The Threshold, ff_friday entry
Title: The Threshold
Author: dancing_in_time
Characters/Pairings: Zoë/Wash, River
Rating: PG for angst
Spoilers: Takes place during the end of the BDM, with quotes from various episodes.
Summary: Zoë is having trouble getting over her loss, but receives help from an unlikely source. 911 words.
Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon or anyone affiliated with him. I am doing this purely for entertainment purposes and to give myself a bit of closure.
Comments are love and very welcome! I hope you enjoy!
The bridge was a catastrophe to look at, or even for the crew to think about. Remnants of the windshield lay strewn about the floor and on the consoles, but the pilot’s chair bore no mark of destruction, save a large hole, blood caked around the tattered edges. Just days earlier, the bruised and broken band of Serenity clambered up to the bridge to find it not only sparking amidst the red glow, but also filling with the metallic stench of death.
They found Wash, their beloved pilot, slumped over a giant stake which pinned him to his chair, still strapped in from the crash landing they were forced to endure.
But now, the cockpit was empty and the dead were laid to rest. The only thing left to do was to clean up the ship and make all the necessary repairs, of which Serenity needed many. She had taken a beating and bore all of the scars to prove it.
However, Zoë, despite her strength, couldn’t bring herself to enter the place of her husband’s death. Although he was no longer there and the smell of his lifeless body had aired out, her feet would not cross the threshold and take the next step to letting him go.
She leaned her head on the door and took a couple steadying breaths when she heard the voice. It was muffled through the steel and Zoë had to strain to hear it, but when she recognized the words, her heart stilled.
“A few modifications…get some real maneuverability out of this boat. You’d be surprised.” Zoë gasped and leaned further into the door. Could it really be?
“Who’s flying this thing? Oh, right. That would be me.” But it was a woman’s voice. Not his.
“You want a slinky dress? I can buy you a slinky dress. Captain, can I have money for a slinky dress?” No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
“You and I would make one beautiful baby. And I want to meet that child one day.” Zoë’s hands grasped her regrettably flat belly as she slid down to the floor, her eyes wrenched shut to keep the inevitable tears at bay. The memories of their time together haunted her and she hated it. Wash, her Wash, was gone. There would be no children for the two.
No beautiful baby.
She tried to choke back a sob, but the simple fact that his memory wouldn’t live on in their flesh and blood caused one cursed tear to escape down her cheek.
Zoë didn’t know how long she sat there, but a light knocking from the other side of the door startled her. Hurriedly wiping the tear from her face, she stood up and looked through the porthole. One half of a face looked back at her.
“Oh, River,” Zoë whispered to herself. The girl opened the door and walked swiftly to the pilot’s seat, tucking one leg under herself while grabbing a toy stegosaurus somehow still resting on the console. Zoë watched from outside the threshold as River rotated the dinosaur in her hands. Suddenly, she thrust it out toward Zoë without looking in her direction.
“You’re not one.” River’s voice carried across the short space. Zoë wrinkled her brow in confusion. River looked at her through her dark strands of hair. “And neither is he.”
“What do you mean?” Zoë’s voice came out quieter and rougher than usual.
River stared at her a few moments more before setting the dinosaur back down. She then strode to the doorway and lightly brushed her fingers over Zoë’s cheek. “Vampires. You think since he was killed by a stake, maybe he was a vampire.” Zoë looked away from the bloody chair as the image of Wash’s lifeless body assaulted her memory again. River once again brought her back to the present as she placed her hand over Zoë’s heart. “You were killed by that same stake,” she gestured to the chair with her other hand, “so you think you are a vampire. But vampires are forgotten when they die. The two of you are not.”
Zoë looked at the girl again. It was strange how much sense she made when she spoke. River continued as she walked back into the room, “He’s only dead, not forgotten. If he was forgotten, your heart would not bleed and your eyes would not leak. The same goes for your baby.”
Zoë shook her head. “There is no baby.”
“No, no baby. But you still remember it, despite the fact it never saw light. You cannot grieve what you cannot remember. And you think of this baby very much.” River took the stegosaurus again and walked back to Zoë, handing her the toy when she was within reach. Then River whispered in Zoë’s ear, “We named him Spike.” She smiled pleasantly and then skipped toward the rest of the crew in the belly of the ship, her work done.
Zoë looked down at “Spike” and smiled weakly to herself. She glanced back into the place of devastation, but her smile grew wider as a lone ray of sunshine made its way through the broken glass. She closed her eyes and heard Wash’s voice in the back of her mind from a day so long ago. “…my beloved Zoë, my autumn flower…"
“Spike, this is a beautiful land. And this autumn flower will thrive.”
And with head held slightly lower than normal, Zoë crossed the threshold.
