Didn't do it last time so let's give it a go here! No copywrite infringement intended!

I watched Star Wars last night so forgive me for a very obvious reference to it at the end! *cough* ;)

Oh, and please read and review! I know my writing isn't that good but reviews help :D

***

A familiar sweet smell invaded River’s senses, irritating her nose. She sneezed violently, rolling onto her side and abruptly onto the floor. Her head ached, whether due to the sneeze or the bump she’d received on hitting the wooden floorboards she wasn’t sure. However, as her eyes adjusted to the poor light, a cold fear seized her body. She was home. Trembling, River dislodged a squashed doll from under her thigh, gripping it tightly in two hands. Familiar rough fabric, asymmetrical bunches, picked at stitching. The smell was sweet. Mother’s perfume? No, the scent was corrupted. Memory playing tricks. Her body felt like a lead weight, a force was pushing her down and it was only with great effort that River managed to drag herself up from the floor. Room was smaller. Physically impossible. Roof threatened to fall and crush her. There were familiar pictures on the walls, many of them hand drawn of Russian dolls. A paper tiger dangled from the ceiling; River stared entranced at the craftsmanship, beautifully creased, no ruffled paper. Perfect lines. A light came on outside her room; a small slit shot through her room and cast shadows as it hit the shapes of other toys that littered the floor. Disorganised. So many memories, so many smells. River twitched, covering her eyes with her hands. Outside she knew people were moving. They were intersecting the light, voices like interference, buzzing in her head. “…wriggle and wriggle, you won’t stay still…” A voice dipped and slowed, the sound corrupted by high pitched squealing and odd bleeping. Notes were missing, the music was not harmonious. Boldly River moved towards the door, her hand drifted down and touched the doorknob, but it moved of its own volition and the door flew open, banging on its hinges. “wriggle and wriggle, you won’t stay still…stopping and starting…it’ll make you ill…” There was no one outside, just an empty corridor. This was her hallway, her house. Shadows came from nowhere, muttering and cursing, crossing her every so often, blotting out the light that came from a small lamp on a side table. Quietly River crept along, every step sending chills up her body from the balls of her feet. The light flickered. Heart skipped a beat. Then a cold wind shot past her and swept the light out along with it. River was plunged into darkness. “Simon?” It was her voice. Where? Simon’s room. “Don’t look in the closet, it’s cheating!” Jubilant laughter came from behind a door a few steps away from hers. However, as she dashed over to it, she saw there to be no doorknob. “Who’s there?” River leapt back as three mighty thumps came from the inside, accompanied by the sound of manic scratching. “River? River? Come…mei mei.” Eyes wide, River stepped back and tripped over the edge of a rug, and was sent tumbling over to the edge of the stairs. Laughter cruelly taunted her, second only to the loud sound of thumping she recognised to be the panicked beat of her heart. She surveyed the stairs; another light was cutting through the darkness below. Sounds of cutlery being clinked together. Muffled talking. “…River Tam.” She froze. There were noises coming from her bedroom. People moving about. Smell of metal, copper. She tasted it in her mouth and it made her gag. Bit pushing her tongue down, forcing sickly medicines down her dry throat. The doorknob turned. River ran. Everything was so silent here; the noises of the upstairs were immediately cut off as her foot touched the final stair. A lone light pulsed and barely illuminated the area; River could only just make out the path in front of her. Somehow everything here was alien to her. Memory was not functioning properly, things meshed together. There were artificial flowers on the hallstand, but Mother had thrown them out years ago and replaced them with a basket full of small painted eggs that, right now, was sitting right next to the vase. A picture of Father hung on the wall but River vividly remembered Simon breaking that whilst they were playing, he’d pounced on her whilst she was attempting to hide behind a huge pot plant (that now was no where to be seen) and bashed the wall too hard, causing it to drop to the floor and shatter. Glass now littered the floor. The way was not clear but it didn’t matter. None of the doors that way had handles. Not for opening. The sweet smell was still in the air, River recognised it to be pine. A soft, unobtrusive aroma that promised warmth and safety. The door to the living area clicked open so she quietly glided over and peeked in. It was Christmas time. A beautifully pruned tree stood proudly against the wall, although it was bare now River felt an excited smile tug at the corners of her mouth. The touch of tinsel and cold smoothness of baubles, the softness of the angel’s hair and dress as she was placed atop the tree. No presents yet. River glanced behind her, the closet beneath the stairs promised surprises. The door in front of her promptly snapped shut, almost taking River’s fingers with it. Laughter again emanated from inside the room. Sounds of whispers, yes, it was mocking laughter. Cold. River shook and felt the familiar taste of metal taint her saliva. Her hair now clung to her face as she began to sweat, cold shivers racked her body. Another click. The door under the stairs swung open. Now there were sounds of people coming down the stairs, a light was now swinging back and forth, awakening the shadows. Footsteps made the floorboards squeak, yet as River looked back down the hallway there was nothing. Emptiness. Whispers. Shadows. “…River?” A voice came from inside the closet. “Simon?” She whispered. The light suddenly became brighter; the footsteps picked up and now sounded as if they were running towards her, thumping down the stairs. Panicked, River dashed into the blackness of the closet, scrabbling madly at the door in an attempt to close it. Someone was pulling from the other side; the doorknob was coming lose in her hands. There was the rattling of tools, scratching and twisting, the squeal of metal on metal. The door flew open. A boy stared back. He opened his mouth and an inhuman sound came out, a high-pitched squeal that cut straight through her. He dropped a spanner and a lock pick he’d been holding and took two steps towards her. As the noise built River fell to her knees, feeling hands grasping her from behind. She was pulled back into the dark.

