Both my first crossover and my first Firefly fic. Woo hoo for me. Anyways, this assumes that none of the comics or stories or anything else that was officially, canonically written after Serenity actually happened; they basically just go on as before for two years, when they take on a few passengers. Specifically, two young men... Hints of River/Sam, I guess, although I see them as just being besties. I own nothing.
The guy's almost Simon's age, but something about the way he ducks his head and smiles sweetly and looks at everyone from under his eyelashes and too-long hair makes him look like a kid.
His brother, on the other hand, is happily comparing guns with Jayne. Simon shakes his head in bemusement.
The kid - Sam, he remembers - walks over and stops a few feet away. Simon smiles at him.
"Hey there."
Sam smiles back, eyes hidden beneath his hair even though he's got quite a few inches on Simon. "Can I see the River now, please? We want to talk to her. Go swimming."
Simon's on his feet and yelling for Mal before Sam has finished speaking, and within seconds the calm dining room has devolved into chaos. Dean is yelling as Jayne dives across the table and tackles him, Zoe pulls her gun seemingly out of thin air, Mal comes rushing in, his own weapon ready, and Simon turns back to Sam, ready to restrain him if necessary.
Sam is on the floor. Or at least he's getting there, slowly sinking down into a crouch with his hands pressed over his ears. His eyes are open, but he's not watching them. He stares at nothing, and Simon raises a hand to still the others.
"Wait!"
Dean snarls. "You wait, you ruttin' piece of-"
Mal slams a hand over his mouth, and they all watch Sam, who's rocking back and forth, expression flickering between peace and terror.
"Dean will find me and we'll find the River," he whispers. "We'll find the River and she'll protect us."
Dean shakes off Mal's hand but not Jayne's grip, holding him back. "That's right, Sammy," he soothes. "The river will protect us. You know why?"
"Because the River flows into the sea and the sea melts into the sky," Sam says, voice quavering and lost. Looking for an anchor.
And just like that, she walks in, bare feet and flowing skirt and blinding smile. "And the sky goes on forever."
"And forever is where the River runs," Sam says, hands sinking down to the ground and eyes lighting up with something like awe as he pushes himself to his feet. He stops. "Do you exist?" he asks hesitantly. River nods.
"We all do, except him." She points to an empty corner of the room. "He doesn't belong here."
"I know that," Sam says. And then, before Simon has time to even blink, Sam is looming over his tiny little sister and folding her into his arms. She hugs him back, hard.
"I found you," Sam breathes. Tears slide down his face.
"You found me." Sam is at least a foot taller than her, but somehow she's the one holding him, practically cradling him.
They're all silent for a few moments before Dean speaks. "Wait, that river you're always talkin' about is a girl?"
Sam sits on the couch, and River kneels next to him, cupping his cheeks. He grips her wrists lightly, brushing his fingers up and down her arms like he's checking to make sure she's still there. She smiles and lets him, tucking his hair behind his ears before she goes back to stroking his face tenderly.
"I want to build a boat," Sam whispers.
"What will you build a boat out of?" she asks, voice just as soft. He closes his eyes, smiling beatifically.
"I'll take apart the sky and use the stars as nails to hold it together."
"And where will you sail?" she asks, tracing the shape of his eyebrow.
"On the River, down the River, with the River, to the River," he sing-songs, eyes still closed as he leans into her touch. "The River keeps us safe forever."
She grins and pulls his head down to press her lips against his brow. "I will, Sam," she murmurs against his skin. "I promise."
Sitting at the table, the crew looks at them for a moment before resuming their murmured conversation, glancing back at the two every so often. Simon grips Dean's shoulder, and Dean nods, understanding and being understood for the first time in far too long.
River and Sam continue to whisper to each other.
"Sam was the first. They were still learning then, and they made mistakes. They weren't very good at what they did. They messed up, and they broke him. They broke everyone. Put them back together with staples and glue and started all over. Except Sam. They took River and shattered her and glued some pieces back together and threw away other pieces that they didn't like. Sam was pulverized. They dropped him and he broke and they didn't even try to put him back together, just kept breaking until there was only dust left. They swept up the dust and they should have let it go, but dust would clog their eyes and ears and throats and broken pieces only cut but dust kills. They put it in a pretty glass jar, instead. Look, don't touch. Unless no one else looks, then touch and taste all you want. Sam won't say, Sam knows better, nice, quiet Sam."
