A Beautiful Gift Ch 1 - Escape of the Gyrfalcons
Okay, here is Chapter One of A Beautiful Gift, my healer!Simon/Mal fic. Notes explaining...well...basically explaining River are at the bottom. Feel free to give concrit or to point out any spelling or grammar mistakes. I poured over this thing looking for them but as I worked on it all night and it's now 9am, I probably missed something.
In case you missed it, this is not the first part of this story. Check the links below for the links to the prologue and interlude one.
Title: A Beautiful Gift
Author: alydhe
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Warnings: dub con, angst, evil alliance, sort of mind control
Summary: Simon's ability to heal people runs deeper than most believe. The Alliance discovered this and now he has to find a way to save both himself and River. How will the story change when Simon is barely hanging on to the threads of his sanity?
Prologue Interlude One: Two of a Kind
A Beautiful Gift
Chapter One:
Escape of the Gyrfalcons
Simon grunted lowly as the man behind him thrust into him again, causing his head to smack against the wall he was braced against. The burn was unimaginable and seemingly never ending. But then, it always was. He had nothing to ease the way besides what little saliva Donovan had spit into his own hand to spread on his erection. Security would notice if one of their guards suddenly started packing lube in with his tranq gun and baton so, as always, he simply had to fake enjoyment. It was easier this time since his ‘lover’ couldn’t see his face.
“S-Simon!” The wet gasp behind tickled the back of his neck and then a sweaty forehead was resting against his skin. Simon grimaced first in distaste at the feeling and then in further pain as the thrusts picked up speed. He allowed his mind to drift when it became bad enough that he was having trouble keeping a pained whimper in.
Donovan was 21, working as a low level security guard in the Alliance “Academy”. For two years he’d been bringing Simon his food every day, three times a day. Simon hadn’t paid much attention to him at first, was incapable of it with the haze of madness that had cushioned him from the horror that had become his life.
He’d been so excited to come here, he recalled. He hadn’t wanted to be parted from River but he had wanted to study medicine. They promised they would teach him to help people. He should have remembered.
Grownups are stupid.
Grownups Lie.
But he’d only been 15 and terribly bored with the college courses he was taking. Everything was too easy. Biology, chemistry, languages, fencing, dancing, music, botany, all of it came as easily to him as breathing and, to his eternal pride, for River even more so. Then the Alliance Academy had sent the intro packet and while the test questions hadn’t been hard at least they weren’t boringly easy. So he’d gone, hoping for new challenges and praying it would be good enough that River would be tempted to join him when their parents finally agreed to let her graduate.
There had been classes, in the beginning. They weren’t very challenging but he was learning things that interested him. He’d been born with an instinctual understanding of healing but his gift had been very limited, he could only heal relatively small things and then only so long as his energy held out. He’d loved learning how to heal manually and had been secretly trying to find a way augment it with his gift. The only bad part had been the other students. When they purposely bumped or shoved or hit him he’d felt it, like poison beneath their skins the jealousy and malice had bubbled over with each touch, burning him inside. He’d started wearing long sleeve shirts and gloves all the time, just so he wouldn’t make contact.
The doctors that talked to him every month never touched him so he didn’t see until too late the web they had built around him with their lies and promises. Subtle questions about why he dressed the way he did or why he didn’t associate with the other students began to fill the sessions, easing him into revealing his secret. They made him feel dissatisfied with the way his studies were going and with the way he was treated. He leaped at the chance when they offered him the chance at more ‘exclusive’ learning. He’d signed his name to the permission form with a song in his heart.
Then came the ‘vitamin supplements’ that made him sick and sore and the scans of his brain at all hours of the day and night. Slowly he stopped being allowed to see anyone but guards and doctors and cameras and cold, cold steel. He’d begged to be sent back to regular classes and to see his sister but to no avail.
Then they’d stopped being subtle.
He was being woken in the middle of the night only to be sedated for surgeries he only vaguely remembered and given drug cocktails that left him screaming for days. Hours and hours were spent strapped down to a chair and physically plugged into a computer that downloaded tactics, instructions, and schematics straight into his brain, shoving the unwanted knowledge with sharp edges and agonizing content inside him until he thought he’d shatter from being so full of hurt.
