(no subject)

[river_meimei]

River's alone in her cell again. She usually is.

Except the cameras. Those are always there, little electronic eyes and ears in the walls. And guards outside, and more to watch the security feed.

River knows the ways of cages.

She's shackled, wrist and ankle, and lying curled under her bunk. Her eyes are glazed. The sedative they gave her hours ago is wearing off enough that she's only half-asleep, floating in a hazy stupor. Someone will be in soon to give her food, and someone else to dope her again afterwards.

But not yet.

Comments

[locks_it_up]

She's never alone.

Not really.

"Hey, kiddo." Her voice is soft, like the velvet sheath of a particularly fine blade.

[river_meimei]

River's head lifts, slowly. Her pupils are slightly dilated.

The room is blurry, drug-hazed.

Death's not. She's

(real as roses, my dear)

white and black and sharp-edged, and lovely.

[locks_it_up]

Fingers cool like carved marble on the gunslinger's brow.

She doesn't need to ask how River's doing.

[river_meimei]

River leans into the touch, just slightly.

After a long moment, "Are you here?" Hoarse, and slightly slurred.

[locks_it_up]

"I'm always here. Thought you might like to hear a friendly voice."

There's a pause, during which there she plays with River's hair.

"You're not going anywhere, you know. Well. Not right now."

[river_meimei]

River's fingers shift, as if she wants to lift a hand, but she doesn't. Or maybe can't.

She watches Death as if she's the only real thing in the room, as if she can't look away. Like a traveller in a desert, staring at a still clear pool.

"It's in the needles. Underneath."

Her glazed eyes shine with unshed tears.

"Hi." Or maybe that's hile.

Her enunciation's not so great right now.

[locks_it_up]

Death knows.

"It's gonna be alright, I think. From what I know of your brother, and your ka-tet. For now, though, you just have to hold on."

She crouches next to River, one hand brushing the back of hers, the other on her temple.

She won't take her hand. Not here. Not yet.

[river_meimei]

River swallows. "I'm trying."

A tear wells, overspills, and traces a slow line down her cheek.

"I -- She will." The pauses in her sentences stretch too long. "Be a tumbleweed."

Another slow tear. "I'm trying."

To the guards and the cameras, she's talking to mid-air.

[locks_it_up]

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

She'll be there, if it'll help. She made a promise, after all.

[river_meimei]

She's always there.

Sometimes that's harder to remember than other times.

River tries a smile. It's wobbly, and teary, and twists and trembles away from her. But it's something like a smile, because -- even here, even now -- the Lady can get one.

"Always do."

"Ontological."

Everything in this room looks insubstantial next to a face white as starlight and eyes black as space.

[locks_it_up]

She'd tell her what she told her littlest brother, that everyone knows everything, really, but that might be a little much for her to deal with right now. And besides. She doesn't have that big a mouth.

"Like the wind, my girl."

She smiles back.

It'll be okay.

[river_meimei]

And when Death smiles at you, that lopsided loving smile, with her fingers cool on your brow...

Well.

River's smile gets a little firmer, a little surer, even as another tear spills over.

[locks_it_up]

Cool fingers brush the tear away.

"Hush now, you."

And look! There is beeping of River's nose. Complete with sound effects.

[river_meimei]

River watches Death's finger move towards her nose, with a dull bleary surprise.

A slow blink, and then another, as she tries to keep her eyes focused on Death.

And then -- delayed reaction -- she ducks her head a fraction against the cool floor, and breathes out in the kind of silent laugh that's half a sob.

But only half.