River trails off, hugs her knees to her chest. "That's what happened."
Dean's head is buried in his hands, elbows resting on the edge of Sam's bed. "He was twelve," he whispers.
Sam curls a little closer to Dean, smiling in his sleep. "River," he murmurs. "Dean."
"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean says softly. But Sam just keeps repeating their names like a mantra.
"Dean." Inhale. "River." Exhale. "Dean." Inhale. "River." Exhale.
"We're just air, Dean," River says. "And Sam is breathing."
He smiles at her, almost. "I'm okay with being Sam's air."
She nods slowly. "I think I am, too."
Sam likes Inara. She's beautiful and delicate with a strength that doesn't match her size and a happiness that doesn't match her life, and she always smiles at him. He can't speak to her, of course, because she's so far above him, but he takes to watching her silently and feeling pleased that he's allowed that much, to look upon something so lovely. He doesn't deserve it, but no one except River knows that, and she keeps his secrets, washes them away in her current.
He's thinking when it happens. He does that a lot. Thinks, that is. Sits quietly and ponders anything and sometimes everything, which is always too much. But he's really thinking of Inara, because he's watching her brush her hair. He's sitting on the floor just outside her shuttle, and she left the door open so it's smiles at him in the mirror. "Hello, Sam."He blushes and ducks his head. "Hi."
"Would you mind getting the back for me? I can't quite reach."
He stands up slowly, hesitating a moment before he enters, bare feet silent. He takes the brush from her and gently runs in through her hair, and it's so soft and smooth that he wants to just wrap himself in it and live there forever. Inara keeps smiling, and when he smiles shyly back at her in the mirror, she blinks away tears.
Zoe is calm in the midst of the insanity in Sam and outside (although sometimes the crazy slips out of him and then the inside is outside of him). The eye of the storm, because life on Serenity is not peaceful. It's controlled, maybe, and the routines comfort him the way structure at the Academy never did, but it's not peaceful. It's exhilarating, and it exhausts him. He spends a lot of time sleeping, but sometimes even sleeping isn't enough and he stresses himself out too much to sleep. When that happens, he goes to find Zoe.
Whatever she's doing - taking inventory, talking to Mal, polishing her gun, holding a plastic dinosaur to her chest and silently screaming - she'll stop for a second, give Sam a searching look, and then go back to it. She lets Sam creep closer and sit at her feet, or stand next to her, or stretch out on the couch with the top of his head just barely brushing her hip. Everything about Zoe is carefully put together, every piece weighed and considered before she touches it, and Sam appreciates that someone, at least, is succeeding at keeping themselves in one piece, especially when he can hear her heart screaming at times.
He slinks into her room one day - he didn't knock, but he would know if he wasn't supposed to go in - to see her crying, arms wrapped around her stomach as she shakes silently. Sam is terrified (if she shakes too hard she'll fall apart) so he holds her together by wrapping his arms around her and tucking her against his chest like Dean does for him on the bad days and River does on the good days. She cries, and he doesn't say anything. Neither does she, ever, but he finds one of her precious dinosaurs in his room later. He picks it up and catches a glimpse of a smile and the echo of a laugh, and he comes close to understanding.
Jayne is hard to be around. He eyes Sam like he wants to hurt him one minute, completely ignores him the next, and then the one after that he teases him like they're best friends. Sam is confused, and the confusion scares him, so he avoids the hired gun.
He's counting his own breaths when he hears Jayne in the next room, sounding annoyed. "Why's the moonbrain avoiding me? I'm trying my gorram best to be friendly."
"Maybe because you look at him like you think he's about to go ballistic any second?" River's Simon suggests drily. "Sam's smart, Jayne. He can tell you don't trust him."
"It's like that sister of yours all over again," Jayne mutters. "I can't deal with kids, especially..." Sam hears the metal creak beneath Jayne as the man shifts his weight. "I can barely look him in the eye, Doc. The things he's seen, and then you can see it when he looks at you..."
