Title: Brother

Rating: G (or VF, for very fluffy)

Characters: River, Abram Reynolds (oc), Mal/Inara

Summary: River's perspective on the birth of Abram Derrial Reynolds.

Author's Note: I'm working on a longer, more plot-based PC story, but this came to me while working on Hell Raising. I'm very nervous about my post-Miranda River, so be gentle but critical, please. Like Hell Raising, it's a little Abram-centric. FYI for new readers, the other Pirate Children stories can be found here: Pirate Children http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3109850/1/ Hell Raising http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3157631/1/

This takes place chronologically long before them.

One with the one shot...

River doesn’t understand why everyone is surprised. Even if she hadn’t literally seen it coming, the news is in no way shocking. He’s already a father, to River, to the crew. Protection. Guidance. Discipline. And she’s the crew’s mother, always has been. Warmth. Comfort. Love. Oh, they fight all the time. But that’s what parents do, and they were the parents to this family long before they were together. So River is confused. Why shouldn’t Mommy and Daddy be married? Why shouldn’t they have a baby of their own? They are already great parents, and River knows the baby will be well loved. “It’s a boy,” River tells Inara, weeks before Simon can determine sex. They’re in the common area, Inara on the couch, River on the floor leaning against the couch. Kaylee is on the other side of the room, on the floor, playing blocks with one-year-old Leila Lee and two-year-old Killian. “He’ll be healthy. Strong. Extremely bright. Like Daddy. Yours and his. You’ll give him a good name.” River is twenty now, healing slowly. Calm more of the time, most of the time. A playful aunt to Killian and Leila Lee, a co-pilot for the ship, and Serenity’s resident psychic. She also has taken to spending more time with Mal, and therefore Inara, as Simon courted Kaylee, married her, and made pretty little Leila Lee. Simon needs time apart. She thinks of Inara and Mal as Mommy and Daddy in her head, but rarely says it out loud. She’s excited to have a little brother: she knows that she and he will get along very well. “And what name is that, River?” Inara asks with a smile, brushing River’s hair while watching Killian topple the latest creation with a belly laugh. “Can’t tell. That’s cheating. But you’ll think of the perfect name.” “I think Malcolm, Jr. sounds perfect,” the captain asserts, having overheard the last part of the conversation. There’s a bounce in his step, in his thoughts, that makes River smile. Inara pauses in her brushing, raising an eyebrow and looking to River. River, twisting up to look at Inara, makes a face and shakes her head. “I didn’t think so.” “What if it’s not a boy, Cap’n?” Kaylee asks, having missed River and Inara’s conversation. “Still a fine name,” Mal responds, teasing grin directed at Inara. “Is a boy,” River clarifies. “Hear that, Leila Lee? You’re gonna be outnumbered,” Kaylee says, tickling her little girl’s toes and earning a laugh. “Is it then?” Mal grins, “Sure about that, Lil’ Albatross?” River makes another face. “Sorry,” Mal apologizes, still smiling. “Huh. Always thought I’d have a little girl.” “Nope,” River says, mimicking his accent. She doesn’t tell him what else she sees. “Brat,” Mal teases. He turns his attention to Inara. “How you feelin’?” She smiles reassuringly. “Good for now.” “Hasn’t puked since this morning,” River informs him. “Thank you, River,” Inara deadpans. “So, a boy, huh?” “That’s what River says.” “What are ya thinkin’ on that?” “Well, guessing what you were like as a child, I must say I’m a little nervous.” They’re happy, inwardly and outwardly, and that makes River smile. But there are also other things. Mommy’s worried, scared: she never expected to be a mama, to carry a little one inside her, raise a baby into an adult. Daddy’s worried, scared: it’s hard enough to do his job while worrying about his niece and nephew, now his son will be added to the ranks of the helpless he must protect. And now he’ll worry even more about Inara, his wife. That last part still knocks his socks off, one week into it. The ‘verse has been too good to him these last two years; he is still waiting for the Black to open up and take everything away from him.

