River Tam (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
river_meimei) wrote2007-03-26 02:59 am
river_meimei) wrote2007-03-26 02:59 am
(no subject)
[Some hours after talking to Piotr.]
The thing about a Firefly-class ship is that they're riddled with secret corners. The ventilation ducts are larger than standard, the cargo bay has pockets behind the paneling, the wires bend and tangle around empty spaces; there are a thousand hideaways, and it's why smugglers love them.
Even on this ship, not everyone knows them all. Mal does; Kaylee does; Wash does; River does.
Which is why, right now, River is tucked away into a niche high in the corner of an air duct over the passenger cabins. Her head rests on her knees, and her arms are curled against her chest. In one hand, clenched tight enough for the thorns to leave white marks in her palm, is a purple rose. (The vase it was in was knocked over, and there's a patch of water spreading on her bunk's floor. River didn't stop to clean it up.) In her lap, squished between her thighs and ribs, is a pair of ballet shoes, with a note in one toe and a piece of crumpled paper in the other.
She's been sobbing, on and off, for a long time. When she's out of tears, she rests in weary misery, and after a time more come.
Right now, she has tears.
The thing about a Firefly-class ship is that they're riddled with secret corners. The ventilation ducts are larger than standard, the cargo bay has pockets behind the paneling, the wires bend and tangle around empty spaces; there are a thousand hideaways, and it's why smugglers love them.
Even on this ship, not everyone knows them all. Mal does; Kaylee does; Wash does; River does.
Which is why, right now, River is tucked away into a niche high in the corner of an air duct over the passenger cabins. Her head rests on her knees, and her arms are curled against her chest. In one hand, clenched tight enough for the thorns to leave white marks in her palm, is a purple rose. (The vase it was in was knocked over, and there's a patch of water spreading on her bunk's floor. River didn't stop to clean it up.) In her lap, squished between her thighs and ribs, is a pair of ballet shoes, with a note in one toe and a piece of crumpled paper in the other.
She's been sobbing, on and off, for a long time. When she's out of tears, she rests in weary misery, and after a time more come.
Right now, she has tears.