(no subject)
River had no idea how many days had passed since she'd woken up in a bed that was cold despite the return of the island's tropical weather. It still didn't seem quite real to her that Mal could be gone. Other people had left, everyone it sometimes seemed, but never him. No matter what might have happened on the island, he'd always been home for her, a solid place of safety and happiness. She didn't know what to do or how to be without him, and she didn't even really want to try.
It was only Zoe that kept her moving at all. If she hadn't needed to be fed, River wouldn't have eaten, and if she hadn't had to sleep, River wouldn't have managed to doze in what had been her own bed in her own room, long ago before she'd taken to sleeping in the Captain's quarters and even longer before it had become Zoe's room. She couldn't go into the room she'd shared with him now, not by herself. She knew she didn't get to have that life anymore, but she couldn't deal with the truth of it yet.
River was a mess, alternating between utter despair and cold rage both at the island and at herself, for believing she could have anything like a normal life, and the baby was fussier than usual, missing her "Da"; they both cried whenever she asked for him and he wasn't there. In the hope of a distraction for Zoe, even though she knew there would be none for herself, River had taken her and Simon Chicago outside to play. There, not far from Serenity, they'd found boxes with their names on them, gifts from the island that made River even angrier. She only wanted the simple happy life the island had given her and then taken away; no gift was an acceptable replacement.
For Zoe's sake she swallowed down her fury, though she planned to smash the fine porcelain tea set in the box with her name on it into dust as soon as possible unless she thought of a reason to keep it. Zoe's gift was a large container of interlocking plastic blocks, larger than the Legos Jim Lennox had told her about, before he'd disappeared too. The blocks were designed for small hands, but Zoe wasn't quite coordinated enough to put them together by herself yet. So River listlessly put together towers for Zoe to tear apart until she fell asleep, curled up with Simon Chicago on his new large round dog bed that was shaped like an old-fashioned flying saucer.
River just sat on the blanket in the sand and stared into space, only numbly aware of the baby and the dog and anything else around her.
[It's been a few days, so feel free to let your pup already know.]
It was only Zoe that kept her moving at all. If she hadn't needed to be fed, River wouldn't have eaten, and if she hadn't had to sleep, River wouldn't have managed to doze in what had been her own bed in her own room, long ago before she'd taken to sleeping in the Captain's quarters and even longer before it had become Zoe's room. She couldn't go into the room she'd shared with him now, not by herself. She knew she didn't get to have that life anymore, but she couldn't deal with the truth of it yet.
River was a mess, alternating between utter despair and cold rage both at the island and at herself, for believing she could have anything like a normal life, and the baby was fussier than usual, missing her "Da"; they both cried whenever she asked for him and he wasn't there. In the hope of a distraction for Zoe, even though she knew there would be none for herself, River had taken her and Simon Chicago outside to play. There, not far from Serenity, they'd found boxes with their names on them, gifts from the island that made River even angrier. She only wanted the simple happy life the island had given her and then taken away; no gift was an acceptable replacement.
For Zoe's sake she swallowed down her fury, though she planned to smash the fine porcelain tea set in the box with her name on it into dust as soon as possible unless she thought of a reason to keep it. Zoe's gift was a large container of interlocking plastic blocks, larger than the Legos Jim Lennox had told her about, before he'd disappeared too. The blocks were designed for small hands, but Zoe wasn't quite coordinated enough to put them together by herself yet. So River listlessly put together towers for Zoe to tear apart until she fell asleep, curled up with Simon Chicago on his new large round dog bed that was shaped like an old-fashioned flying saucer.
River just sat on the blanket in the sand and stared into space, only numbly aware of the baby and the dog and anything else around her.
[It's been a few days, so feel free to let your pup already know.]