Chapter Two

disclaimer: still don’t own ‘em

A/N Chapter two. This chappie has a lot of exposition. Lots o talk, no action, as it were. That should change in a chapter or two, but let me know if this is a bad direction to go in, and I should skip my stupid philosophical, pseudo-psychological ramblings. I’m all for participatory writing. This is, after all, fan fiction. At this point I am assuming that I will write 4 more chapters after this (To Strive, To Seek, To Find, And Not to Yield). After all, this is way more fun than what I should be doing.

an explanatory note on the use of ‘G-d’ . Don’t worry, the ‘o’ key on my computer works just fine. Its just that Jews prefer not to write the name of the Big Girl upstairs, and while I may not have that much faith, I do believe in the ordering powers of ritual and tradition. So, to maintain my sense of rootedness, I respect the power inherent in the name. So G-d it is.

River’s literary allusions. Not too many this time. Just the state motto of VA (I thinks its VA. Anyone out there from VA?), a couple of poems by e e cummings and one by Walt Whitman. If you are curious about the ‘Olaf’ reference, I have included the entire poem by cummings at the bottom of the page. Its one of my favorites. So is ‘my father moved through dooms of love,’ the other poem used, but that’s too long to put here.

on with the story

But Strong in Will

***

Serenity’s crew stood gathered outside the locked door to the infirmary, peering in through the large panes of glass at the unconscious form within. Varying levels of concern and fear were evident on each face.

‘You sure you took all the knives and needles and such out of there, Doc?’ Wash asked incredulously. ‘You remember what happened the last time we had a survivor in there. What with the forking of his own tongue, skin mutilation, and general homicidal tendencies.’

‘I checked three times. And I gave her double the normal dose of sedative for a person of her body weight.’ Simon sounded as though he was trying to calm his own fears, as well as those of the pilot.

‘She don’t look too crazy,’ Kayley offered uncertainly.

‘No. she certainly doesn’t.’ Inara chimed in. ‘Which begs another question. What do you plan to do with her, Mal, when she does wake up? You can’t keep her locked in that room indefinitely. And with your, ah, vocational choices, it would seem unwise to keep an alliance officer on board any longer than is strictly necessary.’

‘I was hoping we could drop her off planet side before she woke up. Make her someone else’s problem.’

‘If I may offer an opinion, captain Reynolds, I’m not sure that would be the best course of action. If, as you say, the alliance sent her on a mission in search of reavers, allowing her to return to her superiors might prove inadvisable. The alliance strives for greater control, more power. We have all seen what they are capable of doing to obtain those ends,’ Book glanced back at River, engaged in a series of pirouettes at the back of the room. ‘If they have some new plan involving reavers, G-d help us all.’

‘Don’t really care what their plan is, preacher, as long as it don’t involve me. I ain’t responsible for the whole gorram ‘verse. Just me, my boat, and my crew.’

‘We are all a part of something greater than ourselves, Captain Reynolds. You have a responsibility to the rest of humanity, whether you wish it or not.’

‘Don’t know about that, Shepherd. But I also got no love for the alliance. Kinda makes me eager to thwart their nefarious scheming. We wait until she wakes up, find out what in the gorram hell this is all about, and then... Well, then we do somethin’ else. Lookin for reavers. Wouldn’ta thought even the alliance that crazy. Guess they bit off more’n they could chew on this one..’

‘Sic semper tyrannis.’ River interjected, as though no further explanation ought to be required.

Jayne looked up and grunted. ‘Only sick person round here is you, with that habit of cuttin me, girl.’

Simon started forward in anger. ‘Sic, not sick, you idiot.’

‘Ya lost me there doc.’

‘s-i-c, you illiterate oaf. Its Latin. sic semper tyrannis. It means thus always to tyrants.’

Wash raised his hand. ‘Um, sorry to go back a bit here, but I’m still not clear on how we know she hasn’t turned into a flesh-eating self-mutilating um, mutilator. T-Rex and I just want to be sure, you know, before she kills us. I mean, no human could survive reavers and still be sane...’

***

I began to regain consciousness slowly, picked up only fragments of the muted conversation outside. ‘No human could survive.’ The words rolled around in my head, echoing my own silent fears.

No human could survive. But I had. And a little to sane for my own liking. At least there might have been peace in lunacy, a surrendering of guilt. I had survived. What did that make me? Maybe the voice was right. Maybe there were some things a human should not be able to endure. But I had come to the limit, had crossed over, and I was still here. For survival, my body was willing to ignore pain, grief, death. Something in me was willing to abandon all loyalties, all loves, all compassion, everything to save itself. I did it in Serenity Valley, and how many countless times since. And now...it is one time too many. Perhaps I should mark my skin, I mused. There should be some external evidence of the monster within, the one that, like a reaver, was willing to abandon humanity for continued life.

