Remember Me – Part 3

A couple of days had passed since River’s troubled awakening, and it had taken her just as long to let anyone get anywhere near hear. Even Simon had been classified as something to fear when he had eventually responding to Kaylee’s pleas for assistance. Strangely, the only one not alarmed by River’s new attitude and lack of memory appeared to be Jayne. When confronted by Mal over his lack of concern, the mercenary was oddly taciturn in his grumbled response.

“Aw Mal…don’t be busting my chops ‘cause I ain’t upset over Moonbrain here bein’ even spacier than before. Heck, might be for the best! ‘Sides, other than the whole no memory thing, she don’t seem to be crazy no more. Well, less feng le than usual. I saw we enjoy it while we got the op-por-tun-ity.”

Jayne shifted his from one foot to the other, as if Mal was a teacher chastising him for spitting, as he answered Mal’s brusque inquiry into his lack of concern. Once he had responded to the shorter man, he wasted no time returning to the comforts of his locked bunk. Mal sighed as he watched his “public relations officer” retreat for more self-enforced solitude, before running a hand through his hair.

“Much as it gorram pains me to admit it, but Jayne may be right. Something definitely pear-shaped about the ‘verse when a man like him can make a lick of sense…”

The grizzled former soldier shook his faintly at this thought, sighed, and headed into the kitchen. Mal took a seat at the table and leaned back in the chair until it was balanced precariously on its hind legs, staring aimlessly at the rafters above his head. It had been in this position that Inara had found the man, arriving just as he had commented to himself about the nature of the ‘Verse. The Companion had missed Mal’s arrival as she had been out of sight in the storage room looking for some bowls to hold all the vegetables Book had harvested from the garden behind his home. After Mal had failed to take notice of here standing several feet behind him by the sink, the younger woman raised a brow faintly and announced her presence.

“Trouble with Jayne, Mal…?”

Mal gave a startled yelp as he tried to jump up from his chair, but only managed to sprawl out on the floor as the chair clattered over backwards beside him. Inara stifled a laugh, covering her mouth slightly as she dried her hands off on a nearby dish towel and headed over to the prostrate man. She crouched down slightly beside him, resting her arms gently on her knees.

“Did you forget planets have a thing called ‘gravity’ again, Mal? Or were you trying to violate that law too?”

“Ha ha…your obvious concern for my well being has touched me, ‘Nara. Please! Don’t rush to help on my account. I can get up myself.”

Mal grunted as he rolled to his knees, then used the oaken table to level him to his feet. Inara smiled at his actions, a soft chuckle escaping her mouth at the sight.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to startle you. So, can we get back to my previous question if you’re done trying to thwart Sir Isaac Newton by proving his theories on gravitational forces incorrect…?”

“A little concern would be nice, ya know. Certainly go on enough about how your job is supposed to be offering comfort and the like.”

“Oh…but I am concerned, Mal.”

Mal started to grin at Inara’s comment, but the gleeful look disappeared when Inara finished her thought.

“I would hate to have to tell Book his kitchen chair was destroyed because you had felt the urge to do a balancing act. Now, about my question concerning Jayne?”

Mal scowled at the Companion, dusting himself off with an exaggerated flourish before answering.

“Well…Jayne just brought up some interestin’ points about somethin’ earlier.”

“Jayne? Interesting?”

“Yes, interestin’. And it’s none of your business, either. What in the name of rabid space monkeys were you doin’ in here anyway? Didn’t you mama ever teach ya about the rudeness of eavesdropping?”

“Actually, she did. And I was not eavesdropping; I happened to be here first. So, you have no right to fuss at me because you don’t think before you speak on matters you want to keep private.”

Mall sputtered like an angry tea kettle at that comment, causing Inara to grin faintly as she flicked a glossy strand of dark hair back over her shoulder before returning her focus to the food. Mal scowled at her back, turning on his heels towards the door and marching out back out of the kitchen. As Mal passed by Zoë, she caught her friend uttering what she thought sounded like a mumbled diatribe against pushy women.

