Title: Sugar Water

Prompt by: sunshineali

Rating: PG-13

Setting: post-BDM

Word Count: 548

Prompt: hummingbird feeder; Rayne

It is different for the others. They do not look at her, but through her. Past the skin and bone, the sparkling eyes and raven hair. She is not beauty nor woman at all. She is sister, she is broken, she is weapon. Walks on her feet, sees the sun, and she is a girl, and yet so many days she is a world away from what she once was.

River copes. She understands, but does not comprehend. Even though answers flowed free as the water she is named for, they only wash away so much, perhaps too much. Where confusion once laid, clarity does not replace. The two intertwine as before, but differently. Contradictions, like the preacher man's symbol, like the pilot's skills. They fell before she ever began to dance her lethal steps the first time. So many times now, so much blood, on blood, on blood...

The redness fills her head, her eyes, her spirit. River cannot wash away such a torrent. It is not all her doing. That which is must be necessary, makes her a saviour, and yet it hurts. A sting in her soul, a barb embedded deep, and only one can save her.

So many run scared but he would never, could never. In the beginning, before she was what she ought to be, all that she could be, then his fear showed. Now he understood, better than even she. For an ape man, he had brains enough. When her head boiled over, when everything hurt, more inside than out, she craved his sweetness. Nobody saw but her, deliberate as he was to hide it. Big and brash and awkward to the world, but to her, the sweet nectar she craved to soothe her wounds, her very soul.

River flows, flits, flies. She appears elemental, electric, effervescent. The truth of the dancer is darker, devilish, ...

"River?"

His voice shudders through her like a shot of lightning, her whole body shivering with the force. She has seen and heard not a glimmer of light, not the breath of a word until now. Nightmares come, dark and confusing, drain her dry of spirit. Here she comes, to his warmth, his sweet nectar of comfort and reverie. Strong arms around her, hold her close, fingers through her hair that ease out each knot of confusion.

"Rough night, lil' bird?" he asks, lying down on the bunk, bringing her down with him.

Head on his chest, hands either side, she hears and feels the very breath of him. It is her solace, her nourishment, her safety. All that River ever needs is here and now. The rest all fades, means nothing or less. Jayne brings her back to life, to what she is and wants to be, to all she could ever hope to resemble.

"Better," she breathes easily for the first time in hours, first time in days maybe.

She's lost track again.

It doesn't matter. Matter's even less when she shifts on top of him, pushes herself up, face level with his own. Lips meet lips and all else is forgotten.

She is still at last and yet vibrating with energy that no-one sees, except for her Jayne who holds on tight, with a beautiful promise to never let her slip away.