It was too much. Too much. He couldn’t take it.
So he drifted, drifted away where he didn’t have to think about it when they asked him to use his gift to manipulate someone’s emotions, to break a bone with a brush of fingers on skin and a flex of his mind, to rearrange a person’s motivations and personality. To heal patients that were steadily closer and closer to the edge of death.
Of course, that was until River came. That day, a year ago, when he’d heard her desperately calling his name outside of the interview room he’d known he couldn’t afford the luxury of madness, any longer. River had been his everything from the moment she was born, the one safe thought he could turn to in the night when the pain and mental screams were so bad he wanted to die. The thought that they had her was too much.
In that moment, something happened that before had been deemed impossible. He’d healed himself. Not physically, mind you, as far as he knew that was still beyond him, but mentally. He wasn’t sure if it was his desperation or River’s own gift boosting his or even just the sheer amount of psi talent housed in that one compound. Whatever had caused it, he was able to heal his mind enough to be just on the stable side of sane. He wouldn’t pass one of the doctors’ many psych evals, but he didn’t have to.
He just needed to be able to plan.
And so he began his great charade. He made the doctors believe he’d reached a plateau in his development. They were kept occupied trying to figure out why their new treatments weren’t working to notice. They didn’t know what he’d become, what they’d created in him.
And so the day came that he was able to take advantage of the blushing attraction Simon knew Private Donovan James held for him. The next time the private brought his breakfast he’d made sure their hands brushed, and then he’d reached for that feeling… and twisted.
Slowly, touch after touch, meal after meal, day after day, he’d changed the man. Attraction turned to lust turned to caring, turned to love, turned to devotion, turned to obsession.
River wasn’t happy about it, he knew. She didn’t like the pain he put himself through or the shame and self-disgust that coated his mind. Disapproval was draped over every word as she whispered secrets in his mind from six cells over. This guard could be bribed to keep others away from his cell for a half hour, that corner held a blind spot for fucking and whispered conversations. Saying this in that way would make the young guard come to the conclusion they wanted him to.
Slowly, slowly, the plan came to fruition.
A choked groan was breathed into his hair and a slimy wetness filled his insides. Small, delicate kisses were rained over Simon’s shoulders as the man pulled out. Finally, it was over. Simon put on a satisfied smile and turned to embrace his lover.
“Simon, my Simon. Just a few more days, baby. Penn says they are ready to bust us out. All they needed was that last bit of money I borrowed from my cousin. Soon they’ll come and get us and we’ll take your sister and go to the Rim and live together, forever. They won’t touch us there and it’ll be just us. My baby, my Simon.”
Simon kissed him softly, shushing the possessive rambling and making Donovan close his adoring eyes in bliss. The whispers were too soft for the audio equipment to pick up from this corner but sometimes Donovan’s obsession overcame him and he became less cautious. Simon certainly didn’t want to chance someone over hearing. He already knew all the details, anyway. They’d been planning this for months.
Slowly, reluctantly, Donovan pulled away and both began to pull on their clothes. The man watching the cameras agreed to not mention anything for a handful of moments each week in exchange for a small payment and being allowed to watch the feed but his shift was ending soon. They couldn’t be caught now, not so close to freedom.
Once the guard was gone, Simon allowed himself to drop, carefully, onto his mattress. They’d taken the bed frame after he’d broken off a piece of the wood in an attempt to slit his wrists years earlier. He dropped into an exhausted and sore sleep as River whispered softly in his mind of fairytales about a king and the dark goshawk who protected him in their floating aviary. The words slipped into dreams with him and he peacefully watched the scenes play out.
----------
*It’s tea time, Simon. The door mouse is running and blue and white will run red if the tea is steeped to long.* River’s urgent whispers in his mind woke him from a fitful sleep three days later. It only took a moment for the meaning to seep in.
It was time. Quickly, Simon hopped out of bed and went to stand ready next to the door.