“What was that, sir?”

“Ah…nothing, Zoë. Just talking with myself is all.”

“Decided you’d take River’s place till she gets well again, did you…sir?

“Sure, crew needs a bit of crazy in for the work we do in any case. Kinda miss our little witch’s ramblings.”

“I know what you mean. Never thought we’d get so used to it…how’s she fairing? She still remember nothing?”

“Not a thing from what the Doc says. He’s running tests and what not to see if anything can be done, but…he thinks we might just have to wait a while.”

“Sir? Much as this might sound awful, but…what if this is for the better? I mean, if she can’t remember all that happened while the Alliance had her, she might be more like a normal girl…or as normal as someone who’s brains have been messed with anyway.”

Zoë shifted faintly with her comment, crossing her arms over her chest and watching as Mal sighed in response.

“Jayne said almost the same thing…”

“Jayne said the same thing as who now?”

Wash’s query about Jayne’s thoughts caused the two former soldiers to turn and watch as the pilot approached his wife and captain. Wrapping his arms around Zoë’s waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder and turned his face towards Mal.

“As your wife.”

“Lambytoes? Thinking the same thing as Jayne? Should I be worried here? Has the drinking water been contaminated with something??”

Zoë rolled her eyes at her zhangfu’s antics, chuckling softly at the look of panic he was shooting Mal before kissing his cheek.

“You can relax, bao bei. You’ve got nothing to worry about. We’re just talking about River.”

“Yeah…poor kid. So much stuff has been done to her head, now it’s like…her head’s an Etch-a-Sketch. Got all shook up and now everything’s erased…think the Doc can fix her?”

Mal heaved a sigh and rubbed his jaw aimlessly. A dull throb began behind his eyes, reminding him that he hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since the last job had gone south, the exhaustion congregating in the front of his brain. The pain failed to lessen as he bowed his head to let dark blonde bangs cover the aching organs for a moment; placing his hands on hips lightly, he imperceptibly shook his head before glancing over at his first mate and pilot with a rare look of helplessness.

“…I honestly don’t know.

Stretched out on the diagnostic bed, River stared at the ceiling with frustration in soulful brown eyes as the man who believed himself her brother ran test after test on her. What confused her more wasn’t her inability to recall if the man was lying or not…but her ability to name every tool he used and every test he ran with completely accuracy for some reason. She knew all this things, but how? She sighed, trying to focus her mind as she watched “Simon” pick up her chart from the basket at the foot of the bed and study it once again. Her mind felt…cloudy, uncontrollable. She kept getting the feeling that all the thoughts and feelings that ran through her mind weren’t always hers alone, and that they were piling up one on top of the other as they slowly grew to be more than she could bear right now. She had tried to explain this to the man who claimed he was her sibling, but it always came out confused. His inability to fully understand her just led to more frustration on her part, usually provoking the man who called himself “Simon” to shoot her up with some drug he called a “smoother,” which made her sleep.

River’s only relief came when the Sweet One was with her. Ever smelling of strawberries and engine grease – things that seemingly shouldn’t smell pleasant together – River always felt intoxicated when this young woman came around to visit. For her, the smell meant peace, for the woman who embodied the fragrance often made everyone else leave whenever she visited. Even the stubborn young doctor was not immune to the petite woman’s edicts, allowing the room to be emptied of so many minds. River sighed faintly, her wish for the gentle thinker to arrive soon being interrupted as Simon stuck her with yet another needle, causing her to yelp in pain.

“Stop it! Sick of needles! Treat me like a pincushion and my stuffing will come out! Not an object…”

Simon blinked at the outburst from his sister, surprised at the level of vehemence lacing her voice.

“River…I know the needles hurt, but I have to run these tests to rule everything out.”

