Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2010-10-10 02:03 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2010-10-10 02:03 am
Sam/River - Remnants
Fandom: Supernatural/Firefly
Title: Remnants
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/River Tam, Malcolm Reynolds
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kissbingo Prompt: Body: Feet
Content Warning: Spoilers through 522: Swan Song.
Summary: They find him in the cargo hold, fast asleep, with no sign as to how he got there.
Author’s Note: Fordarkmagic_luvr. Somewhat related to this piece that I also wrote for her. I also wrote this all in present tense, don’t ask me why.
Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke and Joss. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
They find him in the cargo hold, fast asleep, with no sign as to how he got there. He is sure for a second that they’re going to kill him on waking. He would kill himself on waking. He isn’t sure how he managed to find his way back into the world again, let alone outer space, but when he opens his eyes, he sees seven pairs of eyes looking back at him and none of them he recognizes.
He isn’t focusing much on that at the moment. He’s focusing on what he feels—or more to the point, what he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel the thrust of Lucifer clawing at the corners of his mind, trying to fight his way to the surface. He isn’t sure how it happened, but there’s just him in there. Just … whoever he is. There’s a name on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to jump off but not quite finding the momentum. He doesn’t remember much of anything at all, really, beyond the fact that he isn’t supposed to be alone in his skin. That much has been emblazoned in his mind, and he doesn’t know what to make of it, especially when the person who seems to be the one in charge turns and looks at him, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Well? Plannin’ on tellin’ me why you’re on my boat?”
He blinks, like a deer in the headlights, and he’s unsure what to say. There’s a small girl in front of him, with wide brown eyes and long, long dark hair and for a moment, another face flashes through his mind. It’s a face that he doesn’t want to think about, a face that only causes him pain. This girl isn’t the same face, however, and there is something about her that puts him at ease. Almost as though she can see inside and tell him that he’s okay. The man who is demanding to know why he is on his boat just watches her carefully as she moves, his hand on the grip of his weapon. He’s sure that that’s meant to imply that the boat owner will shoot him if he makes any wrong moves, and Sam takes that threat just as seriously as he would any other.
“What do you think, mei-mei? He gonna bring me trouble?”
Her head tips to the side, and she moves forward, placing a hand over his heart gently. “There’s a hole where the light should be. He doesn’t even remember what the light is.” Her hand moves up, brushing up his hair away. Her fingers are gentle and soft and she gives him a small smile. “The Light Bringer isn’t here, Sam.”
Sam. He hears the name over and over again, in different voices echoing in his mind. It doesn’t bring back anything, but it feels right. It’s warm and it fits like it’s his own. “Sam.” His voice is scratchy from not being in use, but it does work. “That’s me. I’m Sam.”
“Aren’t we glad to have that mystery solved. Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing on my boat.”
“I … I don’t know,” he says softly. “I don’t know how I got here. I’m supposed to be somewhere else.” He couldn’t remember where, but there is definitely somewhere that he’s supposed to be.
“He’s safe,” the girl says, still letting her fingers slide through his hair. He’s not sure if she’s trying to reassure him, or the owner of the boat, but the tone of her voice combined with her hands is helping. “He’s just misplaced.”
“Misplaced. Any chance this misplacement involves puttin’ him back where he belongs?”
She shakes her head. “He doesn’t deserve to go back there.”
“Ain’t about what he deserves, sweetheart, it’s about there being a stowaway on my ship and not knowin’ how he got here.”
“He’s out of time,” she replies, before reaching forward and taking his hand. “He can’t go back to where he belongs. He needs to stay.”
Sam’s hand curls around hers on instinct. He’s not sure why the gesture is comforting, but it is. He doesn’t want to be alone in a place that he doesn’t understand, and this girl, whoever she is, is offering him that comfort. He’s not about to turn it away. The man with the gun watches them for a moment, before sighing.
“He’s your responsibility, River. If this blows up in my face, then it’s mostly blowin’ up in yours.”
Sam isn’t sure if he should be grateful or concerned, but for now, and he is just happy to be safe.
***
River moves on quiet cat feet, soft padding that comes from behind you. She moves with elegant lines and shapes, the graceful ease of someone who had always been aware of her movement without being aware at all. She sneaks up on everyone, slipping in and out of the hidden nooks and crannies of the ship that she speaks to, and appearing where she’s least expected to be. Sam, however, can always feel her coming. He doesn’t know how or why, but he does. Her presences stays on the corner of his mind, light and easy like a warm blanket.
