AN: My first Firefly fic, just something that was stuck in my head as I rewatched the series. Post-Serenity one-shot fluff.
Disclaimer: I disclaim. ^.^
Being a big brother is the hardest job in the 'verse. One that Mal and Simon shared, and butted heads over quite often. Simon was a lot more like Mal than Mal would ever care to admit; Simon represented, to Mal, what he could have been, if he hadn't seen the war and had grown up with a bit of money to toss around. Both were brilliant, both were able to adjust to whatever topsy-turvy circumstances got thrown at 'em, and both kept drawing the short stick in life.
Simon gave up the world, the best drawn stick in the damn galaxy—easy life, enjoyably challenging job, amazing pay, and happiness: his entire life's goal—to save his little sister. Mal lost everything fighting for a cause, and gained a family somewhere along the way as he wandered in the aftermath. Some would count that as a blessing; some days he did, some days he didn't. He'd collected people, people that mattered, and they were so much to lose. His bright little lights, shining like stars, and they could go out at any moment…
Zoe could look out for herself—always had. Hell, she'd saved him a few times. As far as best friends and seconds went, he could never have found a better one. She was one hell of a woman.
Jayne was… well, Jayne was something odd. He was tough and crude and didn't care for anything, but then he did sometimes. Sometimes Jayne cared more for Serenity's family than anything else in the 'verse, but most times he cared for himself above all else. He was the kind of folk Mal had to keep one eye on at all times lest he turn around and stab them in the back. He'd never forget Jayne sobbing, telling him that the money had been too good, and he'd never forget Jayne's guilt at Simon's hero worship over the deal, but Mal would also never forget the anger that had been coursing through his veins in that moment. For a moment, he'd felt a Reaver's anger, and it wasn't a sensation he was willing to relive any time soon. The Sheppard had fought hard to bring out the good man within him, and to solidify that man without Mal any the wiser until his end, and damn if Mal was going to let all that work go to waste. Not when the Sheppard had been one of the best friends he'd ever had, one of the brightest lights in his family of stars.
Kaylee… Kaylee sparkled. She was like a butterfly, bright wings and endless joy, but so delicate at times. One touch to her wings could render her flightless. She made Mal feel like a bumbling idiot; he'd say something that would upset her and would feel like gorramn shit afterwards. She wasn't Zoe; she wasn't weak but she wasn't above defending, either. She brought out that hidden older brother gene and he had to keep little Kaylee safe, even if she knew more about the world at times than he did. Some switches just couldn't be turned off once they were flicked on; looking after Kaylee appeared to be one of them.
Kaylee had Simon now, though. Their near-death experience had taught the boy something Mal had failed to learn; life's what you make it. He'd finally taken his thing with Kaylee and ran with it: both were happy now. Smiles and giggles and inside jokes filled the ship and by the Sheppard's God if it wasn't a good thing, especially in the absence of Wash's jokes and pining after Zoe. Zoe was twice as quiet as normal, but even she relaxed a little in the familiar presence of young love, even if the love wasn't her own. It was, for the time, enough.
That did, however, leave River. She was growing up, stabilizing, no longer have psychotic breakdowns (though she did still sometimes say some odd things, morbid and creepifying things…). Still, she was a little sister, and Mal figured if he'd traded out Kaylee to Simon, maybe he should take on watching after River in return.
River wasn't sunlight like Kaylee; she was the moonlight of a clear, airy night. She lit things up with a gentler glow, made the fuzzy outlines of matters easier to see but not blatantly, harshly obvious. She danced like a ballerina and fought like a warrior princess, flew like the prodigy Simon had always sworn she'd been and loved Serenity like no one, save Mal himself, ever had. As time went by and she became less Simon's shadow and more Mal's own, he wondered how he could have ever used her, ever turned her away, even if she could take care of herself. She was like a delicate flower, resilient but still fragile if cut the right way. She was beautiful, something to be protected at all costs.
Being a big brother was often times the hardest job in the 'verse, but someone had to do it. Mal couldn't find a reason why it shouldn't be him.
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