When River awoke the next morning, there were no men in white coats coming to collect her and strap her down. Nor was there a gentle hum of a ship encapsulating her in space. The place instead was of unconsecrated ground.

Snapping open her eyes, she sat up abruptly, gulping for air. Words and flashes filled her, sinking her to the bottom of a phantom abyss. Gradually, her breathing slowed and the blood drained back into her face. There was a memory, hers, but not, that remained after the tightness in her chest faded.

Midbook Transport. Standard radio and accelerator core. Class code 03-K64--Firefly.

Shaking away the bits of unfamiliar pieces, River shivered.

Looking around, she had to place herself just to be sure this was not all some cruel dream. Phantoms, ghosts and demons belonged in the unconscious. They could have infected her with these lies. A white comforter engulfed her in the oversized bed where she lay. The large space offered sparse furnishings and it was devoid of color.

An eerie silence filled the air as she pushed the blankets away, her body aching heavily with the simple effort. On her way off the bed, she knocked a slip of paper to the ground. Bending from the waist, she curiously retrieved it, turning it pen-marked side up.

River,

It occurred to me that perhaps we did not get off on the right foot. I took the liberty of supplying you with a few necessities. I hope all is to your liking. After you're washed, meet me downstairs for breakfast.

Sincerely,

Marcus.

River dropped the note, wandered over tothe closet and slid the door open. There, spanning the rack, were a multitude of dresses in varying colors and fabrics. She brushed her hand along the expansive selection, stopping occasionally to finger the soft silks. Overindulgence. Dropping her hand, she moved onto the bathroom and stood in front of the gigantic mirror.

The girl staring back at her was a ghostly stranger. Lifting her fingers to the glass, she traced her hollowed eyes, prominent cheekbones and down her pale neck, outlining the new curves of her foreign body.

The last time she saw herself she was a girl. They had altered her somehow. Gave her lips and eyes and shapes not her own. She forced herself to look away, down, anywhere but at her.

Running her fingers along the marble, she turned on the faucet and let it run a while, staring mindlessly at the stream and then shutting it off. Leaving the bedroom, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen as if in a trance.

When she entered, Marcus looked up from scrambling eggs, and smiled slightly. He wore gray slacks, a pale pink dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and an apron tied neatly around his waist. He took in the girl's appearance, her dark hair matted and still wearing the blue frock he had rescued her in.

"You're not dressed." Marcus stated flatly. He should have known she wouldn't have followed his simple instructions. And he had worded them so nicely.

River just stared at him, her eyes void, and moved to sit on one of the benches in the breakfast nook.

"Did you miss the brush I left for you in the bathroom?" He prodded further as he transferred the eggs onto two plates.

River ignored him and turned to open the blinds, flooding the kitchen with golden light. Turning back around, she watched the annoyance flash across his face. She cocked her head as she spoke. "Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?"

Marcus sucked in his breath, determined not to let the girl get to him. He'd always prided himself on his composure, his ability to calmly and rationally deal with any situation. Although, generally, he didn't have his adversaries poking around in his head for ammunition.

He could play. After all, that was his specialty, making the good feel they had a fighting chance, luring them into a false sense of hope only to snatch the very meaning of the word away.

Setting a plate before the girl, he moved to the other side of the table, sitting in the direct sunlight with false ease. Picking up his utensils, he proceeded to eat his breakfast with decorum, and in between bites, watched the girl quietly stare at her food as if it were the enemy. "Aren't you going to eat? Can't just sit there withering away."

"It's poisoned." River acknowledged.

Marcus took a nice long drink from his glass of water and set it back down gently. "You know I can't hurt you. Said it yourself."

"Eat to live, live to eat. It's circular. There's no point." River chanted, her gaze torpid, fixed on space.

"Point is to exist." Marcus waved his fork in the air. "Now, personally, I don't see the use of your particular existence. Call this blind faith." He set down his cutlery and wiped his mouth. "I do so hope that you're not a disappointment."

Marcus stood, grabbing his empty plate, and pushed River's closer towards her. "Now, eat up."

River lashed out and knocked the plate from the table, sending it crashing violently to the floor. "No!" She shrieked, clambering up on the bench as far away from the eggs as possible. "They will eat my brain. Change its chemistry!"

Marcus looked down at the pile of porcelain and eggs scattered across his floor and then back up at the wigged-out girl. The thing was truly out of her mind.

