Captain Oblivious (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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firefly_fanfic2006-04-09 05:37 pm
maggiebloome.livejournal.com) wrote in firefly_fanfic2006-04-09 05:37 pm
(no subject)
Title: Grief
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maggiebloome
Summary: If only it had been someone else. Anyone else...
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Zoe, Wash, Mal, Kaylee, Simon, River, Inara, Jayne
Pairing: (not pairing-centric, but) Zoe/Wash, Simon/Kaylee, Simon/Jayne, Mal/Inara
Warning: Character death. Character death LIEK WHOAH.
Spoilers/Timeline: BDM.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Jossie, etc etc.
Author's Note: This is a what-if fic, basically a series of drabbles very closely linked.
>After Wash’s death, Zoe was left in a pool of silence. She didn’t weep, she didn’t scream, she was simply very, very quiet. The crew tip-toed around her, even as Mal and River piloted the ship with a slight feeling of wrongness, and Kaylee cried, and Jayne talked just a little too loud.
She did not say a word. Until one day, when they gathered around her half-empty room, worried, and River looked into her eyes and said the words she would not say.
“If only it had been somebody else. Anybody else.”
After Kaylee’s death everything went gray. There was less laughter, and people spoke in murmurs. Even the hum of the engine seemed subdued. Mal paced the corridors, feeling his ship’s unease. Grief was in the walls, in the crew. Zoe and Wash held hands so tightly. River relapsed more and more often. He entered the engine room, half hoping to see wires strung everywhere and her smiling face smeared with grease. Instead, he found Inara, weeping. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently, and left.
As he passed Jayne’s bunk, Simon was just walking out of it, buttoning up his shirt. Mal looked from Simon to Jayne, sitting on his bed, and back to Simon. “Thought you two didn’t get on?”
Simon looked at him with dark circles of insomnia crowding his eyes. “We don’t get on.” He said shortly. “We get off.”
Then he walked away, and didn’t cry. Mal raised an eyebrow at Jayne, who had the decency to look away.
After Jayne’s death, everyone tried to carry on as normal. But every time anyone’s eyes met, there would be an understanding. A secret guilt. We should have liked him more. Tried harder to save him. The man was an obnoxious hwoon dahn but…
He shouldn’t be dead. We shouldn’t be glad it was him and not… He shouldn’t be dead.
After River’s death, Simon seemed a little lost. She had been the focal point of his life for so long, his anchor, no matter how unstable she was, and now he was… adrift. Kaylee felt as if the life had gone out of him. But it wasn’t life – it was love. She’d always felt drawn to him because he was so fiercely protective, so full of love. It shone in his eyes when he looked at his sister, and she felt the burning need for that look to be directed at her.
Now it was gone. Everybody sensed it. Well, maybe not Jayne, bless him, but the rest of the crew walked on eggshells around him, and Inara’s face radiated pity until Kaylee wanted to hit it…
When River died, a piece of Simon died with her.
After Simon’s death, the universe blurred. She felt herself drifting more and more, the world was speaking to her but she could not understand it, without him there to translate, to tell her that everything was alright.
The others didn’t get it. They saw only the loss of a doctor (and Zoe was ever practical, already discreetly keeping an eye out for a replacement), the loss of a friend (although Mal never admitted it, never called him friend before he died or after), the loss of a potential lover (oh Kaylee, even this death dampens not your bright light), the loss of a sparring partner, a crew member, a man.
They did not feel the loss of a brother, the loss of a universe. They were concerned about her, she abstractly knew this, although she rarely saw their outer faces any more. They were afraid for her. They were afraid of her. She was afraid of herself.
She wanted her brother back.
After Mal’s death, the ship fell apart. He had been the glue that kept their edgy unity from degrading into an explosive substance. Zoe knew she was not the commander he was. She took orders and gave orders with equal practiced skill, but she was not the one who thought of the crazy plans, and she was not the one who would always come through miraculously unharmed when they did not go smooth. She wondered what had broken his lucky streak.
