Disclaimer: The characters in this piece belong to Joss Whedon, not to me. Though I am using them without permission, I'm not making any money off of it—I'm in it for my own satisfaction.
Author's note: My first ever ff_Friday piece, this story is to answer Challenge 15, about virtue and vice.
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They say patience is a virtue, but River knows better. The seven cardinal virtues are hope, faith, love, charity, temperance, fortitude, and justice. Patience is just waiting in the dark for the clouds to clear and Simon to come. And yet, the world now seems full of new virtues, growing like weeds in the cracks in her mind. Perhaps patience is one of them.
River used to be able to tell between virtue and vice. The line between them was as clear as the difference between dark and light. But since they branded her with their mark and burned the undesirable shades of understanding from her mind, it is as if the world has shifted half a step to the right, a polarizing filter blocking all her light. They've tried to teach her the new ways. Virtue is sitting quietly and eating her food and taking Simon's medicines without complaint. Vice is making noise and throwing things and picking up the gun.
But when Kaylee was huddled, frightened, and the evil men were shooting at her, then picking up the gun was a virtue. Different gun, but shouldn't the same principles hold true regardless of manufacture? River knows the seven deadly sins: Wrath, gluttony, avarice, sloth, pride, lust, envy. Where does picking up the gun fall in? Is it better or worse than peeling the labels off the soup cans?
River's mind is sharper than ever. She has retained every piece of knowledge she ever learned, in the Academy or otherwise. But none of it makes any sense. Nothing she knows tells her what to do, and she is overwhelmed by confusion. The shades between good and evil are difficult to discern. She thought slashing Jayne with the knife was good, because he was filled with plans of betrayal and his outfit was lacking in color, but it turned out to be evil. She thought stealing was bad—she'd been taught that stealing was bad—but how can it be evil when it makes everyone on the ship so happy?
River sees things in black and white, right and wrong, but everyone else sees the world in various hues of muddled grey, and she yearns to remember how she saw things before. She almost asks Simon how she used to think, but it would only make him sad, so she stays silent.
Simon gives her the drugs every morning. Sometimes they leave her with a feeling of clarity, of connectedness to the ship and everyone on it. Sometimes they make her throw up. Simon is always so worried, but he tells her to be patient.
He says patience is a virtue. River knows better, but doesn't tell him so. Simon has so many virtues, she can allow him this foolishness. He understands it all more clearly than she does, anyway.