Firefly fic

[serafina20]

Camille stepped into the control room cautiously, not liking that even at home she felt was timid and unsure. There wasn't anyone she could blame, outside of the Alliance. And, maybe Mal. If he hadn't gotten so mad, if he'd just let her explain, maybe she wouldn't keep waiting for the next rejection from the next person. She already spent her life waiting for something bad to happen anyway, just, normally, she was able to pretend she didn't care.

Garrison was standing in front of a vid screen, drinking tea and watching a bunch of kids pound on Jayne in the gym. As yet, he was unaware of her presence, and Camille was glad that he wasn't a psychic. Like Mal, Garrison was a sensitive, but unless she made her presence known, she could probably stand and watch him for some time before he noticed her. In the past, when they'd been together, she'd often done that, just hung back watching and wondering how she'd gotten so lucky as to earn his love.

She crossed the room to him and took her place at his side.

He continued to watch the monitors. "Hello, Camille."

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" He turned away from the screen to look at her.

Now the focus of his undivided attention, Camille felt her cheeks heat. She had to drop her eyes and she felt stupid and weak, but this man did things to her. "Better. A lot better." She licked her lips and forced herself to look back up. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Busy. Worried." He sipped the tea and looked over at her. "I feel much better now that you are back and safe."

She warmed at that happily. "And, um. The others?"

"Everyone checked in one time and are on their way. We should have a full house within the next few days. Save, of course, for those that fell." He frowned and rubbed his chin meditatively. "I was thinking we should have a service for Trinity and Asher," he said, naming the two kids who hadn't made it. "Do you think either one of them would want a shepherd to read?"

"Asher probably would have." She took his tea and finished it off. "Trinity wouldn't have cared either way. She wasn't... she wasn't like Prophet and me in that way. Angry at it all. I mean, she was, but I think she still believed in God."

"Do you mind if I ask Shepherd Book, then?"

Camille shrugged. "It'd be fitting. He was as much a tool of the Alliance as any of us."

"Very well, I'll ask." He reached out and fingered the ends of her hair. "I'm worried about Prophet."

"Me too. He's so hurt by losing Trinity. He doesn't want to visit River. And he feels a little… self-destructive."

Garrison nodded. "I've had him with the psychologist since Trinity died, but Prophet is just giving her the runaround. You know what he's like when he doesn't want to talk; nothing in the 'verse can make that boy make sense. At least now he's communicating with others. He hasn't spoken to anyone but Dr. Aranki or me since Trinity. I think he was waiting for you."

"Yeah." She looked at him. "He's with Simon now. That worries me."

"Why?"

"He won't visit River, but he's latched onto the man who gave up everything to get her out. Everyone is kind of thinking of Simon like this hero. They love him because he was willing to do that and resent him because none of their family did."

Garrison raised an eyebrow. "How do you feel?"

"I like him. He and I bonded pretty quickly. I reminded him of River and he… he's Simon. But others are going through issues right now."

"How bad do you think these issues will be?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "Not too. I don't think, anyway. I think it's something that we need to talk about as a group. Maybe we can sit down with Simon and River, too." Camille looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "Of course, it'd help most of them to know what was going on with their parents. I find it really hard to believe that so many parents just didn't give a damn about what happened to their children. Even if they didn't find out about the experiments, they must know by now the kids are missing from school."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I know. I know it would help, but the fact is, I don't know why. Not in each case. I know there was a lot of coercion and threats that happened and it was safer for most people to give up on their children. Some are dead. A few were dead before, and some really simply don't care."

"All of us kina feel worthless sometimes," she said.

"And what has you feeling so worthless right now, xin ai?" Garrison asked, turning to face her.

Camille pressed her palms into her eyes, fighting back tears. "It's hard to explain. I don't want to explain. I was just so dead after almost being caught, I didn't feel real. I still don't quite feel real."

Garrison's arms came around her, pulling her into his chest. He stroked her hair, sending off waves of comfort and love that should have made her feel more at home than it did. "This will pass, Camille. I promise. Things will get back to normal for you. That's one benefit of being home."

"Yeah." She wasn't sure if she believed it.

