Chapter Seven. Say it.
River had crash-landed them nearer the town, leaving it the only option for a place to recover. Battered and bruised, together they walked, limped, and hobbled back to what was formerly the drop site.
"Alright, first order of business. Need'ta get this crew patched up," Mal said, turning to Simon as they approached. The medic nodded painfully, his good arm slung over Kaylee. "Bound to be a place with supplies. Figure we could spread out-"
"It's over there," River announced, pointing to the third building down. "The medical station."
Mal breathed a sigh, clenching his jaw. She knew everything, it seemed. It had him wonder what else she'd known about. His reply was terse. "Well. There we go. Come on folk, look alive." He herded them, one by one, into the run-down medical station. The town looked like it could support a few hundred, at least, but there wasn't a soul to be seen, and the supplies at the station hadn't even been touched. His crew took their seats about the room, and Kaylee helped Simon in whatever way she could. If she stopped for too long, her eyes would start to fill with tears, no doubt thinking about her beloved ship wrecked a few hundred feet away. She started by gingerly stitching his back up, and then by fetching anything he needed for the others. Jayne's leg was deeply cut and needed stitches, and Mal got a crutch to walk on. Zoe helped wherever she could, and seemed to be the least shell shocked of them all.
"It's not broken, just sprained," Simon told him about his ankle, suggesting he should stay off of it for a while. Mal didn't even have the energy to argue. Zoe was also fine, aside from some cuts on her face and arms that Kaylee bandaged up.
It wasn't until he got to River, last, that any of them realized that she had been sliced up during the crash. That explained the blood all over the cockpit. "It's fine," she tried, but Simon wasn't having it. Mal heard the commotion, and glanced over. Now that he was looking, he could see that she had fragments covering most of her upper body: her arms, her chest, but mostly her side.
"River, you should have said something." Simon moved as quick as he could. He had to remove her dress, so Kaylee fetched her a blanket. River awkwardly undressed beneath it, while the others averted their eyes. Jayne had fallen asleep, and a heavy silence slipped over the crew like the blanket over River. Mal limped over to where his doc and mechanic were pulling pieces of glass out of his pilot's side. River didn't even flinch, so Mal winced for her.
"She get some of the good drugs?" he asked, moving a long piece of her hair out of the way of the process. A towel covered up her chest, the blanket below her waist for modesty's sake.
"I didn't give her anything," Simon admitted, eyeing Mal warily. "She refused." He was obviously not amused by her stubbornness, or by Mal's not-so-subtle affection, for that matter. Mal was grateful that Simon decided not to comment on the matter for now. They were already in a complicated situation, it would have been hell if whatever was going on between him and River was added to the mix.
"Doesn't hurt bad," was River's brief, dismissive explanation. Even though she said it didn't hurt, she still held out her hand to Mal, who felt no choice but to take it. He couldn't look away from where shards of glass peppered her abdomen and chest. The soft plink of glass against the metal bowl was the only sound that dared break the heavy, hopeless silence. Mal rested against the crutch, still holding River's hand. River wasn't watching as her brother pulled the fragments out of her, like Mal and Kaylee were, but was staring up at the ceiling. Every once in awhile she'd close her eyes, and her lips would move wordlessly. There was so much going on in her brain that she couldn't focus. She didn't even feel the pain. The volume in her head was turned all the way up. The lights flickered above them.
"Sir." Zoe's voice came from outside of the station, and Mal placed a kiss on his pilot's hand before setting it back on the table. He hobbled outside, where a few dozen people were waiting for him. They all had the same reddened faces, same beat down look that he recognized as defeat. Zoe stood there, arms folded. "Meet the good folk of Lampasas."
"Captain Reynolds," one of them spoke, up, his hat in his hands. He was one of the oldest present. "We can't tell you what a service you've done for us. Those men arrived here a week ago, robbed us, murdered some, and then sent us to live in the desert. We tried to fight, but we don't keep a lot of weapons here. Is it true, some of you are hurt?" The concern in the man's voice was a kindness, and Mal nodded, not entirely sure what to say for once.
He glanced at Zoe before answering the man's question. "We didn't do it on purpose, know that. But I'm glad we could help. We don't have any casualties, but a few of us are pretty banged up."
"Well, we'd like to offer you a place to rest up and recover. Anything we can give you, you'll have. We don't have a lot around here, especially after those men came, but we'll give you anything you need." The crowd murmured in agreement.
"That's mighty fine of you," Mal told them. "Our ship's in bad shape too. I can't imagine you got any spare parts for her, now do you?" The man frowned, shaking his head.
