*Disclaimer* I do not own Firefly, Serenity, or anything in the 'verse. I am just a poor student who is borrowing them for a little while.
A.N. Spoilers for Serenity contained within. If you don't wish to know what happens go no further. This is just a one shot that wouldn't let go and is outside my usual genre preference. Posting this without my beta so all mistakes belong to me.
Mal slowly walked up the gangway of his newly repaired and beloved ship Serenity, contemplating the chaos that had been the past few days. What had started as a simple job had blown up into a full blown Alliance conspiracy leaving dozens of allies butchered, two crew members murdered, and he was left standing amidst the battered survivors wondering why. How could anyone justify the destruction of the past week and still look themselves in the mirror?
Mal slowly surveyed the scene that surrounded him. Simon had already returned to the med bay and was painstakingly cleaning his already sterile infirmary. Jayne had made a beeline for the weights and was completing his first set of reps, minus the spotter who had featured so prominently in their sessions. Inara had retreated to her shuttle, tears lines still marking her face, hoping to find the peace she sought through meditation.
Outside, Zoe and River preferred to wait at the gravesites a little longer, each silent in their own grief and guilt over the recent events. Yes, Mal thought, his crew was alive but they were anything but whole. The recently completed memorial service for Wash, Mr. Universe, and Shepherd Book had driven that point home all too clearly.
Ten minutes later the two women quietly returned to the ship, River heading off to prep for departure swiftly growing, partially out of need and partially due to the little genius' scary ability for taking on new skill, into her new role as pilot. Zoe, for her part, followed behind the young gir,l apparently supervising her efforts, or perhaps seeking comfort being near the girl her husband had adopted as a sister. Not that Mal minded Zoe's recent desire to attending the young girl. No matter how much progress their lil' albatross may have made recently, no one was overly comfortable with her being alone on the bridge just yet, pilot or not.
Realising his ship was in good hands Mal went to the crew's living quarters and sat down on the couch to brood. No matter what he tried, even in light of all the horror he had experienced since, he found himself haunted by Shepherd's last minutes.
The arrival on Haven, the frantic search, Kaylee's shock at finding the bodies of recently dead friends, the instinctual gut feeling that they were too late for Book, it all played back like a film in vivid colour. Mal still couldn't believe it. They had come so far, so close, only for him to watch his crew member, his friend/mentor (however you'd mark their relationship Mal honestly wasn't sure), die in his arms.
It was Book's last words that stuck in his head the clearest, that replayed throughout his days, and haunted his dreams.
"I don't care what you believe. Just believe it."
The Shepherd had been so passionate that Mal find something to believe in, something to fight for, maybe even, dare he say it, something to hope for, Mal found himself unable, or maybe unwilling to let them go.
Suddenly, Mal's mind returned to a hot, hazy afternoon back on Shadow. It was a time before Serenity Valley and her betrayals, before war, capture and all its pain. It was a time when he didn't just believe in something, it was a time when he had faith, when he was innocent, a different life.
14 year old Malcolm Reynolds sat on the steps of their town's small church, fiddling with his necklace and sighing softly to himself.
It was a hot Sunday in July and service had ended almost a half hour ago. Malcolm, or Mal as his Ma's farmhands had recently dubbed him, was patiently waiting for her to finish her weekly chat with the other wives. It wasn't like he begrudged her the time or anything. Mal was keenly aware that his Ma worked hard: running the ranch, managing the hands, taking care of the herds, and raising him, all as a young widow on a ranch. When you added the distance of their land to all those responsibilities Sunday service was her only non-ranch related social time of the week.
Mal's Pa had died when he was three. He had been leading the fall cattle drive, preparing to round up the section of herd being sent off to market, when a stampede broke out of nowhere. By the time the doc had made it out to their ranch, his broken body had given up, and he was gone. Eleven years later, all Mal had left of his dad were stories, his unruly hair, and the crucifix necklace he now wore around his own neck.
In light of all that, Mal knew his Ma appreciated the chance to be around other people who thought like her and faced similar problems regarding ranching business or raising kids. Not that he considered raising a 14 year old boy that much trouble, he thought with a smirk.
Most of the conversations these days weren't all that pleasant anyway, hence his preference for sitting on the steps out of everyone's way, munching on an apple he had snuck in from home. Even out here on Shadow, people were starting to feel the pressure of the Alliance and its call for conformity. Most people figured they were less than a decade away from war, if they were lucky.
