Title: Deltas Author: Ana Sedai Rating: PG Character(s): Mal, River, Simon Prompt: 064 - Ocean Word Count: 830 A/N: I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this! Does it still count as a songfic if you went looking for a song to match your story, instead of writing the story to fit the song?

In any case, this is the tenth story in my incessantly-delayed Mal/River Joss100 series.

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Like a flower that has blossomed In this dry and barren sand We are born and born again most gracefully Plus the winds of time will take us With a sure and steady hand When the river meets the sea

In school, River had learned that there were places called deltas that formed when a river had run its course and met the ocean. The silt that the river had carried along with it spread out and made new land. This new land, originally only mud that dirtied up a river, was now a fertile place for things to live on. The ocean had given it space to grow, and had allowed ugliness to become a source of beauty and life. It was a fragile source, of course. Storms could rage and blow, washing away the life that had been created. But if the river was persistent, it could retain its peaceful haven.

She needed that haven now.

“So what you’re tellin’ me Doc, is that there’s nothing you can do?” Mal’s question came out a bit more irate than he’d intended, and River felt him gather the somewhat frayed edges of his temper closer together.

She, Mal, and Simon were gathered in the infirmary. After the previous night’s incident, Mal had insisted that she talk to Simon first thing. He was more incensed over this new intrusion into her head than she was. His concern warmed and steadied her. The voices were quieter now, but she could still feel their malice buzzing at the back of her brain. She drew her knees up to her chest on the exam chair.

Simon raised his eyebrows at Mal’s outburst, then sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I can give her a smoother, of course…” River quickly snapped her head towards her brother, who gave her a rueful look. “But I don’t think you want to be drugged anymore. I’m not sure it would stop what you’re…hearing, anyway. They didn’t exactly cover this sort of thing in school.” He was frustrated, and she didn’t need her Reading ability to see that. Out of ideas, he gently asked, “River, is there anything that makes what you’re hearing not be so loud?”

Mal’s face flashed before her, and she glanced over to him. Simon followed her gaze, and his eyes narrowed a bit. Before he could say anything, River hastily tried to explain. “Gives me room to spread out, Simon. Makes me feel safe.” Her tone pleaded with Simon to accept. “The dragons will leave soon, but I need space to fight. Please understand.”

Simon felt very reluctant. Mal felt a bit surprised, but he was pleased too, and maybe that was what he was surprised about. Seeing Simon’s hesitation, he decided reason might be the best tactic. “Doctor, believe me, I wish there was somethin’ that could fix this, but since there doesn’t seem to be, your sister’s got to fight this battle her own self. If bein’ around me helps her with that, then I don’t see the problem.” He grinned at her. “Besides, there’s still a thing or two you need to learn about flying, ‘specially if you want to be the new getaway driver. With Badger, we’ll more’n likely need one.”

She smiled back at Mal, and felt Simon give in. Anything, or anyone, that made her smile like that was worth at least a trial run. (She decided not to mention that she’d been asking for his blessing, not his permission.) Sighing again, he pushed his reservations to the side for now. “Alright, but if anything…” he glared at Mal for an instant “gets to be too much, you tell me, okay?” She nodded, and Simon headed for the door. He gave Mal an even look. “Anything unusual happens, you tell me the second it occurs.”

Mal cocked an eyebrow and all-too-politely said he’d be the first to know. Simon snorted and left the room, muttering to himself.

River hopped off the chair and stood at Mal’s side. The buzzing was more muted, and she felt lighter than she had since the night before. Looking up at him, she said, “Thank you for helping my mud become life. I can grow now.”

He seemed embarrassed at her gratitude. A bit gruffly, he told her, “Weren’t no trouble. Need to keep an eye on my albatross, right?”

She tilted her head to the side. A few weeks ago, she’d tried to tell him that what they each had was exactly what the other needed. He hadn’t listened. Was he ready now, when he hadn’t been before? She took a chance. “Help you grow, too. You’re not empty, not barren; just need something to nourish you.”

He blinked at that. He opened his mouth, a wry retort on the tip of his tongue, but then he stopped. His eyes became serious. “Maybe so, little Albatross. Maybe so.”

It was a start.