Ugh, has anyone here ever had a problem separating the sections in their chapters? Well, of you'll check, you can see that the entire chapter just kinda flows together, when there should be marks clearly dividing it into sections. Crap. I'll try something different this time.
By the way, I'm not sure if I've done this yet or not, but I DO NOT OWN FIREFLY OR THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES THEREIN!!! Heck, even this fic doesn't belong to me. It was all my muse's creation…
CHAPTER THREE: What's To Come
"No! Stop!" Private Malcolm Reynolds paused in his tracks. Beside him, Monty and Deverall also stopped. "Wait…" Mal looked around for the source of the noise.
Again, the woman screamed. This time, they were able to tell which direction it had come from. Immediately they took off running toward the sound. They found about a dozen Alliance soldiers, a few of them beating a young black woman, with the others looking on and laughing. Hatred and rage pounded through Mal's skull, and he was hardly aware that he and his friends were outnumbered four to one. They still fought.
Monty, in battle, was as unstoppable as the tide and even more ferocious and terrible than any lion. Especially when he was rather pissed off. Mal and Deverall could barely keep up with their friend. When half the purple-bellies had fallen, the rest of them scattered. Monty roared insults and made to chase after them, with Mal right behind him. Deverall, being the most level-headed of the three, held them back.
"No, no! We've saved the girl, no need to go all blood-lust on the cowards," Deverall said, jerking Mal short.
"Ha! Should I ever catch another scum playing at hurtin' women, I'll make 'em pay tenfold!" Monty thundered.
Deverall rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Yes. Of course. But for now, let them be. You'd probably just chase them into their encampment, and then where would you be?"
"I'd be in paradise!" Monty grinned ferociously. "Shooting down hordes of purple-bellies before going down in blazing glory!"
"And Mal?" Deverall smirked.
Monty laughed. "He'd be a smudge on the ground! … but he'd be a brave smudge."
"Ha-ha. I find this all kinds amusing," Mal said sarcastically. He knelt down next to the woman. "Hey, think you can get up?"
This was the first time that he would ever hear Zoe's voice. "Yes, sir…" she looked up at him.
"Well, then," Mal stretched out a hand to help her up, letting his guard down for a bit.
The young woman immediately sprang up, snatched away Mal's gun and struck him across the face with it. Then she raced off, leaving Monty and Deverall roaring with laughter and Mal lying half-conscious on the ground, with a bemused smile on his face.
(Brief interlude, wherein the story changes scenes…)
Mal stared into his cup. It was late, and really, drinking wasn't such a good idea, but he'd been dreaming about the war again. It had been awhile since he'd had nightmares about, but Zoe's recent death brought them back. Of course, the nightmares weren't the only things on his mind right now. He was also being choked by the memories, and by all the numerous "what if's" that plagued his thoughts.
"Dwelling," River announced her arrival in her typical (and seemingly random) way. "Dwelling dweller dwells dwellingly." She frowned. "Dwellingly isn't a word…"
"Feelin' like some alliteration, lil' albatross?" Mal asked, half-smiling.
"Feelin'…" she scowled at him, as though her slip into the common English spoken in out here in the Black had been his fault. "Feeling like some tea. To drink. Tea to drink."
"And what else would you do with tea?" Mal teased.
"On Earth-That-Was, there was the belief that you could read your future in tea-leaves," River started fixing a pot of tea. "That same belief does still exist today, but it is not nearly as popular as astrology."
"Had a woman read my palms, once, when I was a kid. She weren't too accurate, though. Predicted that I'd get married and have three kids and live a long, prosperous life." Mal almost laughed at the memory. He had never really put much store by the supernatural, but this one prediction seemed especially ludicrous to him now.
"Could still come true," River said. "Are married, if only in name, and Liam-"
"Shut up!" Mal said suddenly, harshly. It came out with much more anger than he had wanted. She stared at him with those wide, too-wise, too-pretty eyes.
"And I've held out as long as I can," River said softly. "Now I'm letting go and holding out my hand…"
Mal stood up, swaying slightly. "Think I've had enough to drink for tonight, darlin'…" he washed out his cup, but before he could do anything else, River presented him with a cup of tea. She had made one for herself and one for him.
"Stay with me," she asked.
Mal hesitatingly took the cup from her, but didn't drink any of it. Instead he stared at her for a good long while, but she avoided his eyes. He wasn't very comfortable with apologies, but he definitely owed River one.
"River…" he began awkwardly. She shook her head very slightly, her eyes fixed on something which apparently only she could see. "River?"
"They still talk to me," she said, her face pale. The cup slipped out of her fingers and crashed to the floor. "They're still in my head! They won't get out- they won't leave- she's scared…" River crumpled to the ground. Mal automatically looked around for Simon, but the doctor wasn't nearby. So instead he knelt down next to her.
"Hey… hey, no!" Mal pried the broken glass out of her hands. "You're cuttin' yourself, lil' one. Gonna need those pretty hands if you wanna keep going on jobs with us, dong ma (understand)?"
She sucked in a shaky breath, and nodded jerkily. "Yes… no… still scared…"
"Who's scared now?" Mal asked.
"She is," River answered. Her eyes were still glued to that one spot in the air. Mal followed her gaze, but it was useless gesture. He couldn't see what frightened her so much.
"River…"
"No! She sees it coming- storm's brewing, Mal. It's bad and it's coming. And the leaf gets tossed around… she wants to protect her leaf…" River stopped rambling and looked at him in sudden clarity. "Cap'n! Simon, now, please!" she begged. She buried her face in her hands, trying to block out the images that were flooding her head. "Go away go away go away goawaygoawaygoawaygoaway…"
Mal reached out for her, but River flinched away. "Hey, hey now, River!"
Wash peered into the kitchen. He had been woken up by her screams. "River," he started toward them.
Mal heard Wash at the door. He turned around and yelled at his pilot, "Get Simon! Now!"
Wash ran out, leaving Mal kneeling on the floor besides his terrified albatross. River rocked back and forth on her heels, unable to tear her eyes away from Zoe's mutilated corpse, hanging from the ceiling, its dead, blank eyes staring at her, the rotting mouth forming words promising death.
END CHAPTER
Tea, teased… am I the only person who noticed this? …sorry.
Does anyone recognize these lyrics?
Wow, I swear, this chapter just wrote itself. I honestly didn't see that ending coming until it… well, came. A lot scarier than what I had in mind.
Also, Liam is a character that I will definitely tell you more about in later chapters. But for now, his identity must remain a secret. He is a important part of Mal's past, though. A very important part.
Now, last but not least, a big thank you to everyone who's been reading this story! Please review, if you haven't already, because any sort of feedback is always appreciated! Except for flamers, who will be trampled by Steve, who needs to be put on a diet, because he's getting very fat….
And to the ones who have reviewed! To Rainstorm07, NajaMoonshadow, just slummin'' (ha! Figured out how to spell your name right! …Well, mostly right… stupid Word…), and random girl (hey, are you the same random girl who also reviewed Prince? Do you have an account here?).