“Don’t need tests! Know what’s wrong…stupid not to ask she who is suffering.”

“You know what’s wrong?!?”

“Yes.”

River gave a Simon a look with her last comment, clearly indicating she didn’t think him the brightest bulb in the ‘verse at that moment, leaving him to sputter a bit.

“Well then, what’s wrong?”

“Her head got hurt, brains fell out. Now’s she empty. A whole new person waiting to be full.”

With this assertion, River sighed and laid her head back onto the bed’s padded cushions. Her fingers snaked up to touch the bandages wrapped securely around her skull like an odd hat. As the young psychic once again explore the swaths of pale gauze covering the upper portion of her head, Simon himself sighed in disappointment as the hope River would reveal something…clinical about her injuries faded.

“Don’t make faces; I told you only truths. This is what is wrong. I’m broken.”

“You’re not….you’re not broken, just…a little muddled right now. I’ll make you better.”

“…No, you won’t.”

River looked away with this comment, forcefully pushing his arms away when he tries to comfort here as he was still just a stranger to her now. Simon exhaled softly in frustration, his mind in turmoil. I won’t…I can’t accept that River’s injuries are untreatable! Simon just wished he understood what was going on inside his sister’s abused mind.

It took some persuading, but Book and Kaylee managed to talk Simon into allowing River to come up out of the infirmary after she had been down there for nearly a week. Her wounds were healing nicely, allowing her the ability to move without being in constant pain; this didn’t stop River from calling on some residual training in the back of her mind that permitted her face to remain a mask. She had to squint her eyes as she rode the elevator to the surface, raising a hand to shield her face a bit at the sudden brightness of natural light streaming into the hallway from the rooms bordering the corridor. After reaching the front door, gusts of wind began blowing her already wild brown hair over her face, chocolate brown eyes closing to mere slits faintly as a response to the sunlight. Heading outside slowly, her bare feet took their first steps on the tightly packed dirt surrounding the house; her mind may have been “empty,” according to River herself, but her body had apparently not forgotten the innate grace the young woman had been gifted at birth and that had been honed via childhood ballet lessons…and government interference. It was this fluid elegance that allowed her to appear quietly beside Jayne, watching intently as the large mercenary sat beside the battered ATV and washed off layers of dust and grime caking the faded yellow paint.

“…What are you doing?”

Jayne jumped up as River spoke, tripping over an improperly secured bootlace and falling backwards onto the soap bucket. The pail, sadly not engineered for strains like having a 250+ lb. mercenary fall on it, broke into several large pieces and disgorged its contents all over the ground and Jayne’s cargo pants. Scrambling to recovery what dignity was left after this scene, Jayne swore vividly.

“Duh liou mahng girl! Don’t be doing that! Hwai! I coulda attacked ya if I’d had my weapons!”

River only smirked at the irate man, looking oddly pleased at the reaction her stealthy approach had earned.

“No you wouldn’t…I can tell…you’re scared.”

Failing to elaborate further, River turned away from Jayne and walked off again. Wind whipped at the skirt of her gauze-like blue dress as she walked so that the material wrapped around her legs, contrasting starkly to her pale skin and hugging her in all the right places. River’s tight frame was further emphasized by the tight black shorts she wore underneath her dress, giving the nearby mechanic a rather detailed looked at her friend while Kaylee kept an eye on the teenage assassin-cum-Reader. A faint smile crossed River’s face as watched Kaylee stop near the fence and lightly rest her hands on the weather-beaten wood; face turned towards the wind, the younger woman’s eyes fluttered closed as her untamed mane of hair began whipping around her face again. River’s nose twitched faintly at the familiar scent of fruit and lubricant as it floated with the breeze, causing her head to turn and to look at Kaylee with a relaxed smile. Her senses stretched out by reflex, perceiving that everyone had gone back inside, quieting the air till it reached the house…where it met with the anxious wall of emotion emanating from the former trauma surgeon, who stood on guard at the window and observed both young women.