*Does anyone suspect?* He thought to his sister, hoping he hadn’t gone so far in the twisting of Donovan’s mind that obsession over ruled common sense when they were so close.
*The door mouse is anxious, but the cat is away. Softly he sings of the sweets he’ll eat but dogs pay never mind to singing mice. Nasty, nasty mouse, not a cake but a gyrfalcon he gnaws, blood and bone and pain. The king will not be pleased.*
Translation: Donovan was anxious but not giving himself, or them, away and River still didn’t approve of all that he’d had to do to get them out. As for the king, he had no idea. She’d taken to calling them both gyrfalcons and nightingales for several months, now, but he’d thought it and the stuff about the king and his aviary had been stories made up to ease him into sleep, just as she’d done when they were children. He didn’t know why she was bringing it up now. If it’s something she’s Seeing then hopefully she’d warn him if they get too close to being caught. He had no desire to serve any but themselves ever again.
*It’s okay, River. It’ll all be over soon and then we can just be together. I won’t let anyone control us, ever again.*
When her ‘voice’ came again it was soft and gentle, *Wings are broken. Throats cut, Simon. Gyrfalcons and nightingales unfulfilled, crippled. We need the king, Simon. He who loves the sky loves those who fly in it. We can fly for him, can sing for him. He’ll shelter us in his aviary and mend our broken bits.*
It left him unsettled, the talk of this king. He didn’t want to be a weapon anymore and he wouldn’t be. Not for the Alliance and not for a king. He wouldn’t let either of them be used, anymore. They couldn’t trust anyone but each other.
He started to reply but was cut off at the sound of the door opening. Donovan’s face peered anxiously into the room.
“Simon, come on. We need to get your sister and get to the ventilation shaft of level 3.”
Quickly, Simon took the hand offered him and stepped out of the room. It was at that moment that all the lights suddenly went out, the emergency lights alone lighting their way to River’s cell as they ran.
“We have a half hour to get out. They’ll all assume it’s a power outage, at first, but they’ll probably figure out something’s up, pretty quick. We have to hurry.”
Simon didn’t reply, simply waited impatiently as they came to a stop outside of River’s door and Donovan inserted a machine into the port below the keypad. The pad lit up immediately and numbers began appearing on the screen. A click sounded too loud in the dark hallway and then the door was open and all three were running for the stairs.
“Hey! Stop!” The shout behind them sent a new surge of adrenaline flowing through him and he heard River’s mental shout to duck just in time for a tranq dart to go whizzing over his head.
“Run!” He shouted and grabbed River’s hand as they scrambled to the open door leading up. He shoved River through first and was barely through himself when he heard the clangs of two darts hitting the door. Donovan pulled it shut violently and plugged the device in long enough to lock it.
The three raced as quickly as they could up the flight of steps. Simon was praying that the staff hadn’t gained enough control of their communications to be able to warn the guards in the floor above.
God was apparently listening since there was no one waiting for them when they flung themselves out of the stairwell and into the hall on level 3. Donovan pointed to their left, down the dark corridor.
“I removed the screws on the panel earlier, they’ll have cut a hole in the roof by now and have a lift waiting for us.”
Simon nodded and they took off again, he and River were breathing hard and struggling to keep going. They had been locked inside small cells and drugged to the gills for a long time, now. They hadn’t had real exercise in so long their muscles had long since grown unused to physical exertions. Only the daily injections they’d been given had kept their muscles from atrophying too badly.
Finally they reached the grate and Simon waited impatiently as Donovan yanked it off. They could hear yelling now coming from the staircase they’d just come from, the guards were catching up. All the same, Simon stopped Donovan from pushing him onto the platform revealed in the shaft.
“Simon? Come on, we have to go. They’ll be here any minute.” Green eyes were puzzled and panicked, unsure as to why Simon was hesitating now when all they needed was to take one more step.
River stared soulfully at her brother before shaking her head at the young private, “Time to go. Dirty mousey touched a jewel, scratched it. Smudged it. Little thief must pay the price. A hand is not enough.”
