REMEMBER – words and phrases in nonbold italics are what each man wrote and then crossed out. To read the story in its proper form, though, you should hop over to ArchiveOfOurOwn (same story title, author name is Ella_Greggs).

POSTMARKED: "Jaynestown"

Dear Dad,

I think I'm finally starting to adapt to my new life. You said not to withhold information about our lives out here so be prepared to be shocked - I helped out recently on a "job." That's code for "crime," but nothing too terrible, I promise. I can't tell you too much because the details might identify exactly where we were, but suffice it to say I'm learning the art of dissembling to further our not-so legitimate endeavors, although my companions say I'm pretty bad at it. Still, I try. I'm joking of course. But acting skills are part of survival skills out here, so I'll have to work on it. I must confess I feel a shocking lack of shame at participating in a crime. Please don't be too disappointed in me.

River did not take part in the job. I insisted she wait on the ship where she'd be safe.

Every day she becomes more aware of her surroundings, and she's also started acting more normal around the crew. Her nightmares are far less frequent from what I can tell, which is a great relief. River still gets confused and says and does strange things, though. For example, one of our crewmates has long white hair. He usually wears it tied up, but the other day he wore it loose and she said there was too much "snow" on his head and his skull would collapse from the weight of it. I wasn't there in person to witness it, being out on that "job" I mentioned, so she might have been teasing him. But the way he told the story to me afterwards, I don't think so. Still, in a weird way I could understand her point of view, if that makes sense. It was kind like something a child with an overactive imagination might say. She is very childlike in some ways now, but I guess that doesn't have to be a bad thing. With all the uncertainty and dangers of our new life, I wish I could escape into childlike fancy every once in a while.

River also tried her hand at "fixing" inconsistencies in the Bible. I laughed and told her that was a lost cause, but she insisted it could be done if a person applied logic and quantum mechanics. I'll admit, she didn't make much sense talking about the Bible, but then, I'm hardly an expert on that particular text. Actually, now that I think about it, I could see pre-Academy River trying to apply logic and quantum mechanics to the Bible, too. All this is to say I continue to be hopeful that she is getting better, that her mind is healing.

It's getting easier to talk to Kaylee without saying the wrong thing. I told her she was pretty, which she very much is. She's got these lovely big brown eyes, sweet, heart-shaped face, and a sunny, easy smile. I was a bit drunk at the time, but she knew I meant it. Of course, I said exactly the wrong thing later on – I was trying to be polite, but it came out wrong. She's so different from the girls back in Osiris, Dad. They're all well-educated, cultured, and high achievers, but she's a self-taught mechanic from an obscure frontier planet. I don't think she even finished high school, and she says "ain't" instead of "isn't." It's not that I look down on her, not at all! I just don't really know how to act around her. She told me I don't have to be so formal with her, that I should loosen up. I tried to explain that being polite, being formal is my way of showing her respect. I don't think she understands, but you do, don't you, Dad?

Be careful, Dad, with this correspondence. The people you're dealing with to convey our letters back and forth can be extremely dangerous. My new travel companions really do run with an unsavory crowd. One of them double-crossed a real cutthroat a few years back and yesterday that man tried for a little payback. He beat me up during this "job" I mentioned. He kicked and punched me, sliced my arm with a knife, and threatened to cut out my eye. But one of the crew saved me. It's funny, this crewman is mostly a thug, and he usually doesn't hide his dislike for me, but he saved me. I guess even bad people can do good things.

I could never admit this to anyone on the crew, but I don't mind telling you I panicked during the beating. All I could think was, "What will happen to River if I'm gone? Who will take care of her?" I must be more careful in future. River is depending on me.

I desperately miss having a normal life and must content myself to live vicariously through you. So please write about your dinner parties and gala openings and plays and all the other normal goings on in Capital City.

Give our love to Mom,

Simon (and River)

Dear Simon,

Your latest letter arrived quite some time after you posted it, (Badger said he had to "dismiss" the first courier and replace him. I certainly wasn't going to ask for further details) so I know there's not much I can do after the fact, but I hate feeling so powerless when I read about you being in danger and getting beaten up. Still, I'm glad you told me. Even when the news is bad, I hang on every word you write.

I can't say I'm thrilled to hear you are participating in crimes, but I know you're in a desperate situation and just trying to survive. I will always be proud of you for looking after your sister, always. Nothing you could do would change that. That said, I'm still willing and able to send you money if it will help ease your way. Do you think that's a good idea? Should I try sending some in my next letter?

I'm so glad to hear things are going well with Kaylee. Don't be too hard on yourself about missteps. You'll figure out how to talk to her without it being awkward. You never were exactly a ladies' man. I remember when you wanted to ask Savannah Otan to the Tomkinson's summer cotillion when you were 18. You were a wreak for a week working up your courage! But in the end, she said yes and you two dated for several months, right? So don't give up with Kaylee. And there's nothing wrong with being polite and respectful. You may be a budding criminal, but, as your mother would say, that's no excuse for bad manners.

It's wonderful that River continues to get better. I thought a lot about what you said in your last letter, how you worried what would happen to her if something happened to you. Is there no one around you who could look after her in case something terrible did – God forbid – happen? What about Kaylee? You mentioned a man with white hair is part of your crew. Is he a kind man? Maybe you could ask him? In any event, please, please be careful, I know you will do everything you can to stay safe, Simon. I worry about you constantly.

You asked to hear what's going on in our lives but there's not much to say. I go to the office and think about my children. I come home and think about my children. We go out to parties and I think about my children. For your mother, it's pretty much the same. And in the morning it all starts again. I used to enjoy my work, but now it's just a means to earn money so I can pay Badger. I continue to attend the floating underground boxing matches where grimy men exchange our letters for money. In truth, it's a challenge to socialize with our so-called friends, at least for me. All I can think is how blind everyone is to the real cost of trusting the Parliament like we were taught to do. Your mother bears up better in public. She's charm and grace personified, whereas I've grown quite impatient with people. But then again, she always was stronger. I've grown closer to Clive Van Der Leer. He's the only one who seems to understand there is a great evil undergirding our comfortable Core existence. But even with Clive, I am very careful what I say. Victoria and her children are well. She suspects nothing, of course. The authorities are still keeping their distance. They monitor our waves and regular mail, I think, but I check the house regularly for surveillance devices and, so far, haven't found any. Still, your mother and I are very careful and never discuss you openly, not even to "put on a show" of disapproval for the benefit of any ears that might be listening. Instead, we lie in bed and whisper in the dark, praying for the safe return of our secret, hidden children.

Ta ma de, I used to be so pompous, so concerned about my social and professional standing. My precious permanent record! All the while, my poor daughter was being brutalized and only my brave son had the guts to fight for her! Now I loathe the sight of Alliance troops and burn with shame for how I treated you the last time we saw each other in that police station. Can you ever forgive me? Even if you can, I'm sure I will never forgive myself.

All our love to you and River,

Dad (and Mom)

Author's Note: As you can see, Simon and Gabriel have become more open, but are still attempting to shield each other from the worst. Simon is trying to put a positive spin on River's condition, and Gabriel remains very concerned about getting people in trouble if the letters are intercepted.