This story is on the same timeline as my other two stories "On Birds in the Black" and "Tea Party", though it isn't a sequel. I wanted to explore the crew's relationships, as well as get a feel for Simon and River's life pre-Academy.
Review and let me know what you think!
River Tam was good at just about everything.
She could read Shakespeare when most children were learning their letters and composed eloquent letters of her own before she was tall enough to reach their mailbox. She was the best dancer in her dance class before her feet were big enough for dance shoes and could play the piano as though she wasn't trying ("It's just like math" she told a bemused, tone-deaf Simon). She corrected his math homework and designed her own science experiments in secret when bored at school.
Simon could only think of two things his sister had ever been bad at. She was bad at fitting the mold their parents made for them, and she was bad at eating.
The eating wasn't too bad at first. She'd be so absorbed in what she was doing that "I forgot, Simon. It's no big deal, you boob" or she'd get bored at those elaborate dinner parties and feign "an important project" or do something just shameful enough to get banished.
Simon fretted when she missed meals, which happened more often as River's boredom increased. He thought that their mother did too, but when Father banished River to the uninteresting spare room without meals to "think about her behavior" after a particularly trying incident involving the velocity of the crystal chandelier and two or three banana peels, their mother said nothing. His parents might have been delighted to have such a "gift" in their prodigy of a daughter, but they had no idea how to manage her.
Father said she'd be let out when she got some sense into her. His mother said to listen to his father. Simon listened to no one and after two days started sneaking her crackers under the door, pleading with her not to try Father's patience. She agreed, if nothing else but to keep from going mad in the small, dull space. After that, she behaved more manageably, dancing more and sneaking math problems into the dinner parties. But the eating didn't get better. Their father was swift to use missed meals as punishment for any "shameful behavior" (even things as slight as talking out of turn) and River acted indifferent to meals to make herself untouchable.
Simon could feel his parent's relief when River was accepted to the Academy. At last, they could do away with her trying behavior. She'd be their perfect little prodigy but far enough away to keep from getting underfoot.
Simon hugged her goodbye at the train station, handing her the lunch the servant had packed. "Here's your lunch. Eat it on the train, and don't skip meals at school!" he told her sternly.
She giggled. "You worry too much," and smiled at him. She looked so excited, but also so young, and he hugged her one more time. Their parents looked on impatiently, but he wasn't going to let them ruin his goodbye.
"No, I worry just enough," he whispered into her ear. He released her, trying to lighten the mood. "Now, promise me you won't be too busy being brilliant to write your poor, stupid brother."
"Right. My poor, stupid brother. We'd hoped he'd do such great things. It's the talk of the town, you know, that he's only a trauma surgeon in Capitol City. Poor boy. What could have been done?"
"Brat," he replied affectionately.
"Status quo." She turned to board the train then, and then turned back to look at him. "Simon?"
"Yeah?"
"I promise."
Little did he know how well she'd keep that promise. And when he half-carried, half-dragged the shard of a sister he was given back three years later and held her hand while she slept, he couldn't help but blink back tears at how damaged she was, how thin she had become. If he had known his parent's neglectful starving could have so easily been put to shame, he would have never let her go on that platform.
They went back to the beginning then. Her stomach was no longer adjusted to food, and they had to start small. First he brought her food and made her eat. Later, she joined them at the table. Even then she would get distracted, staring at the ceiling or mumbling to himself, and it was hard work watching her and counting each bite she took, trying to figure out whether to push for another or let her go. Eventually the crew warmed up to them, and he could count on the other members at the table to keep an eye on his sister. Wash would engage her in a cracker-eating competition in the Bridge, and between Kaylee's sweet pleading and Zoë's no-nonsense logic, someone could usually get an extra spoonful of protein or another piece of bread on River's plate.
So his mei-mei put some weight back on, and seemed to have slightly more energy. It lifted his spirits, but he truly didn't realize how much until that morning River didn't come up for breakfast.