(no subject)

This city's never fully dark. There's no star-spangled black in this sky, not even the close second-best that a clear atmosphere sometimes arches overhead; here the light pollution is ubiquitous, and the sky's a hazy humid grey under sulfurous street-lamps.

But it's night. Night, and growing later.

When there's nowhere else to go, you keep

(flying)

running. One step behind, one step ahead.

River's looking for something. A key, a rose, a door.

But here, in the city that (as they proudly say) never sleeps, it's anyone's guess what she might find. And what she won't.

(no subject)

It's been days since Kaylee was home. More than days.

She's looked, but Kaylee's good at hiding. Sometimes. Sometimes everyone is.

(When you're hurt so bad you just want to find a cave to hole up in, you can usually look hard enough to find one.)

And the few times River's found her, it's been...

Sometimes you want to be alone.

Sometimes you don't want even people you love to be near you.

(There have been days River's sat silently outside a door, waiting. Waiting until she had to go, hours later, and nothing had changed enough.)

And then it's later, and the world's too crowded or you've found another friend and the fragile peace there, or you've found another hole to hide in.

But, now: a door, down one of Milliways' shifting corridors. (Locked.) River tries the knob, stares at it for a moment, and then lifts her hand to knock.