All comments and disclaimers in full in Ch 1 (Simon), it's the usual fare: not mine. Comment or send feedback, wily_one24@yahoo.com.au

***

"That's the way it's always been.

It all comes down to creating time.

We don't always have to make it right.

We'll all drive by in our hybrid lives.

Chances are... chances are...

We'll make it back."

- Sheryl Crow.

***

It was like living underwater, drifting through the throbbing pulse and eddy of it, she let herself bend with the flow and didn't question it, didn't explain it to anyone, even if they asked, because some things weren't meant to be told.

Her feet held the weight of her body, River pressed them into the metal of the ship, letting the steel grating force lines into her flesh as she walked. The balance of her body was held somewhere deep in her belly, the center of her, the midpoint of her hips, the place where she could breathe in and tighten everything to a point. Make it all so small she couldn't be seen.

Her brain, everyone had said it in one way or another, even if it wasn't out loud, held the horror of her.

She knew different, but she didn’t elaborate, her brain held the horror of everyone else. She didn’t tell them this, because she didn’t want them to know, to ask about it, to crave answers she couldn’t give them.

They all tried, even if they didn’t want to, she could feel it trickle over her like eggs cracked over her skull, slimy and slick. A small hint, or a glance, a hidden look, they wanted to know what she saw, what she has seen, what has seen her.

And maybe, if she closed her eyes and wished real hard, maybe the one person who deserved and needed it most of all wouldn't ask her. She'd never been that lucky.

Zoe sat in the pilot’s chair, already eaten up by her memories, torturing and soothing herself all at once by touching the plastic toys. River understood it, knew the feeling well, like pressing a wound that's trying to heal, wanting it to ache that little bit more.

Sometimes she couldn’t let go