Fic: Resurfacing (River)
Title: Resurfacing
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: River
Prompt: #004 insides
Word Count: 286
Rating: PG
Summary: Her insides squirm about like masses of sea creatures, like octopi, their tentacles all tangled.
Notes: Written for fanfic100. 25/06/12.
Her insides squirm about like masses of sea creatures, like octopi, their tentacles all tangled. She can feel the food she ate pushing at the back of her throat. It’s a solid force, pushing, pushing, wanting back out. Further down, her stomach turns. Something isn’t right.
She keels over, doubles over, face contorted with pain. So much pain. There’s so much of it. It’s too much to bear on her own, too much for her tiny sliver of a body. Her organs all protest and she clenches her teeth. Apple bits coming back up. The pieces wedge in the back of her throat.
Soon, they will resurface. Soon, they will once again feel the air.
Soon.
Sweat has built up on her forehead. She doesn’t bother to wipe it off; it would be no use. More would replace it. More would come and take her away, from this world into another where things look different and feel different and sound different and where she sees things and hears things that aren’t there.
She wants to stay in this world.
And she does, as her stomach gives a final lurch and she empties the contents of her stomach on the bed. Simon’s bed. He’ll be mad. Simon says he won’t be mad when she gets ill, but he always is a little bit mad when she’s sick on his bed.
She should wipe her eyes and her mouth and drink deep to purify her insides. But her stomach lurches again and she knows it won’t stop, won’t stop, won’t... not just yet.
Maybe soon. But for now she must let it out.
Her insides twist and turn and tangle.
Her insides find their way to the outside.
fin.
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: River
Prompt: #004 insides
Word Count: 286
Rating: PG
Summary: Her insides squirm about like masses of sea creatures, like octopi, their tentacles all tangled.
Notes: Written for fanfic100. 25/06/12.
Her insides squirm about like masses of sea creatures, like octopi, their tentacles all tangled. She can feel the food she ate pushing at the back of her throat. It’s a solid force, pushing, pushing, wanting back out. Further down, her stomach turns. Something isn’t right.
She keels over, doubles over, face contorted with pain. So much pain. There’s so much of it. It’s too much to bear on her own, too much for her tiny sliver of a body. Her organs all protest and she clenches her teeth. Apple bits coming back up. The pieces wedge in the back of her throat.
Soon, they will resurface. Soon, they will once again feel the air.
Soon.
Sweat has built up on her forehead. She doesn’t bother to wipe it off; it would be no use. More would replace it. More would come and take her away, from this world into another where things look different and feel different and sound different and where she sees things and hears things that aren’t there.
She wants to stay in this world.
And she does, as her stomach gives a final lurch and she empties the contents of her stomach on the bed. Simon’s bed. He’ll be mad. Simon says he won’t be mad when she gets ill, but he always is a little bit mad when she’s sick on his bed.
She should wipe her eyes and her mouth and drink deep to purify her insides. But her stomach lurches again and she knows it won’t stop, won’t stop, won’t... not just yet.
Maybe soon. But for now she must let it out.
Her insides twist and turn and tangle.
Her insides find their way to the outside.
fin.