log: simon+hawke WHO: Garrett Hawke and Simon Tam WHEN: Backdated to a few days ago WHERE: The library WHAT: Simon is still fruitlessly searching for his sister, and Hawke has to drag him back to reality. WARNINGS: N/A
_________________
He couldn't find her.
Of course he couldn't; Betsy and Rachel both said that River was no longer here, which was different from River being dead. It meant, supposedly, that she'd gone back "home", but no one knew what that really meant. People had all kinds of theories about what happened to people when they disappeared. When Mal left, Simon had been content with that explanation. When Zoe disappeared, when Inara disappeared, even when Kaylee disappeared, he'd been willing to accept that finding them was impossible.
But with River, he couldn't accept it. How could he? He'd given up everything to save her before, and now his perspective had changed. What if they didn't simply go home? What if whoever was responsible for bringing them here then took her away for some purpose? What if she wasn't really gone at all, simply overlooked? Simon wasn't about to trust the word of a psychic if the life of his sister was on the line.
He hadn't been in medical for two days. He searched outside for hours, morning and night, and he'd been combing the tunnels for every possible crawlspace and nook where River might have gotten lost. There was no telling where she might have gone; she was prone to wandering, and could have been anywhere. She had to be somewhere. She hadn't disappeared. River was the only person he had from home, he was the one person he'd devoted his life to protecting. He couldn't just lose her.
He was checking the library for the fifth time, climbing a ladder to check the tops of the shelves in case she'd pressed herself between the shelf and the ceiling. She was small and flexible, capable of wedging herself into the tiniest spaces.
Hawke was only going to get Simon run himself ragged for so long. If he needed to run off for a few days and be in denial, then no one had the right to stop him, but…
It took some searching before Hawke thought to look in the library. He didn't spend a lot of time here; he was usually in the hospital or the tavern, if he wasn't acting as support for soldiers or guards. Thankfully, Simon was the only frenzied, paranoid doctor climbing up a ladder, so he made himself easy to find.
"Work's been very boring without you there to disapprove of me, you know." Hawke braced a hand on the stack, leaning next to the ladder and looking up.
Simon looked down, startled to be broken out of what felt like a trance — his single-minded obsession with finding River even when it was impossible had utterly taken over him. He hadn't shaved, and his hair was a mess. He usually took great care in how he presented himself, but it didn't matter now.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back until I find my sister," he said.
"The psychics can't even find her, Simon. You're just going to run yourself in circles like this." Hawke gripped the side of the ladder, holding it steady. "You look like hell. Come down, they're starting lunch soon."
"What are the psychics searching for? Some kind of mental signature? I don't know what that means." Simon knew that people had been insisting that River herself was psychic, that she was a reader, and while Simon knew that his sister was brilliant and intuitive, he couldn't believe that she actually had the ability to read people's minds. "I'm not trusting the word of someone who isn't even looking."
"That is looking for Betsy. You…" Hawke sighed. For all that he hated being serious about things, he seemed to do it a lot. He ran a hand over his face before he continued, "This isn't helping. She isn't here. You're just making yourself feel better by refusing to admit it."
"Stop," Simon snapped. He came down the ladder, specifically so he was on the same level when he said: "You're not the first person to tell me this, but I'm searching every inch of this place. I will tear this entire compound apart until I find her. And if she's not here, I'm finding out where they took her—"
"Listen to me." Hawke pulled Simon away from the ladder, both hands planted on his upper arms to force him to stay put. "She's gone, the same as everyone else who disappears and goes home, and what you're doing now is understandable, but it's not good. All that rage is going to burn you out and all you'll be left with is emptiness because you've kept nothing for yourself."
"I have nothing for myself."
Simon believed it. After everything he'd given up for River, Simon still felt like everything he did poured into protecting her, caring for her. His friendships and his career here meant little in comparison. If he gave up in searching for her, what kind of brother did that make him? If he didn't find out where they actually went when they disappeared, what good was he?
"That's not true." And then... Hawke trailed off, because he realized he didn't have a good argument for that. He'd never been able to talk himself out of feeling that way; how could he do it for Simon. "I… Simon, listen. People here care for you for reasons that have nothing to do with your sister. And maybe you still give away too much, but…"
He sighed. "I don't know, I don't have a good argument for this that doesn't sound unconvincing."
Simon folded his arms across his chest, frowning. The only thing that kept him from falling apart was the fact that he had emotional walls up, but it was clear that his sister's disappearance left him shattered. "Just … stop, Hawke. I know she's not here."
"I brought a flask if the pep talk didn't work."
Simon held out a hand. "I'll take it."
Hawke took the flask out of his jacket and handed it over. Glancing around, he gave up on the idea of a chair and just sat on the floor. It was cleaner than the tavern floor, and better hidden than the little tables and squishy chairs in other parts of the library. "Come down here, you're sharing that."
Simon frowned slightly, but after a moment's hesitation he sank down onto the floor. He had to lean up against the shelf in order to do it -- he'd been shot in the leg shortly before arriving here, and the muscles in his thigh didn't quite do what they needed to sometimes. Going from a standing position to the floor took a little extra effort.
Once he was settled, he took a long drink. Then another. And then another.
"I had a younger sister, you know." Hawke stole the flask back before Simon could get to a fourth and took a drink. "Bethany. Died when she was eighteen."
Simon frowned, straightening his shoulders a little. "What…? I didn't know that, you never told me."
"It's easier not to talk about it most days," Hawke admitted, handing the drink back. "She would be… Maker, twenty-nine now? Thirty, maybe? Hard to tell with the difference in realities. But she died, because I failed. We were close, especially after our father died, and she was my responsibility. I know how you feel, Simon, and I have no good advice for you."
"I'm sorry," Simon said hoarsely. He took another drink. "I …" He trailed off. He'd never talked about River before, not extensively. All he'd ever said was that River wasn't mentally stable and she needed to be looked after and cared for.
"River wasn't always like this. She was brilliant, she made me look like an idiot. She was …" He sighed, drumming his fingers against his flask. "She had an offer to attend a private academy and left home. It wasn't an academy. They experimented on her, they damaged her brain, they tortured her … she wrote to me in code, and I gave up everything I had trying to get her back. My career, my friends, my family."
"You did the right thing, not that you need me to tell you that. Bethany was a mage, same as me. I always cared more about keeping her from the Templars than myself -- thank the Maker we were never caught, if she'd been in a Circle during the Blight, I can't even imagine the horrors she would have been forced to witness even before demons took the tower over." Hawke shook his head. "You did the best thing. And the smart thing."
"I lost everything," said Simon quietly. "And I'd do it again."
He passed the flask back before slumping back against the shelves. "I'm sorry about your sister. I really am."
"Me too." Hawke took a long drink, enough to make himself cringe. "I'm sorry River's not here. It will hurt less, eventually."
Simon brushed his fingertips over his leg, over the scar from the bullet wound in his thigh. "I don't know what to do if I don't have her," he admitted.
"You make it up as you go, and eventually pretending stops being pretend. I didn't have the luxury of slowing down, but you, my friend." Hawke offered the flash back and gave Simon a nudge. "You have to decide to keep moving. It'll be harder."
Simon tipped his head back to drink again, ignoring the burn in his throat. He didn't consider himself much of a drinker, but he could knock more than a few back if the occasion called for it. When he lifted the flask to his lips to finish it off, he gave up and sank down to rest his head on Hawke's shoulder.
"Let me just stay right here for a little while," he said softly.
Hawke let out a long breath, stealing back the drink with full intent to finish it. "Take as long as you need."