Jayne had his tongue just millimeters from the pretty girl’s neck when he heard the scream. He froze, not in apprehension, but rather curiosity, and listened. The pretty girl leaned back, rubbing against him. The sounds of serving trays, howling drunks, and mediocre music folded around him, urging him to sink back into the fantasy of his lust. No one else had paused to listen. No one else had heard. He sank his teeth into the pretty blonde’s shoulder, dismissing the sound as a ghost from a past job. Her hands were all over him, sending his blood pumping. She was leading him to a secluded broom closet when he heard the scream again. Something urgent. He needed to explore. The pretty girl ignored his attempts to detach himself from her. Frustrated, he finally picked her up, carried her to the broom closet, and closed her inside by herself, promising he’d be back soon. Adjusting his belt, and redirecting his blood to his brain, he trotted down the stairs into the dusty world, already dimmed by the sun’s retreat. Hand tracing the butt of his gun, he listened for the scream again. Or a muffled cry. Anything to justify him leaving that pretty whore alone in a broom closet. He knew if there was one sound he could hear even through the roar of a hundred space ship engines, if there was one sound he’d run through the gnashing teeth of a legion of Reavers to calm, it was Kaylee’s scream.

*~*

Kaylee bit the hand covering her mouth, letting loose a muffled scream. She kicked her legs wildly in the air, her hand gripping her assailant, trying desperately to keep her head from being ripped off her neck. He’d come at her from behind, just as the dusk became dark enough for street lamps, dragged her into an ally that smelled of urine and stale fish, and thrown her against the brick wall, busting the skin on her temple. Kaylee let loose a piercing scream of bloody-murder and that was when his hand had covered her mouth. He lifted her bodily into the air, and shoved her against a sticky green dumpster. Her forehead hit the corner with blinding force and she fell to the ground. Scrambling to her knees, she crawled toward a form at the opening of the ally, gasping a cry for help. The stranger was no help. He kicked her face and she fell to the ground. The first man grabbed her ankles and dragged her back along the asphalt and broken beer bottles. Was her vision failing or were there more than two? They pummeled her face and her ribs, tore off her necklace, and stole money from her pockets. They ripped off her boots exposing her feet to the hot night air and yanked at her hair. As the world went red, she heard a voice bellow, “Kaylee!” Loosely gripping the remnants of her consciousness, she lifted her head and gurgled his name through bloody lips. “Jayne.”

*~*

His intimidating silhouette did not stay at the head of the ally for long. With a thunderous roar, he charged into the melee, taking on the entire slew of assailants. They turned on him hungrily, like wolves on fresh meat. Jayne knocked the first man to the ground, stepping on him as he threw the next against the wall. They clubbed his head, knifed his side, tore at his flesh, but he brushed them off like flies, intent on reaching Kaylee. Her face masked in crimson and black, she pulled herself away from the brawl, her limbs like jelly. If she didn’t know better, she’d have believed that Jayne was endowed with superhuman strength by the way he fought. In fact, she did know better and she still believed it. He forced his way to her side, placing himself squarely between them and her. Jayne drew his weapon and shot three of the assailants. Still, they advanced. From nowhere, a knife flew through the air catching Jayne in the chest. With a startled gasp that made no sound, his strength vanished and he fell backwards onto Kaylee. The sheer force of his weight knocked the wind out of her and her eyes filled with stars, but she wrapped her arm around his chest pulling back as their assailants tried to drag him away. Before they could rob him completely, she grabbed the radio from his belt, pressed the call, and fought for enough air to speak. She yelped as her attackers tugged at Jayne, grinding her legs into the pavement. “Jayne, I’m a little busy,” Mal’s voice floated surreally over the din, but she cut him off. “Captain! Help!”

