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[river_meimei]

[After talking to Faith.]

If she passed anyone in her sobbing, blind flight from the cargo bay to the passenger dorm, River doesn't know it. Probably doesn't care.

The door of her bunk is hanging half open.

River herself is huddled in one of the smallest smuggling niches inside the wall by the engine room, wrapped in her brown duster. She wasn't wearing it in Milliways, and it's only draped around her shoulders now, the long tails straggling around her. She's crying helplessly, bitterly, in choking gasps of sobs.

A trick of the cooling conduits that snake through this corner: it's cold.

Comments

[prydeful]

Kat didn't see her so much as hear her.

She's silent, in part because she almost always is, in part because she can't help but be when she walks on air, as she makes her way to River's side and then crouches next to the girl.

And then she doesn't say anything for a minute, doesn't move, before saying, softly, "Are you going to be okay if I hold you, sweetheart?"

[river_meimei]

River flinches; it's hard to tell, amidst the racking sobs.



"Everybody," she whimpers, "it's always everybody," and the rest is only weeping.

[prydeful]

She doesn't say anything to that, just reaches out and lightly put her arms around River's shoulders.

[river_meimei]

River doesn't move towards her, nor away.

Just presses her forehead to her knees, hands fisted in her coat's lapels, and sobs.

[prydeful]

There's a kiss pressed to River's hair for a moment, softly, before she says anything.

"Yeah. It is. Everbody and everything and every place."

For a minute, it's hard to remember that there's something to follow that with.

"But not all at once. And that's--it sucks. And it hurts, and that shouldn't be the bright spot in any way. But it still is. And until it's you and me, we have to carry it all with the other people who are still here."

[river_meimei]

...Aaaand now she's sobbing harder.

There is nothing remotely graceful about these tears; every sob rasps in River's chest, shakes her thin body, and her face is a mess of tears and snot and misery.

[prydeful]

Kate closes her eyes for a moment and then pulls River closer to her, just a little, arm more firmly around her.

She wants to say, more than anything, it's okay.

Instead she just tries to be warm and solid and offer anything approaching comfort she can.

[river_meimei]

"I'm always still here."

[prydeful]

"Not always, mei-mei. Just for now. You get your turn too."

[river_meimei]

"Everybody leaves me," River whispers, her voice twisting high and thin.

And then flinches suddenly, pulling away from Kate as much as the room and the other woman's arms allow, turning her face to the wall.

"I'm sorry--" she gasps, "she didn't, I'm sorry," and she crumples into fresh shaking sobs again, and even harder.

[prydeful]

"River. River," and she reaches out to pull River towards her, and it's far firmer this time, arms solid and heavy.

"She did," Kate whispers after a minute, "and it's okay."

[river_meimei]

River is shaking her head in tiny uneven motions, no and no and no.

But she turns her face to Kate's stomach, still crying, and doesn't pull away again.

[prydeful]

"Shhh." Just that, as she pulls River closer and ignores how anything feels.

"Stop being sorry."

[river_meimei]

River doesn't say anything.

Just sobs, huddled close.

[prydeful]

It's hard not to rock River a little bit, and she doesn't bother not trying.

She's silent for a bit, before murmuring, "Everybody leaves. But we remember."

[river_meimei]

River just cries.







Until, finally, a choked, "I remember."

[prydeful]

"Good girl." Just that, quietly and with love very clearly there, before she kisses River's hair again.

"Cry till you don't have to anymore."

[river_meimei]

"She can't not."

Perhaps cry; perhaps remember; perhaps something else.

River couldn't do other than obey on this particular subject, though, even if she wanted to. She weeps, huddled and broken in Kate's arms, and it's a long while before her sobs slow to exhausted sniffles.

[prydeful]

Kate doesn't say anything, just keeps holding her.

They're both phased by this point, air as solid beneath them as the floor was. Kate hasn't noticed this. She's also no less firmly holding River.

Right now, that's what matters.

[river_meimei]

Time has passed.

River's crumpled huddle is looser now with weariness; crying wears you out, and she's no longer straining into herself with the white-knuckled tension of before.

Her eyes are closed. She sniffles, and she breathes, and every so often another tear slips down onto her knees or Kate's.

[prydeful]

For the moment she's just waiting and stroking River's hair, except for when she's wiping at tears gently.

There's no rush, and--really.

There's no where else in this universe she should be beyond here.

(It's almost funny with how true that is.)

[river_meimei]

"I'll remember," River whispers at last, her voice small and tired.

"She said."

[prydeful]

"You will." That's not, Kate thinks, necessarily reassuring. She wishes it was.

It's just what's true.

[river_meimei]

River nods a little, eyes closed, and says nothing.

Her coat drapes around her body and over Kate's thighs, the long tails hanging down to trail through the insulating tiles of the floor.

[prydeful]

Part of her wants to pull away, and has, and is really sick of touching now.

Instead she holds River till her arms ache and closes her eyes.

She doesn't know what set this off, really, but she has her own things to remember, too.