FIC: No Quiet After Death
Title: No Quiet After Death
Rating: PG
Author: Cella [a.k.a
shortitude]
Characters: Mal, River
Summary: "How many people have you killed?"
River is not there.
There’s a girl looking like River sitting on the floor of Serenity, looking out in space. The girl thinks she can fool the crew, making them think she’s River, but they know better.
Simon is worried, but then again, Simon is always worried. [except when he’s with Kaylee]
Kaylee, Inara, even Zoe try to talk to this River, but this River doesn’t listen to them. Jayne doesn’t bother, River never concerned him much. [except when there had been money, but that had been stupid, and lay forgotten now]
River sits on the catwalk, on her usual spot. She’s looking up at the ceiling, and ignoring everyone else. They don’t understand.
Simon thought once Miranda was over, River would go back to normal. But if anything, it’s gotten worse. River used to speak gibberish all day, and smile at the crew as if she knew something they didn’t. this River isn’t there. This River is quiet, and wants everyone to leave. This River doesn’t speak, and sometimes she forgets to even breathe.
Mal wants to know why.
So he goes to where this River is sitting, and sits down behind her. He’s trying to relax, and for a moment, he keeps quiet. Then:
“Serenity misses you steering it, little albatross.”
This River normally ignores whoever speaks to her, looking off into nothing. But today, in this moment, her head snaps in Mal’s direction, her eyes focused on him, intense. [Mal is scared.]
He tries again:
“I was wondering why you don’t speak anymore.”
This River quirks her head to the right, her eyes still intense.
Mal is tired, and wants to sleep, but this River and her eyes are holding him there, awake. So:
“Is this about Miranda?”
This River blinks. The second time she blinks today, and it brings an excessive amount of tears to her eyes. Tears she lets fall, because they are not tears of sadness. Finally, River:
“How many people have you killed?”
It’s a whispered question, directed at Mal, and only at Mal. So he answers:
“Too many.”
She nods her head, and looks away, back to the ceiling. Mal thinks it’s progress, at least, and he’s ready to leave. Then:
“Can you ever hear them?”
Mal looks at her, surprised.
“Can you hear the ones you killed?” she asks, looking at him, again.
“Sometimes.”
This River smiles. It’s a wicked smile. “I can hear them all the time.”
Mal’s eyes widen, and he lets out a breath he’s been holding.
“I have to listen real careful, to hear them all. They want me to hear everything they have to say, every word of hate towards those who broke them and made them Reavers. They want me to hear them, so that they can finally leave. They’re not all dead, I only killed a few, but those who died want to be free and human again. I want to tell them to shut up, but their voices are powerful, and I can’t. I have to listen to all of them, every word, and then they’ll leave me alone.”
Mal doesn’t know what to say.
“They have a lot to tell me. Sometimes it’s about the people they killed, raped or eaten, and sometimes it’s about their old life. I have to listen real careful to every bit.”
“Is that why you won’t talk?”
“Talking requires concentration. Talking requires some quietness inside my brain. It’s too full in there, girl can’t talk till the bad guys have talked. They’re almost done…”
Mal looks at her, and then looks up at the ceiling. Then:
“How many are still left to tell you things?”
“Twenty-five.”
Mal wants to ask her just how many she killed, but he doesn’t. it brings back memories of River and bloodies axes, and many, many Reaver bodies on the floor. Instead:
“How many time will it take?”
“They decide…”
Mal remembers his days after the Serenity war, remember how he used to tell them all to leave him alone. He remembers how his heart screamed at them all to come back. Maybe they’ve underestimated this River. Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone, maybe she just needs someone who won’t talk much. She needs to hear them all, before she can be free again.
“Girl wants to be free of their voices. They speak too loudly, scream inside my brain. Want them to stop, but they won’t. I have to wait until they’re done, and it hurts.” Then: “I want to go somewhere shiny.”
Mal smiles, and leans his back on the catwalk’s bars. He pats River on the shoulder. “You let me know when they stop talking, and I’ll take you somewhere shiny.”
“Okay.”
“What’s best, I’ll let you take us somewhere shiny. Serenity misses you steering her.”
“Serenity needs love. Love can keep her flying. Captain’s love isn’t enough. People need to stop saying Serenity is a bunch of scraps. Serenity needs to be told she’s pretty, and not broken. Every girl needs that.”
Mal smiles, and pats the grates beneath him. River is right, they all need to be told they’re not broken. They need love, and company, and River hasn’t been getting much company. Only screams in her brain, shouts of dead demons. So Mal relaxes a bit more, and stays next to River.
He will keep her quiet company until the voices stop. Then he’ll take her somewhere shiny, somewhere she wants to go. Maybe he’ll put the pieces back together.
“Twenty four left,” River says after a few minutes, and Mal snaps out of his reverie.
He smiles, and places his hand on her shoulder. Then:
“You’ll be flying again soon, little albatross.”
