River, Author

Chapter 7

By Abby

Rating: PG

Notes: I know it's been a long time coming, but here it is: chapter 7. You might want to go back and reread at least Chapter 6 before heading into this one. This was originally meant to be a long super-chapter, but I thought for Christmas you deserved half of it, at least. My gift to you. I hope you like it. Please R + R!

O o x o O o x o O

Mal woke up bleary-eyed, the wall on the opposite side of his quarters coming into focus. He stared at it for an indefinable amount of time, his body too warm and his head too empty for sufficient motivation to push himself out of bed.

He heard muffled laughter above his head, a sign that Kaylee was up and heading towards breakfast. Several pairs of footsteps followed: the rest of the crew.

He rolled over and adjusted his view to the ceiling, not truly seeing it but focusing on the memory of her eyes and their plea for help. A plea for his help. Something had suddenly shifted gears without his realizing it, and the revelation made him speechless, stricken dumb.

Perhaps her statement last night wasn't all that untrue.

He had always been convinced his sense of right and sense of survival were irrevocably separated, that his faith was abandoned, no longer on the path available to him. Broken. He had lived broken for so many years, the war reminding him everyday that he was a defeated man.

Then River had come along, shattered into so many pieces that her reflection was no longer visible through the innumerable fractures. The Alliance's handiwork. They took away her livelihood, her childhood, her family, her sanity, even her ability to hide away her true self in her own mind. They had taken everything, left an empty shell, and slowly filled it with lies, horrors, unspeakables…

Yet here she was, on Serenity, attempting to put the shards back together. Grasping for life, hope, for her true self. She was fighting.

So why wasn't he fighting? Mal couldn't deny that he had seen more than he could bear, but in view of the absolute dark abyss River was emerging from, he could no longer look at himself in the mirror and claim that he was beyond help, beyond reach. And River was reaching for him.

He had no idea what to do.

So he stayed put, isolating himself from the crew, anxious to keep to himself the events of last night, anxious to avoid her gaze, answer her unspoken question.

It took a couple of hours, moping in this fashion, before hunger got the best of him. He reached under his bed for the tin he usually kept stocked with a private reserve of protein bars. His hands made contact with the coolness of the bottom. Nothing. He considered hunkering down and dealing with the twisting in his stomach. Heck, he had gone without for longer than this back during the war.

But that was a good while ago, he had to admit. And since then his body had grown accustomed to getting what it wanted on a fairly regular schedule. And right now the idea of a hot cup of coffee was causing his internal clock to scream at him.

He ascended his ladder and slowly poked his head out, assessing the situation. He didn't see anyone in sight, but he could smell the leftover scents of breakfast still lingering in the corridor. Bacon. Someone had spent a little extra money and got bacon. The memory of its taste made his salivary glands water in anticipation. It reminded him of Shadow and breakfast with his mother, back when they raised their own food and salted bacon was on the menu every Sunday morning. It was a weak spot of his. A couple seconds later he was up and out of the hatch, deciding he was willing to risk social interaction in order to see if any stray strips were left to salvage.

The light of the kitchen hurt his eyes at first, after so many hours of the dim of his bunk, but he quickly made the observation that the kitchen was devoid of both food and people. That is until he eyed the nearly hidden figure of Simon seated in the cove, and, apparently, waiting for him.

"Captain" Simon acknowledged, not turning his head to make eye contact. "I had a feeling you would come up."

Mal sniffed the air. "Where's the bacon?" he asked dejectedly, wondering if he was being set up.

"Kaylee knew your affinity for it. She said it was a sure thing to get you out of bed. 'Like a charm,' to quote her."

Now Mal was definitely feeling set up. "Where's the bacon?" The tone was more whiney than authoritative. He had half a mind to turn around.

Simon twisted around and considered him coolly, the epitome of calm and composure. "Captain, would you mind sitting down with me a moment? There is something I would like to discuss with you.

Nothing in his look gave anything away, but Mal was already certain what Simon was after. A sigh and a few slow steps later, Mal was seated in the seat opposite, waiting quietly and patiently for the doctor to speak.

