Title: The Trigger

Summary: River has to fight her own mind for her life.

A/N: PRE-Mal/River Romance. POST movie. Not associated with any of my other Firefly stories. I feel a little uncomfortable posting this as a)I'm worried it's over-done in the angst area and b)as some of my favorite M/R authors have just posted these fabulous funner things recently.

Disclaimer: These characters, etc belong to Joss Whedon... or a company, but not me.
Warning: A bit more violent than normal. There's some blood.

Room 231

Mal had earned his sleep. Walking into his room at the Inn, he didn't bother to turn on the lights as he shed his shirt and gun belt. Jobs liberating towns from ruffians, or transporting cargo, legal or otherwise - he could handle that stuff easy enough. But a wedding, a fugitive wedding at that; Too much energy keeping everything shiny. Mal's eyes were already half closed as he dragged his boots from his feet. Not that it had been too hard. Kaylee had been the fluffliest, shinest bride that ever walked down an aisle. Near the entire town had shown up to share food and wine and dance. Kaylee's family had been unconditionally welcoming even though they hadn't been allowed the name of the man they were welcoming until the week of the wedding.

Mal pulled at the covers and collapsed onto the mattress, only managing to drag the covers partially back over him. The only mark on the evening was Kaylee's woe that Simon's parents had ignored the invitation she'd secretly sent. But after a speechless moment, Simon had recovered (and performed) admirably. Mal didn't think anyone else realized that there was anger mixed with his shock. River had merely blinked thoughtfully and placed a reassuring hand on Simon's arm. It had become second nature to Mal to test the mood of a situation against her demeanor. And River hadn't seemed affected at all. In fact, she'd been something to see. He'd never seen joy on her face before. She'd glowed with it as she'd stood at the ceremony; might as well have been painted with it as she danced every song of the night like some sort of fairy girl.

Mal had spent the festivities at a corner table with Inara while people routinely stared and walked slowly by. Inara had fascinated the townsfolk with her fine clothes and beautiful face. But it was River who charmed them. She'd waltzed with old men and expertly whirled with the boys. She'd taught Jayne the foxtrot and, much to Mal's chagrin had taken his arm in a simple two-step. River had even coaxed Zoe out on the floor for a tango aimed to make her laugh.

When Zoe had returned, she'd exchanged notes with Inara. They were so busy pecking on like maternal hens both agreeing that River's conduct was a good sign that they hadn't notice River's smile falter as she glanced in their direction. But Mal had. He'd sent her a calm, reassuring nod before he'd snapped at the other two to stop analyzing the girl and let her be. Inara had fallen into silence sometime after that and Mal got that feeling in his chest that she was unhappy about something. Never did figure what. Time had passed that he was going to pull it out of her like a rotten tooth.

After a rather slurred speech of gratitude from Simon and three hugs to each guest from Kaylee, the happy couple had said their goodbyes and in due time people started to disperse. Some alone... some not. Mal sat watch until all his crew retired - finally having to nod meaningfully at River to make her way to the door as it was passed time for sleep.

They'd left together, in companionable quiet. When he'd paused with her at her door she'd been staring off into space in that unnerving way she did. It made the hair on his neck stand on end. But when he'd asked what was wrong she'd shaken her head as if confused and walked into her room.

Now, on the verge of sleep, Mal couldn't get comfortable. Something was bothering him. River was bothering him. He cursed half-heartedly, he couldn't get all agitated every time the girl was in a mood. She was probably just dreaming about one of the boys she danced with, or maybe she'd just stubbed her toe - how was he supposed to know? Everyone had moods. Hell, he was in right at this very moment. With a resigned sigh Mal reached down and took his gun from it's holster on the floor and lay it on the night stand... no harm in being cautious.


Room 206

River saw it take shape in her dream's eye but could do nothing now to stop it. She had seen the clouds gather months ago when the thought had been in Kaylee's heart. The thought to contact her future in-laws; River's parents. Warning; but the feeling had been small and mixed with something like relief. River hadn't wanted to discourage her new sister with the small nagging worry... and a part of her wondered if the relief meant some sort of reconciliation for the Tam family. But whatever was to come, River couldn't believe her parents would willingly betray their children. Naive River.

And now, too late. She could pinpoint now when and who had planted it: the command in her brain, the words so innocently spoken to trigger her as he'd walked her off the dance floor. She hadn't heard them, which should have alerted her as odd - he'd spoken directly in her ear. But then, she'd been too distracted by delight and music... distractions... always dangerous. Like her.

By the time she woke, she could barely think through the command. Incapacitated. So simple, such a stupid girl to be brought down so easily. She'd come to him full of herself, and had left before she'd been broke. She was a failed project. Damaged and unpredictable... someone needed to put her down.