She wondered how he’d done it. She could barely keep Jayne in line on her own – he was always giving her that “You’re not the Captain” look – let alone provide the love that Kaylee so desperately needed, let alone get Simon to come out of the sick bay, make him understand that everything was already clean, let alone… at least Mal’s final mistake had only cost him his life. She had a feeling that hers would cost the ship.
For once in her life, Zoe did not know what to do.
After Inara’s death, something distorted in the atmosphere of the captain, and therefore the ship. He kept it close inside as he kept everything, but there was a rougher edge to him. The crew was a jigsaw puzzle that no longer quite fitted together. No matter how many times she’d left, they had always known she could come back. Kaylee felt more and more alone in what was rapidly becoming a man’s ship. Inara had brought a touch of class to things. What were they, now? A bunch of ragged outlaws with a smuggling racket.
Inara left Kaylee little things. Fripperies. Perfume and silk, and a little calligraphic print to hang on her wall. She shared the perfume with River, who was still a child, and didn’t know what to do with it. But perhaps she could teach her. Inara was gone, but her spirit might live on.
After Zoe’s death, Wash became silent. He didn’t joke, he didn’t laugh, he didn’t even cry. He just flew the ship, quietly, sadly, most nights staying on the bridge to look at the stars, which didn’t answer the question he didn’t ask.
He was dimly aware of the rest of the crew grieving – the captain stoically, Kaylee with sad smiles, Jayne who polished and took care of Zoe’s old guns as well as his own, better even. Simon was awkward around him. The boy hadn’t seen death – or he probably had, working in a hospital, but he hadn’t felt death, rather, and he didn’t know what to say.
His sister knew. She said it once, looking at him across the dinner table in one of those silences that he dimly knew he had somehow caused, and she reached into his mind and told them what it was he’d spent all this time not saying.
“If only it had been somebody else. Anybody else.”
Author:
maggiebloomeSummary: If only it had been someone else. Anyone else...
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Zoe, Wash, Mal, Kaylee, Simon, River, Inara, Jayne
Pairing: (not pairing-centric, but) Zoe/Wash, Simon/Kaylee, Simon/Jayne, Mal/Inara
Warning: Character death. Character death LIEK WHOAH.
Spoilers/Timeline: BDM.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Jossie, etc etc.
Author's Note: This is a what-if fic, basically a series of drabbles very closely linked.
>After Wash’s death, Zoe was left in a pool of silence. She didn’t weep, she didn’t scream, she was simply very, very quiet. The crew tip-toed around her, even as Mal and River piloted the ship with a slight feeling of wrongness, and Kaylee cried, and Jayne talked just a little too loud.
She did not say a word. Until one day, when they gathered around her half-empty room, worried, and River looked into her eyes and said the words she would not say.
“If only it had been somebody else. Anybody else.”
After Kaylee’s death everything went gray. There was less laughter, and people spoke in murmurs. Even the hum of the engine seemed subdued. Mal paced the corridors, feeling his ship’s unease. Grief was in the walls, in the crew. Zoe and Wash held hands so tightly. River relapsed more and more often. He entered the engine room, half hoping to see wires strung everywhere and her smiling face smeared with grease. Instead, he found Inara, weeping. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently, and left.
As he passed Jayne’s bunk, Simon was just walking out of it, buttoning up his shirt. Mal looked from Simon to Jayne, sitting on his bed, and back to Simon. “Thought you two didn’t get on?”
Simon looked at him with dark circles of insomnia crowding his eyes. “We don’t get on.” He said shortly. “We get off.”
Then he walked away, and didn’t cry. Mal raised an eyebrow at Jayne, who had the decency to look away.
After Jayne’s death, everyone tried to carry on as normal. But every time anyone’s eyes met, there would be an understanding. A secret guilt. We should have liked him more. Tried harder to save him. The man was an obnoxious hwoon dahn but…
He shouldn’t be dead. We shouldn’t be glad it was him and not… He shouldn’t be dead.
After River’s death, Simon seemed a little lost. She had been the focal point of his life for so long, his anchor, no matter how unstable she was, and now he was… adrift. Kaylee felt as if the life had gone out of him. But it wasn’t life – it was love. She’d always felt drawn to him because he was so fiercely protective, so full of love. It shone in his eyes when he looked at his sister, and she felt the burning need for that look to be directed at her.
