"Dark eyes, dark heart," River answered, feeling flaring up too sharply as Sam answered. The words came to her, unbidden, twice more before she was able to stop. The meaning of the quote in the context of Sam's life became more clearer. Brother there -- but not.
She could see Simon coming to get her, standing in front of her, fingers tentatively plucking away a needle, removing medical equipment. I'm here, I'm here. But he had been afraid that she wasn't there any longer, all assessments done in the past tense. She was River, no longer is. But she would get better, she would.
"He'll get better," River said, her voice taking on the intensity of a threat. And despite the emotional connection, her statement was also born of a logic: Rules were made for the Winchesters to be broken, because they were always there for each other.
"He's hurting somewhere," River answered, the emotions bleeding from her voice. It came almost disconnected. She hadn't picked up much from the man who looked like Mal -- very different insides. But there had been some notion of Simon in pain, back bowed, insides splintering, face shiny with sweat. In danger. Miranda. Miranda was danger. Beginning and end. Death. Death. Death. Simon and Miranda.