Who: River Tam and ghost!Doctor/Interviewer What: In which River gets triggered to take no prisoners because of dreams and questioning ghosts and codenames. Oops? When: 23 September, around 4 pm Where: Streets of Lawrence to the park. Warnings: Vague reference to violence and murder. Status: Narrative | Complete
River didn’t like this. Things were too loud. Too unstable. The ghosts were everywhere. She felt them. She tried not to but she did. And some were nice and fuzzy and warm but others were cold. Dark. Painful. Angry. So much anger and hate. Then there was hers. The doctor. The interviewer. Two by two, hands of blue. She was there all over again. He kept asking her questions on her progress. Why wasn’t she sleeping? There was a pea. And everyone was screaming. They weren’t really but she could hear it couldn’t she? What were they saying?
She didn’t want to tell him. The teen had done everything she could think of to shut him out. Shut all of them out but they kept prying. Not at her. Just him for her. But at their chosen tether. Sometimes they weren’t so bad. But River still felt them. And she especially was aware of the vein man. The one who scared Mara. Because Mara was supposed to be stable. Her and Luke but she was scared and hurt and one less person was there to balance the dancer when the world around her spun.
And now Mara was hurting. Her ghost got angry. She had tried to yell at him but of course he didn’t listen. He didn’t care about her. About Luke. Just Mara. And Doctor Summers was asking how she could tell when no one else saw. She didn’t want to answer him, so she didn’t. She ran. Ran to where people weren’t so loud.
No. They were loud but they didn’t have ghosts. Not most of them. They were normal. Native. Not affected like the displaced. Death was taunting them. Poking them. Wanting to see what made them tick, what would break them. There was a lesson in this. There were always lessons with sticks. And she didn’t like it.
“Stop meddling.”
The comment was mumbled in annoyance, the teen twisting her hair in agitation as she ducked into the park. She wanted to get away. Find her tree where things were quiet. Stefan had found her before. Stopped her from pulling the skin off to make it go away. But he couldn’t stop the ghosts. No one could stop the ghosts until they were told to go away.
“You feel it, don’t you”
“He’s angry.”
“Why is he angry, River?”
“He gave her a mission and she didn’t do it.”
“She failed her mission.”
“Fell in love. New mission. New life. Mission was obsolete.”
“Is your mission obsolete?”
That got River’s attention. It made her focus on the situation at hand, at Doctor Summers. He remembered their last conversation. That she had a mission.
“Not complete yet.”
“Will it be?”
She didn’t like this conversation. It was pulling at things. The nightmares from Dark. The nightmares from before. He made them worse. She couldn’t sleep because she didn’t want to. Because she couldn’t. The pea was in her spine and in her head.
“Not of consequence. This world is different. Earth that Was... the mission--”
“Is secret. But you showed it to me.”
Looking up, River’s gaze focused on the pen that still was jabbed in Doctor Summer’s throat.
“Doing such good work. You were in the way.”
“In the way of what, River”
“The truth.”
“And what is that?”
Whimpering, the lithe dancer slid down against the tree, hitting her temple with the palm of her hand. She didn’t want this conversation to continue. She didn’t want to think or feel. She wanted it to stop.
And then... things stopped. Slowly she stood up, something pulling her up. Slowly she turned her head and looked to where she heard it. A name on the wind.
Miranda
Her eyes glazed over, her body going into autopilot, the moves dangerous and graceful. Deadly. The message. The mission. Protect the secret. They couldn’t know the truth. The Pax. It made them. Reavers.