(no subject)

[river_meimei]

When River returns from Milliways, she's looking thoughtful.

This can be hard to tell, of course; sometimes dust motes and deckplating make River look soberly thoughtful. But today she only runs a slow hand down the wall, watching the path her fingers trace as the doorway closes into an empty hallway behind her, and then moves away.

She has a destination in mind, it seems.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

A clot of soapsuds slowly drifts down the side of the sink. Simon watches it move, and doesn't say anything until it reaches the bottom.

"Who else will be there?"

[river_meimei]

"The composition is fluid."

Beat.

"Slayers."

Another beat.

"Council. It's not a solo mission. He's gathering support staff."

[simon_doctor]

Well. There's that, at least.

"Do you know when it's going to be?"

[river_meimei]

"Soon."

Beat.

"Not today," she adds, as if this is all the reassurance Simon might need on that subject.

[simon_doctor]

He's quiet again for a moment, and then picks up the bowl and resumes scrubbing it.

"We'll have to see," he says, not looking at her.

[river_meimei]

River studies her brother: the side of his face, his head bent over the bowl and his hands at work with sponge and soap.

"I remember," she says very softly.

"Who we are."

"I'll be careful."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's eyes close for a split second.

He's looking right at her. "I can't let you go," he says, firm and certain.

He's looking silently down at the bowl, running the sponge over and over a spot that's been clean for a while now.

[river_meimei]

River's eyes drop.

"Gonna be okay," she whispers.

[simon_doctor]

"Let me talk to whoever's in charge of the, the mission," he says. "And we'll see."

He puts aside the sponge, and begins to rinse the bowl.

[river_meimei]

"Andrew. Is the contact."

River's hands spread slowly at her sides, and she looks down at them. In her face is no guilt, no apology, but a sober sadness.

Softly, she says, "I'll come back."

(This might be a lie.

She knows it.)

[simon_doctor]

He can't read her thoughts, not even those that are only barely subvocalized. He doesn't need to.

"I'll speak to him, then," is all he says, and reaches to turn off the running water.

Silence falls with an impact like a dropped book hitting the floor.

[river_meimei]

River doesn't say anything.

Just looks at Simon, and her face is sober and adult, and softer than it has been.

[simon_doctor]

He reaches for a towel, carefully wipes his hands dry, carefully hangs the towel back on its hook.

Looks back at her, and all his fear for her howls like a storm wind just under the surface of his eyes.

Looks away, and steps past her to the door.