--fini--
Rating: PG
Author: Cella [a.k.a
shortitude]Characters: Mal, River
Summary: "How many people have you killed?"
River is not there.
There’s a girl looking like River sitting on the floor of Serenity, looking out in space. The girl thinks she can fool the crew, making them think she’s River, but they know better.
Simon is worried, but then again, Simon is always worried. [except when he’s with Kaylee]
Kaylee, Inara, even Zoe try to talk to this River, but this River doesn’t listen to them. Jayne doesn’t bother, River never concerned him much. [except when there had been money, but that had been stupid, and lay forgotten now]
River sits on the catwalk, on her usual spot. She’s looking up at the ceiling, and ignoring everyone else. They don’t understand.
Simon thought once Miranda was over, River would go back to normal. But if anything, it’s gotten worse. River used to speak gibberish all day, and smile at the crew as if she knew something they didn’t. this River isn’t there. This River is quiet, and wants everyone to leave. This River doesn’t speak, and sometimes she forgets to even breathe.
Mal wants to know why.
So he goes to where this River is sitting, and sits down behind her. He’s trying to relax, and for a moment, he keeps quiet. Then:
“Serenity misses you steering it, little albatross.”
This River normally ignores whoever speaks to her, looking off into nothing. But today, in this moment, her head snaps in Mal’s direction, her eyes focused on him, intense. [Mal is scared.]
He tries again:
“I was wondering why you don’t speak anymore.”
This River quirks her head to the right, her eyes still intense.
Mal is tired, and wants to sleep, but this River and her eyes are holding him there, awake. So:
“Is this about Miranda?”
This River blinks. The second time she blinks today, and it brings an excessive amount of tears to her eyes. Tears she lets fall, because they are not tears of sadness. Finally, River:
“How many people have you killed?”
It’s a whispered question, directed at Mal, and only at Mal. So he answers:
“Too many.”
She nods her head, and looks away, back to the ceiling. Mal thinks it’s progress, at least, and he’s ready to leave. Then:
“Can you ever hear them?”
Mal looks at her, surprised.
“Can you hear the ones you killed?” she asks, looking at him, again.
“Sometimes.”
This River smiles. It’s a wicked smile. “I can hear them all the time.”
Mal’s eyes widen, and he lets out a breath he’s been holding.
“I have to listen real careful, to hear them all. They want me to hear everything they have to say, every word of hate towards those who broke them and made them Reavers. They want me to hear them, so that they can finally leave. They’re not all dead, I only killed a few, but those who died want to be free and human again. I want to tell them to shut up, but their voices are powerful, and I can’t. I have to listen to all of them, every word, and then they’ll leave me alone.”
Mal doesn’t know what to say.
“They have a lot to tell me. Sometimes it’s about the people they killed, raped or eaten, and sometimes it’s about their old life. I have to listen real careful to every bit.”
“Is that why you won’t talk?”
“Talking requires concentration. Talking requires some quietness inside my brain. It’s too full in there, girl can’t talk till the bad guys have talked. They’re almost done…”
Mal looks at her, and then looks up at the ceiling. Then:
“How many are still left to tell you things?”
“Twenty-five.”
Mal wants to ask her just how many she killed, but he doesn’t. it brings back memories of River and bloodies axes, and many, many Reaver bodies on the floor. Instead:
“How many time will it take?”
“They decide…”
Mal remembers his days after the Serenity war, remember how he used to tell them all to leave him alone. He remembers how his heart screamed at them all to come back. Maybe they’ve underestimated this River. Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone, maybe she just needs someone who won’t talk much. She needs to hear them all, before she can be free again.
“Girl wants to be free of their voices. They speak too loudly, scream inside my brain. Want them to stop, but they won’t. I have to wait until they’re done, and it hurts.” Then: “I want to go somewhere shiny.”
Mal smiles, and leans his back on the catwalk’s bars. He pats River on the shoulder. “You let me know when they stop talking, and I’ll take you somewhere shiny.”
“Okay.”
“What’s best, I’ll let you take us somewhere shiny. Serenity misses you steering her.”
“Serenity needs love. Love can keep her flying. Captain’s love isn’t enough. People need to stop saying Serenity is a bunch of scraps. Serenity needs to be told she’s pretty, and not broken. Every girl needs that.”
Mal smiles, and pats the grates beneath him. River is right, they all need to be told they’re not broken. They need love, and company, and River hasn’t been getting much company. Only screams in her brain, shouts of dead demons. So Mal relaxes a bit more, and stays next to River.
He will keep her quiet company until the voices stop. Then he’ll take her somewhere shiny, somewhere she wants to go. Maybe he’ll put the pieces back together.
“Twenty four left,” River says after a few minutes, and Mal snaps out of his reverie.
He smiles, and places his hand on her shoulder. Then:
“You’ll be flying again soon, little albatross.”
--fini--