* ~*

By the time Mal and Zoë arrived, there was no fighting left to be done, only salvage. Kaylee huddled against the back wall of the ally, Jayne pulled over her like a blanket. Her arms and legs were wrapped tightly around him, her body quaking, her hair cut unevenly with a knife. They had been robbed of any loose article or bit of shine, right down to the sparkle in Kaylee’s eye. “Zoë, get the mule,” Mal ordered, steeling himself to the sight. As Zoë ducked off, Mal approached the scene slowly, not wanting to startle or frighten Kaylee. She watched his approach warily, shakily, no hint of recognition in her eyes. When he knelt beside her, she pulled Jayne’s body up over her head, like a shield. At the movement, Jayne gasped and coughed up a mixture of blood and broken teeth. Mal’s breath hitched in relief, seeing Jayne was alive, though just barely. He tried to move Kaylee’s limbs to get a better view of where Jayne was bleeding from, but she held on stiffer than a corpse in rigor. “Kaylee, mei mei, you need to let go,” he choked, hoarsely through his emotion. She faced him, her left eye swollen shut, her right pleading for reprieve. He placed his hand under hers and she gripped it so tight, he feared his fingers would break off. Zoë arrived with the mule and rushed to Mal’s side to help. Carefully, they detached Kaylee from Jayne and laid the heavy man on his back. Kaylee quickly wrapped her arms and legs tightly around Mal, just as they had been around Jayne. As Zoë tried to still the blood pouring out of the merc, Mal lifted Kaylee, carried her to the mule, and set her on the seat. She did not let go of him. “Mei mei, I need to get Jayne.” Still she did not move, pressing her quivering torso against his. If she could have, she would have dissolved right through his skin and taken shelter in his person. With no time to waste, Mal shifted her weight on his body, then walked back to help Zoë lift Jayne. He’d carry her as long as she needed. Zoë could drive back to the ship.

*~*

Kaylee was still clinging to Mal when they entered the Infirmary, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. A mixture of blood and tears stained his shirt, but at least she’d stopped shaking. He didn’t know how to hold her, how to soothe her. She was broken from every angle. With Simon and Zoë frantically tending to Jayne, Mal sat Kaylee on the counter and tried again to separate himself from her. As soon as she released him, her whole body trembled and she backed herself against the wall, her eyes darting around the Infirmary. “You’re safe, mei mei,” he whispered, touching her broken cheek. “You’re safe here with us.” He found a damp cloth and reached for her face again to clean the wounds, but she flinched and grabbed his hand. Mal froze, waiting for her to calm before moving again, but her hand guided his with completely different intention. She took the cloth from him and held it to her face; then she moved his hand to touch her leg. Mal watched her uncertainly, but she coaxed his fingers around her thigh until she flinched. Finally, he felt the break. She was telling him her leg was broken! “Lay down, mei mei, it’s going to hurt when I set this.” Kaylee shook her head and backed away from him, still holding the cloth to her face. “Where are you goin’?” he asked coyly. “I ain't gonna hurt ya. Well, I am, but only for a moment. Then it’ll be okay.” She managed a weak… something. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it would do for now. He gave her something to dull the pain, set the bone, and splinted her leg. Everything will be okay, he kept telling himself. Just patch her up good and strong. Everything’ll be okay. *~*