But even now I can’t believe it. Can’t believe there isn’t something more to me than that. I have a choice. Yes, a choice. I can choose not to survive at any cost. I can choose to place my own survival below my humanity. I will no longer save my life at the expense of myself. Will no longer ignore the pain of others for my own convenience. I will not kill. Reavers kill. Animal instincts kill. I will not live because I can, I will die because I should.

A great wave of relief and release washed over me, and I fell into a sleep that was not drug-induced.

***

River was the first one to brave the survivor’s presence. She picked the lock and crept silently into the infirmary late that night. She knew that the woman was awake, had sensed her intermittent rise to consciousness throughout the afternoon. Still, River entered the room tentatively, silently, like a young bird unsure of its surroundings. ‘You are not a reaver,’ she declared to the woman sitting opposite. ‘You are Anne. And I am not an ocean. I am River. You want to be like Olaf, glad and big. But pushing will come to shoving, and you are not as blond as him. Maybe you are more brave. O captain my captain. he is braver than us all.’

‘This captain, he is a good man?’

‘I say though hate were why men breath, because my captain lived his soul, love is the whole, and more than all.’

‘You are not one for clarity, are you, sweetheart. Still, you knew my name, and you seem to know...more... You’re a reader, aren’t you? What are you doing all the way out here, with this bunch of lawless independents? I would have thought the alliance...’

With that, a light went on abruptly in the hallway, and Simon came storming through the infirmary door, his shirttails half-tucked sloppily into his trousers. ‘Get away from my sister! River- get away from there - she might be dangerous,’ he shouted.

‘I am not going to strangle her with my shoestrings, if that is what you are worried about,’ the woman replied.

Simon grabbed his sister and retreated to the far side of the room, still clutching her protectively to his chest. ‘Even so, you’re alliance! For all I know you did this to her. You could be trying to lure her back! I will not let her go back there. Not for anything.’

The commotion had awoken the rest of the crew, who gradually came stumbling down the hallway.

‘I did not do this, young man. Didn’t even know it was being done. I heard rumors... But I did not do this. I have enough on my conscience without adding this.’

‘You must have known. Or had some idea. You must know who...’ Simon desperately continued. ‘You’re special forces. Mal says that tattoo means special forces. You know things. You must. You must...’

Anne scanned the faces of the men and women who had recently entered the room. Anything to avoid the doctor’s pitiful pleas. Her gaze moved past the captain, she had seen him before, on her ship. Malcolm Reynolds. There were others as well. Two she remembered. And a man in a brightly colored shirt, two women, and then, a face she did not expect.

Her eyes fixed on his weather worn features, on the graying mass of hair pulled back from his face, and on the Bible he gripped in his right hand. ‘I don’t know,’ she insisted, responding to Simon, yet never moving her gaze from the shepherd’s face. ‘But he might. Ask him.’

All eyes turned to Book, who calmly, if somewhat sheepishly, returned their stares.

‘Preacher?’ Mal asked. ‘You wanna explain this?’

‘No, not particularly’ the man responded. ‘But I don’t think I have a choice.’

***

for those who are curious:

i sing of Olaf glad and big

e. e. cummings

i sing of Olaf glad and big whose warmest heart recoiled at war: a conscientious object-or

his wellbelovid colonel(trig westpointer most succinctly bred) took erring Olaf soon in hand; but--though an host of overjoyed noncoms(first knocking on the head him)do through icy waters roll that helplessness which others stroke with brushes recently employed anent this muddy toiletbowl, while kindred intellects evoke allegiance per blunt instruments-- Olaf(being to all intents a corpse and wanting any rag upon what G-d unto him gave) responds,without getting annoyed "I will not kiss your fucking flag"

straightway the silver bird looked grave (departing hurriedly to shave)

but--though all kinds of officers (a yearning nation's blueeyed pride) their passive prey did kick and curse until for wear their clarion voices and boots were much the worse, and egged the firstclassprivates on his rectum wickedly to tease by means of skilfully applied bayonets roasted hot with heat-- Olaf(upon what were once knees) does almost ceaselessly repeat "there is some shit I will not eat"

our president,being of which assertions duly notified threw the yellowsonofabitch into a dungeon,where he died

Christ(of His mercy infinite) i pray to see;and Olaf,too

preponderatingly because unless statistics lie he was more brave than me:more blond than you.