"I know things will be hard once we start working on River," he said, misinterpreting or overlooking the real reason for her doubt. "And I know that you'll never quite get over the loss of Trinity. But the world isn't ending."

Camille snorted and raised her head. "Really? Then why does it feel as if you're preparing for a scatter?"

"Well." He winced. "We might have to. There's every possibility that the Alliance is honing in on our location."

"You love this world."

Garrison nodded. "I do. But I love you all more, and your safety is more important." He traced her cheek with his thumb. "If we do scatter, I want you and Prophet to stay together."

"All right."

"And I'd like you to go on Serenity, with River."

Camille made a face. "We might not be welcome."

"Why not?"

Uncomfortable, Camille untangled herself from his arms and stepped away. Wrapping her own arms around her tightly, she said, "I'm not Mal's favorite person. He didn't appreciate being lied to, you know."

"Why didn't you tell him who you were after you knew about River?"

Camille shrugged. "I didn't want him to look at me any different. They all treat River like a fragile little girl. I hate that…" She stopped talking.

Garrison sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. Squeezing gently, he said, "You are one of the strongest young women I know, Camille. The Alliance didn't break you. They changed you, diverted you, perhaps, but you aren't broken. You can never be broken."

"I was an experiment. They meant me only to live to kill and fight and die."

"And you managed to break out of that mould."

"Because of you. Because of this." She touched the monitor. "It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"It does. Without your strength of will, you wouldn't have survived," Garrison said firmly. "Too many of you have died at the hands of or because of the Alliance experiments. Those that have survived have souls of steel. You're made of something different. Something to be proud of."

"Well it scares me," she replied. "I want to be normal."

"You never were normal, bao bei. None of you were. You were always destined for a greater life than that of the average person." He ran his fingers lightly over her face in the gentlest of caresses. "You just need to give up your resentment of what happened so you can live that great life, wherever it takes you."

Camille rolled her eyes and turned away from him. As she left the control room, she said, "The only thing you were better at than sex is meaningless platitudes, Garrison."

"And the only thing you are better at is hiding behind your fear," he said mildly.

She thought about sticking out her tongue at him or punching or kicking. Instead, she lifted her chin and stormed out of the room.

Damn him. Damn him for always knowing what words cut right through her. Because he was right and she knew it. She was scared. She'd always been scared of changing and life and everything. She'd grown up listening to her parents talk about her great future and how she had so many possibilities and so much potential to fulfill and it had been frightening. What if she failed? What if she never did anything great? What if they were wrong about her?

Garrison had let her go so she could find love with someone right for her. On the one hand, she was resentful because she hated that he thought she needed him to think for her. She was an adult and she knew what she wanted. She wanted him.

On the other hand… What if she never found anyone else? Or, worse, what if she did?

And, worse than that, what if she already had?

* * *

Dinner proved to be an uncomfortable affair. Camille was later than she meant to be and what with everyone being recalled to the base, the dining room was crowded. The only place left to sit by the time she got there was the main table, where Garrison and the crew of Serenity was sitting. If it had just been River and Kaylee, she'd have been fine. But it was the entire crew and, of course, the only place left to sit was next to Garrison with Mal directly across from her.

"I saved you a seat," Prophet, who was next to a weary-looking Simon, chirped when she arrived.

"You're too kind," Camille answered. She frowned at him. "Where did you get that bruise?"

Prophet shrugged, eyes sliding to Mal. "I can't remember."

Camille tried very, very hard not to look at Mal, but it was impossible. He was already looking at her. Their eyes met and held for a moment that seemed to freeze in time.

Mal looked away first.

"Play nice," Camille told him. "Please."

Prophet leaned into her. "What's going on with him, anyway?"

She shook her head and picked up her fork. "Not here." The meal, as usual, was wonderfully prepared, all natural, all grown right here, and never, ever touched by Blue Sun or the Alliance. After weeks of nothing but packaged protein and processed crap made in a laboratory by the most evil corporation in the verse, this was pure heaven.

It was very, very hard not to sigh orgasmically on her first bite. The muscles in her shoulders unknotted, her breathing eased, and her powers kicked in fully.

Mal's eyes snapped back to her. She tried very hard not to look at him as a torrent of angrily lustful thoughts washed over her.

