river_meimei | (no subject)

(no subject)

River's in her room, curled up on the floor between bed and wall. There's a piece of paper in front of her; she's been scribbling something. She's not right now, though.

Right now her hands are curled between thighs and chest and her eyes are closed and damp, and her face is tight with misery.

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"Hates it!"

That's sharp, fierce and angry, and River flinches a moment later.

"No," she whispers, tears thick in her voice again. "I, I don't know -- Simon, she doesn't want it, and, and I know but I don't--"

He puts up a hand, and brushes a tear from below her eye with his thumb.

Quietly: "Is she in danger?"

River's head tips sideways: negation, or uncertainty, or some confused mixture of the two.

"Not now."

"I don't know -- got no doors, insufficient escape contingencies. She only sees the walls and I don't know."

And that's something he's familiar with: the uncertainty, the terrible suspicion based on the flimsiest of hints, the hateful feeling of having no proof.

Simon takes his sister's face in his hand and turns it gently toward him.

His voice is steady. "Then we'll have to find out."

River's breath hitches.

She nods against his palm; a tiny gesture, and then another nod, steadier.

"Okay," she whispers.

"Reconnaissance."

"Yes."

He has no idea how, but there'll be time to work that out.

"Have you seen Mary at the bar recently? Talked to her about it?"

River nods.

Swallows. Her voice is a clogged whisper when she says, "Wants to stay."

"Instead of going back to the school?" he hazards.

Because the other guess is that she wants to stay at the school, which doesn't jibe with what River's already said.

Another nod -- delayed, and a little hesitant, but that seems to be because of River's usual distractability rather than any uncertainty about Mary.

"Call it a leave."

"We can ask her more, then. Find out what it looks like to her."

Find out if perhaps there's any need to go take a closer look.

"Okay."

"Okay," he echoes.

After a moment, more quietly, "Come here," and he draws her into a hug.

River doesn't resist; neither does she hug back, though, for a long moment.

And then she sags against her brother, and her arms slip around his waist, and she turns her wet face into his neck and shuts her eyes.

"Shhh," he murmurs, and rubs her back soothingly, as he's done countless times before.

"It's going to be okay."

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