Sam stops avoiding Jayne after that.
Kaylee finds him in the engine room, watching the engine turn with his eyes narrowed. She checks on the threshold, and he points at the engine, finger moving up and down to track the piece as it spins around.
"That's broken. You should fix it."
Kaylee laughs and holds up the replacement part. "I was just going to do that. You wanna help?"
He does, and then they play jacks.
Sam talks to Lucifer on days when he's lonely, because sometimes Lucifer hurts him and sometimes he doesn't, but at least he's always there. Sometimes Lucifer squeezes his brain, but other times they'll play card games together. That's what they're doing while River's Simon watches.
"It's called Go Fish," Sam says suddenly. Lucifer scowls and hands over a three of clubs, and Sam tucks it in which his cards and glances up at River's Simon. "It's an old game, from Earth-That-Was."
"Huh." River's Simon sits down on the floor on Sam's right, legs crisscross-applesauce. "How do you play?"
Sam furrows his brow. "You know the cars aren't really here, right? They're in my head. I can play with the things inside my head, and the River can, too, but not you. You're not allowed."
He expects a doctor-y question (So you can tell they're not real? Why do you play with them, then? How long can you go without screaming?), but that's not what he gets. "How about I get a real pack of cards and you show me with those?"
Sam hesitates, and Lucifer absently sets the cards on fire. Sam tosses his cards into the flames and stands up. "Okay."
River's Simon catches on fast.
Mal is more complicated than any one person has any right to be. His thoughts twist and turn and dart away too fast for Sam to grab them and understand and, frustrated, he settles for trying to understand him the way normal people do, reading minds like books with all the pages torn out. River smiles sadly and pats his hand when she knows how upset he is, and he shrugs and sits next to Dean at the dinner table.
Later, he finds Mal in the kitchen, drinking golden liquid from a brown bottle. "Couldn't sleep?" the captain asks, and Sam frowns.
"Should I be?"
"Everyone else is."
"You're not."
"I'm not everyone."
"No one is everyone," Sam retorts. "Can I have some?"
"I think Dean might kill me."
Sam shakes his head. "No, he wouldn't. Not for letting me drink. I'll tell him I exerted mind control on you." Mal snorts. "Besides, I'm twenty-two."
"Drinking age on just about every planet," Mal murmurs. "I wouldn't have guessed."
"It's because only my body is twenty-two," Sam explains.
"Yeah? How old's the rest of you."
Sam only smiles, and Mal pours him a drink.
Dean is sitting on the couch, absently fiddling with his dad's old knife, when Sam walks in.
Dean leaps to his feet immediately, because something is wrong. "Hey, Sam," he says softly, and Sam flinches, covering his ears. Dean's heart sinks. It's a bad day, then. "What's goin' on, kiddo?"
"Two by two," Sam mumbles. "Hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue." He looks around the room anxiously as though expecting his torturers to appear out of nowhere, his shoulders hunched. "Dean will find me," he whispers, stumbling over to the table. Dean winces in sympathy when his brother accidentally slams his hip into the corner, but Sam doesn't react. "Dean will find me. Dean will find me. Dean will find me."
"Sammy," Dean says, moving so that Sam could see him, if he would only open his eyes. "I found you. Remember? Dean found you."
Sam shakes his head. "Dean. River. Dean. River. Dean makes it good, River makes me good. Dean will find me and we'll find the River; we'll find the River and the River will protect us," he says, and almost chants the next words. "Because the River flows into the sea and the sea melts into the sky and the sky goes on forever."
"And forever is where the river runs," Dean finishes quietly. "That's right, Sammy. You okay now?"
Sam cracks one eye open. "Dean. You found me?"
"Yeah, I did. And we found that river of yours, too. Remember? I found you and we found the river."
"Where are we now?" Sam asks slowly, looking around now and slowly, cautiously, opening up again.
"We're on a ship. Serenity. We're on a ship in the sky, Sam."
"The forever sky," Sam breathes, eyes lighting up. "With the River?"
"Yeah, Sammy. With the River."