Prophet snickered.

She kicked him under the table.

Three people down, River sighed, sounding just as happy, relaxed, and orgasmic at the fresh food as Camille had.

Next to Prophet, Simon whimpered.

And, thus, the meal proceeded. Only, with small talk, which made everything worse, as small talk inevitably did. Not just small talk, but small talk punctuated by Prophet's comments, which made the everything worse even worse than it would have been.

They talked about the weather: "It's so beautiful here," Inara said admiringly. "The weather is perfect. It reminds me of home." To which Prophet replied, "Yeah, well, twenty or thirty horny kids in paradise is a lot like a house full of whores in paradise."

They talked about the landscape: "Now this lake," Wash asked, "is it visible to anyone else? I mean," and he shot a glance at his wife, "how secluded is it?" "Secluded enough that Garrison never realizes we watch him jack off in it." Prophet's response made Wash's nose crinkle very cutely.

They discussed the classes: "I ain't never been a teacher before," a very bruised Jayne said, "but if you need me to teach these kids how to fight, I'm in." "And won't we enjoy that," Prophet said dryly in perhaps his worst quip of the night.

And they touched on religion--"I'd be very happy to talk with anyone about matters of spirituality," Shepherd Book said. Prophet's eyes rolled as he said, "Gotta wash the blood off of his soul somehow."

The chatting was very pleasant, very light, and no one said anything of consequence.

No one killed Prophet either. Barely.

Mal had said nothing at all. As soon as he was done eating, he grunted his good-bye to Garrison, and left the dining room.

Camille had tried not to care, but she did. And she projected it so loudly that every kid in the room stopped talking to look at her.

"So, um," she said, trying to ignore everyone's eyes, "Simon. How do you, uh, like it here?"

He looked at her with a touch of sympathy. "It really is beautiful. And the philosophy behind the care is something... something that I think should be looked into everywhere. If it were possible, of course."

"What do you mean?" Zoe asked.

Simon turned to her. "Everything is very open. They tell the pa... kids everything they're going to do, all the results, how everything works. The treatment rooms are beautiful. Comfortable. You should see one."

"Thank you, Doctor, but I ain't planning on needing one." Zoe replied.

Garrison picked up his water glass and swirled the water around. "Actually, the doctors might end up asking any or all of you to help with River." He drank and then put the glass down.

"What are would we be expected to do?' said Wash, sounding alarmed. "We're not exactly doctors. Except for, you know. The doctor. I mean... I just want to swim."

"Don't worry. You won't be asked anything beyond your capabilities," Garrison said soothingly. "Often, even though we do everything we can to make the kids comfortable, they become agitated, sometimes violent when we begin treating them. One reason we keep the treatment rooms open and comfortable is to help keep the patients grounded and comfortable. If their friends are around, then they feel safer." He looked over at River, who had her head down, face hidden by her hair. "All you need to do, River, at any time is tell us that you need something or someone. Nothing that's going to happen in the next few weeks needs to be frightening."

"Thank you." River's voice was almost silent, and she was twisting her fingers in her lap.

"River?" Simon said cautiously.

She lifted her head and gave her brother a wavering smile. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. What's wrong?" He took her hand and squeezed.

"Nothing. I'm... It's just. I mean, they made promises, too."

"Of course they did," Garrison said. "They wanted you to believe you were agreeing to a new program. They had to manipulate you so, later, if you started to have doubts, they could hold it against you."

"And, meanwhile," Prophet said, mutilating what was left of his dessert, "they never bothered to admit that we never had any choice in the matter. We were there for the sole purpose of having our brains cut open."

Camille took his fork away and tried to take his hand. Prophet, though, shook her off and shoved his chair back from the table. Without saying another word, he flounced away, his jacket fluttering behind him like a cape, all drama and pain, like a black cloud.

"I better go after him," Camille said, pushing her own chair back.

"Do you want me to?" Simon asked, sounding rather as if he hoped she said no, but had better offer anyway.

"Do you want to have sex with him?"

"No," he said adamantly and very, *very* quickly.

"Then, no. Because if you go after him, he's going to jump you and use all his powers of persuasion to get you into. It's better if you just stay." She turned to go, but Simon grabbed her wrist.