"Now, captain. I didn't call you here to tell you what you ought to think, or voice my current distaste. I called you here, rather…" Simon hesitated a bit, and Mal could almost sense the hint of a blush creep up on the doctor's normally pale complexion. "I called you here on the behalf of my sister. I don't know if she has the strength to say these things herself."

Mal sat back off his knees, knowing exactly what the doctor was referring to. At least he thought he did. He decided to feign ignorance and shot Simon a blank look.

Simon must have been hoping that Mal would know what he was talking about, because he shifted in his chair, looking fairly uncomfortable. A silence followed as he formulated what he was going to say next. "It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs," he began slowly, quietly, folding his hands and staring down at his feet, "tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly." He looked up briefly, waiting for a reaction from Mal.

There was a space of a blink before a small smirk rose on the captain's lips. Without hesitation, he responded. "S'awful nice sentiment, doc, but I do have to warn you that I don't lean that way."

A brief moment of confusion on Simon's part was quickly replaced by irritation. "Funny, captain, but that was actually a quote from 'Jane Eyre'."

"Never read it."

"It just reminded me of…" A quiet clearing of the throat. "Well, I don't know if you have noticed it, but River seems to put a lot of stock into how you think of her. I believe I don't need to remind you of what happened yesterday." His eyes darted over to the kitchen table, as if the events were replaying in front of him.

"No, you don't." Mal fidgeted, attempting to smooth down an errant section of hair and failing. "I didn't mean to scare your sister the way I did, or to cause all the ruckus that happened thereafter. But it's my fault, nonetheless."

"Captain…"

"I think I'm startin' to understand what you had to deal with, y'know? You know what she was like afore the Alliance got a hold of her. Now you have to face those breakdowns she has with the memory of what she was. I caught a glimpse of that real River recently. I just couldn't handle it as well as you could when I saw that slip away 'gain yesterday."

Neither of them were expecting the degree of transparency of Malcolm's words. Slightly embarrassed, Malcolm got up and busied himself with preparing a pot of coffee. For a while the only sound was the opening of tins and the sound of the kettle boiling. When Malcolm returned, he was holding two cups of coffee, handing one to Simon. Taking a sip (and pausing to revel in the first taste of anything since yesterday's breakfast), he reseated himself, looking more prepared for the rest of the conversation. "So what was the whole 'Jane Eyre' quote about?"

Feeling encouraged by the captain's initiative, Simon cradled the warm cup in his hands. "I couldn't think of any other way to describe what I was seeing, I suppose. Rochester's way of putting things might be a bit more melodramatic than my personal observations, but there is truth in the saying." Steam curled and rose to the center of the circular alcove. "There is a unique friendship between you two that I've noticed developing in the last few weeks. I can't say that I was particularly pleased, at the start, but River seems to have attached a certain amount of trust in you." His brow furrowed, an expression that didn't go unnoticed by the captain. "I'm afraid that if you try to remove yourself from whatever this is now, she might regress. "

It was a statement that filled Mal with fear. Fear of the possibility of seeing her descend once more, to stare into the eyes of the machine once more. He feared that he would fail her, fail her just like he had failed everyone else who had ever been close to him. And now he was afraid that he had gotten closer to her than he meant to. He closed his eyes, hating how vulnerable he felt under Simon's gaze. "I know that she wants help. I just don't know if I can give it to her."

He didn't see him, but he knew that Simon was hesitating, trying to decide whether or not to divulge certain information. Finally, he heard his voice, sedate and muted. "She writes about you." A pause. "It's an invasion of privacy, I know, but I had to check her journal for any improvement. Believe me it was hard to do. I had to wait till she was asleep." He coughed. "It appears her thoughts have begun to sharpen, and you're her object of focus. Let me assure you, she knows more about you than perhaps you can comprehend. If she thinks you can help her, then I don't doubt that."

Mal tried to take it all in, what Simon was saying. The fact that somehow she had gotten into his head, figured him out, made him nervous, made him feel exposed. She trusted him, but he didn't know why. He didn't even trust himself. But if she wanted his help, he would answer. He would attempt to answer that question that was in her eyes.

Something then occurred to him. "Why, of all people, are you askin' me to do this, Simon? Thought you 'n I didn't see eye to eye."

"River is my sister, Mal. I love her. If you're the person that can save her, why would I deny her?"