Author: dancing_in_time
Characters/Pairings: Zoë/Wash, River
Rating: PG for angst
Spoilers: Takes place during the end of the BDM, with quotes from various episodes.
Summary: Zoë is having trouble getting over her loss, but receives help from an unlikely source. 911 words.
Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon or anyone affiliated with him. I am doing this purely for entertainment purposes and to give myself a bit of closure.
Comments are love and very welcome! I hope you enjoy!
The bridge was a catastrophe to look at, or even for the crew to think about. Remnants of the windshield lay strewn about the floor and on the consoles, but the pilot’s chair bore no mark of destruction, save a large hole, blood caked around the tattered edges. Just days earlier, the bruised and broken band of Serenity clambered up to the bridge to find it not only sparking amidst the red glow, but also filling with the metallic stench of death.
They found Wash, their beloved pilot, slumped over a giant stake which pinned him to his chair, still strapped in from the crash landing they were forced to endure.
But now, the cockpit was empty and the dead were laid to rest. The only thing left to do was to clean up the ship and make all the necessary repairs, of which Serenity needed many. She had taken a beating and bore all of the scars to prove it.
However, Zoë, despite her strength, couldn’t bring herself to enter the place of her husband’s death. Although he was no longer there and the smell of his lifeless body had aired out, her feet would not cross the threshold and take the next step to letting him go.
She leaned her head on the door and took a couple steadying breaths when she heard the voice. It was muffled through the steel and Zoë had to strain to hear it, but when she recognized the words, her heart stilled.
“A few modifications…get some real maneuverability out of this boat. You’d be surprised.” Zoë gasped and leaned further into the door. Could it really be?
“Who’s flying this thing? Oh, right. That would be me.” But it was a woman’s voice. Not his.
“You want a slinky dress? I can buy you a slinky dress. Captain, can I have money for a slinky dress?” No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
“You and I would make one beautiful baby. And I want to meet that child one day.” Zoë’s hands grasped her regrettably flat belly as she slid down to the floor, her eyes wrenched shut to keep the inevitable tears at bay. The memories of their time together haunted her and she hated it. Wash, her Wash, was gone. There would be no children for the two.
No beautiful baby.
She tried to choke back a sob, but the simple fact that his memory wouldn’t live on in their flesh and blood caused one cursed tear to escape down her cheek.
Zoë didn’t know how long she sat there, but a light knocking from the other side of the door startled her. Hurriedly wiping the tear from her face, she stood up and looked through the porthole. One half of a face looked back at her.
“Oh, River,” Zoë whispered to herself. The girl opened the door and walked swiftly to the pilot’s seat, tucking one leg under herself while grabbing a toy stegosaurus somehow still resting on the console. Zoë watched from outside the threshold as River rotated the dinosaur in her hands. Suddenly, she thrust it out toward Zoë without looking in her direction.
“You’re not one.” River’s voice carried across the short space. Zoë wrinkled her brow in confusion. River looked at her through her dark strands of hair. “And neither is he.”
“What do you mean?” Zoë’s voice came out quieter and rougher than usual.
River stared at her a few moments more before setting the dinosaur back down. She then strode to the doorway and lightly brushed her fingers over Zoë’s cheek. “Vampires. You think since he was killed by a stake, maybe he was a vampire.” Zoë looked away from the bloody chair as the image of Wash’s lifeless body assaulted her memory again. River once again brought her back to the present as she placed her hand over Zoë’s heart. “You were killed by that same stake,” she gestured to the chair with her other hand, “so you think you are a vampire. But vampires are forgotten when they die. The two of you are not.”
Zoë looked at the girl again. It was strange how much sense she made when she spoke. River continued as she walked back into the room, “He’s only dead, not forgotten. If he was forgotten, your heart would not bleed and your eyes would not leak. The same goes for your baby.”
Zoë shook her head. “There is no baby.”
“No, no baby. But you still remember it, despite the fact it never saw light. You cannot grieve what you cannot remember. And you think of this baby very much.” River took the stegosaurus again and walked back to Zoë, handing her the toy when she was within reach. Then River whispered in Zoë’s ear, “We named him Spike.” She smiled pleasantly and then skipped toward the rest of the crew in the belly of the ship, her work done.
Zoë looked down at “Spike” and smiled weakly to herself. She glanced back into the place of devastation, but her smile grew wider as a lone ray of sunshine made its way through the broken glass. She closed her eyes and heard Wash’s voice in the back of her mind from a day so long ago. “…my beloved Zoë, my autumn flower…"
“Spike, this is a beautiful land. And this autumn flower will thrive.”
And with head held slightly lower than normal, Zoë crossed the threshold.