Disclaimer: Still don't own Chuck or Firefly.

A/N: Once again, a great deal of thanks to the incomparable Verkisto for her superb input on this chapter. This is, again, my first attempt to write Firefly and its characters, so she's been very much needed. On top of that, she's helped me with my idiocy, lol. Okay, I want bore you with a super long A/N this time. I'll let you read. Thank you for reading, and please review. Thanks!

Chapter 2: Fear the Reaver

Onboard Serenity
October 31, 2009

It had been nearly a day since the crew of Serenity experienced their strange trip at the Edge. One minute, they'd been trying to avoid Reavers, the next they'd been pulled into some kind of strange force field. Everything on the ship had gone black, and despite the efforts of the Captain and the psychic co-pilot, all control of the ship was lost. They'd spun around in circles, and everything not strapped down — and most things that were — had been tossed all over the ship.

When everything had calmed, they found themselves just beyond the atmosphere of a strange blue planet that no one had ever seen before. All attempts to identify it had been unsuccessful. Hell, all attempts to connect to the Cortex in general had been unsuccessful.

Fortunately, whatever had pulled them to wherever the blue blazes they were had only taken one ship of Reavers with them. The monsters had landed hours ago on the foreign Rock and had yet to emerge.

For now, they were safe, but the crew knew that wouldn't last.

Whatever the trip was that they'd been on had sapped most of the ship's fuel reserves, and they were running on fumes. So far, they'd been able to avoid trying to make radio contact with those below, but they didn't know how long that would last. Eventually, they would need to land.

Then, somehow, someone on the ground below had pinged Serenity's communications.

"Well, if anyone's listening, we've been attacked by these big, scary monster things that seem to skin people alive and possibly eat them. Personally, I think they're zombies, but Casey thinks—"

"Ai-yah. Tyen-ah…" Mal cursed under his breath. Whoever the poor hapless sonofabitch was that he was talking to was trapped in a building with Reavers. What do you tell a man who's about to die?

"They ain't zombies, kid."

"Oh, hi there!" was the man's enthusiastic reply. Didn't that fool know what peril he was in?

Then another voice came through the speakers.

"This is Colonel John Casey, United States Marine Corps. What intel can you provide me on the enemy?"

United States? What the ruttin' hell?

"I suggest you keep your ass away from them."

"I'm sorry. Repeat instructions?" asked the Marine, who sounded suspiciously like a spiffied up Jayne.

"I said stay the hell away. They'll kill ya, and that's the good part."

"Who is this?" the man asked.

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds, Firefly class Serenity. And those things after ya'll? They're called Reavers, and they ain't lookin' for a tea party," Mal explained.

"Reavers? What the hell is a Reaver? And where did they come from?"

Mal paused, unsure exactly what to tell the man, unsure what even needed to be said. Did it actually matter if these poor souls knew what was after them? Could anything really help them? Well, there was always…

"You feelin' up to a repeat performance, little one?" Mal asked, turning to his co-pilot.

River shrugged, tucking her knees under her chin nonchalantly and looking for all the 'verse nothing like the killer she was capable of being.

"Well, can you do it or not? 'Cause there's some folks down there need your help something fierce."

"Humans are often their own harshest critics. Asking someone to evaluate their own ability to perform a task is rarely the best way to gauge their abilities," River answered. She paused for a moment, a small grin turning up the corners of her mouth, then added, "Unless they're cocky."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," River finally said.

Mal turned back to the communications console.

"Colonel, help is on the way."

The next part, he didn't want to have to say, but the people on the ground deserved to know. No one deserved to feel the full brunt of what Reavers were capable of.

"But if they get to ya before we do…there's things worse than death," he finished.

Inside the base
October 31, 2009

"What do you think he meant by that?" Chuck asked quizzically.

Casey and Sarah shared a grim look. They both knew exactly what this mystery captain had meant. If it came down to it, it would be pointless to try to fight back. Death would be inevitable at the hands of the monsters that were just outside the door. The only question would be how much pain they would have to suffer before that death came.

"Casey, will you?" Sarah asked, nodding towards Chuck.

"Don't have the stomach for it, Walker?" Casey asked gruffly, teasingly. It was the type of gallows humor only John Casey was capable of.

"You know I —"

"I'll take care of it," Casey said tersely.

"Thank you, Casey."

"Wait, did I just miss something?" Chuck asked. "What are you taking care of?"

Casey merely grunted in reply.

After the communication ended, the team sat quietly in the dark room. They could hear the footsteps of the beasts outside in the hallway and didn't want to attract any attention. With any luck, they'd be able to stay hidden until help arrived.

But luck was not on their side.

Suddenly, something (and "something" was certainly more apt in this case than "someone") began pounding against the steel door. At first, it amounted to nothing but noise, but after several minutes of continuous beating, the door that was designed to stop bullets began to give way.

Casey eyed the door stoically, even as Chuck and Sarah inched closer and closer to one another. Sweat began to form on Chuck's brow, and he looked over at his blonde companion. Their gazes seemed to say what they were incapable of voicing.

If something happens, know that I love you.

Their hands interwoven, Chuck and Sarah watched with panic and dread and worry on their faces — not for themselves but for one another — as the door was ripped from its hinges. The steel door – the only barrier between Team Bartowski and the Reavers – clattered to the ground, now just a useless bulletproof scrap. The scrape of metal-on-metal caused a shrill shriek to permeate the room. Sarah, Chuck, and Casey all did their best to put on a brave face, unwilling to show the enemy the fear that radiated from their bellies. Then Chuck swallowed the lump in his throat and chanced one more look at the woman next to him as the Reavers began to pour into the room.

A/N: You guys are awesome. Peace.