fade in. fade out.
dream-style.

Not all problems can be fixed with folk-remedy. Medication today is the same as it was yesterday. Or years ago. Or lifetimes ago. Burns sweetly on the way down with imitated flavors.

---

A girl -- we'll call her "River" -- stumbles blindly through an unfocused mist, blurring uneven breaths with even footsteps.

She finds the line, and crosses it. Criss-cross, turn over and upside down until he hears the clatter of noise and comes running. In the image of gaiety, she smiles up from the floor so he won't worry himself. River thinks her 'unlucky' on good days, 'insane' on bad ones, but Simon will have none of it. Neither name is fitting for his 妹妹.

"There's clouds." She holds desperately to him like an anchor, swaying against the current. "But inside Serenity -- walls don't hold the vapor. Escaping, slipping, disarming...!"

He'll hush her, call her River, sweetie, darling, pretending that everything is still on the up and up even as it spirals down and down. As his hand comes through her hair he cradles her tenderly in hope-filled arms, humming and whispering with the thrum of his heartbeat because he's a terrible singer.

About to offer her another dose, he stops, and River feels him stop, the way his breath catches hesitantly in his throat and the nervous tightness around his eyes. He wants to say it will help, but can't, and instead sinks with her to the floor while they wait for the mist to clear.

He remembers his role, solemnly: brother, protector, doctor, sometimes angel. She's never called him that last one, but the thought had slipped into her thoughts easily since she'd read the shepherd's bible. Not one of those vengeful angels, either. But a helpful soul that saves and protects.

River laughs suddenly at the thought, and Simon instantly thinks something is wrong. She hides her face in his chest and his proper clothes, smiling. He is less proper now, thanks to months on the ship and coming used to the fact that they are all floating.

floating...

Forgetting if the word was spoken aloud, so thickly generated in her thoughts.

Turning gears slowing to an easy, automatic pulse, closing with her eyes as she sleeps against him.

fading

He lifts her gingerly, taking her to her room and marveling with some terror at how light she feels against him. Hollowed bones birdlike.

Dreamlike. She sleeps in mist.