No! Though it took all of her strength and concentration River reached passed the trigger and stumbled out of her room. Feverishly she sought the facts she needed from her brain. Not on Serenity. Not Simon; not Kaylee. There was only... Inara. Jayne. Zoe. Mal. Mal; strong enough to stop her, smart enough to hear. He was her only chance.

River just had to find him before the Weapon in her won.

She concentrated on the mirror at the end of the hall - transfixed by her own image as it grew with every step she made. Was it River in the mirror or the Weapon? Could she tell? I've staked my crew's life on the notion that you're a person, actual and whole. He'd be disappointed. And he couldn't really help. She was just setting him up for danger again...failure and pain, that is what she brought to him...to everyone...

River stared into her own eyes only inches from their dark reflection - the Weapon had the key after all... The Weapon was conscious when River was not... the Weapon would have been able to pluck the safe word right from their minds. Mal would expect River to find it. He'd expect her to be stronger than the messages that were tangling with her thoughts. She wanted to be able to live up to his trust. They all had trusted her, for so long, because he had. And now - it would all be ruined. Back to square one, back to isolation and fear - might as well end it. She put her fist into the mirror.

No use to anyone - no use to Mal... River squeezed her eyes shut - fought the message and tried to outsmart the Weapon. She didn't have a lot of time. With surpreme effort River dropped the sharp thing in her hand before it could go too deep and stepped over the glass she didn't remember shattering. Tracing her hands along the wall she picked up the Captain's trail and followed him to his room.

Room 231

Mal was accustomed to listening for signs of trouble in his sleep. So he heard the scratching against the lock even through his dreams. And even without his tracker skills honed by the war, he would have heard what happened next: three sharp bangs as the door flew open, hit the wall and slammed shut again.

Mal slid off the old inn's bed as he grabbed his gun in one fluid movement. Still, he hadn't quite straightened when she'd reached him; Disarmed him and tripped him so that he fell to the floor. Only one person moved like that. He only had time to grunt, "River?" before the slight but dangerous weight of her straddled him, pinning him down.

River leaned over him, sweat darkening the cotton slip she had worn to bed. Something darker stained her arms, spread even as Mal's mind was whirling to make sense of her behavior, "River, what the hell-"

"Shh," Mal raised his eyebrows but closed his mouth on his next sentence, "Listen... carefully... They triggered her mind...- but she's actual and whole. Please help...before I succeed. Stupid, insipid girl - " River shook her head, seemed to try again, "The old words won't work. Only the Weapon had the right words. River is the Weapon. River found the words."

Mal felt a sick sense of dread begin to crawl through his insides. Trigger... it was a contingency he'd worried over since Beaumonde. His own words - actual and whole. Help. Ok. How?

River concentrated on Mal's mind - his sane mind with no gorram murderous triggers in it and somehow she got out the rest, trying to use the right combination of words that would come together in his mind, "Safety in the mirror... Saw herself in the key- and didn't have any paper." River's voice cracked somewhere between a laugh and a sob, "Etched it in her skin - safe words for you to say.. Only you - I've created so much trouble for you, I'm so sorry..." The trigger in River's mind had found it's hold: Guilt. The avalanche took her under with it.

She took her hands off of him and cradled her head instead, relaxed so that his arms were no longer pinned. Mal moved as if he was handling an explosive - he squinted at the blood on her wrists still dripping from cuts that he guessed now were self-inflicted. Gently, he freed his arms from his sides and tried to push himself up to a sitting position without spooking her. He didn't like the look that had come into her eye, "River, honey - take it slow."

His movement unsteadied her and she slid partially off of him, "All my fault. I chose the school - so pretentious - so short sighted. I killed, just to live - selfish, selfish selfish! Blood on my hands. I've got to make it right Captain..."

"That was a long time ago, River, don't -" His mind had hardly grasped that her hand was hovering over his fallen weapon when somehow he understood her intent. Mal responded on reflex, "No!"

Mal would never have reached the gun in time if she hadn't still been partially tangled up in him. When he lunged for her, he trapped one of her legs with his, which threw off her aim. The bullet buried itself into the wardobe. Ruthlessly, he grabbed for the gun, managed to knock it out of her grasp only when she was busy punching his kidney. She was already scrambling to go after it when he stopped her the only way he could think of - he dropped his entire weight on her, crushing her to the floor.

