Osiris.
God of the dead. Married his sister. Killed by his brother. Green-skinned god who weighs hearts against a feather. Makes no sense. Light feathers and heavy hearts, so we all get eaten up, up, up, by the soul-swallower, into the eternal dark, the eternal death; the last one, forever.
I lived on the god of death and I left and I died. I think I died. The way Simon looks at me sometimes, like I'm someone new, I think I died. Died and came back with small memories of old lives and new memories, big memories, screaming memories of things in skulls and hands of blue and learning the world, learning the universe, learning a hundred, a thousand, a million ways to kill – too many things to hold in one head. I know too much. I know all of them more than they do, but not me. Me. I. I am River. River, river, flowing, rushing, never twice the same, no matter how many times you step in, never the same. Never, never.
Gods with green skin are not as real as gods with blue. Not anymore.
Simon sank down into one of the chairs in the mess-hall, lowering his head into his hands and massaging his temples with his fingertips. The air hinted of oil and polish, which did nothing for the headache that had started to thud deep in the back of his skull. He supposed Jayne must have been cleaning his guns in here earlier. Completely unhygienic to let him do that at the table they ate at, but then, allowing him to be at the table at all was probably pretty unhygienic in the first place. Still; right now it was easier to relax here than in his cabin, even if he was breathing in fumes.
"Are you alright, Simon?"
Simon raised his head from his hands. Inara was standing in the doorway.
"Yes, I'm... I'm fine, thank you, Inara," he replied, "I just have a bit of a headache."
She stepped into the room, her silken dress moving like water as she made her way into the partition of the room that served as a kitchen. She filled a pot, and placed it on the stove.
"Tea?"
"Please."
The room fell to silence, but for the sound of her clinking pots and cups. Simon knew that he should probably be making conversation, but right now he couldn't. His hands were trembling. He pressed them flat against the table.
After a couple of minutes Inara brought him his cup, and sat down opposite him. He sipped his tea, savouring the heat and the subtle intricacies of the flavour – mellow, a touch of ginger. The scent of it overpowered the fumes from Jayne's cleaning.
"Thank you," he said, "it's nice to have something like this amidst all the..."
He paused, not wanting to sound snobbish.
"Uncivilisedness?" Inara offered, giving him a knowing smile, "it must be very strange for you."
Simon laughed, and it came out more derisive than he'd intended.
"Everything is strange right now."
Inara nodded, and took a sip of her tea.
"How is she doing?"
She didn't have to tell him who she meant.
"I... I wish I knew."
Simon gazed down at the deep ruby glint where the light hit his tea. River. He loved her, really he did, but it was hard. He'd given up his entire existence for her, and she... she was so deeply broken. His beautiful, mischievous sister, torn and modified in so many places, and he didn't know how to fix her. He didn't know if it was even possible. All his life people had come to him for solutions, and he'd been able to fix them, but this time he'd never felt so helpless.
"She's started screaming," he said, his gaze still fixed on the cup, "she was before, but now she... she woke me up three times last night, and nothing I said would console her. That's happened almost every night for the past two weeks."
Inara drew in a breath as if she was about to speak, but was cut off when Kaylee came barreling into the room with River chasing after her, the two of them giggling incessantly.
"River's it!" Kaylee explained breathlessly, ducking around the other side of the table as the other girl lunged at her.
"Only because Kaylee cheated," River gasped, throwing herself over the edge of the table to try and touch her with her fingertips, "bagsing without first indicating that you're going to play is strategic, but unfair."
Simon couldn't help but grin as the two girls danced around the table, and Inara laughed with them, cheering them both on. Sometimes his sister was still such a child, such a normal, happy child. But when she wasn't...
"Do I pay you girls to play, now?" Mal asked, striding into the room.
"Well, I s'pose don't really pay you for anythin'," he added, glancing at River, "so I guess you can be just as crazy as you so please, but I need you, Kaylee, and you too, Simon, to come with me."
"Aw, cap'n -" Kaylee began, but Mal shot her a hard look.
"Both of you, pronto!" He turned to leave, "Inara, make sure little miss playful here doesn't start playin' with anything she's liable to hurt a body with."
Simon stood up and followed Kaylee and the captain out of the room, glancing back over his shoulder to see Inara setting River down and started to run her fingers through her hair in lieu of a comb. His sister was still smiling, her face aglow with it.
How he wanted to kill the ones who'd broken her.
