A/N: This one was inspired by a scene in the last episode of The Inside, another short lived tv show featuring Adam Baldwin. It made me think of River so of course I turned it into a creepy, angsty fic. It was written with River/Jayne in mind but it's not particularly shippy, so if you ignore the one mention of a goatee, you can pretty much imagine the guy to be whoever the heck you want.

WARNING: Explicit description of eyeballs being punctured. Best not read the second to last paragraph if you're squeamish. Also includes shirtless-ness and implied nudity.

A River Turned to Dust

She felt a hand slide around her waist and up her belly to rest over her heart. It was a familiar hand, calluses rough against her smooth skin; nearly large enough to span her waist with fingers spread and comforting in its weight. She could feel him swallowing against the back of her head before he spoke, his voice the smooth velvety growl she only heard when he was half out of dreamland. "Why aren’t ya asleep?"

"I sleep so much." She replied. Her voice was small and nearly lost in their tangle of sheets and bodies and limbs. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. She blinked, trying to clear away the darkness before realizing the lights were off. She placed her hand over his. "It’s so hard to tell when I’m dreaming and when I’m not."

"Well, can’t argue with that." He said sleepily, though she wasn’t sure what it was he couldn’t argue over. His thumb rubbed comforting circles against her breastbone like he always did after any one of her numerous nightmares. "But I know I’m awake right now, so that means yer awake too."

"You could just be dreaming that you’re awake and you’re actually talking to yourself in your sleep." She reasoned, snuggling back into the curve of his body. Feeling her shiver, he clicked his tongue like a mother hen and pulled the blankets tighter around them. His arms were warm bands pressing her protectively against his chest. She frowned. Something was off. The sheets were smoother and colder than they should be. She stroked them, feeling them slide over vinyl beneath her shaking fingertip. The mattress should have been covered in canvas.

"I’m hallucinating." She said, clutching the sheet in her hand when realization dawned. "Did Simon give me something?"

"Nah, yer just scared. Why’re ya scared?" He asked. She thought about his question for a minute.

"Sometimes I feel like I’m going to disappear." She admitted. It helped that it was dark and he couldn’t see the tears pooling in her eyes. He was never any good with weeping women. "Melt away into Serenity. Like when Jubal came, only for real this time."

The world wavered for a moment, the bed rolling beneath her, stars flying across her vision. Fear constricted her heart making her clutch at his hand. "Don’t let me disappear."

"You ain’t gonna disappear, I’m right here and I ain’t gonna let you go nowhere." He turned her around to face him and kissed her gently in the center of her forehead, his goatee like cotton against her skin. "Why would ya disappear?"

"I can’t feel myself." She combed her fingers through the hair on his chest. He’d never admit it because he was a little ticklish but he liked it when she did that. Sometimes she made him giggle like a girl. "I go looking through my head and try to find the parts that are me but they’re gone. It feels like they were turned to dust and slipped through my hands, like I’m going to turn into dust and slip through your hands. A river turned to dust."

"No one’s turned anythin' to dust. You just have to relax." He sighed. "Don’t think about anything, just breathe."

She buried her head against his chest. Some days, after a deal gone bad the sharp smell of gunpowder would cling to him but today only the lonely wisps of rusty metal and engine grease blended with the masculine scent tickling her nose. Scent usually helped anchor her in the here and now but this time, her fingers kept slipping off the edge. When was here and where was now? The world wavered again, bright lights and shadowy faces flashing across her vision, a sinister voice echoing in her ears. She grasped at his shoulders, trying to keep herself in his reality.

"I’m scared." She whispered, not really sure who she was speaking to, the man in her eyes or the man in her arms.

"Who are you scared of?" he asked gently, his voice melding with that of another simultaneously demanding, "Who are you dreaming of?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on the familiar low growl but it was already fading away, consumed by the cold tones of the shadowy face. She gasped at the pricks of pain that burrowed into her forehead, trying to find her third eye. Her hands reached for warm, solid muscle and instead found hard plastic in its place. Living strength became cold metal fingers, grasping at her eyelids, pulling them open, forcing her to see the light glinting off the needles menacing her eyeballs. A slight resistance, then give as they pierced her corneas and darkness when it pushed through the lens before sliding through the vitreous gel to rest against her optic nerves.

She couldn’t see him but she could feel him looming over her. "Now tell us, River Tam, who were you dreaming of?"

Her only response was a scream.