She wrestled frantically under him and Mal knew, despite his weight advantage, if this was River the Weapon, he only had moments. Three times he tried the original safe word Simon had been taught. It made no difference at all, except, possibly, to make her angrier. Out of breath, he tried to reach his pilot, "You've been triggered- someone triggered self-destruct in your mind. I understand. I hear you. How do I stop it? Tell me how to stop it."

She stopped squirming and looked into his eyes, suddenly vulnerable; He could have sworn - herself, "Put a bullet in her."

Mal cursed violently and grabbed her wrist as it shot out toward the gun and the other as it snaked towards his, "NO! You listen to me now. You listen. The old safe words don't work. You're saying theres' new words?"

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live..."

"Those aren't them, darlin'" Frustrated, Mal took her wrists and slammed them against the floor, "Focus, River! Use that brain of yours and fight them!"

"Not them... him. He knew she wouldn't see it - caught up in her stupid brother and his trollop. She shouldn't have left. He only wants what's best for her... she should have served him on her knees - she was beautiful and innocent and she belongs to him-"

"Okay, shut up! Shut up!" The fresh blood made it impossible to keep a good grip on her wrists, "Tell me the gorram safe word."

River bucked under him, gave him a look of total exasperation that Mal knew without a shadow of a doubt was all River, "Trying to tell you.. Right in front of you. Can't say it ... myself..."

"Right... Ok... right in front of me. You etched it... On... your..." Mal muttered a chinese curse as he fought to keep his grip on her wrists,"skin, but..." Mal looked closer at her wounds and could just make out rudimentary chinese characters - but the blood had smeared and confused the lines. Steeling himself against the unpleasant task he used his thumbs to wipe away blood from each character until he could discern it.

River muttered under her breath, desperately trying to slow down her reflex to fight by cataloguing her every possible move in her mind in minute detail.

Distracted, Mal looked into her face, "Should I be listening to you?"

"No. Fighting the urge to kill you," She said, strain in her voice. Her face had turned from white to gray and Mal realized she was using every ounce of willpower left to keep from letting herself escape his tenuous grip.

"Oh. That's my girl. Steady... uh - " It took him a few tries - different tenses and combinations until finally the phrase made sense. The result was immediate. She relaxed completely, staring unseeing at the wall like the dead.

For a moment - just a moment Mal was afraid he'd been tricked into helping the wrong cause... Mal held his breath - realized he could feel her heart beating against his bare chest - and let out a sigh as it slowed, but kept steady.

A minute went by... then another. Carefully, inch by inch, Mal lifted himself off of her, ready to pounce in case she was playing possum. But she didn't move. Mal retrieved his gun and pulled on his shirt before sitting heavily on the bed. He rubbed the back of his head with his hands, watching her breathe. Unconsciously his breath slowed in rhythm with hers.

He had no idea how long River would stay in this state. Wearily, Mal got up to the vanity and poured water into the washbowl, carried it and a rag to the side of the bed. Then, gently, he scooped River from the floor and laid her on his bed. Taking his time, Mal cleaned the excess blood. Only a few of the cuts from her right arm were so deep that they were still bleeding so Mal used a clean handkerchief to apply pressure and dress the wound.

Mal ran down his options. He should call Simon, alert him to his sister's situation. But she was hardly in immediate medical danger and Kaylee might just kill him. Besides that, Mal needed to get to the bottom of this before the pleasantries of notifying kin could be dealt with.

Years the Tams had been on his boat and not once had they been found without inside help. After Miranda, there were enough Alliance that most likely knew where the Tams had found shelter - it hardly seemed likely that they would have waited til now to make a move. Besides - the stuff River had been saying pointed to a far more personal adversary than the government.

It's not like he'd thought everything was going to be rosy with River once she'd purged Miranda's secret. Just because she'd seized her sanity back with almost violent determination didn't mean Mal was just going to turn a blind eye to the obvious dangers lurking in her mind; At his insistence she'd spent months working out how to neutralize the killing trigger they'd witnessed in Beaumonde. But beyond that, what could he have done? He couldn't be lookin' around corners for all the old enemies of his crew to pop up. Jayne's share alone would eat up his time and energy times three.

He was so busy thinking, it took him a minute to realize River had been watching him at his work. Mal brushed her hair away from her face, "You okay?" River nodded, "Feeling suicidal or homicidal or anything like that?"

River gave him a dry look, and shook her head.

"Is anyone else in danger?" Mal asked - needing to know if he should gather everyone together.

River cocked her head to the side before answering, "No."

"Ok," Mal relaxed by a large margin, "Do you remember... how this happened?"

River looked at him, "I remember everything," and pushed herself up to a sitting position.

Mal didn't move, not at the moment caring about how close they were on his bed, "Then it's best you start from the beginning, darlin'."

to be continued...