Simon leaned in and Donovan abandoned his confusion for a moment. He was obviously impatient but Simon’s gift had done its work and he couldn’t resist a kiss. For a moment, the man leaned in to it, enjoying the wet heat of his beloved.
Simon reached inside, to that crucial part that he’d always tried to carefully tend on his patients. Gently, he touched it, that little golden ball of life. He only half-noticed the gasp the other man made as something deep inside himself was stimulated. The man had no time to react further, however, as Simon suddenly reached and grabbed at the gold. It bunched in his hands like so much fabric and then he pulled. With surprising speed, the gold unraveled and soared up, through their connected lips into Simon.
Gasping and shuddering, Simon doubled over from the overwhelming feeling of life and death that filled him to the brim. He only vaguely heard the thump of the body in front of him hitting the floor.
“Come, Simon. The dogs will tear and bite us!” River’s panicked words forced him to look up. Sure enough, the door at the end of the hall burst open and a dozen guards poured out. River quickly helped him stumble through the vent opening and onto the platform, her small hand smacking the button that would send the message to pull them up. She and her brother knelt, clutching each other desperately as they ascended. Darts pinged uselessly against the bottom of the platform and the guards below cursed into their useless radios.
Two men, one tall and red-headed, the other fat and balding, were waiting on the deck of the cargo bay as the platform finished settling into place and the ship that had been waiting for them took off. The red-head frowned at them before motioning his companion to help him in getting the two refugees up.
“I’m Jason Penn this is Wei Chin. Where is Donovan James? He was supposed to come up with you.”
Simon’s body was racked with shudders still as the man pulled one of his arms around his neck and began to walk him towards a door at the far end of the cargo bay. The fat man had simply picked up his slight sister and was carrying her along. Finally he managed to stutter out, “He f-f-fell. B-bullet.”
The man helping him sighed and shook his head. “Shit. Well, he knew it could happen. The job's been payed for already and we got the information we needed so don’t worry about us fulfilling our end of the bargain. As agreed, we’ll get you some supplies, the nest egg Donovan left for you, the cryo box, and a trip to Persephone. After that, I’m afraid; you’re on your own.”
Simon stuttered out an affirmative and lay down as directed on the infirmary bed they’d directed him to. River was carefully laid out on another beside him. He could feel her beginning to panic when the medics descended on them and quickly reached over to clasp her reaching hand. Gently, he smoothed over her fright, layering a small amount of the gold life force he’d stolen over her frazzled emotions. She slowly calmed, focusing inward on the shine of it as it began to heal a bit of the damage done to her body during her year of captivity. He carefully focused his own consciousness on hers, creating a feedback that kept them both sane long enough to be sedated.
As darkness began to settle in, Simon’s last thoughts were that he had to keep it together. For River, he had to keep it together…
NOTES:
(1) The king, his dark goshawk, and the flying aviary - I’m sure you recognize who and what River is referring to here. A goshawk is a bird used in falconry that is very fierce and protective of its territory and it’s eggs. I thought it fitting for a certain king’s protector and it fits in with the idea of the aviary.
(2) Gyrfalcon - Another bird of prey used in falconry. The gyrfalcon is a bird used only by kings, it is a bird only a king is worthy of. River believes they are both gyrfalcons because whoever they chose to follow not only must be worthy enough of them but that person will gain a significant advantage.
(3) Nightingale - to River, whomever they use their gifts for is the person they will ‘sing’ for. Thus, she refers to them as both because she sees them flying forth, singing with their gifts, for someone very special and very worthy, the only one who can heal them. Three guesses for who and the first two don’t count.
(4) Blue and white will run red - You may have already caught it, but this, along with the mentions of tea, door mice, and cats are all Alice in Wonderland references. River is warning Simon that if they don’t get out quick the plan is going to fall apart and someone is gonna die.
(5) Lord, but I hope I handled River, alright. She’s a little more stable, right now, because of Simon’s mental influence over her emotions and the stress of the situation forcing her to focus. Both of them are going to have some serious problems keeping it together in the future. Simon due to the sheer amount of time he was under Alliance control and the experiments that occurred during that time. River because of the experimentation and, especially, because of the overwhelming nature of her gifts. Simon’s is mostly touch based, but for River, contact isn’t necessary.