He sits at the port window, watching as the stars fly by. He’s still amazed that he’s in outer space, traveling between planets and seeing the world from a whole new perspective. There still isn’t a lot that he remembers, but River doesn’t make him feel incomplete for forgetting. If anything, she fills in the blanks, finding the pieces of his information his mind can’t fit together and putting them together for him. It makes him feel less alone, and that is more than he could ever ask for, especially when he’s out of sync with his own world.
River comes up behind him, her hand moving over his shoulders and up into his hair. He doesn’t let a lot of people touch him, but she’s always welcome, something feather light and never too intrusive. He turns at the touch, flashing her a smile as he leans back into her hand, enjoying that light pressure between them.
“Your thoughts are far away again,” she says softly, giving him a small smile. “You miss things if you think too much.”
Sam just looks at her for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’m just trying to remember.”
“Some things are better left forgotten.”
Her face is teasing, but her eyes are serious, almost as though she has things that she couldn’t remember, and feels better letting them fall to the wayside. Sam, however, can’t let things go that easily. He needs to know, to remember what his life was like before this ship. It’s not something he can just turn off and push to the side. There are words. Voices. Names that filter through when he sleeps and whispers to him as he walks. Names that he wants to put faces. There are too many mysteries in his life, and he wants there too be less.
River continues to watch him for a moment, before crawling into his lap and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s quieter if you don’t hold on so hard.”
He closes his eyes at the kiss, but when he opens them again, there’s another face across the room. A face he should know, but can’t put a name on no matter how hard he tries. He looks desperate and pleading, almost as though he’s trying to get Sam to realize something, but he doesn’t know what. Then he hears the word—the word that doesn’t have an audible volume that he can hear, but he still hears it nonetheless.
Sammy.
It triggers something. A flood of images come rushing forward, but they are all jumbled—they don’t make sense. Only one thing seems to stick out and make sense, and it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Dean.”
River turns and looks, then frowns. Almost as instantly as he is there, the apparition is gone, leaving nothing for Sam to see but the emptiness of the hold around them. She turns back to him again, before wrapping her arms around his neck and curling in closer.
“Just sleep, Sam.”
He does. It doesn’t help, but he does.
Title: Remnants
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/River Tam, Malcolm Reynolds
kissbingo Prompt: Body: FeetContent Warning: Spoilers through 522: Swan Song.
Summary: They find him in the cargo hold, fast asleep, with no sign as to how he got there.
Author’s Note: For
darkmagic_luvr. Somewhat related to this piece that I also wrote for her. I also wrote this all in present tense, don’t ask me why.Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke and Joss. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
They find him in the cargo hold, fast asleep, with no sign as to how he got there. He is sure for a second that they’re going to kill him on waking. He would kill himself on waking. He isn’t sure how he managed to find his way back into the world again, let alone outer space, but when he opens his eyes, he sees seven pairs of eyes looking back at him and none of them he recognizes.
He isn’t focusing much on that at the moment. He’s focusing on what he feels—or more to the point, what he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel the thrust of Lucifer clawing at the corners of his mind, trying to fight his way to the surface. He isn’t sure how it happened, but there’s just him in there. Just … whoever he is. There’s a name on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to jump off but not quite finding the momentum. He doesn’t remember much of anything at all, really, beyond the fact that he isn’t supposed to be alone in his skin. That much has been emblazoned in his mind, and he doesn’t know what to make of it, especially when the person who seems to be the one in charge turns and looks at him, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Well? Plannin’ on tellin’ me why you’re on my boat?”
He blinks, like a deer in the headlights, and he’s unsure what to say. There’s a small girl in front of him, with wide brown eyes and long, long dark hair and for a moment, another face flashes through his mind. It’s a face that he doesn’t want to think about, a face that only causes him pain. This girl isn’t the same face, however, and there is something about her that puts him at ease. Almost as though she can see inside and tell him that he’s okay. The man who is demanding to know why he is on his boat just watches her carefully as she moves, his hand on the grip of his weapon. He’s sure that that’s meant to imply that the boat owner will shoot him if he makes any wrong moves, and Sam takes that threat just as seriously as he would any other.
“What do you think, mei-mei? He gonna bring me trouble?”
Her head tips to the side, and she moves forward, placing a hand over his heart gently. “There’s a hole where the light should be. He doesn’t even remember what the light is.” Her hand moves up, brushing up his hair away. Her fingers are gentle and soft and she gives him a small smile. “The Light Bringer isn’t here, Sam.”
