At first, the ship didn't feel like home to Simon. He was used to clean and functional and expensive, and it took time for him to adapt to Serenity. He would grumble about the state of the boat – the thin layer of dirt and oil congealed over everything, the smell of smoke and engine and people in close quarters.
But River was different. She felt everything, and in that everything, she felt the life of Serenity, pulsing beneath her feet and in her mind. Like a heartbeat, slow and steady. In her dreams the pulse was different, and it smelled like cool earth and like forest. In her dreams, Serenity took the form of Earth-That-Was, and River would smile in her sleep. But then, just as soon as she was feeling the tickle of the long grass against her bare feet, a gloved hand would grab her ankle and pull her down into the chair and she was strapped in and they were jamming needles into her head once again and she would scream with pain and fear and… There he was, his arms enveloping her, holding her and reassuring her that it was over. And River tired to shut her mind down and focus on the air filling her lungs. She leaned her head on Simon's chest, and she remembered when her thoughts weren't broken, and she listened to Simon's heart beating, strong and clear. And under that, she heard Serenity's heart, churning away, propelling them further from the gloves and the needles, and pushing more clean air out into the ship and into River's lungs.
When she stopped shivering, Simon kissed the top of her head and went back to his bed. River lay back down and pretended to sleep until she felt Simon's breathing slow and become shallow, and his mind let him begin to dream and pretend he was back in his clean world. River rose from her bed, silently, and began to walk the ship.
Some nights she walked through the whole of Serenity, but tonight she walked up to the bridge to look out at the crushing, icy blackness broken by tiny points of light, all of them calling out to her. Some were dying, coming to the end of their dance around the center of their galaxy. In one final burst of light and energy they would die, and in their place would form a new star. The particles and gasses would gather, slowly molding and joining to create a new sun for the planets that would form. It was a cycle, and, standing on the cold metal surrounded by the switches and lights, she was a part of it. She was stardust. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could hear it. The noise the dust made. She could smell it, and it smelled like soil and sunlight and serenity. Serenity. River sent herself out through the ship. Mal was in his bunk, sleeping soundly, but not dreaming. He stirred and shifted, but soon was still. River moved on. Kaylee was in her bunk, which smelled of warmth and joy and engine grease. Kaylee was wrapped in a multi-colored cotton blanket, and between the threads River could hear the story of the blanket – Kaylee had bought it on one of the border moons, from and old woman whose hands were knobbly and wrinkled but could weave a story from fine cotton threads. Kaylee loved the blanket, as she loved everything that was beautiful. She was dreaming, and in her dream she was with Simon, and River smiled to herself and moved on. Jayne was sleeping very soundly in his bunk full of metal and bullets, and River had no intention of staying for very long. She stayed long enough to realize that Jayne was dreaming of money and a woman with dark hair and eyes who carried a gun in her hands and a fire in her heart. River found Wash and Zoe, curled together in their bunk. Zoe was dreaming of fire and bodies, of war and hatred and resistance. Someone in her dream fell, his body riddled with bullets. He had been her friend, and she twitched in her sleep, making a small noise of pain. Without waking, Wash pulled her closer to him and held her. Zoe calmed, her breathing steadied, and she began to dream of a hot bath and a blonde man who wanted to show her the skies. River smiled to herself and began searching for the woman in the shuttle that smelled of spices and sensuality and incense. Inara was also asleep, wrapped in her silk sheets, and she was dreaming of a man – a quiet man, a coarse man with a fierce love in him that he did not understand. River smiled widely at this, for it was the secret only she knew. She opened her eyes and she was still on the bridge, surrounded by the whirring and beeping of Serenity. River turned and walked out into the silent corridor. Her feet fell without a sound onto the metal grates, down the stairs and back to the bunk she shared with Simon. Waiting to make sure he was still asleep, she slid the door open and lowered herself back onto her bed and wrapped herself in the blankets. She closed her eyes and felt Serenity beneath and in her, and she began to dream again of trees and grass and earth, and this time she felt no needles and no straps. Only soil and air and stardust.