In case you missed it, this is not the first part of this story. Check the links below for the links to the prologue and interlude one.
Title: A Beautiful Gift
Author: alydhe
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Warnings: dub con, angst, evil alliance, sort of mind control
Summary: Simon's ability to heal people runs deeper than most believe. The Alliance discovered this and now he has to find a way to save both himself and River. How will the story change when Simon is barely hanging on to the threads of his sanity?
Prologue Interlude One: Two of a Kind
A Beautiful Gift
Chapter One:
Escape of the Gyrfalcons
Simon grunted lowly as the man behind him thrust into him again, causing his head to smack against the wall he was braced against. The burn was unimaginable and seemingly never ending. But then, it always was. He had nothing to ease the way besides what little saliva Donovan had spit into his own hand to spread on his erection. Security would notice if one of their guards suddenly started packing lube in with his tranq gun and baton so, as always, he simply had to fake enjoyment. It was easier this time since his ‘lover’ couldn’t see his face.
“S-Simon!” The wet gasp behind tickled the back of his neck and then a sweaty forehead was resting against his skin. Simon grimaced first in distaste at the feeling and then in further pain as the thrusts picked up speed. He allowed his mind to drift when it became bad enough that he was having trouble keeping a pained whimper in.
Donovan was 21, working as a low level security guard in the Alliance “Academy”. For two years he’d been bringing Simon his food every day, three times a day. Simon hadn’t paid much attention to him at first, was incapable of it with the haze of madness that had cushioned him from the horror that had become his life.
He’d been so excited to come here, he recalled. He hadn’t wanted to be parted from River but he had wanted to study medicine. They promised they would teach him to help people. He should have remembered.
Grownups are stupid.
Grownups Lie.
But he’d only been 15 and terribly bored with the college courses he was taking. Everything was too easy. Biology, chemistry, languages, fencing, dancing, music, botany, all of it came as easily to him as breathing and, to his eternal pride, for River even more so. Then the Alliance Academy had sent the intro packet and while the test questions hadn’t been hard at least they weren’t boringly easy. So he’d gone, hoping for new challenges and praying it would be good enough that River would be tempted to join him when their parents finally agreed to let her graduate.
There had been classes, in the beginning. They weren’t very challenging but he was learning things that interested him. He’d been born with an instinctual understanding of healing but his gift had been very limited, he could only heal relatively small things and then only so long as his energy held out. He’d loved learning how to heal manually and had been secretly trying to find a way augment it with his gift. The only bad part had been the other students. When they purposely bumped or shoved or hit him he’d felt it, like poison beneath their skins the jealousy and malice had bubbled over with each touch, burning him inside. He’d started wearing long sleeve shirts and gloves all the time, just so he wouldn’t make contact.
The doctors that talked to him every month never touched him so he didn’t see until too late the web they had built around him with their lies and promises. Subtle questions about why he dressed the way he did or why he didn’t associate with the other students began to fill the sessions, easing him into revealing his secret. They made him feel dissatisfied with the way his studies were going and with the way he was treated. He leaped at the chance when they offered him the chance at more ‘exclusive’ learning. He’d signed his name to the permission form with a song in his heart.
Then came the ‘vitamin supplements’ that made him sick and sore and the scans of his brain at all hours of the day and night. Slowly he stopped being allowed to see anyone but guards and doctors and cameras and cold, cold steel. He’d begged to be sent back to regular classes and to see his sister but to no avail.
Then they’d stopped being subtle.
He was being woken in the middle of the night only to be sedated for surgeries he only vaguely remembered and given drug cocktails that left him screaming for days. Hours and hours were spent strapped down to a chair and physically plugged into a computer that downloaded tactics, instructions, and schematics straight into his brain, shoving the unwanted knowledge with sharp edges and agonizing content inside him until he thought he’d shatter from being so full of hurt.
It was too much. Too much. He couldn’t take it.