The Infirmary was dimly lit by the glow of monitors continually blinking to affirm that Jayne was still alive. The crew peering eagerly through the windows had slowly dispersed to catch a little shut-eye before morning. There was still plenty of work left to be done on this world, and with Jayne and Kaylee out of commission, that work would be all the more cumbersome. Her sedative wearing off, Kaylee stirred, the throbbing through her body assuring her that she wasn’t waking from a nightmare, but that she had actually lived it. As the monitors cast eerie shadows around the room, Kaylee forced herself to sitting and backed against the wall, searching the room for attackers. Blood pounded through her head, reminding her of every cut and bruise; her splinted leg ached. She thought of calling for Simon, asking for pain killers, but she didn’t want to disturb him. The pain had been much worse before, and she could handle this. Pain made her alert. Safe from attack. Her hand grazed the scarf Inara had tied around her head and she cried a moment for her stolen hair. She touched the bruise on her neck where her necklace chain had been broken free. The charm had been a defective ball bearing taken from the first engine she’d ever rebuilt. “Kaylee, you okay?” Jayne choked, his voice startling her. He breathed shallowly, trying not to tax his injured lung. Kaylee nodded, easing herself off the bed. Despite the protests of her broken leg, she hobbled to the sink to get Jayne a cup of water. “Where are we?” “Back on Serenity.” She helped him tip his head forward so he could take a sip of water. Kaylee had never seen him looking so weak. “Your leg?” he gasped. “Broke… when you fell on it.” Jayne guffawed, then winced, but the sound of his laughter made Kaylee smile. “When I fell on it?” he repeated jokingly. “Here I am trying to protect you from those hun dan and I break your gorram leg?!” Kaylee shrugged, touching the bruise on his cheek. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Jayne lay back against the pillow, trying not to laugh at himself, because it hurt too damn much. Kaylee focused her attention on him, because somehow his proximity was enough to keep the ghosts at bay. “Mei mei, you need to sleep,” Jayne told her, his own lids getting heavy. He fought his exhaustion, reading her resistance. “You want I should keep watch?” Kaylee shook her head, not wanting to lie down. Not wanting to close her eyes. How could he see right through her fear? “Call one of the others,” Jayne suggested softly. “They’ll keep watch over you tonight. They’d do it for you.” The exertion of talking overwhelming him, Jayne fell back asleep. The monitors kept blinking, assuring he was alive. The ghosts encroached, hovering at the edge of darkness, waiting to attack. Warily, Kaylee ducked her head, hobbled back to bed, and rested her back against the wall. She would not be caught lying down; she would not be caught unaware again. In case they came, trying to take what was left of them, she would be ready, keeping watch over Jayne. Because he had come for her.

*~*

The next evening, Kaylee’s hands were shaking as she poured herself another cup of tea. The hour was late. Most everyone was asleep, except Wash who was tweaking the nav circuits. Kaylee had been tinkering with the port thrust, more for the comfort of Wash’s presence than that it needed tinkering. He’d finally given up on suggesting that she rest and had recommended tea as an alternative. The world was still fuzzy through her swollen left eye. The galley felt huge and hollow, surrounding her with chill air and creepiness. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the water to boil, trying to convince herself that no one would jump out of the shadows here. She was on Serenity; the boat was locked up; she was safe here. So when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she yelped fearfully, knocking the pot full of boiling water to the floor. Her heart pounded against her sternum like a jackhammer, threatening to punch through her rib cage and find its own safe harbor. Adrenaline surging through her system, every sense on edge, Kaylee backed up against the wall, her hands coming up in defense as she looked for the person who had touched her. “River,” Kaylee gasped, putting her hand to her chest to keep her heart from bursting out. River stood, ghostly pale, so quiet and still, she looked like an apparition suspended in midair. She seemed startled by Kaylee’s reaction, her brown eyes surveying the spilled water, then stepping over it closer to Kaylee. Her pale, bony arms were scraped and bruised, her dress torn and speckled with blood. “Kaylee?” Wash called, bounding into the room. “You okay?” Kaylee looked back at Wash, the last tense parts of her relaxing at the sight of her would-be rescuer. “She just startled me is all,” Kaylee said softly, hobbling toward River. Wash noticed River as well. “Whoa! River, are you okay?" “Honey, what happened?” Kaylee asked, concerned. River didn’t answer. “We should get you to Simon,” Kaylee gushed, taking River’s hands. “Did she go outside?” Wash asked, quizzically, helping the already hobbling Kaylee guide River downstairs. River seemed confused by their concern, her lips parted, but not speaking. Softly, River’s fist uncurled in Kaylee’s hand, releasing a small trinket. Her eyes fixed on River, Kaylee led her friend back to the passenger dorms and woke Simon, her own paranoia drowned and overtaken by concern for River, who still hadn’t spoken. Wash helped Kaylee onto the side bed, elevating her injured leg so she could rest as Simon tended to his sister. Quietly, Kaylee opened her hand to see what River had placed there. Her body went numb when she recognized the necklace and ball bearing that the muggers had ripped from her body just a day before. Where had River gotten this? Then, as she looked at River again, the length of her scrapes, the shape of her bruises, the smattering of blood on her clothes, Kaylee felt fear creeping through her veins like spiders. As petrified as the day she saw River shoot three men with her eyes closed, Kaylee whispered, “Oh, River, what did you do?”

*~*