Sam. He hears the name over and over again, in different voices echoing in his mind. It doesn’t bring back anything, but it feels right. It’s warm and it fits like it’s his own. “Sam.” His voice is scratchy from not being in use, but it does work. “That’s me. I’m Sam.”
“Aren’t we glad to have that mystery solved. Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing on my boat.”
“I … I don’t know,” he says softly. “I don’t know how I got here. I’m supposed to be somewhere else.” He couldn’t remember where, but there is definitely somewhere that he’s supposed to be.
“He’s safe,” the girl says, still letting her fingers slide through his hair. He’s not sure if she’s trying to reassure him, or the owner of the boat, but the tone of her voice combined with her hands is helping. “He’s just misplaced.”
“Misplaced. Any chance this misplacement involves puttin’ him back where he belongs?”
She shakes her head. “He doesn’t deserve to go back there.”
“Ain’t about what he deserves, sweetheart, it’s about there being a stowaway on my ship and not knowin’ how he got here.”
“He’s out of time,” she replies, before reaching forward and taking his hand. “He can’t go back to where he belongs. He needs to stay.”
Sam’s hand curls around hers on instinct. He’s not sure why the gesture is comforting, but it is. He doesn’t want to be alone in a place that he doesn’t understand, and this girl, whoever she is, is offering him that comfort. He’s not about to turn it away. The man with the gun watches them for a moment, before sighing.
“He’s your responsibility, River. If this blows up in my face, then it’s mostly blowin’ up in yours.”
Sam isn’t sure if he should be grateful or concerned, but for now, and he is just happy to be safe.
***
River moves on quiet cat feet, soft padding that comes from behind you. She moves with elegant lines and shapes, the graceful ease of someone who had always been aware of her movement without being aware at all. She sneaks up on everyone, slipping in and out of the hidden nooks and crannies of the ship that she speaks to, and appearing where she’s least expected to be. Sam, however, can always feel her coming. He doesn’t know how or why, but he does. Her presences stays on the corner of his mind, light and easy like a warm blanket.
He sits at the port window, watching as the stars fly by. He’s still amazed that he’s in outer space, traveling between planets and seeing the world from a whole new perspective. There still isn’t a lot that he remembers, but River doesn’t make him feel incomplete for forgetting. If anything, she fills in the blanks, finding the pieces of his information his mind can’t fit together and putting them together for him. It makes him feel less alone, and that is more than he could ever ask for, especially when he’s out of sync with his own world.
River comes up behind him, her hand moving over his shoulders and up into his hair. He doesn’t let a lot of people touch him, but she’s always welcome, something feather light and never too intrusive. He turns at the touch, flashing her a smile as he leans back into her hand, enjoying that light pressure between them.
“Your thoughts are far away again,” she says softly, giving him a small smile. “You miss things if you think too much.”
Sam just looks at her for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’m just trying to remember.”
“Some things are better left forgotten.”
Her face is teasing, but her eyes are serious, almost as though she has things that she couldn’t remember, and feels better letting them fall to the wayside. Sam, however, can’t let things go that easily. He needs to know, to remember what his life was like before this ship. It’s not something he can just turn off and push to the side. There are words. Voices. Names that filter through when he sleeps and whispers to him as he walks. Names that he wants to put faces. There are too many mysteries in his life, and he wants there too be less.
River continues to watch him for a moment, before crawling into his lap and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s quieter if you don’t hold on so hard.”
He closes his eyes at the kiss, but when he opens them again, there’s another face across the room. A face he should know, but can’t put a name on no matter how hard he tries. He looks desperate and pleading, almost as though he’s trying to get Sam to realize something, but he doesn’t know what. Then he hears the word—the word that doesn’t have an audible volume that he can hear, but he still hears it nonetheless.
Sammy.
It triggers something. A flood of images come rushing forward, but they are all jumbled—they don’t make sense. Only one thing seems to stick out and make sense, and it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Dean.”
River turns and looks, then frowns. Almost as instantly as he is there, the apparition is gone, leaving nothing for Sam to see but the emptiness of the hold around them. She turns back to him again, before wrapping her arms around his neck and curling in closer.
“Just sleep, Sam.”
He does. It doesn’t help, but he does.
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Pretty happy I found this though. ^^
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But I'm glad you liked this though. =D
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