So he drifted, drifted away where he didn’t have to think about it when they asked him to use his gift to manipulate someone’s emotions, to break a bone with a brush of fingers on skin and a flex of his mind, to rearrange a person’s motivations and personality. To heal patients that were steadily closer and closer to the edge of death.
Of course, that was until River came. That day, a year ago, when he’d heard her desperately calling his name outside of the interview room he’d known he couldn’t afford the luxury of madness, any longer. River had been his everything from the moment she was born, the one safe thought he could turn to in the night when the pain and mental screams were so bad he wanted to die. The thought that they had her was too much.
In that moment, something happened that before had been deemed impossible. He’d healed himself. Not physically, mind you, as far as he knew that was still beyond him, but mentally. He wasn’t sure if it was his desperation or River’s own gift boosting his or even just the sheer amount of psi talent housed in that one compound. Whatever had caused it, he was able to heal his mind enough to be just on the stable side of sane. He wouldn’t pass one of the doctors’ many psych evals, but he didn’t have to.
He just needed to be able to plan.
And so he began his great charade. He made the doctors believe he’d reached a plateau in his development. They were kept occupied trying to figure out why their new treatments weren’t working to notice. They didn’t know what he’d become, what they’d created in him.
And so the day came that he was able to take advantage of the blushing attraction Simon knew Private Donovan James held for him. The next time the private brought his breakfast he’d made sure their hands brushed, and then he’d reached for that feeling… and twisted.
Slowly, touch after touch, meal after meal, day after day, he’d changed the man. Attraction turned to lust turned to caring, turned to love, turned to devotion, turned to obsession.
River wasn’t happy about it, he knew. She didn’t like the pain he put himself through or the shame and self-disgust that coated his mind. Disapproval was draped over every word as she whispered secrets in his mind from six cells over. This guard could be bribed to keep others away from his cell for a half hour, that corner held a blind spot for fucking and whispered conversations. Saying this in that way would make the young guard come to the conclusion they wanted him to.
Slowly, slowly, the plan came to fruition.
A choked groan was breathed into his hair and a slimy wetness filled his insides. Small, delicate kisses were rained over Simon’s shoulders as the man pulled out. Finally, it was over. Simon put on a satisfied smile and turned to embrace his lover.
“Simon, my Simon. Just a few more days, baby. Penn says they are ready to bust us out. All they needed was that last bit of money I borrowed from my cousin. Soon they’ll come and get us and we’ll take your sister and go to the Rim and live together, forever. They won’t touch us there and it’ll be just us. My baby, my Simon.”
Simon kissed him softly, shushing the possessive rambling and making Donovan close his adoring eyes in bliss. The whispers were too soft for the audio equipment to pick up from this corner but sometimes Donovan’s obsession overcame him and he became less cautious. Simon certainly didn’t want to chance someone over hearing. He already knew all the details, anyway. They’d been planning this for months.
Slowly, reluctantly, Donovan pulled away and both began to pull on their clothes. The man watching the cameras agreed to not mention anything for a handful of moments each week in exchange for a small payment and being allowed to watch the feed but his shift was ending soon. They couldn’t be caught now, not so close to freedom.
Once the guard was gone, Simon allowed himself to drop, carefully, onto his mattress. They’d taken the bed frame after he’d broken off a piece of the wood in an attempt to slit his wrists years earlier. He dropped into an exhausted and sore sleep as River whispered softly in his mind of fairytales about a king and the dark goshawk who protected him in their floating aviary. The words slipped into dreams with him and he peacefully watched the scenes play out.
----------
*It’s tea time, Simon. The door mouse is running and blue and white will run red if the tea is steeped to long.* River’s urgent whispers in his mind woke him from a fitful sleep three days later. It only took a moment for the meaning to seep in.
It was time. Quickly, Simon hopped out of bed and went to stand ready next to the door.
*Does anyone suspect?* He thought to his sister, hoping he hadn’t gone so far in the twisting of Donovan’s mind that obsession over ruled common sense when they were so close.
