She stops. Standing still, she hugs herself in the chill wind. She knows exactly where she is. The faceless void, the wind, the pit that yawns in front of her feet. She doesn't want to be here.
A short, bitter laugh, almost a bark, escapes her lips. She had thought that these nightmares had ended when she had fallen in love with Wash. Unfortunately, while love may be forever, marriage is a rocky road, another one of the cliches that she thought she could disprove. Once they started fighting, the dreams returned, albeit less frequently.
The worst part is the inevitability of it all. It's not like she has any choice in the matter. Lucid dreams are like that. Like an automaton, she takes the short steps into the pit...
...and emerges into hell. Walls of dead surround her, rivers of blood pool around her feet. The air is acrid, burns her throat, and the sky is a fearsome shade of green. Serenity Valley. She is in her uniform, stained with flash burns, sweat, and blood. The bulk of the Alliance cruisers fills the sky. Up there, the generals are nitpicking over a treaty. Down here, hundreds die each minute. Zoe is determined not to be one of them. That determination writhes in her belly, threatening nausea.
"Zoe!" her name is a command. Sergeant Reynolds is in front of her. She remembers the moment he changed. No longer the optimistic, happy-go-lucky man that kept his platoon together, his eyes are dark with betrayal, a glint of madness creeping in from the edges. He looks about ten years older than he did a week ago.
"Sir."
"Time for triage."
A groan escapes her lips. They had used up the last of the food supplies a couple of days ago. Clean water is in dangerously short supply. And she is scared to sleep. Too many soldiers have gone to sleep, and not woken up. She is determined not to die. She holds that to herself like a mantra, repeating, i will not die. i will not die.
The two of them are pacing along one of the gruesome walls. Humanity above, humanity below, the latter making obscene noises, letting the two walkers know that there is still life. Suddenly they come upon a purple uniform. The young man asks for water, and Zoe kneels down to help.
"No quarter. Kill it." the emotionless voice comes from above her.
"I can't."
"He can still be saved". Simon is beside her, a med kit by his side. For some reason, he is fresh and clean, shirt whiter than anything she's seen in days.
"You think so, doctor?" Zoe looks back to the purple uniform. The face is starting to look disconcertingly familiar.
"Of course." he flashes a boyish grin. "But what do I know? I'm still a kid."
Zoe looks beseechingly to her CO. The flat eyes are implacable. "Zoe, I gave you an order."
"Best thing to do in a case like this," The doctor's refined voice has been replaced by a heavy drawl. Jayne kneels beside her now. "is to slit it's throat before it turns on you." Before Zoe can move, the mercenary has a knife in his hand, which glints and slices in one easy motion. A fine spray of blood catches in her eyes, as she stumbles away. It's Wash on the ground, the opening in his throat mimicking his easy grin. As she starts back to the makeshift bunker, tears blurring her way, she hears Jayne's laugh, punctuated by the words, "Zoe, I'm cold." She's not sure whose voice says the latter, Wash or Mal, but she sure as hell knows she doesn't want to see either's dead eyes.
The smoke is less in the bunker, although the light is still that deathly color. She sits at the table, places her head in her hands, and weeps. Book is there, hand on her shoulder. "Once you learn to feel, you can't bottle it up ever again." he states, in his calm Shepherd's voice. "Fear can keep you alive." And now his voice and grip become steely.
Inara comes over from the kitchen area, with a cup of tea. Zoe realizes that the bunker has become the galley on the ship. Inara asks, "Why would you want to leave Serenity?"
Kaylee and River are playing a game in the lounge. Kaylee looks up, with eyes that smile incongruously. "Because it ain't ever goin' to leave you." Zoe's eyes are drawn to River, who holds something in her hands. The little girl is petting it.
River mutters. "You can win this, you know."
"What?"
River looks up with a smile. "This," and the furry whatever-it-is in her hand escapes, and scampers into the bowels of the ship. The crew starts yelling, "Catch it," pushing Zoe out the door.
She follows, shotgun at the ready, still not sure what is so dangerous, but certain in her ability to deal with it. It's her job after all.
Just like now. Serenity's corridors morph into configurations that would never fit on the ship. The light shifts again, from warm to cool blue. The acrid scents of antiseptics are blended with the musky smell of fear and death. Electricity charges the air. Zoe hears screaming, and she knows she's caused some of it.
After a short search through the unrecognizable corridors, she has cornered the ... creature. Mal is behind her, again ordering her, "Kill it."
"Must I, sir?"
This time there is a flicker of warmth in those eyes, as he tells her, "It's the only way any of us are going to get sleep on this gorram boat."
Zoe aims, braces for the recoil, pulls the trigger, and fires. It may of been overkill to use her shotgun, but it's better to be safe than sorry. She strolls over, and gingerly picks up the sad little blond bit of hair.
She laughs as she recognizes Wash's old mustache. The laughter wakes her, and suddenly she's in her bunk. Wash has rolled over, and away from her, taking the blanket with him. She smiles, plants a kiss on the back of his neck, curling her body around his. As he jumps slightly from the cold, she pulls the blanket back over herself, and falls back asleep. Dreamless, for a while.