"What about you? If you..." He broke off abruptly, glancing around the table.

Everyone except River and Garrison immediately looked down at their food. Garrison looked extremely curious, watching Camille narrowly.

Simon stood and took Camille outside the dining hall. When they were alone, he said softly, "Camille, I know Prophet is your friend. I know that you've slept with him before and that you love him and... But if you sleep with him now, then you'll lose any chance you have in reconciling with Mal."

Camille smiled sadly and put her hand to Simon's cheek. "I know. I know. And thank you for... thinking that, maybe, I still do have a chance with Mal."

"I think he loves you."

She blushed. "Well. Anyway, I'm not going to have sex with Prophet. He's not in the mood for me. He wants to be fucked, and fucked in a way that I can't, even with a toy."

Simon's face was dark red. He let go of her wrist and stepped away. "Oh. Oh, well, I, uh. I see."

"Sorry. God, I'm sorry I said that. Like that. I'm just..."

"It's all right." He hesitated, then moved closer to her again and put his arms around her. "I understand this is hard for you." Simon stroked her hair. "Mal will calm down. Eventually. Until then, try not to worry about him."

"It's hard not to. Everyone here is used to me and Garrison either being together or... having problems apart. There's this expectation on how I'm supposed to act, and I'm not doing that. Not like normal." She wiped her eyes on his shirt, then rested her cheek on his chest. "They want to know why. I don't know what to say."

"Can't you tell them you're not in love with him anymore?"

She sniffed. "I don't even know how to tell Garrison."

"Mei mei, he broke it off with you. He shouldn't need to be told. Didn't he leave you so you could move on with your own life?"

"Yeah. But he's still in love with me. I can feel it. When he finds out that I... I have feelings for Mal, Garrison is going to be hurt." A tear slid out of her eye.

Simon wiped it away with his thumb. "That's life. That's love. You think I'm not a little hurt by Mal's feelings for you?"

She felt like she'd been punched. "Oh, God." Camille pushed him away. "Simon, I'm so..."

"No. No, Camille, that's not what I..." He took her by the shoulders. "Mal and I weren't going to work. He made the right choice to reject men, and I made the right choice to accept it. Maybe I'll feel some shades of longing when I think of the inevitable moment when he comes to his senses and you stop being scared of what you want, but my feelings shouldn't stop you from what you want. Neither should Garrison's."

"You think I'm scared?"

"I know you are."

Camille gaped at him for a moment, trying to think of something to say. When her mind remained blank, she turned and stalked away.

"You have three modes, Camille," Simon called after her. "Fight, seduce, or run. You're like Jayne, only with a brain and psychic powers."

"Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu," she shouted back.

"I just spent the afternoon with Prophet. I'm already in hell."

She rolled her eyes and continued onto her room at a quicker pace. Prophet was already there, stretched across her bed. His arm was flung over his eyes, bare toes digging into the comforter, his body one tense line of anguish.

"Hey, bao bei," Camille said softly. She climbed on top of him, interlacing her fingers with his and pulling his arm off his face. "What's wrong?"

"Everything." His eyes were really bright. "I remember her. I hate her."

"No you don't."

"I hate her brother. I hate that she had someone who loved her so much that he gave up everything. It's not fair. I hate him."

"You know, you have even less reason to hate him than I do." She twisted his hair in her fingers. "Your father is the one who got you out."

Prophet frowned. "He did?"

"Yeah." She traced her fingers lightly over his forehead. "You gave him a lot of problems. He couldn't handle you and finally found Garrison. Now, I guess, your dad works for Garrison."

"Notice how often he comes to see me."

"Well. You're a jerk. And bitter. You probably scare him." She kissed him. "And he probably feels like he failed you." She kissed him again. "Why did you let Mal hit you?"

Prophet smirked, but his heart obviously wasn't in it. "Like I told him, you can't read a mind that has no thoughts. He took me by surprise."

"That's go shi and you know it. Did you tell that to Mal?"

"Maybe."

"Are you setting him up?"

"He hurt you. No one hurts my bian se long. Why do you think I'm such a thorn in Garrison's side?"