***

Simon rubbed his eyes, his vision temporarily blurring. River’s condition had stabilised, he’d brought her back shortly after her heart had stopped. Her pale face haunted him now, it was her yet, somehow, it wasn’t. She wasn’t in the infirmary with him. He ran his hands over her nose and cheek; she was so cold, if the machines behind him weren’t registering a steady heartbeat and brain activity he swore that she could easily be mistaken for dead. A husk. His darling sister. “Doc?” Mal wasn’t accustomed to having to hover, it was his ship after all, but something told him that marching in on the doctor right now wouldn’t be the best move. Walking in on Inara talking to clients was different. Or so he rationalised it. “Is she gone?” Simon asked, eyes not straying from his sister’s face. She twitched, eyelids fluttering. “Dang-ran, I said I’d check the ship myself, didn’t I?” He stared at the girl on the table. “You find out what she did?” “No. Nothing. I’ve done everything,” Simon pressed his fingers hard against his temples, shutting his eyes, trying to maintain some degree of control. “She's comatose yet I can't see any evidence of trauma...” He sucked in breath between clenched teeth and opened his eyes again, glancing back to the readout. “There’s been no change and I’m so frustrated…I can’t…” Mal crossed his arms and looked down on the pale figure. “I ain’t one to give reassurance to a doctor but you’ve done us all well since you’ve been here and I’ve no reason to believe that you’re gonna fail us now.” He didn’t meet Simon’s gaze, rousing speeches weren’t exactly his forte, not since the War anyway. More than one got young men and women killed. So instead he strode back towards the door. “We’re breaking atmo in a few minutes, I’m takin’ Zoe, Jayne and the Preacher to pick up our cargo. Nows the time to ask for any supplies, dong ma?” Simon nodded weakly, as Mal left he bent down to his sister’s level. “River? River? Come back mei mei.” He covered his eyes again with his hand, feeling his eyes grow wet. “River.”

***

Dust and dirt. Vile. Got into every orifice. Made waiting ten times more difficult. Why’d he have to get this gui of a planet? If he’d known pre deployment he might have tried to bargain with Caden, swap assignments. Then again, he was flying right on the skirts of Reaver territory. Knowing Caden he probably found it exciting. Lot shifted uncomfortably from under the tarpaulin. It was getting hotter as the day wore on and coupled with the close proximity he was to hoards of other people things were getting very unpleasant. Noise, mindless noise. Food, water, heat, crowds, the top four things rolling around in their empty heads. Wait, no, food, water, heat, crowds, whores. That was about right. Mongrels. All this would remain in his head, however. Mind on the mission. He tousled his black hair, dropping for a moment a small duffle bag he had been holding. The strap was dark with sweat; beads were now dripping from his forehead. Foolish move. Should have stuck behind one of the congregated iron shelters. At least there would be shadows in which he could hide. “…Firefly class, something...Serenity” Lot straightened. There it was. Closing his eyes, he strained to hear. Somewhere amidst the bewildered herd was the person he was looking for; someone had seen a Firefly class ship. Hurriedly he grabbed his bag and ducked out from beneath the tarpaulin. At full height he was still of quite short stature, he looked younger than he was and unfortunately stood out amongst the mercenaries, painted women and rough smugglers that roamed Persephone’s ports. Someone here was thinking about the ship he was after. He tried to look nonchalant but he’d never been in such a horrid environment before and, as a result, his manner was unconvincing and he stood out like a sore thumb. He glanced over as a woman approached him, breaking off from a group of men. “You alright little man? Lost your parents?” She wasn’t the one he was looking for. No, in fact she was a child smugger. The men she was with were muttering and staring over in her direction, minds racing with images. In a crate nearby they had three ‘lost’ children all slumbering away, ready to be shipped off to a slave market. Lot stared over at them unflinchingly. They weren’t thinking about a Firefly class ship either. “Sorry what did you say?” Lot answered, smiling sweetly. The woman took a step back, face amass with confusion. “Did you just see a boy here?” Lot nodded his head. “Saw him dash off, headed away from the settlements.” He waved a finger in a random direction and the men behind her moved off. She smiled back, curtseyed, then melted away. “Stupid xi niu whore” he muttered, slipping back behind a poorly erected tent. He’d gotten lucky. Serenity was here, now he just had to find it.