Serenity: Deception

Chapter Three: Part 2

"Where's Kaylee?" Mal asked River.

"Exactly where you think," River replied.

"That's why I hate romances aboard the ship, makes things all sorts of complicated," Mal said.

"You would know," River said.

River sat up. Her bare feet hung off the catwalk, her arms folded on the cross piece of the railing and her head resting on them. Her hair was pushed to one side so she could look out at the cargo bay. Jayne worked out, bench pressing an impressive amount of weight. With each rep he grunted and upon the final rep, placed the bar back on the upright holders. He sat on the bench and wiped his face with a towel. Nate crossed the cargo bay and stood in front of him.

"What's the deal with this River girl?" Nate asked.

"What?" Jayne asked, astonished by the question. "You horn dog. They ain't got no whore house on this rock? Trust me, she looks real pretty but there's ain't a way in all the 'verse you bed her. Hell, she's half your gorram age."

"Jayne, Nate," Mal said, "dinner's on the table," Mal looked up to the catwalk. "You hear that River?"

"Not hungry," she replied.

"Your loss lil' one," Mal said.

Mal, Jayne and Nate left the cargo bay, leaving River alone. The cargo bay was empty except for a few supply crates and Jayne's weightlifting gear. There was a beauty to the static nature of a room uninterrupted by people. River sat aloft, looking down at the still world like a goddess in the heavens. It was this sort of tranquillity that River coveted so desperately within her mind and body, void of intrusion from others.

In the dining room, the crew laughed at one of Nate's charming antidotes. River could hear them as she silently approached the dining room. River watched in hiding. The way he smiled seemed sinister. She could feel something terrible lurking beneath his friendly façade. As the crew laughed with Nate, River spied on him; something behind his warm blue eyes was dead as though he was empty. River searched his mind and shivered. No thoughts flooded her conscious just a cold feeling that made her tremble.

River sprinted to her room and collapsed onto her bed as the cold feeling was replaced by flashing images. The blood soaked memories played like a film in her head, each horrid and heinously violent. River convulsed on her bed, her eyes rolled back into her head and she reached out desperately for her pillow. When she found it, she took it in her hands and pressed it against her face and screamed. Her chest heaved as she took gulping breaths. When she took the pillow from her face it was damp with tears. Her nose began to bleed. The blood ran down the side of her face and dripped onto the bed sheet.

The next morning River crawled from bed, her head aching. She lay awake and as still as the dead for the entire night. She walked to the bathroom, ran the water until it was warm and then wet a face cloth. She scrubbed the dried blood from her cheek and above her lip thoroughly. When she finished, River made the familiar journey to the bridge.

Arriving on the bridge, she saw Nate in the pilot's chair. When he noticed her, he turned around and faced River. She looked at him and saw the image of his hands wrapped tightly around a man's neck; the man was gasping, his face twisted in agony. She crossed the bridge and sat in the co-pilot chair.

"You gonna always be sitting there?" Nate asked.

"No," River replied.

"Good."

"I plan to be sitting there soon," River said.

"What's a pretty lil' thing like you wanna pilot a big ol' ugly ship for?" Nate asked. He looked at the plastic toy dinosaurs on the pilot station and reached out for one.