New Story: With Soaking Dresses and Doctors in Messes

Feb 06, 2009 00:15

Firefly angst fic, unfinished
Rayne, sort of

Simon is worried.

Simon is always worried, though, Jayne muses, and nothing about this particular incident seems worthy of inspiring more than his usual amount of fretting.

“River won’t come out,” he says, wringing his hands anxiously. “She’s been in there for… for hours.”

Jayne does not know why he is being told, except perhaps, the doctor has exhausted all other options. The door to the washroom is locked and River is in there doing only-she-knows-what or perhaps she doesn’t know what and they can all hear the water running off and on and Simon is starting to sweat, his tired, drooping blue eyes skittishly flying from the door to the far wall and back again.

“So? Am I s’posed to care?”

Simon shakes his head quickly, trying to ingratiate himself with the large man. “I… N-no, you don’t have to care, Jayne, but…” He runs a hand through his hair nervously, looking from the floor to Jayne to the door. He sighs and then looks back up at Jayne - his eyes are dark and pleading. “She won’t come out.”

Jayne rolls his eyes. He does not want to deal with the Tams or their problems; he does not even want to think about them, especially after River’s recent bout of odd behavior. He’d been trying to avoid her for a week but it looked like finally interaction was inevitable.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d planned it that way.

“So what? Y’want me to break down the door?”

Simon’s eyes slide nervously to his right, down the corridor towards the bunks - and, Jayne suspects, towards Mal. “I… C-could you? I’ll pay for the damages, naturally, b-but I just… I don’t know what she’s doing in there. She hasn’t been very well lately and… I hear the water…”

Jayne exhales, feeling annoyed with the whole ‘verse - and the man in front of him specifically. “So y’think she’s drownin’. Why the hell would the girl want to drown ‘erself?”

“I don’t know, Jayne,” Simon spits out. “She… She’s not sane! I don’t know what she’s thinking. He looks again at the door, gnawing on his bottom lip in apprehension. “I need to make sure she’s all right.”

Jayne is starting to get angry and that, he knows, will end well for no one. He pushes Simon out of the way and stomps angrily over to the washroom door. “Hey,” he cries out, jiggling the handle. “Hey, girl you in here? Well get the hell out, your brother’s ‘bout to have himself a heart attack.”

There is a high-pitched, girlish giggle from inside the room. “Jayne?” River’s voice asks.

“Yeah,” he growls, “it’s me. Now open the ruttin’ door.”

She giggles again. “But I am floating. There is a River in a river. And all the little fishies swim to welcome, smiling jaws.”

“Yeah, sure you’re floatin’. Look, moonbrain, I ain’t about to sit here all gorram day tryin’ to coax your crazy ass outta there. So you turn that water off and jus’… come out. Now.”

“Purification.” Her voice has a vague, dreamlike quality and Jayne scowls, knowing that means she’s probably thinking less clearly than usual. “The waters run, run, run - but the girl cannot come out until the bath is done. Ritual,” she tells him. “This time is sacred.”

“What the hell is that s’posed to mean?” The question is loud and addressed to River, but Jayne looks to Simon when he asks it. The doctor shakes his head in ignorance, shrugging helplessly at his little sister’s strange proclamations. “I’m givin’ you ‘til the count o’ ten.”

“The waters bore her up and they will carry her away.”

“One…”

“The king is in his counting house. Counting - he’s counting!”

“Two…”

“Fasten the clasp of my podiatric aide.”

Jayne growls, tightening his hold on the cool, metal handle of the door. “Three…”

“Not too hot and not too cold. Ursa major eats the porridge that will be just right.”

“Gorrammit girl, I can’t take it!” He pulls with all his strength and the door wrenches open. He steps into the bathroom, clicking the now-broken door shut behind him. “I’m here,” he says, his voice as calm as he can pitch it. Inside he is roiling with blistering anger.

River is lying in a tub of gray metal. It is three-quarters full of water and she is fully clothed. Her eyes are closed and her hands are folded neatly at her breast. Jayne starts, worried for half a moment that the girl is dead.

“Baptism,” she says suddenly, her eyes still closed. “They put me under and draw me out again, suddenly made anew.” She turns her head and slowly her eyes open; she looks at him and smiles softly. “Now the girl will be acceptable for you.”

-TBC-

~~~

That's what I have so far. Just wrote it (literally, all of it), so it has not yet even been read through. I will continue soon.

-ILB

incomplete, angst, firefly, one-shot, rayne, written early-09

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