bakerstreet | always come ( back )

always come ( back )

ALWAYS COME BACK

meme;

They may be a rambler, a gambler, always on the run, a wanted criminal, someone with a higher calling, or just not the type to spend time with you (which may be fine by you), yet somehow, they'll always find their way back to your door. And they'll, again and again, find themselves wanting you, for support, for healing, for feeling alive, for venting frustration and anger, for anything and everything at all.

You'll welcome them with open arms...and an open bed, because you want them, too.

Comment: prefs, info, preferred role, etc.
Reply: to others.
Thread: with them.

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( ooc: either/or, though slightly more likely to be the one being returned to.

my pref rundown to avoid tl;dr. to sum it all up - open to anybody, the more unconventional the better; i'm especially a fan of crossover with fantasy canons like tolkien, GoT, et al. )

Edited 2018-08-27 00:57 (UTC)

[Interested in both canon and cross-canon CR, happy to do things in her world, your character's world, or a jamjar! In her canon, Beth's the likely wait-er, rather than the rambling so-and-so, but we can play it either way.]

( m/m or castmates preferred. either role. )

[ likely the one returning, but open to either role. ]

The verse. After Miranda, jobs were a lot harder to come by, even honest ones. Jobs got rougher, didn't go smoothly and sometimes caused a bit of a headache. Mal tried his best to lead his crew, it was what he knew. What he did. He had a crew to feed and pay. He had people in this verse that he needed to take care of, no matter what.

If that meant getting hurt, he'd do it. Take a bullet meant for someone else, he would. Getting himself nabbed to the point that they had to rescue him? Well, he had not planned for that to actually happen. And yet, sometimes it did.

Like now. Mal laid in the medical quarters, watching as Simon was finishing patch up yet another would, leaving him another scar and another set of stitches. Just one more for the road, he thought to himself. Mal shook his head. He was good at not making a noise, even if it gorram hurt him inside. He swallowed, wondering how he got himself into these messes sometimes.

She watched from the shadows as gege worked on Mal. She could practically hear it; her brother taking a small sense of pride and glee in making the captain hurt somehow because he dared to take her on this job. There was a long talk of it. Mighty uncomfortable and she knew that he was frustrated: wanting to put her in a glass box so no one ever hurt her again. Even after Miranda, it was a lot of the same. Stay on the ship, River. But she didn't.

As soon as Simon left Mal alone to heal up, dress, and return to captainly things, River slipped out of the shadows, pulled herself right up next to Mal.

"You didn't need to take the bullet for me."

Mal smiled, looking over at River as she slipped in beside him. One eyebrow raised and he gave his head a little shake as he answered her. "I'm thinkin' that your brother's anger kinda proves that I did." He chuckled, one hand reaching out for hers and threading their fingers together. He squeezed her hand, as good as he could without using too much pressure.

Mal was long used to Simon. He wasn't going to do anything about it either. It's Simon.

"Better to let the old man take the shot," he teased gently.

"Overprotective," she replied. River glanced up at him, eyes wide. "He's scared to lose you as a home too."

From how Mal was shot, left bleeding like that, River felt like she had when she had to take care of Simon and the others. She laid cover with Zoe while Jayne took Mal, barely conscious, back to the ship. She had snapped out of it when she saw Kaylee's frightened face and Inara dragging Mal away to Simon to be patched together again.

"You came back to us," she said softly. "All of us."

"Won't lose me. Neither of you. You're crew. You're part of my ship. Nothing, not even death, is going to change that now, little one. I mean it." Mal sighed, wincing slightly. Yes, Simon had fixed him up, but he was still going to be sore for a while.

His crew had saved him, just like he tried his damnedest to save them. It's what he did. And he tried hard not to think twice about it.

"River, bao bei ya gotta know that I am not leavin' ya. Er, any of you. Crew. Ship. You matter to me." He sighed, wanting to say more but unsure where Simon was. The last thing he needed was to rub this in Simon's face and upset him more.

She tilted her head, taking in what he was saying. They all mattered to him, that much was certain and obvious. River gracefully moved to stand before him. She cupped his face in her hands and leaned up, touching her forehead with his.

"Simon's gone to the engine room," she said softly.

Mal smiled. One hand reached up and he cupped her cheek, fingers toying with her soft hair. His eyes fluttered closed as she closed the distance between them. "Maybe I should go lay down," he said softly.

He pictured them both, laying together in his bunk. He knew she would see it.

"I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to put myself in danger. If I had to choose, I want you to live. Not me. I've lived a good life. You have more years ahead."

She released his face and took his large hand into hers. Simon would be busy in the engine room a while. Good, he needed to be happy now, free now. Just as River could be free. Both of them forged lives on this ship, leaving the Alliance and all that they had come from far and behind them.

She led Mal away and down the hallways, knowing the ship, familiar with it now, and opened the hatch for Mal's bunk.

Mal nodded his head, slowly pulling himself off the table. Taking her hand in his, he let her lead him out of the infirmary and towards his bunk. When it was open, he waited for her to climb down, following her into the bunk and shutting the hatch.

He moved slowly, his whole body hurting. A shiver ran through him as he moved over to the bed. "Don't know what I'd do without you, little one." A shiver ran through him and he laid down on the bed. He had no shirt on, just the bandages, but he was dressed from the waist down. "Never runs smoothly, does it?"

She sunk down into his bunk and led him down. River helped lay him out on his bed. Any other time, she would be excitable to see him without his shirt. But in this case...she ran her fingers delicately over the wounds, as if she could simply smooth the hurt and pain away.

"Your plans tend to not," she agreed. "But we have faith in you. We go anyway."

"And I'm a might glad ya do. Not really sure why ya do," he teased. Mal sighed, looking over at her, reaching up to thread their fingers together. "Why, little one? Why do you have such faith in me. I'm a bad man."

He didn't believe it, not really. Still, he needed to hear her say it. Gently, he pulled her fingers up to his lips, kissing them.

She sat beside him so that he wouldn't strain so much when kissing her fingers. His thoughts slamming into her mind hard.

"Because you're a good man. One that cares about his crew without question," she replied easily. River leaned down to touch her forehead to his, letting her dark hair curtain around them.

"River..."

Mal smiled and closed his eyes, a small sigh slipping out as her skin touched his. One hand moved up to cup her cheek, letting his thumb brush against her cheekbone as he reveled in her touch. It was an intimate gesture, one he would never share or do with anyone else on the ship. He'd grown close to her, much closer than he should have. She had wormed her way into his heart and it was too late for him to turn back now. He hated what had happened, but he needed to know she would be okay and she would live on.

Even if that meant living without him.

"Care about them," he whispered. "Care about you."

"Care about you," she echoed.

River curled up against his side, resting her head over his heart, hearing it beat, alive, beneath her.

"Come back to me?" she asked softly. "Always.. Here." She placed her hand over his heart, and then reached up to tap at his forehead. "And here." Then she moved her hand down along him until she could rest it against his belly. "And here."

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