Shaking his head in disapproval, he grabbed her hand and yanked her down hard, her bare soles landing on the glass. River cried out in pain as the shards sliced her feet.

Marcus looked down at the bloody remnants and snorted before pulling her along with him back up the stairs, all the while reproaching her. "If you're not going to eat, the least you can do is make yourself decent. Honestly, aren't you the least bit embarrassed of yourself?"

River whimpered with each step, the carpet against her raw wounds causing a searing pain. When they reached the bathroom, Marcus turned on the shower and let the water run cold before throwing her in. She hit the tile wall cruelly and slumped to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees. Hot tears contrasted with the ice water hitting her skin, the freezing cold awaking her to the truth of her reality.

Marcus left the bathroom and sat down on his unmade bed listening to her weep, the sound was more melodious than screams. He found agony to be much more rewarding than fear, one really has to work hard to achieve mental anguish.

Ten minutes passed, and while her crying faded to sobs, it did not cease. Marcus sighed and stood up, making his way into the bathroom to find River in the same position he'd left her. He just stood there staring at the puzzling mess before him. In all his centuries of existence he had never come up against one so stubborn. "What's the matter? Didn't have bathing 101 at that over priced academy of yours?"

River lifted her head and looked at Marcus with red swollen eyes. Something in them had changed. "Don't function right. I'm broken." She confessed.

There was no doubt she was telling the truth. "Yes, they really cracked you up good, didn't they? Humans are foolish in that way. Believing they can perfect their species. Throughout history destroying their own kind for the cause. There's a kind of poetry to that. Don't you think?" He mused.

River just stared at him impassively.

"Never mind that." Marcus gestured to her. "Do you need my assistance?"

River nodded her head submissively.

"Alright then, stand up." As River did as she was told, Marcus adjusted the temperature so that it was more pleasant. Next, he removed his dress shirt and slacks, leaving his undershirt and boxers on as not to drench his clothing. "Turn around." He instructed lightly and brushed her thick wet hair aside so he could unbutton the back of her frock.

Pulling the plastered material from her body, he noticed her skin began to pink under the warm water. When she was completely stripped, he wrung the water from the clothing and tossed them into the waste bin. Looking up at his own sundries, he remembered something. "Be right back."

When he returned, he set a basket of various sweet smelling shampoos and soaps next to the shower. Plucking one out, he eyed the label. "Is apple scented ok?"

River looked over her shoulder at him, but said nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes." Popping the cap, he squirted an ample amount in his hands and worked the stuff through her long tresses, following in suit with conditioner. As he rinsed her hair, he ran his fingers through the locks until they were completely untangled and then he stood back to admire his handy work. "There now, all done." Reaching down, he picked up a washcloth and supplied it with soap before dangling it in front of her. "I presume you can handle the rest?"

When she was yet again unresponsive, he grabbed her arm and pulled her backside towards him. Starting at her shoulders, he lathered in circles and worked his way down. Meticulously and dutifully he scrubbed, using extra care around the sensitive areas. As he worked, he thought only of the job at hand, only vaguely mindful that he was handling a vulnerable, exposed young girl.

Giving her body a final rinse, he shut off the water and wrapped her in a large towel, guiding her out of the shower. "Now that's much better, isn't it? Clean is orderly. More efficientI always say." With every step, River winced, leaving diluted bloody footprints along the way. Marcus looked down and noticed the mess she was making. Lifting her with ease, he carried her to the bed and sat her on its end.

It took him awhile to find the first aid kit. It was still packaged-wrapped and covered in dust. Fishing around in it, he grabbed a roll of gauze, wrap and some antibiotics.

River looked down at Marcus as he knelt at her feet and proceeded to bandage them. Up until now, she had been introverted, a defense mechanism for impossible situations. She could feel the nothing pour from him. There was not a spark of anger, hate, pity, joy, or love. He was a blank canvas. It perplexed her how he cared for her now, so seemly attentive, as if it all were real.

River pulled her foot back defensively and whimpered as the disinfectant bubbled in her wounds.

"Sorry." Marcus apologized, looking up from her foot.

She met his gaze boldly. "Just a word. Has no meaning."

Marcus had to chuckle at that. "Can't pull the wool over your eyes, now can I?"

River felt an intense pity as she looked down on her wicked caretaker. With genuine compassion lacing her features, she responded. "Must be sad. Having to live an eternity of emptiness."

Marcus said nothing, and continued to wrap the gauze dutifully, the self-amused smile draining from his face.

TBC