*The door mouse is anxious, but the cat is away. Softly he sings of the sweets he’ll eat but dogs pay never mind to singing mice. Nasty, nasty mouse, not a cake but a gyrfalcon he gnaws, blood and bone and pain. The king will not be pleased.*
Translation: Donovan was anxious but not giving himself, or them, away and River still didn’t approve of all that he’d had to do to get them out. As for the king, he had no idea. She’d taken to calling them both gyrfalcons and nightingales for several months, now, but he’d thought it and the stuff about the king and his aviary had been stories made up to ease him into sleep, just as she’d done when they were children. He didn’t know why she was bringing it up now. If it’s something she’s Seeing then hopefully she’d warn him if they get too close to being caught. He had no desire to serve any but themselves ever again.
*It’s okay, River. It’ll all be over soon and then we can just be together. I won’t let anyone control us, ever again.*
When her ‘voice’ came again it was soft and gentle, *Wings are broken. Throats cut, Simon. Gyrfalcons and nightingales unfulfilled, crippled. We need the king, Simon. He who loves the sky loves those who fly in it. We can fly for him, can sing for him. He’ll shelter us in his aviary and mend our broken bits.*
It left him unsettled, the talk of this king. He didn’t want to be a weapon anymore and he wouldn’t be. Not for the Alliance and not for a king. He wouldn’t let either of them be used, anymore. They couldn’t trust anyone but each other.
He started to reply but was cut off at the sound of the door opening. Donovan’s face peered anxiously into the room.
“Simon, come on. We need to get your sister and get to the ventilation shaft of level 3.”
Quickly, Simon took the hand offered him and stepped out of the room. It was at that moment that all the lights suddenly went out, the emergency lights alone lighting their way to River’s cell as they ran.
“We have a half hour to get out. They’ll all assume it’s a power outage, at first, but they’ll probably figure out something’s up, pretty quick. We have to hurry.”
Simon didn’t reply, simply waited impatiently as they came to a stop outside of River’s door and Donovan inserted a machine into the port below the keypad. The pad lit up immediately and numbers began appearing on the screen. A click sounded too loud in the dark hallway and then the door was open and all three were running for the stairs.
“Hey! Stop!” The shout behind them sent a new surge of adrenaline flowing through him and he heard River’s mental shout to duck just in time for a tranq dart to go whizzing over his head.
“Run!” He shouted and grabbed River’s hand as they scrambled to the open door leading up. He shoved River through first and was barely through himself when he heard the clangs of two darts hitting the door. Donovan pulled it shut violently and plugged the device in long enough to lock it.
The three raced as quickly as they could up the flight of steps. Simon was praying that the staff hadn’t gained enough control of their communications to be able to warn the guards in the floor above.
God was apparently listening since there was no one waiting for them when they flung themselves out of the stairwell and into the hall on level 3. Donovan pointed to their left, down the dark corridor.
“I removed the screws on the panel earlier, they’ll have cut a hole in the roof by now and have a lift waiting for us.”
Simon nodded and they took off again, he and River were breathing hard and struggling to keep going. They had been locked inside small cells and drugged to the gills for a long time, now. They hadn’t had real exercise in so long their muscles had long since grown unused to physical exertions. Only the daily injections they’d been given had kept their muscles from atrophying too badly.
Finally they reached the grate and Simon waited impatiently as Donovan yanked it off. They could hear yelling now coming from the staircase they’d just come from, the guards were catching up. All the same, Simon stopped Donovan from pushing him onto the platform revealed in the shaft.
“Simon? Come on, we have to go. They’ll be here any minute.” Green eyes were puzzled and panicked, unsure as to why Simon was hesitating now when all they needed was to take one more step.
River stared soulfully at her brother before shaking her head at the young private, “Time to go. Dirty mousey touched a jewel, scratched it. Smudged it. Little thief must pay the price. A hand is not enough.”
Simon leaned in and Donovan abandoned his confusion for a moment. He was obviously impatient but Simon’s gift had done its work and he couldn’t resist a kiss. For a moment, the man leaned in to it, enjoying the wet heat of his beloved.
