flybywash: (the ghost months)
[personal profile] flybywash
Inasmuch as it can be, it is quantified as dark and silent and empty. The edges between things blur. They don't seem to be there most times -- nor is anything else. Imagine the blank forgetfulness of deep sleep, and stretch it endlessly in either direction.

Dreams may interrupt it, but not very frequently.

What is there most consistently is a knotted length of cord woven through with wires. Sometimes, more often than the dreams but not with any regularity, the rough rope catches him, and he surfaces, becoming definable again. He can feel the boundaries, touch his fingers to the smooth plastic sheaths covering the wire (green and yellow, though he can't see it), realize who he is and how he got there.

Wash sees the sky -- if only in his mind -- and remembers.

It lasts until the breath he exhales carries him back down, and he slips away, drifting to fill the nothing with more nothing.







Until one breath he draws hurts. He remembers, and it's...

The definition to his arms and legs and self has never been this clear, and when he opens his eyes this time --

There is light.

Light, a solid deafening rumble, and something cold beneath his palms. Wash claps his hands over his ears to block out the noise (this doesn't hurt, but he feels every ridge, every hair, a sharp prickle of heat) and gasps again. There's too much: he has to shut his eyes.

On the kitchen floor of Serenity, back pressed to the wall and legs curled awkwardly to his chest, Wash continues to drag in ragged breaths as he whimpers subaudibly.

Date: 2006-12-13 04:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
"Okay, kiddo. You had your dinner, now it's Mom's turn."

The voice is outside the kitchen, but getting nearer. There's no reply to it in actual words, as such, but there is a kind of sleepy, contented burbling noise.

Date: 2006-12-13 05:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
The hiss of breath isn't really loud enough to reach outside the kitchen, and Zoe may have battle trained senses, but her attention's on Naomi, and she steps into the kitchen still looking down at the baby.

"Okay, let's see what we've--"

Her voice breaks off, abruptly.

Date: 2006-12-13 05:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
"Wash..."

Zoe takes a moment to be glad Naomi's in her sling. She's not sure she trusts any of her limbs right now.

Only her legs are going to have to work, and her hands, because she knows there's only one way she's going to convince herself he's here.

Footsteps, and the slight rustle of clothes as she kneels down, and then one hand settles on his knee, one on his shoulder.

Stronger: "Wash."

Date: 2006-12-13 06:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Part of Zoe's still waiting for this to not be real, but she's aware, in a sort of detached way, that an enormous grin is starting to spread across her face.

"Yeah. It's me."

"An'...it's you." Almost a question.

Date: 2006-12-17 03:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe wraps one arm around his shoulders, the other automatically going to adjust Naomi's sling, because the hug (alright, it's more of a cling) that ensues wouldn't be fun to be caught in the middle of.

Muffled against his shoulder, "'Course I'm here. Point is, so're you."

Date: 2006-12-17 04:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
And just as quickly as Wash tightens his grip, Zoe pulls back enough to see his face, brow furrowing slightly in worry.

"Yeah. We're in the kitchen."

Naomi, perhaps tired of being ignored, squirms in her sling and bats one tiny hand against Wash's cheek. Zoe intercepts before she can do so again, eyes still focused on him.

Date: 2006-12-17 04:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Naomi latches onto his hand and looks up at him for a moment, eyes wide.

And then drags his fingers forward and tries to stick them in her mouth.

Zoe's expression clears a bit as she watches them, though her eyes are misty as well.

Date: 2006-12-17 05:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe gives a quiet, amused snort. "That she does."

She focuses on Wash again, smoothing back his hair with one hand.

"You okay? I mean--how do you feel?"

Date: 2006-12-17 05:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
"Okay,, Zoe says, and nods, and then says it again. "Okay. Guess maybe you just need t'...get used t' everything again."

Her hand slides around to cup the back of his neck, and stays there.

Date: 2006-12-17 05:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe manages a chuckle, though it's faint.

"Oh, y'know. Few times here 'n there, nothin' too bad."

Then, seriously, "We've been gettin' by. Had a few rough spots here an' there, but we're gettin' by."