Now it was gone. Everybody sensed it. Well, maybe not Jayne, bless him, but the rest of the crew walked on eggshells around him, and Inara’s face radiated pity until Kaylee wanted to hit it…
When River died, a piece of Simon died with her.
After Simon’s death, the universe blurred. She felt herself drifting more and more, the world was speaking to her but she could not understand it, without him there to translate, to tell her that everything was alright.
The others didn’t get it. They saw only the loss of a doctor (and Zoe was ever practical, already discreetly keeping an eye out for a replacement), the loss of a friend (although Mal never admitted it, never called him friend before he died or after), the loss of a potential lover (oh Kaylee, even this death dampens not your bright light), the loss of a sparring partner, a crew member, a man.
They did not feel the loss of a brother, the loss of a universe. They were concerned about her, she abstractly knew this, although she rarely saw their outer faces any more. They were afraid for her. They were afraid of her. She was afraid of herself.
She wanted her brother back.
After Mal’s death, the ship fell apart. He had been the glue that kept their edgy unity from degrading into an explosive substance. Zoe knew she was not the commander he was. She took orders and gave orders with equal practiced skill, but she was not the one who thought of the crazy plans, and she was not the one who would always come through miraculously unharmed when they did not go smooth. She wondered what had broken his lucky streak.
She wondered how he’d done it. She could barely keep Jayne in line on her own – he was always giving her that “You’re not the Captain” look – let alone provide the love that Kaylee so desperately needed, let alone get Simon to come out of the sick bay, make him understand that everything was already clean, let alone… at least Mal’s final mistake had only cost him his life. She had a feeling that hers would cost the ship.
For once in her life, Zoe did not know what to do.
After Inara’s death, something distorted in the atmosphere of the captain, and therefore the ship. He kept it close inside as he kept everything, but there was a rougher edge to him. The crew was a jigsaw puzzle that no longer quite fitted together. No matter how many times she’d left, they had always known she could come back. Kaylee felt more and more alone in what was rapidly becoming a man’s ship. Inara had brought a touch of class to things. What were they, now? A bunch of ragged outlaws with a smuggling racket.
Inara left Kaylee little things. Fripperies. Perfume and silk, and a little calligraphic print to hang on her wall. She shared the perfume with River, who was still a child, and didn’t know what to do with it. But perhaps she could teach her. Inara was gone, but her spirit might live on.
After Zoe’s death, Wash became silent. He didn’t joke, he didn’t laugh, he didn’t even cry. He just flew the ship, quietly, sadly, most nights staying on the bridge to look at the stars, which didn’t answer the question he didn’t ask.
He was dimly aware of the rest of the crew grieving – the captain stoically, Kaylee with sad smiles, Jayne who polished and took care of Zoe’s old guns as well as his own, better even. Simon was awkward around him. The boy hadn’t seen death – or he probably had, working in a hospital, but he hadn’t felt death, rather, and he didn’t know what to say.
His sister knew. She said it once, looking at him across the dinner table in one of those silences that he dimly knew he had somehow caused, and she reached into his mind and told them what it was he’d spent all this time not saying.
“If only it had been somebody else. Anybody else.”
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Particular faves: Simon's bitter post-Jayne-sex line (OUCH!), the fact that Jayne's death makes everybody feel bad that they don't feel worse, and Wash's mourning for Zoe--the stars "didn't answer the question he didn't ask."
Really quite stupendous.
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When you lose Wash, there's less lightness and humor, less love, and less conscience, and I think the only reason we can handle that is that we have Jayne, Kaylee and Simon, and Inara still left, who double those parts.
Anyway, sorry for the rambling. Lovely piece.
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It was Mal's and Zoe's and Jayne's that hit me hardest, I think, but this is a gorgeous little piece all around. Thanks. =)
Class in a glass
The reaction to Zoe's death was also really well done. Very poignant. Needless to say, I cried. Bah, humbug.
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*heart*
That was...fantasic. I think, god...it's so hard to pic a favorite. They were all beautifully written and thought out. River and Simon's were just...gah. They're so tied to one another.
I think Zoe's was my favorite though. But I couldn't even say why.
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