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crossoverficTitle: Metal Fingers Wrapped Around His Heart
Author: Rosie1234
Fandom: Firefly/T:SSC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 550
Ships: John/River, John/Cameron
Spoilers: Season Two
Summary: “It's been a while, my savior, it's been forever. How are you and the millions of souls that lie on your shoulders?”
Note: Yay, only one more to go! Both John/Claire and John/River were my first crossover (and first ever fanfictions) couples I wrote, but let's hope it's ten times better. It's a sequel to the first one I wrote, No One Is Safe. Plus this is as close as a John/Cameron fic from me is going to get.
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10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: “Hero”
Disclaimer: Not Mine .
“It's been a while, my savior, it's been forever. How are you and the millions of souls that lie on your shoulders?”
It takes him only the first glance (filled with longing for cold metal fingers) my way to tell I'm not her, the one that doesn't feel a thing while I on the other hand feel everything, and all that does to our hero is make his smile fall.
Which after the many hits it has taken, and the world does so enjoy to cut it into bits and pieces, its a miracle that he can still smile back at me.
But that's all thanks to the metal hand that he handed his heart one day one and he isn't regretting it yet but will soon.
(not a bit afraid that they would close and crush it without hesitation)
“You're not her are you?”
His wide eyes look me over, head to toe, and see clearly that my body screams human (if not one hundred percent human) instead of the metal that he wants to take into his arms.
The one that he surrendered his heart to not so long ago, gave it up to someone that doesn't even have one to give him back, how tragic.
(tears bud at the fate that rests in his hands and his alone, ones that are already faded and worn)
“No, not even a little bit. My body has been flesh from the very start and I have my very own tarnished soul that is not made from metal and computer chips, Johnny-boy.”
The metal girl, the one that speaks words of love and does not mean any of them (just uses them to keep him in her pocket), is missing in action and yet she still holds our heroes fate and heart in her palms.
“River is it? Yes I remember you and I'll never forget our brief but strange meeting. Well, you talk in nothing but riddles and rimes but still I understand every word.”
(and yet my warnings, of love so wrong it burns, goes unheeded)
“You're not alone in that, Connor, and it won't end. Not today, when the world isn't yet burning, or when I'll meet you again, after judgment days as laid waste to everyone and everything. But for now until next time, remember somethings are not what they seem.”
My rambles, the ones that never stop coming but mean something for each person (as I see their future step by step), were not just nonsense words but the dance between human and machine in two sentences or less.
And before he could try and understand my basket full of symbols I was back to the only place that can be called my home sweet home (rusty red and supplied with a view of the stars first hand) and appearing in front of a set of wide eyes.
“River, what the hell was-”
“Don't even ask.”
Author: Rosie1234
Fandom: Firefly/T:SSC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 550
Ships: John/River, John/Cameron
Spoilers: Season Two
Summary: “It's been a while, my savior, it's been forever. How are you and the millions of souls that lie on your shoulders?”
Note: Yay, only one more to go! Both John/Claire and John/River were my first crossover (and first ever fanfictions) couples I wrote, but let's hope it's ten times better. It's a sequel to the first one I wrote, No One Is Safe. Plus this is as close as a John/Cameron fic from me is going to get.
For:
10_hurt_comfort Prompt: “Hero”
Disclaimer: Not Mine .
“It's been a while, my savior, it's been forever. How are you and the millions of souls that lie on your shoulders?”
It takes him only the first glance (filled with longing for cold metal fingers) my way to tell I'm not her, the one that doesn't feel a thing while I on the other hand feel everything, and all that does to our hero is make his smile fall.
Which after the many hits it has taken, and the world does so enjoy to cut it into bits and pieces, its a miracle that he can still smile back at me.
But that's all thanks to the metal hand that he handed his heart one day one and he isn't regretting it yet but will soon.
(not a bit afraid that they would close and crush it without hesitation)
“You're not her are you?”
His wide eyes look me over, head to toe, and see clearly that my body screams human (if not one hundred percent human) instead of the metal that he wants to take into his arms.
The one that he surrendered his heart to not so long ago, gave it up to someone that doesn't even have one to give him back, how tragic.
(tears bud at the fate that rests in his hands and his alone, ones that are already faded and worn)
“No, not even a little bit. My body has been flesh from the very start and I have my very own tarnished soul that is not made from metal and computer chips, Johnny-boy.”
The metal girl, the one that speaks words of love and does not mean any of them (just uses them to keep him in her pocket), is missing in action and yet she still holds our heroes fate and heart in her palms.
“River is it? Yes I remember you and I'll never forget our brief but strange meeting. Well, you talk in nothing but riddles and rimes but still I understand every word.”
(and yet my warnings, of love so wrong it burns, goes unheeded)
“You're not alone in that, Connor, and it won't end. Not today, when the world isn't yet burning, or when I'll meet you again, after judgment days as laid waste to everyone and everything. But for now until next time, remember somethings are not what they seem.”
My rambles, the ones that never stop coming but mean something for each person (as I see their future step by step), were not just nonsense words but the dance between human and machine in two sentences or less.
And before he could try and understand my basket full of symbols I was back to the only place that can be called my home sweet home (rusty red and supplied with a view of the stars first hand) and appearing in front of a set of wide eyes.
“River, what the hell was-”
“Don't even ask.”
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