She shook her head and kissed him once more. "Don't, okay? I'm a big girl and can take care of myself."

Prophet put his arms around her and squeezed. "I don't want you to ever leave me again," he said. He rolled over, pinning her to the bed beneath him. "I don't care how strong or capable you are, you can't leave."

"Prophet..."

"I miss Trinity," he said. And then the dam broke and Prophet was sobbing into her shoulder.

His pain washed over her, breaking her heart. Holding him tightly, Camille cried with him. She stroked his back and wiped his tears, not saying anything. There wasn't anything to say and he needed to cry. They both did.

Tears inevitably led to exhaustion. Camille hadn't even realized she and Prophet had fallen asleep until the bed shifted and she was startled awake.

"River?" she croaked, throat dry and cracked.

"Can't sleep," River said, crawling over Prophet and sliding into bed behind Camille. "Mind's too busy. Too loud, too scared. Nothing makes sense. It's illogical."

Her arm was pinned under Prophet's body; she tried to work it free gently but, in the end, had to shove Prophet.

He groaned and rolled over.

Camille turned to River. "It's not illogical."

"It *is*," River insisted. "They mean well. All of them, I can tell. No hidden motives, no hidden meanings. Only want to make me better, but they're nervous and I'm nervous and Kaylee is frightened. They're going to cut me open, again. Just like *them*, and I'm scared."

"It's scary, baby." Camille touched River's cheek gently. "It is scary. But I'm going to be there with you. So is Kaylee and Simon and anyone else you want. You're not going through this alone. You'll never be alone again."

"It's like one big party in your head from now on," Prophet said sleepily. He moved so he was draped across Camille's back and started snoring softly once more.

River actually smiled waveringly. "He's got so much pain and so much love." She reached across Camille and touched Prophet's temple. "I remember him. We had classes together. Before. He used to watch me dance." Her smile faded and tears filled her eyes. "I remember. They told me I could do great things. I could do whatever I wanted. I could be... And I asked if I could still dance. But they wanted me to fight. Wanted me to hurt and I do. I hurt people, I can... I know how to kill I've killed I've seen them, in their minds, but I've done it too. I... I never wanted this."

"I know." She wiped the tears away, her own welling up again. "I know you didn't. I didn't either. My dad volunteered to fight the Alliance because it was a cause he believed in, and I remember asking... I asked him, if you believe that someone, a government is wrong, do you have go to battle. He told me know, that there are many ways to fight injustice, and I didn't have to pick up a weapon to fight. But the Alliance took me and turned me into a weapon."

"You would have been a great actress," River said softly.

"And you a great dancer." She smiled. "Who knows. Maybe we would have worked together. And become best friends."

"Save the 'verse through art. And science."

"You still can," Kaylee's voice said softly. The bed dipped again as Kaylee climbed on. She eased her body in the small space behind River and kissed her cheek. "The Alliance don't have you no more. You're free. You both can become great artists and stuff. Only, you know. Not famous."

River's face took on a dreamy smile as she leaned her head back against Kaylee. "Rebel art," she said. "Underground, influential. Subversive."

"What are we doing that's subversive?" Prophet asked. He lifted his head, sounding groggy.

"River and me are going to start putting on shows to twist people's minds against the Alliance," Camille said. "She'll dance, I'll act. Kaylee will do the special effects, since she's a genius with machines. And you can take tickets."

"Sounds good to me." He fell silent a moment, arm around Camille's waist, holding her like a teddy bear. Then he said to River, "You were always a good dancer."

Her face colored. "Thank you." She bit her lip, then said, "You were really smart."

"High praise," he said sardonically. "I thank you." Then he pressed his face into Camille's neck.

"Well, River," Kaylee said. "You have a big day tomorrow. Wanna get some sleep?"

"Can we stay?" she asked, question directed at Kaylee rather than Camille.

Kaylee looked at Camille questioningly.

"The more the merrier," Camille said with a half-smile. "We're all comfortable right now, like a litter of puppies."

She laughed. "Well, I guess you're right. We'll stay, then. Night, Camille. River."

River turned her head and kissed Kaylee. "Good-night."

Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu: I wish you a slow death, but a quick ride to hell.

* * *