Date: 2006-12-17 06:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe leans into the kiss, but gently, her arm encircling his shoulders again but trying not to put too much pressure on him.

It's okay, every line of her body says. I'm here, and you're here, and neither of us is going anywhere.

Date: 2006-12-18 03:17 am (UTC)
badinlatin: (blame sophie)
From: [personal profile] badinlatin
It's not any rare thing for anyone on ship to walk to the kitchen at any hour of the day or night.

It's just been awhile since Mal's run into his pilot there, and Mal's eyes narrow at the sight of Zoe and Naomi with the fairhaired man, rubbing at them with fisted hands to make sure he's seeing straight.

Date: 2006-12-18 03:25 am (UTC)
pirate_jack: (jack and the blue sky)
From: [personal profile] pirate_jack
He'd been following the other man, but as Mal stops dead blocking the door, Jack Sparrow peers curiously over his shoulder.

Black eyes widen, and then a slow, delighted grin appears.

"Good for you, son," he mutters. "Good for you."

Moving with stealthy care, he backs away from the kitchen and disappears down the corridor, leaving the crew to their reunion.

Date: 2006-12-18 03:33 am (UTC)
badinlatin: (flashback)
From: [personal profile] badinlatin
"...Shi a," and Mal's already moving closer to Wash and Zoe.

"When did you...How long have you been here?"

Date: 2006-12-18 04:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe looks up as well, half-turning.

...Yeah, that's a smile Mal hasn't seen in a while.

"Hey, cap'n."

Date: 2006-12-18 04:04 am (UTC)
badinlatin: (Default)
From: [personal profile] badinlatin
And Mal's glad of it, making the smile of his own reach a little bit higher.

"You need anythin'?" he asks Wash. "Doc need to check you out? You want somethin' to eat?"

Date: 2006-12-18 04:23 am (UTC)
badinlatin: (smile that crinkles at the corners)
From: [personal profile] badinlatin
Mal moves to the comm near the fore entrance of the kitchen, depressing a button, Doc? Make it to the kitchen. He adds a quick ma shong without any of the frantic tone that phrase normally has carried in the past.

Even with Wash still needing to get checked out and settled back in, it's good to see him, and Mal can't get the grin off his face.

At least he's not wearing one of Wash's gifted shirts today. That might have been awkward.

Date: 2006-12-18 04:43 am (UTC)
simon_doctor: (pleased)
From: [personal profile] simon_doctor
Getting from the infirmary to the kitchen doesn't take long, even with a brief stop to grab the first-aid bag. Mal didn't sound like anything was wrong, but --

Simon freezes in the doorway for a split second, and stares. A slow, half-disbelieving smile starts to spread across his face.

"Wash?"

Date: 2006-12-18 05:19 am (UTC)
simon_doctor: (pleased)
From: [personal profile] simon_doctor
"Hey."

He steps closer and crouches near Zoe, not quite kneeling and not quite sitting on his heels.

He's still smiling -- can't quite seem to stop -- but there's concern there too, now, as well as delight.

"How're you feeling?"

Date: 2006-12-18 05:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe shifts to let Simon have a better look at Wash, but doesn't take her arm from around his shoulder.

"Doesn't look like anythin's really wrong, just...everythin's three months out of practice," she comments.

Date: 2006-12-18 05:48 am (UTC)
simon_doctor: (smile)
From: [personal profile] simon_doctor
"It should pass, then."

Perhaps inevitably, somewhere in the back of his mind he's thinking of Eddie Dean.

"Did you just get here?"

Date: 2006-12-18 06:08 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (small real smile)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
There's no sound but that of bare feet on metal. No greeting, and no comments.

But River's watching around the edge of the doorway, now, tucked tidily out of the way.

And her smile makes her whole face shine.

Date: 2006-12-18 06:11 am (UTC)
simon_doctor: (smiling up)
From: [personal profile] simon_doctor
"I think we can hold off on the penlights for at least a day or so."

Beat.

"It's ... very good to see you, Wash."

Profile

flybywash: (Default)
flybywash

January 2007

S M T W T F S
 123456
789101112 13
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031   

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2017 08:34 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios