Author's Notes: My very first completed and posted fanfic ever, in any fandom! I'm so proud! (Be kind!) Usually, I think of these sorts of fanfic as a cop-out, a way to get out of actually creating a plot....And then I found out how fun they are. And how satisfying; putting oneself inside one character's head is somehow immensely gratifying. Enjoy!

She Had Them

Not much ocean between planets. Rivers are for crossing, oceans for braving. River’s brave too. Flitting up and away, through steel and space, laughing at his consternation. Wasn’t anything he could have done, ‘cause she had him. Him and his roar and his intimidation, she had him, the whole time and nobody knew. Nobody but her and Serenity, the her that wasn’t quite her but seemed like it most of the time. Bare feet on deckplates merged and melted, cooling into smooth, rough, riveted self. Easy to look out then, at the great, howling black that they all feared. Much easier than strapping into that suit, tethering herself to herself and listening to Simon’s breathing, heavy with worry. Not worth it when she could just sink into the hum of engines and laughter and stare out unending, unblinking.

She had him, her and serenity. Nothing he could do, every movement, every protest as inconsequential as a gnat’s wings beating to the great void that claimed him. No air to carry the vibration, the buzz, no sound, no protest. Checkmate. And Simon, of course always mucking things up. Well no. She (they) shouldn’t think things like that. Without him, she wouldn’t have even the fleeting moments of lucidity that she did. She should blame him for that. The times when she wasn’t herself, couldn’t find every last bolt in the engine and float into the computers, because of those liquids he pumped into her with astonishing frequency. But no, without those poisons marching through her blood, they wouldn’t be so real. Everyone else, so astoundingly real.

When she melted into the belly of this, their mother, the one thing sheltering them, cradling them from the danger of the airless black outside, she couldn’t see. Couldn’t feel the slickness of salty sweat over Kaylee’s brow, the softness of Simon’s hair, still clean even after months out here, the piercing relief of pain from Jayne’s knuckles, bleeding and scarred from yet more punching. Couldn’t smell the dark scent of white musk from Inara’s shuttle or the sharp pungency of Shepherd’s herbs. Couldn’t see the bright spark that lit Wash’s eyes in soaring flight, the eerily similar light in Zoe’s face when she looked at him. Without the smoothers, cutters, the pinch of the needle, she missed the soft smile that sometimes smoothed the captain’s face when she did something crazy enough to be endearing but not crazy enough to endanger. Without them she didn’t see the exact way his eyes narrowed with his protective instinct, the way they sparkled blue and green when things went smooth. And things never went smooth if she didn’t submit to the tests and the prodding and the bloodletting. So the cool comfort of Serenity’s hull and the glaring beauty of the black were a small sacrifice to the gods that lived and breathed and ate and bickered inside her. Because she wanted things to go smooth. For them. Because she had them too.