"No, but we've got some food, and warm beds for as long as you need to stay. And we're supposed to get a shipment next week from Persephone. Maybe you can reach out to your people and get some parts shipped out here?" Mal shook his head. 'Your people'. All of Mal's people were here already.
"I don't reckon I know what we'll do, but your offer of hospitality sure does us a favor we're in need of."
The man, who called himself Bert, wouldn't hear it. "Anything for the heroes of Lampasas."
Mal looked back into the medical station at his beaten down crew, and then back to Serenity, belly-up in the desert. He met Zoe's steely gaze. She hadn't said a word. She didn't need to. "Yeah. Big damn heroes."
They were given an entire house for the six of them. The family that previously lived there had been slaughtered by the pirates that had taken over. It had four bedrooms, and Mal decided early on he'd take the living room, but Zoe fought him for the option to switch out every few nights. He didn't have the energy to fight her, so he conceded. They informed that Bert was going to be placing an order for shipment from Persephone, and that Mal was free to make any requests. He joined him that evening, sitting in front of the town's only Cortex machine.
"I don't reckon you can help much," the captain explained, wincing. "But I might wave a few friends to see if they can help."
Bert stood to let Mal sit down, and then quietly removed himself from the room. At first he had no idea who to wave. He thought about waving Inara, but the idea of her looking sternly at him over the monitor was the last thing he wanted to deal with. He sat there for a few moments, head in his heads, but he remembered promising Kaylee to call Kiva and Mathias to check and see how the baby was. Leave it to his pilot to wonder how their friends were doing at a time like this. Still, it was probably better than asking for help. He convinced himself to dial their number. A few minutes later, Kiva's face appeared on his screen.
"Captain!" she exclaimed, holding a tiny Emmaline in her arms. "It's so good to hear from you! Are you coming to Persephone soon?"
Mal just shook his head. "No Kiva, we've run into some of trouble out here. Had a crash landing on Lampasas. Don't think we'll be flying anywhere anytime soon." Mal didn't know if they'd ever fly again, but he wasn't ready to admit that out loud. He couldn't fight the hopelessness that filled him.
"Oh no… That's terrible. Please, let me know if there's anything we can do," she implored, and he just nodded.
He blinked, and cleared his throat. "Anyway, Kaylee made me promise to tell you hey from her. Figured I'd give you two a wave."
"Of course! That reminds me. I got an odd message from West Oro. He's been trying to get in touch with you for a few days now," she added. "You should give him a call, it sounded urgent." Malcolm promised he would before he signed off, but when he tried to hail the strange former passenger, there was no answer. Mal left a message:
"Hey West, Kiva mentioned you'd hailed for us, but we're sorta stranded on Lampasas right now. Serenity's in pretty bad shape. If you need us, we can be reached here for.. well, who knows how long."
He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. Looks like we're on our own for now.
"On our own." A voice behind him brought him out of his head. It was River, standing in the doorway of the communications room. She held a plate of food in her hands. An offering. "They made us dinner. Thought you'd be hungry." Mal had ignored the ache in his stomach for so long that he'd forgotten that he hadn't even eaten.
"S'pose so," was all he could say, clearing his throat. She went to him, setting the plate down and taking a seat by his side.
"We're going to be okay," she assured him, but he frowned. Several moments passed before he spoke again.
"I've been thinking in my head, River. Why the hell didn't you tell me the drop was going to go sour?" River's mouth fell open, but all of the anger and disappointment he was trying to bury inside was beginning to boil his blood. Unfortunately for her, River had poor timing. "You knew the drop was going to go bad. Why the hell didn't you warn us? Now Serenity's out there flat on her back, and it's your gorram fault! You have an obligation to your ship, to your crew, to me!" His voice was raised now, and she was shrinking away from him.
"Mal, I didn't-"
"Don't tell me you didn't know!" He was shouting now, and her eyes began to fill, pain etched across her face. Later he would wonder how she could have pieces of glass removed from her body without a wince, but the moment he raises her voice at her she starts to crumble.
"It-it was an option, but there's always options. Like a deck of cards. I usually pick the right card and that's what happens. I didn't want Serenity to get hurt-" Mal stood up suddenly, causing her to jump.
"Yeah, we'll she's hurt real bad! And I got one person in mind who's hands that falls on." River's mouth fell open. Without another word, she bolted out of the room, knocking over her chair and letting the door slam behind her.
"Gorrammit!" Mal cried, slamming a fist onto the table. After his blood cooled, he sat back down, eyeing the dinner plate she'd brought him. Instantly, regret filled him. He shouldn't have yelled at her like that, and he knew it. It certainly wasn't her fault. It wasn't really anyone's fault; Mal just needed someone to blame for his own despair.
