Self Imprisonment
By Katia-chan
A/N: This was written for the Firefly100 community on livejournal, for the prompt "trap." It's my first journey into the land of Firefly fanfic, so I hope it turned out alright. This is the first time in a while I've broken out of my main fandom, so. . . yeah. Reviews and feedback would be exceedingly wonderful and helpful.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Enjoy!
XXX
She tries to remember when her home started to feel like a tomb.
Serenity has been her home for as far back as she cares to remember. She was almost always happy here, and the ship took good care of her, and it loved her. So she gave it her heart, and all the memories that came before it, and she loved it back. Maybe not as much as Mal did, but the idea was the same.
So, as she sits in the chair that used to be his, fingers lightly tracing over buttons and levers, the sudden fury she feels, rage that makes her want to put her hand right through that screen, doesn't make rational sense to her. But she can't breathe here anymore, and she knows that even being ripped apart in that black icy void would have to be better than this. Better than having it happen here, at home, just so much slower.
It's instinct that hears the footsteps behind her; instinct that arranges her face into a passable mask of calm, though instinct doesn't seem to be enough to unclench her hands from the controls.
"Doesn't look to me as if you're doing much driving in here." Mal stands behind her, arms folded, looking her over with that too knowing look she's given him on many occasions.
"No," she agrees, not turning to look at him. She can feel him studying her from behind, but he doesn't come around to stand beside her.
"Then I suggest," he says, with that tone that says it's not a suggestion, "That you evict yourself from that chair, and go check the cargo. Aint gonna be long 'til we're settin down, and I'll be needin you to make a supply run."
It takes her a split second too long to obey, and the set of her shoulders tells him plainly that she'd just as soon hit him and be done with it. But even though he can see that wild-eyed look she's been getting lately, he doesn't back down, and eventually she stands up, giving him a mostly respectful nod as she leaves the bridge in silence.
He knows she's been feeling trapped; he can see it in her face, plain as day. But he hopes that, someday, she'll realize a place can only trap you if you don't ever leave it.
The freedom comes with the choosing.
TTFN