Title: Voice in Dreams

Author: Sullen Siren (adena(at)direcway(dot)com)

Summary: "He knew he was dreaming. He wasn't sure if that meant it wasn't real."

Rating: R with an NC-17 slant, possibly.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of worth. Please don’t sue. Firefly and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, the Evil Fox Corporation, and so on. Definitely not mine. I'm just playing with their toys a bit.

Feedback: Loved and worshipped and greatly appreciated.

Note: Written for virtualinsomnia's (http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=virtualinsomnia) Simon Ficathon. I drew magijessamyn (http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=magijessamyn), who requested a story confined to the infirmary and featuring Simon/River. It went darker than what I planned to do, jessamyn – hope you like it anyway. Crazy Space Incest Alert – don't say you haven't been warned please.

"Your father would be appalled." Her voice was soft and measured, proper and educated. His mother's voice, colorless as water with the hard bitten edge of vodka. "All of the money we've put into your education and you spend your time playing with toys." Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot. As a child he'd imagined if he pulled the knot free, maybe his mother would smile, open up – be soft and loving instead of cool and distant. She'd cut it when he was older, and he'd given up the dream and realized that she'd always be what she was. "Honestly Simon, what is it you're trying to do to us?" Precise tones, the movements, the stance. But all wrong.

He shook his head and looked down at small hands – boy's hands – attached where his own should be. "I just . . . she wanted me to build her a castle."

Lips twisted up into a smile that never reached her eyes. "River will learn her place – it's time you knew yours."

Dark eyes, pale skin, dancer's grace. His mother