Title: Tricky Things
Rating: G
Pairing: None (gen)
Summary: River contemplates and conclusions are made. Neither is in a linear fashion.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Fox and Joss Whedon. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work of fiction.
Minds are tricky things.
Open and closed. Simple and complex. Light and dark. Focused and chaotic.
River Tam would know this better than most. Or perhaps her own mind makes it harder.
There's a small platforms above the main walkway in the cargo bay. It's secluded and private. Hidden. She lays on the metal grating, can feel the chill of the steel sinking into her bones. Space steals heat, always has, always will.
If she keeps her eyes open, there is s shiny piece of sheet plating to her right that's tilted just right to watch the main floor. Seeing is not necessary, though. She feels too much as it is.
Jayne and the Shepherd are by the weights. Muscles tense and metal lifts. It goes against gravity, defies force. But they are not on a planet, so is gravity even real?
River dwells on this problem for a few moments, calculations flying through her mind. Math has always been easy. Physics has always been easy. Movement, dance, has always been easy. It is natural.
People are the difficult part. Contradicting, both angry and joyful. Too many motivations, too many causes. They cannot be analyzed generally, as a whole. There are no true laws, everything must be individual. Too many cases and River cannot meet them all.
Kaylee comes in, jumpsuits tied around her hips, a yellow shirt on. There are no more blue shirts on Serenity anymore. All of Simon's gloves are white. Jayne looks better in red.
There is a smudge of dirt on Kaylee's forehead. Engine grease from her favourite lady. And the lady loves Kaylee best, though the Captain must not be told, his feelings would be hurt. The lady knows this, but Kaylee takes care of her when she is sick, knows just how to put her back together when she is hurting. And Kaylee loves her back, pure and simple. This River knows.
Simon follows, his collar less stiffly starched than in months past. His sleeves are even rolled up, though folded perfectly with the buttons still done. Progress.
Her brother means safety, strong and sure. Even though he used to have terrible grammar, she supposes she is worse now than he ever was. Thoughts fragment and do not travel to the mouth in a smooth path. There is disruption, anomalies.
When Simon and Kaylee sit next to each other on a crate, River can feel the small distance between them. So close. Kaylee reaches out for Simon's hand and River smiles. Jayne rolls his eyes from across the room. Disregard the negative emotion, it is fake anyways. Jayne is a girl's name.
A gun is cocked and River can feel the movement in the air as the Shepherd whips his head around. Everyone has secrets, deep things hidden away in the depths of their minds, the depths of their souls. Some are dangerous, many are sad, some are angry, some are only important to the one keeping it. And some are dangerous.
Book's reactions are fast, too fast. This is not conducive to the typically sedate life of a Shepherd. More data is needed; a variable must be missing in the equation.
There is a faint smell of oil and gunpowder in the air. Zoe is cleaning her guns. It is a meticulous routine, practiced and perfected, timed and precise. Violence is a part of Zoe, as much as her blood and bone. It is needed to keep safe those she loves. And Zoe loves so fiercely that river can feel it pressing against her chest. An ocean tide, unwavering and powerful. Even if River hadn't ever met the Blue Hands, she would feel it. Everyone does.
River reaches out and finds Wash, sitting on the bridge in his chair. The air is warmer up there. Heat travels upwards, and cold goes down. Less metal and more glass. The black is on full display though the windows. Stars, nothing, silence, stillness, peace.
Freedom.
She pulls back from the window and focuses on Wash. Happiness, bright flowered shirts, courage, fear, love. All these all at once. Dinosaurs.
He taught her how to fly the ship. He taught her how to soar like an albatross.
River lets her mind wander back toward the cargo bay. There is plating coming loose in the corridor. Telling Kaylee will be paramount later.
Passing by the shuttle, there is perfume in the air. Always subtle, never overpowering. There is a rustle of silk. Inara likes to wear silk. She let River try on a dress once, settled the smooth fabric over her shoulders. River was too small, thin, for it. The dress looked out of place, incompatible with its subject.
There are ties between her and the Captain, though River cannot figure them out. She is reasonably certain that Inara cannot either.
There is one still missing. He is somewhere on the ship. Unless he found a way to survive in a vacuum or created a teleportation device in the two hours since she saw him last. The likelihood of either of those possibilities occurring approaches zero. They do not have the supplies for the second in any case.
"You up there again?"
River smiles.
The Captain is standing on the walkway beneath her, hands braces on the railing. The ever present pistol is strapped to his hip but the safety is on. Serenity means security for Malcolm Reynolds.
"This metal holds weight as well as any other and better than most." She flicks a metal bar, lets the ringing fade. Sound travels through air at the speed of three hundred and forty point twenty nine meters per second. But that value is dependent on air pressure, which has the possibility of being different on Serenity than it was on Osiris. She begins to calculate when the Captain interrupts.
"I should probably find it mighty uncomforting that the things you say are making more and more sense to me every day."
The Captain never wears bright colors. It's always browns and reds and tans and blacks. And always that coat. He doesn't stand out from a crowd but does as well. He is earth. Solid. Steady. Serenity is his home and his love and he chose them to live with him.
Some things are gifts beyond repayment.
"We are all broken somewhere, Captain."
She is mostly broken. The sad look in Simon's eyes tells her that clearly. And sometimes she remembers what it was like before the Academy. The clearness of mind, intensity of focus, perception of emotions and cue, privacy of mind. It is all gone now. Except when it appears like a mirage, shimmering and promising. She grasps it for moments, minutes, hours and then it's gone.
And she's broken again.
"Everything broken can be fixed, mei-mei." And then he walks down to the main floor, boots clanking against the metal.
River lays there for a long time, mind drifting. They really are tricky things, minds. Hers keeps bringing her back to the same idea, the same thought.
Broken things need glue. Adhesive is a requirement.
Serenity and her crew are her adhesive. They are what holds her together, keeps her from drifting though the glass and metal and into the black.
Jayne's gruffness, Book's wisdom, Kaylee's caring, Simon's love, Zoe's courage, Wash's laughter, Inara's grace and Mal's strength.
Serenity is her haven. She is safe. She can become unbroken.
River climbs off her platform and drops on silent feet to the walkway. Footwear is unnecessary, impedes movement and sensations. Maybe less sensation would be an improvement. Her boots are in her room, far away.
She closes her eyes and she walks down the stairs, feeling the crew's minds press against her own. They are familiar.
They are home.
Minds are tricky things.
And now River needs to find some glue.