He eventually returned to the house, slipping in the front door as quietly as he could. He had allowed himself a few hours to wallow in his misery and self-pity before returning to the crew. They'd put a bed in the living room, and Zoe was already resting with a book she must have found lying around.
She glanced up as he walked in, and cleared her throat softly. "Everyone's wore out, sir. Went to bed. I believe yours is the last one on the left." Mal nodded, his eyes downcast. "We're going to be alright, sir."
"Yeah," he said, almost dismissively as he made his way up the stairs. Everyone seemed to be saying that, almost as if they thought he needed convincing. Last door on the left…
The first sight he was greeted with in the sparse bedroom was River was sleeping in the large bed, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow. There was a small light on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and it cast deep shadows around the room. Mal sighed, letting go of a deep breath. He wasn't sure if Zoe had mixed up the rooms, or River was just in the room meant for him. Either way, he wasn't going to fight it. The guilt of yelling at her still weighed heavily on him. Closing the door behind him, he slipped out of his coat, then shirt, then trousers while trying to be as silent as possible. Finally, he was able to sink into bed, slipping under the sheets. River stirred, and then turned to him, blinking her heavy eyes open.
"Hey River girl," he murmured softly. He wanted to pull her close, to hold her tight, but his own self-reproach wouldn't let him. They lay there, a foot apart.
"Yelled at me." Her voice was low, pained. Even in the darkness, he could see that he had hurt her quite deeply.
"I know I did. We both know I shouldn't have." A few quiet moments passed. He let out a sigh, and finally reached out and pulled her close to him. "River, bao bei, say you'll forgive me." She inhaled sharply at his touch, and he felt silent sobs wrack her chest again. "Shhh, River… River girl..." He ran his hand up and down her back, trying his best to sooth her. He'd never been good with crying women before, but he knew that her tears weren't just about him. He wanted to cry, too. It wasn't long until her quieted crying was reduced to a few sniffles and hiccups. "There now, that's a good girl."
She lifted her gaze to look at him, her cheeks still wet. "We are all broken. Serenity. Me. You. How to we put ourselves together again?" Mal brushed some of her tears away with his thumb. He'd already lost so much. Would he continue to deny himself what could lead him to happiness?
"I might have an idea. I'm gonna start listening to you." And then Mal leaned in, pressing his lips against her own in a real, proper kiss. River let out a soft moan, snaking her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him in a way that should have been against the law. Within the kiss, Mal was able to let go. He let go of the pain he'd been clinging to, and let go of his desperation. He was able to let everything simply slip away. From there, the kiss deepened with frenzy, as if they would never be here again. The captain had been denying himself this for what seemed like years. River had offered herself to him, plain as day, and he'd refused because of his own fear of intimacy. There was no doubt in his mind that he needed her, now, more than he was willing to admit out loud.
She retreated from the kiss for a moment, her breath coming in fast pants. His own heart was racing. "Am I really your River girl?" she asked him, vulnerability coloring her words. He cupped her face in his hands, and had her look right at him.
"You really are. I ain't scared no more. Not enough to run away from you." River smiled, and he felt his stomach flip at the way she looked at him. Her love for him was clear as day. Mal felt as though he would love her until the day she put a bullet in him, and probably even after. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, her smile faltered.
"Say it," she told him, moving as close as she possibly could to him.
"You know it's true," he replied, pressing his lips against her brow.
"I like to hear you say it." Mal leaned in, kissing her mouth again. One of his hands went to the back of her neck, the other to her waist, trying to be careful of her injuries. He'd loved a few women before, and had bedded a few more, but this was different. The captain wanted to do everything right by River. His entire world had crashed around him and he was powerless to stop it, but if there was one thing the captain could accomplish, it was doing right by her. He wasn't sure why a day like today would make him realize all of this. At a certain point Mal had feared her dead, and worried about having lost her before getting the chance to kiss her like this, to touch her how he wanted. He had worried that he had lost her before he'd had a chance to love her. He'd lived a long life this far, but he'd never been as frightened of anything as he was by losing her. She reacted to his kiss just as he anticipated she would: pressing herself against him, reaching out and running her hands up his back. He shuddered, his hips moving on their own will, a moan escaping his throat. Mal broke their kiss, gasping for air.
"I love you, River Tam," he told her breathlessly, his heart in his throat. "I love you."
Those men came outta nowhere. One minute it was business as usual, the next the people were being dragged into the street, shot and killed in front of their families. For what? Money. The Captain of Serenity. I think we'll be singin' songs about him for a long while. And River the Dancer. We ain't seen anything like her before. They could have stayed there forever and we would have taken care of them. If it had only been that simple…
Bert Laney