Simon reached inside, to that crucial part that he’d always tried to carefully tend on his patients. Gently, he touched it, that little golden ball of life. He only half-noticed the gasp the other man made as something deep inside himself was stimulated. The man had no time to react further, however, as Simon suddenly reached and grabbed at the gold. It bunched in his hands like so much fabric and then he pulled. With surprising speed, the gold unraveled and soared up, through their connected lips into Simon.
Gasping and shuddering, Simon doubled over from the overwhelming feeling of life and death that filled him to the brim. He only vaguely heard the thump of the body in front of him hitting the floor.
“Come, Simon. The dogs will tear and bite us!” River’s panicked words forced him to look up. Sure enough, the door at the end of the hall burst open and a dozen guards poured out. River quickly helped him stumble through the vent opening and onto the platform, her small hand smacking the button that would send the message to pull them up. She and her brother knelt, clutching each other desperately as they ascended. Darts pinged uselessly against the bottom of the platform and the guards below cursed into their useless radios.
Two men, one tall and red-headed, the other fat and balding, were waiting on the deck of the cargo bay as the platform finished settling into place and the ship that had been waiting for them took off. The red-head frowned at them before motioning his companion to help him in getting the two refugees up.
“I’m Jason Penn this is Wei Chin. Where is Donovan James? He was supposed to come up with you.”
Simon’s body was racked with shudders still as the man pulled one of his arms around his neck and began to walk him towards a door at the far end of the cargo bay. The fat man had simply picked up his slight sister and was carrying her along. Finally he managed to stutter out, “He f-f-fell. B-bullet.”
The man helping him sighed and shook his head. “Shit. Well, he knew it could happen. The job's been payed for already and we got the information we needed so don’t worry about us fulfilling our end of the bargain. As agreed, we’ll get you some supplies, the nest egg Donovan left for you, the cryo box, and a trip to Persephone. After that, I’m afraid; you’re on your own.”
Simon stuttered out an affirmative and lay down as directed on the infirmary bed they’d directed him to. River was carefully laid out on another beside him. He could feel her beginning to panic when the medics descended on them and quickly reached over to clasp her reaching hand. Gently, he smoothed over her fright, layering a small amount of the gold life force he’d stolen over her frazzled emotions. She slowly calmed, focusing inward on the shine of it as it began to heal a bit of the damage done to her body during her year of captivity. He carefully focused his own consciousness on hers, creating a feedback that kept them both sane long enough to be sedated.
As darkness began to settle in, Simon’s last thoughts were that he had to keep it together. For River, he had to keep it together…
NOTES:
(1) The king, his dark goshawk, and the flying aviary - I’m sure you recognize who and what River is referring to here. A goshawk is a bird used in falconry that is very fierce and protective of its territory and it’s eggs. I thought it fitting for a certain king’s protector and it fits in with the idea of the aviary.
(2) Gyrfalcon - Another bird of prey used in falconry. The gyrfalcon is a bird used only by kings, it is a bird only a king is worthy of. River believes they are both gyrfalcons because whoever they chose to follow not only must be worthy enough of them but that person will gain a significant advantage.
(3) Nightingale - to River, whomever they use their gifts for is the person they will ‘sing’ for. Thus, she refers to them as both because she sees them flying forth, singing with their gifts, for someone very special and very worthy, the only one who can heal them. Three guesses for who and the first two don’t count.
(4) Blue and white will run red - You may have already caught it, but this, along with the mentions of tea, door mice, and cats are all Alice in Wonderland references. River is warning Simon that if they don’t get out quick the plan is going to fall apart and someone is gonna die.
(5) Lord, but I hope I handled River, alright. She’s a little more stable, right now, because of Simon’s mental influence over her emotions and the stress of the situation forcing her to focus. Both of them are going to have some serious problems keeping it together in the future. Simon due to the sheer amount of time he was under Alliance control and the experiments that occurred during that time. River because of the experimentation and, especially, because of the overwhelming nature of her gifts. Simon’s is mostly touch based, but for River, contact isn’t necessary.