People on Shadow didn't consider themselves very lucky.
Mal loved his Ma though, and so, sat patiently on the church steps, in his uncomfortable Sunday best, waiting for her to finish, and release him to an afternoon of riding and swimming. Mal grinned at the thought of that cool water and his recently crafted rope swing. Now that was a way to spend a summer afternoon.
All of a sudden, out of the corner of his eye, Mal spotted a stranger wandering along the edge of the building. The man seemed both starkly out of place and unremarkable all at the same time. For a bored teen, the mystery was too much, the stranger captured Mal's full attention and Mal was determined to find out the stranger's purpose.
"Ya know you missed the service, right?"
"Excuse me?" a small shift in the man's eyes being the only sign that this conversation was both unplanned and unwelcome.
"If you was looking about to go to service, we already finished. Nearly half hour back now." Mal looked at the stranger appraisingly. The man looked about twice Mal's age with curly black hair, dark skin, and a knowing gaze, this was a man who took in all of his surroundings. Mal could also tell, by watching the older man move, that he was strong, well trained, and worked hard to maintain his physicality. This was definitely not the type of man you saw round these parts. Could he be Alliance, Mal wondered to himself? He had heard of agents sent to recover the many fugitives who now preferred to seek safety on the rim.
"Do I look like the church-going, believing type to you?" the man responded pointedly.
"Everybody believes something Mister . . . Umm didn't catch your name there" Mal knew the man hadn't offered a name, which in his mind was just rude, but figured you won't get nothing if ya don't try.
"Didn't give one, don't need one and I don't believe in anything." The stranger looked down at Mal with a hint of disdain.
"Now that's just stupid, everybody believes in something"
"And who pray tell told you that bit of folk wisdom"
"Round here we call it common sense. You must be from a core planet, we hear you're a bit lacking in that department" Mal grinned disarmingly and continued "I mean look at you right now. You're standing here on our rather dry and dusty ground, grumpy as anythin' but you believe the ground will hold ya weight, you're talkin' to me, not very intelligent stuff mind you, but you believe your voice will hold, ya words will come out, and those words have meanin to someone and I've already figured that out after only 30 seconds."
The stranger raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"You believe a lot of things. Me, I believe that there's more to life than just this life and somebody bigger's got it planned out, looking at the world and the evidence that fills it, just makes sense to believe."
"You mean in God?" The stranger sneered
"For me, yeah I do"
"Well if you're so certain that there is some omnipotent, omniscient God out there, how do you explain death, destruction, war, violence." The stranger gestured wildly towards Mal's Ma and her friends "people in these parts seem fairly convinced there will be a war in their lifetime. Is that in your God's plan?"
"Naw, God I know is about relationships and love but."
The stranger interrupted "Isn't this the same God that wrecks vengeance on the people who don't follow him, who allows people to perish, who punishes without mercy"
"Nope." Mal said fighting the urge to laugh, this guy was great to debate with even if he did have funny ideas "No mercy means he wouldn't have sent his son to die for us. No mercy means no chance to be redeemed. Way I figure it, we all can choose to do our own stuff, the whole, now how does Ma put it again?"
Mal scratched his hair and cocked his head
"Oh yeah the whole free will debate. We have the ability to make choices cause God didn't need no robots following him. He wanted relationships. For a relationship to be real both people need to be willing. Just look at all the people round here My best friend is Lucas Johnson, he ain't here this week cause he got the chicken pox from his sister Rachel. Not that you care. But we're friends cause we both chose and we both work on the relationship. There's other kids round here I'm 'friends' with cause my Ma knows their folks but, to be honest, I don't really get along with 'em. There ain't nothing to the friendship except duty and making Ma happy, it ain't real. So, getting back to our point, our choices can have consequences. As for the whole punishment thing, it seems to me that it's more like discipline than punishment, punishment means revenge. A good parent disciplines their kid cause they love him and want them to grow and be safe, I mean look at the Nelsons and the Reddicks."
"And who, pray tell, are the Nelson's and the Reddicks?"
The man couldn't believe he was actually encouraging the conversation. He had a job to do, a fugitive to track down. There was something about this boy that intrigued him, which drew him into the boy's world. He wanted to hear why this boy was so passionate.
He wasn't afraid of being compromised his appearance changed often enough that the likelihood of being recognised was minimal, so were the odds of the two ever coming into contact again to be honest. The man was almost sad to know that their interactions would be limited to this one day. The boy had the potential to be a force, either as friend or foe, and the opportunity to watch him go from boy to man would be fascinating. Breaking his train of thought, the stranger turned back to the boy in question.
