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Entry tags:
F: Lost
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Mal/Simon, Mal/River
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Mal's lost the ways he had of comforting them. Timeline here.
Mal knew when it happened that the next few days'd be awkward -- days, weeks, months. Hopefully not years. It's been a week now and the awkwardness hasn't retreated the slightest bit. He still doesn't know what to say to Simon, doesn't know what'll excuse him and doesn't know if he should say it if he finds it. And River's worse. Where once she'd've had words for him -- things to say, words to help him, her skinny arms to hold him and somehow hold back the flood-tide of emotion threatenin' to drown him -- now she won't even speak to him at all. Not even to tell him to leave her alone.
He's watchin' Simon watchin' River, and watchin' all the pain in the doc's eyes. He wants to take it away. He was good at that, once, in an awkward way, able to wrap his arms 'round Simon and hold him tight, close -- safe, he'd said, and Mal had nodded because safe was the way he wanted both Tams, always. And now his own damn indiscretion --
But that train of thought never helps, never has and never will. He just has to find the words. Or the actions. Whatever works.
For now, he watches Simon, wanting to take his pain away, as Simon watches River, and wants to take her pain away, and as River draws something, a tangle of black and red and orange, her hair all in her face and the tears probably sliding down her cheeks behind that. Mal wants to take her in his arms and let her cry, or catch her and bring her close to him and make her smile, make her laugh...
Zoe stands at the door, watchin' them. Mal knows she'll know, she always knows, but before she can even clear her throat River makes this little noise, like she's hurt.
Simon is movin' almost before he thinks, and then somethin' changes in his face -- something breaks, and Mal breaks with it -- and he turns away, turns on his heel and leaves the room with only a hitch in his breath revealin' how he hurts. River flings the paper from her -- scribbled over now, ruined, a mess, and she cries.
And somehow Mal can't move to comfort either o' them.
Pairing: Mal/Simon, Mal/River
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Mal's lost the ways he had of comforting them. Timeline here.
Mal knew when it happened that the next few days'd be awkward -- days, weeks, months. Hopefully not years. It's been a week now and the awkwardness hasn't retreated the slightest bit. He still doesn't know what to say to Simon, doesn't know what'll excuse him and doesn't know if he should say it if he finds it. And River's worse. Where once she'd've had words for him -- things to say, words to help him, her skinny arms to hold him and somehow hold back the flood-tide of emotion threatenin' to drown him -- now she won't even speak to him at all. Not even to tell him to leave her alone.
He's watchin' Simon watchin' River, and watchin' all the pain in the doc's eyes. He wants to take it away. He was good at that, once, in an awkward way, able to wrap his arms 'round Simon and hold him tight, close -- safe, he'd said, and Mal had nodded because safe was the way he wanted both Tams, always. And now his own damn indiscretion --
But that train of thought never helps, never has and never will. He just has to find the words. Or the actions. Whatever works.
For now, he watches Simon, wanting to take his pain away, as Simon watches River, and wants to take her pain away, and as River draws something, a tangle of black and red and orange, her hair all in her face and the tears probably sliding down her cheeks behind that. Mal wants to take her in his arms and let her cry, or catch her and bring her close to him and make her smile, make her laugh...
Zoe stands at the door, watchin' them. Mal knows she'll know, she always knows, but before she can even clear her throat River makes this little noise, like she's hurt.
Simon is movin' almost before he thinks, and then somethin' changes in his face -- something breaks, and Mal breaks with it -- and he turns away, turns on his heel and leaves the room with only a hitch in his breath revealin' how he hurts. River flings the paper from her -- scribbled over now, ruined, a mess, and she cries.
And somehow Mal can't move to comfort either o' them.
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Also, shall be linking your fics over on Mal/River probably today or tomorrow. :D So be expecting feedback in your near future.
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