmates wandering in the haze. She feels bits of Mal float past with them, as though he's put so much of himself into his crew he's fragmenting as they vanish. Taking a deep breath, she focuses on the core of hope within her to help form words from emotion. “Love doesn't disappear, just because the people did. Stays where they're carried. Have to build it into a foundation, set your future on it.” Thoughts of love pick through her past, create a flash of her parents in her mind; she flinches, brings up an image of Simon to fight it, then Kaylee and Mal and Zoe, until the moment has passed. “Can't let the past bind you. Can't live in it, but you can go through the doors it opens. Just have to keep moving.”
She risks another glance at him, would think he wasn't listening if she didn't know better. “Still have us, Captain. Still have your family.”
His silence stretches on, and she begins to think that she has failed for this night, that Mal still wants to choke on the fires of pain and regret and bitterness within him.
Just as her leaving is about to stray from possibility into action, he finally speaks. “We ever go over port control and landing procedures? 'Bout time you took over landing this boat in places where you gotta ask permission.”
She shakes her head and settles in; there is little about Serenity or the flying of her that she hasn't learned in one way or another already, but that doesn't matter now. Though he's still not looking at her, his mind is freer, touching on her instead of burning with images; this is a beginning.
Her patience is rewarded an hour later, when Mal stretches and heads off to catch a few hours' sleep before they land. Pausing a moment behind her, he lays a hand on her shoulder and she can feel his fires are banked, for now.
“Thanks, li'l albatross.”
Taking the ship in her hands, River smiles. It may not be much, but for now at least, this will be enough.
Part 2 - Master Post - Part 4