Fic: Nightmare

[silverselene.livejournal.com]

Title: Nightmare
Author: silverselene
Summary: Even a year after the events on Miranda, Inara is still bothered by nightmares.
Rating: R (for blood and violence)
Characters: Inara, brief appearances from the rest of the crew.
Pairing: None that are obvious, but Simon/Kaylee and Mal/Inara if you squint and look real hard.
Warning: Pretty violent, includes Reavers.
Spoilers/Timeline: Takes place about a year after the BDM.
Disclaimer:  The usual, I own nothing, Joss is Boss.
Author's Note: This is a dream I wrote for a community in which I roleplay Inara, to use it as a springboard for a RP scene. 

White.

 

The whole world was white.  Too white, too bright - blindingly so - and too sterile.  It is as if the entire world was designed to be a giant operating room.  There was no warmth, no feeling of this being a home for anyone.  But it wasn’t a home, not any more.  Miranda was a tomb.

 

Inara followed the rest of the crew; their guns were drawn, waiting for something to surprise them, give them reason to fire, give an excuse to add some noise to the earth-shattering silence that hung heavy over the world.  Only River followed behind her, somehow walking silently in heavy black boots.

 

Suddenly, there was a small gasp behind her. River was crying out while the others kept walking.  “River, sweetie, what’s …”  Inara turned to offer some comfort to the girl, but no one was there.  Where had River gone?  “River?”  Inara’s voice echoed through the passageway, her eyes filled with confusion at the girl’s disappearance.  “Simon, River’s …”  Inara turned back to call after the others, to get them to stop and look for the girl who brought them here.  The passageway was empty.  She was alone on a dead world.

 

“Kaylee?  Mal?”  Inara hurried down in the direction the others had been heading.  “Jayne? Wash! Zoe!”  She was yelling now as she ran, but the passageway seemed to stretch on and on.  She could see the end, but she couldn’t reach it.  Somewhere in the sterile landscape she heard a scream, a gunshot and then nothing.  Inara stopped running and was instantly in what appeared to be a city square.  Large windows allowed her to look into the buildings, look in on the dead.  Clouded eyes looked back at her as she slowly walked the street, looking for signs of life.  Her heart was beating faster but she wasn’t going to scream, she wasn’t going to be afraid.

 

She turned a corner and there was Serenity.  The ship was dirty, battered, missing some parts, but it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.  It was home and it was safe.  Had the crew made it back to the ship?  Were they wondering where she had gone?  Without another thought Inara rushed up the ramp into the cool darkness of the cargo bay, already more at ease. She leaned against the cool metal wall and breathed in deeply, eyes sinking shut as she thanked Buddha that she found her way home. The harsh sterility of Miranda was behind her, hidden by the cargo doors, now closed.

 
Serenity was quiet; there wasn’t the usual hum of the engine nor were there any sounds of life until … Laughter, from the common area.  Light and bubbly, it was Kaylee!  “Mei mei,” Inara called out, almost crying with joy as she hurried through the door.  But the laughter was gone, only an echo in the air, in her memory.

 

Kaylee was there, but … No, it was all so wrong.  Blood.  Too much blood.  Kaylee was crumpled on the couch, pools of blood dripping from her like a fountain, the floor sticky with it.  Each step towards the mechanic was slowed as Inara’s feet felt glued to the floor.  “Dear Buddha, no!”  With the cry the glue suddenly evaporated and with a lurch forward Inara was at Kaylee’s side, scooping up the girl’s body only to drop it as she recoiled in horror at the hole blasted through Kaylee’s head.  “No, no, no, no,” Inara whimpered and sobbed as she released her dearest friend, backing away towards the infirmary, her eyes wide and her body starting to shake.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Inara spun towards the calm voice of the doctor, of Simon, who was standing in the infirmary, his back towards the door.  The room was a disaster; everything that could be ruined was utterly destroyed.  Bottles were smashed, equipment was ripped apart, drawers where yanked open and tossed to the floor.  “Simon?  Oh god, Simon, Kaylee!  She’s …”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Simon said again as he turned to face Inara.  His eyes were filled with gut-wrenching pain as he slowly lifted a gun to his head.  She studied him, horrified, and saw the gaping wound in his stomach, but there was no blood falling from it.  “No more bullets,” he said to her as if he was delivering her news of her impending death, his voice filled with sorrow that things had to end this way.  “I couldn’t save her,” Simon whispered before he pulled the trigger, spraying the room and turning the infirmary red.

 

Inara sped out of the infirmary and raced up the back stairs.  Her shoes were slick with blood and she missed a few steps as her hands clung to the railing, half-dragging herself upwards.  She had to find someone, find some explanation as to what was going on.  Would she find the others dead as well?  As she reached the fore passage she heard an inhuman howl from below, enough to turn her blood cold and nearly stop her in her tracks.  Desperately she tried each of the hatches into the crew’s bunks, but all were locked.  Tears burning her eyes and blood staining her hands and dress, Inara pounded helplessly on the control panel but to no avail.

 

There was a crackling sound followed by a hiss and then the passageway went dark.  Red lights weakly came to life, providing enough illumination for Inara to head towards the bridge.  She stumbled along the passageway, fear gripping her as her tears made it difficult to see.  Grasping the railing, Inara climbed the few stairs that lead up onto the bridge,  laughing with relief to see a familiar blond head rising up from the pilot’s chair.

 

And then she saw the spike.

 

Wash was pinned into his chair, his lifeless body slumped as much as the spike would allow, his face still registering the shock of the impact as his head fell to one side.  “No.  No, no, no,” Inara started to whisper again, her voice unable to say much more as she backed slowly away from the sight, backed away from the death that had taken someone so dear to them.  But the others?  Zoe, River, Jayne …

 

“Mal!”  The last name was thrust from her throat as she turned to head deeper into the ship, but her path was impeded by large bloody figures.  Their faces were newly cut, flesh pulled back into gruesome patterns as blood dripped thickly from the self-inflicted wounds.  The littlest one slipped from behind the other three and like a shadow drifted behind Inara.  With a shining ax in her hand the Reaver who had once been River gleefully hacked at the back of Inara’s knees, sending her stumbling forward into the greedy arms of the three who had once been her family.

It was the one in the ripped brown coat that gripped her arm until it bled; his fingers were knives that bit into her flesh as he moved to hoist her up.  His mutilated face falsely grinned at her; the ripped flesh pulled his lips into a vicious smile that held no mirth, only a cannibalistic lust.  It was then that she screamed, even though there was no one to save her.  The others were dead.  But that didn’t matter as she violently kicked at her attackers, screaming until her voice was raw or until it was torn from her neck by impossibly sharp teeth.
 

It was that scream that ripped her out of the dream and back into her bed, tangled in her sheets as she kept kicking, trying to get away.