I don't know if this is needed but in other ones they have it, ummmm, I don't own any of these people, well the thing is mostly about Jayne, so I don;t own him. (Wish I did though) And I don;t own the series. I dunno what rating to give it, nothing overly bad, no romance etc...just boredom. PG I guess, haha, I should have called this "Jayne Being Emo" probably more accurate.

Jayne

“I’ll be in my Bunk” Jayne had said before he left. Of course he knew what the others were thinking. Jayne had never proved himself to be anything other than a gorram pig dog and he knew it. Throughout his existence, he had to carry that guilt and shame of being only concerned with himself and no others. He had considered changing, the thought had occurred to him more than once, but his reputation was already built, his lifestyle established. If he showed any sensitivity at all to others people would give him strange looks. Jayne couldn’t take the looks any more. He couldn’t stand Simon’s “you disgust me” look, River’s keen look that told him she knew his deepest secrets, Wash’s look that let him know that he was not well educated. He had never been raised proper, with schooling and discipline, but he had been well trained in the ways of the world and he figured that would be enough to get him by. In retrospect, it had gotten him by. He was on a ship earning decent pay and was able to support his family back home. He enjoyed being able to carry some of the burden of responsibility. He had never been trusted for much, when his family could finally afford to buy a dog his sister had been asked to look after him, they had named the dog Pooky. Jayne had always wanted to know that he would have been able to raise that dog, and he would have given him a better name, like Battlebee, not some girl name. Now Jayne knew that he would have been able to take the dog out for walks when they were needed, feed him everyday, train him to attack intruders, but he still had to deal with the looks. Jayne sometimes wished he could finally open up, spill everything, tell everyone that when his father died in the coal mines at age thirty, he didn’t understand. All Jayne was able to comprehend at the time was that dad would not be coming back, and that momma seemed to cry more than usual. It was hard, and Jayne profited from this; he became tough. There was no man that was going to kill Jayne, and no man that would be allowed to make fun of him just because of his girl-name. On second thought, he would give that dog a sissy name, Curly or Fluffy, just to have the other dogs pick on him and toughen him up. He took to using weapons, and he was kind to his mother and his sister, even if his brain capacity made it impossible to understand their grief, he could understand that he had to make life better for them. There was no opening up for him though, no therapy could cure him, no religion lesson from Book, a few hours of lifting weights could help him cope, but the anger would not go away. Jayne carried his life, the reality of living in a frontier, with nothing but the sweet smell of the country to take him lighten his load. That is until he became a criminal. He had never been one for making fine choices, but for once this seemed right. With nothing but a few guns, a bit of protein, and the shirt on his back, he had made his way into life, with nothing but opportunity before him. It was now that he realized he had to finally make a change, and try not to be the gorram idiot he was assumed to be.