***

Abram Derrial Reynolds is born twenty-seven weeks later, to the day. Serenity is parked on Persephone, in case of emergency, but the little boy is brought into the world in the ship’s infirmary, like his cousins before him. River helps; she’s good at that. And after Abram’s been cleaned up and introduced to the crew, after he’s been cuddled by his mama and daddy, who now are asleep in the infirmary, River picks the infant up and cradles him in her arms, sitting on the couch just a moment’s reach away from the infirmary. She can feel his little brain growing more quickly by the moment, even as he sleeps nuzzled against her chest. She can tell he’s different: an intellect above even Simon’s, an empathy above Inara’s. She can see his future: a wild, playful little boy, a strong, smart man. Just brushes of it, of a smile resembling his mother’s turning from impish to understanding as the years pass, of the frustration of being a child whose linguistic skills can’t keep up with his thoughts, can’t express what he feels and knows. She remembers that from her own life as well, and though River knows that Abram is no reader, no genius, he will face similar problems. She sees the younger sister who will change his life, whose fate is so intertwined with his. She tells no one of her, though, just smiles as Abram is declared the last child of Serenity, stashes a few extra of Leila Lee’s outgrown clothes so that they’re not scrapped to make other things, but does it so no one notices. They’ll wonder where all those clothes came from in the future. His thoughts aren’t really thoughts, exactly. More impressions, flashes of that warm body that sheltered him for nine months, who will continue to protect him, nurture him. He recognized his mama immediately and even now can tell he’s not being held by her. River can feel him begin to stir, hungry and confused, and bouncing him gently in her arms, stands up and begins to walk with him, like she has with Killian and Leila Lee numerous times. She knows a meltdown is inevitable, but wants to grant Inara a few more minutes of rest. She did a lot of hard work today. And River finds calm in the mind of newborn, of all children. When she’s not flying the ship, she likes to be around the toddlers, experiencing their new discoveries and simple joys right along with them. But there is something especially soothing about baby Abram’s mind, a soul she knows will one day be close to hers. She felt their connection when he was still in the womb. The mother rouses before the infant, and River quickly steps into the infirmary to stave off any panic on Inara’s part. “He’s hungry,” she informs the older woman, voice quiet to avoid waking the captain who is passed out in the chair next to the bed. River lays Abram in Inara’s arms gently, like an old pro, before he can even wake up and cry. He whimpers a little as he awakens, eyes opening slightly to find his mama, radiant and exhausted, staring down at him. “Hello, baby,” Inara smiles, a finger running down his cheek. He blinks once, as if acknowledging and responding. Then he begins to whine again, hungry. River pushes herself up onto the counter as Inara settles Abram at her breast, smiling at mother and son. “You picked the perfect name,” River says softly. “Father of nations. In the old Hebrew. Your daddy’s.” Inara looks up briefly, eyes bright but tired. “Yes, my father’s.” “Abram Serra. A lawyer. A good man. Loved his little girl as much as she loved her abbi.” “He has his nose. And ears.” “Captain Daddy’s chin. Your cheekbones. Genetics. Common for the grandson to favor the maternal grandfather.” Inara smiles. “And hopefully he’ll have your smarts, Aunt River.” River smiles in return, taking her eyes off Abram briefly. “Close. Better that way. Smart and sane.” “You’re sane, sweetie,” Inara assures her, grimacing slightly and adjusting Abram. “Some days. Never be all better. Baby Abey’s lucky.” “Baby Abey,” Inara laughs lightly. “Where did that come from?” “Killian. Never stops talking.” “I suppose that’s his father’s influence. Certainly not Zoe’s.” River giggles, disturbing Mal, who jolts up, sputtering and confused. “Shh. You’ll wake the baby,” River stage-whispers. Abe has indeed fallen asleep again, mid-meal. Mal scrubs his hands over his face, realizing where he is and why he is there very slowly. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds two pairs of brown eyes on him, his wife’s and his co-pilot’s. “Hi, ladies,” he says, softly after River’s warning, sleepy smile on his face. He shifts his focus to his sleeping newborn son. The awe crossing his mind makes River breathless as well, but she smiles at the feeling. He moves to lift the infant from Inara’s arms. “Mind if Bubba and I do a little quality bonding?” “Bubba?” Inara asks, incredulous, handing the infant over and relaxing, exhausted, against the pillows. River rolls her eyes. “Dialectic nickname. Originated in the southern part of North America on Earth-That-Was. Now tending towards the Rim. A bastardization of ‘brother’ applied often to the oldest and/or only son.” Settling Abram against his chest, Mal grunts, “What she said.” “Must you call him that?” Inara asks. “Not Abram? Or even Abe?” “Them too.” “An endearment,” River comments. “Like you call him ‘baby’.” “You’ll do well to listen to your Aunt River, Bubba,” Mal whispers to the newborn, eyes twinkling at Inara as he utters the nickname. “Sleepy,” River announces, pushing herself off of the counter and slipping noiselessly to the floor. “Well, yeah. Seems he is a mite.” “I meant me. And Mommy. You can go home in the morning..” She pads out of the room, leaving the new parents to grin stupidly and sleepily at each other while the newborn sleeps oblivious to anything except the soft hands smoothing his brow and the warm arms protecting him: Mama and Daddy.