"Nelson kids are my neighbours, we get into all sorts of trouble together when we can seeing as its only two hours by horseback to their place. Anyways, last spring we decided to try and make our own explosives. It didn't go so shiny, burned our eyebrows off, singed our hair, it was amazin' til our folks found out. Soon as they caught up with us, I mean, I guess the boom was kinda noticeable. We ended up grounded, had to fix all the damage we caused, and got extra chores for a month. At the time it seemed completely unfair, we thought our parents were being so mean but after we thought about for awhile we realised that we had been complete idiots! I mean we coulda blown ourselves halfway cross the country or done serious damage to the ranch's equipment and land. Our parents weren't being mean, they wanted us to learn so that we'd be safe and, hopefully, smarter the next time. We just didn't realise it because we couldn't see that far ahead of ourselves."
"Interesting theory you have their. What about the Reddicks?"
"The Reddick kids live on another border ranch and their parents don't punish them, or at least didn't. Said it wasn't right, they was individuals and could choose their own way. Nancy and Mark figured everything in life was a joke and boundaries were for babies. Last month they went swimming in the quarry alone, they found Nancy's body three days later. No one cared enough to teach em right from wrong, teach em the consequences of their choices and now Nancy's dead. It seems to me like the more loving thing was to discipline us kids. We didn't like it at the time but we also knew enough to say no when we were invited to join the Reddicks that day."
"So you think because we can choose our own way, that's why our lives our filled with so much pain?"
"I'm saying there are consequences for the decisions we make, there's always a reaction, when we go against God it usually hurts us and probably other people too, if we take the time to look. Sounds like you have a rough life Mr. I don't know exactly what to make about all this, I mean I'm just a ranch kid and still trying figuring it all out. Don't know if I ever will. What I do know, though, if I ever lost my faith I'd be a dangerous man:
"And that's bad? I know a lot of people who'd give a smart, dangerous guy like you a good paying job. Give you a nice life, power, money. More than anything you could every find in this backwater dump." As if to emphasis the stranger's point, Mal watched a lone tumbleweed blow, unhindered, down the centre of Main Street.
Mal squinted up at the stranger, incredulity written on his face. "At the cost of who I am? You're crazy. Nothing to guide me, nothing to live for, no hope, sounds like some sort of terrible half life. Man can't live without hope, destroys em right to the core eventually. They just shut down, go numb. In the end, all they can do is go where the wind blows them, it's a sad life."
"Malcolm?" Mrs. Reynolds had finally finished talking with her friends "It's time to go now; there are chores to be done. Say goodbye to your friend."
"Sorry Mr. looks I gotta run. You sure you ain't goin to tell me your name. I mean all this heart to heart talk, it's kinda like you have too."
"No, no I don't"
"Your loss" he grinned at the man and then sobered "Seriously though Mr. I hope you find something to believe, even if it ain't faith, though I'm particularly fond of that option. Everyone needs something to believe in. Remember that okay? When you do find it, hold on, seems to me man like you needs some hope more than most."
Mal frowned as he finished and ran off towards the road where his Ma was waiting, puzzling over the strange man. Mal wondered if the stranger would ever find some peace or, an even more startling thought entered Mal's mind, would he ever become like the man. The stranger, for his part, watched Mal run off shaking his head and wondered if he'd ever reach the point of peace the child still possessed. Silently the stranger, put aside his musings, and restarted the hunt for his prey, preferring to re-entertain such esoteric thoughts when he possessed more time and a lot more alcohol.
Could it have really been him? Had the unnamed stranger . . . what were the chances that the unnamed man, the man from that lazy summer afternoon . . . the alliance agent . . . was his Shepherd Book?
"I wasn't born a Shepherd, Mal."
"Have to tell me about that sometime."
"No I don't"
"No I don't" Mal smiled, frustrated at the realization that the mystery would never be confirmed or denied, not that he was convinced Book would have told him even if things had worked out differently.
Looking over at the table Mal caught site of Shepherd's collar and Bible, memento's Kaylee had grabbed upon their return to Haven yesterday to claim Book's body for the burial. Stretching out his hand to lightly tough the objects he whispered "I'm glad you finally found something to believe in Mister."
With that Mal got up and headed toward the bridge, ready, to face a new day. Nothing had changed, they were still broken but they were flying and for today that was hope enough.