“You’re lookin’ shiny today, River! Feeling better?”

“Mmmm…yes. My wounds are healing quickly, thanks to the doctor’s care. And my head no longer hurts.”

Kaylee smiled at River’s response, releasing a small chuckle at both River’s rare failure to understand what someone said…and at the younger woman’s sterile reference to her ge-ge.

“Not quite what I meant, sweetie. I meant that you seem to be fairin’ better…calmer and the like.”

River quieted at this comment, chewing on her lower lip a bit as she thought over the observation. Leaning back, the teen’s hands grasped the fence lightly, anchoring her as she tilted her head back to expose her face to the sky. Eyes sliding closed as she let the wind skim over the soft skin of her face, she momentarily focused on how the breeze gave her already wild dark hair a new life as a banner of chocolate-hued ribbons before answering Kaylee.

“Inside…she wasn’t a girl…not like she wanted. She was a patient…a test…out here, she remembers a little. It’s not so…strange now, I think.”

Tilting her head faintly, River looked back over at Kaylee and shifted slightly.

“…Does that make any sense at all?”

“Perfectly.”

Kaylee smiled faintly as she responded to River’s hesitant question, before reaching over on impulse to tuck a loose strand of dark brown hair behind River’s ear lightly, her fingers lingering on the teenager’s cheek for a moment too long. The target of the mechanic’s attention turned her head into the touch gently, her nose nuzzling her friend’s palm with soft caresses as she inhaled the supposedly impossible fragrance and let it calm her nerves. The older girl, realizing she hadn’t pulled her hand back yet, moved it away from River’s face quickly and blushed faintly.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine…your touch doesn’t hurt me.”

River smiled at her gently, moving away from the fence to begin a circuit of the house, quietly studying the building with a level of concentration Kaylee had only seen River use when drawing.

“This is not a home…there is no warmth.”

River crouched down to study something in the yard as her off-hand remark poured out of her mouth almost inaudibly.

“What do ya mean, sweetie? Of course it’s a home…or it was. Shepherd Book grew up here.”

“No children ever frolicked in this earth, ever. It was a place of defense, for secrets. Something was hiding.”

River reached forward, touching a string nestled in the grass that was stretched taunt. Kaylee barely had a chance to pull her friend back as a trap was sprung, a dark scorch mark behind in the grass where the string had been and a hole the size of a needle head burnt into the aged lumber the only evidence of something sinister having occurred. Clutching River tightly to her chest, the mechanic struggled to stabilize her breathing as she stared in shock at the slightly singed tips of several strands of River’s hair.

“It’s not safe here…”

The brunette psychic looked up at her friend with these words, feeling the rapid pounding of the older girl’s heart against her back as the teen remained tightly grasped in Kaylee’s arms. Hearing the slight rasp of her savior’s quickened panting, River shifted and reached up with a slim, delicately pale hand to stroke her friend’s cheek lightly with her fingers.

“But I will protect you…”

Kaylee, startled out of her daze and still bearing a look of confusion, looked down at River and somehow was put at ease by the gentle look in the younger girl’s warm brown eyes. Smiling quietly, the teen rested in her friend’s arms and relaxed her head against the engineer’s shoulder.

I will protect you, my strawberry peace.

“Shepherd! You had best do some fast talking ‘cause I’ve a powerful need to know why my two youngest crew members near got their noses singed off by a laser trap.”

Mal stood before Book, eyes hardened to tight circles of blue-grey flint as the former infantry sergeant crossed his arms over his chest and stared down the frazzled preacher. Book sighed in frustration, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“That trap shouldn’t have even been there…I was SURE I’d disarmed all the booby traps in the yard! But I must have missed one, though it wasn’t my fault.”

“Tyen-sah, Shepherd! I won’t be having any of my crew endin’ up all corpsified because of your family being gorram paranoid when you were growing up here!”

