I Wish I May…

River doesn't always like being in space. It's stifling. It engulfs her, wrapping her up in dark and fire. But when she's on a planet, ground beneath her feet and sky above her head, she loves looking up. She loves the twinkling lights. Ageless. Vibrant. Dead.

She drops to the ground, feeling coolness and dampness seep through the back of her dress. Above her, the gods wage war and celebrate triumph and never die. The stars hold so many stories, so many years. Stories passed from generation to generation are immortalized. A long-forgotten planet of blue-brown-green lives among them.

Fingers splayed wide, she reaches up. Her fingertips tingle. They are so far away, dying beautifully, but she feels as if she can touch them. She stares unblinking until her eyes start to water.

Star light…star bright… The first star I see tonight…

River remembers. The stars make her remember.

Mommies and Daddies hold their babies in front of a window and point. They speak of wishes and miracles. When the babies grow a little older, they stand in front of a window and chant: Star light…star bright… The first star I see tonight…

But the stars hold everything that isn't hers, as well. They hold that planet shining and dimming. Ending. Gone. They keep the secrets whispered from the lips of dreamers and the promises sighed from the lips of romancers. They hold the screams of the men and women who wasted away on the battlefield, blood sticky between their fingers and starlight shining in their eyes.

Lying on the grass, raised arm slowly going numb, she listens to the stars. She listens and watches for hours on end. She loves them. She loves them as she would a person. They have the brightness of Kaylee's laughter and the beauty of Simon's smile.

Eventually, even the stars fade. The sun begins to chase away the dark, leaving trails of gold, pink, purple, but she stays. She stays until the last, tiny star slowly slips away.