“Sir…? I checked the grounds after Serenity landed. I saw no traps, so the one River tripped must be new…”

Zoë spoke up softly as she stood near the Captain. Her face showing nothing but calm, it was her eyes that were the true sign of the first mate’s feelings on the subject: pits of black obsidian replacing her normal gaze of placid brown. Mal’s hands slowly moved to rest on his hips, his right hand subtly resting on the polished wooden grip of his pistol as he turned to face his close friend.

“New?”

“New, sir.”

Mal shifted his gaze to skewer Book with a look of barely-controlled fury, causing the older man to lift his hands in a defensive pose.

“It was not something I did, Captain. I have been with our young doctor downstairs.”

Mal turned to everyone standing in the room in turn, frowning thoughtfully at the developments that had further added to the pile of complications vying for attention.

“If none of us did it, then we’re not as alone on the planet as we though we were. Someone’s here to get us, it seems.”

“Git us? Then I says we git the gorram hell outta here! Moonbrain ain’t worth getting kilt over, Mal!”

Jayne had barely finished his statement, before sputtering in surprise as Kaylee stood up suddenly and threw her drink in the large man’s face.

“You gorram duh liou mahng, jien tah duh guay are you gonna talk about River that way!”

Kaylee shot the mercenary a look of unadulterated disgust, growling under her breath as she turned to leave the room.

“Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu…buyaolin de dongxi.”

With one final milk-curdling glare, Kaylee – sweet, gentle Kaylee – regarded the sputtering man with utter contempt, before storming outside and heading towards the ship. Jayne’s gaze shifted from the petite woman’s back to the face of the now-growling Captain.

“Ship…bunk…now!”

Jayne swore at Mal’s order, but stood anyway and retreated towards the ship and his bunk. It was then the remaining crewmembers noticed that River had slipped out of the room during Mal’s short confrontation with his recalcitrant gun hand and had followed Kaylee quietly into the ship. Inara glanced after the recovering teen faintly, glad that she had went after their mei-mei since the Companion needed to speak with Mal.

“Mal, you need to calm down! You will not be good to anyone, especially River and Kaylee, as long as you’re wound up like this!”

Inara’s voice was quiet and laced with sympathy, a voice of reason and understanding to counterbalance the older man’s barely-contained fury. However, it was taking all of her Guild training as it was to keep herself visibly composed.

“Inara…just don’t. This is the perfect time for me to be angry like this. In fact, I am well within my gorram rights to be even angrier! Someone has set out to harm my crew, and the pile of hou zi fei hua don’t even have the ruttin’ guts to do it to our faces!”

Mal stormed outside after finishing his outburst at Inara, still fuming from the sheer gall of both the mysterious would-be assassins and his resident courtesan for even daring to think about trying to affect his emotions.

“You hear that?!? You want us?!? Come and fight us like a man, coward! You chou wan ba dan! You buyaolian rutting hundan!”

Fists clenched at his sides and his right hand hovering near his gun ever so slightly, Mal roared his obscene epithets into the empty sky, as if tempting the same Lord who had left him to rot in Serenity Valley to suddenly deliver up the perpetrators of the attempted murder on his youngest crewmember. Turning in a slow circle, blue eyes now paradoxically cold as glaciers but burning with a level of rage that would shame an inferno, the Captain’s ruggedly handsome face slowly began to contort as muscles in his jaw tensed like an overworked hydraulic press and veins bulged grotesquely in his forearms and neck; normally unruly brown hair now laid tousled and golden in the midday sun, blown apart like the mane of a lion on the hunt. It was in this pose of unholy fury that Mal froze, a shiver running through every nerve in his body as the cool firmness of a gun muzzle was firmly pressed into his spine.

“Ask and ye shall receive. You want me, Mr. Malcolm Reynolds, here I am…”

Eyes widening imperceptibly as Mal slowly turned to face the armed speaker.

“You…?!?”

TBC