MAL:

A rock exploded by Mal’s left elbow and he sidled closer to Jayne and the last of their cover. Mal didn’t have to tell Jayne to save himself. He figured the merc would do that anyway. He only wished there were time to tell Jayne to look after Zoë – look after the crew – before he did what he had to do. Would River hear what he was thinking when he died? If so, he should probably keep his last thoughts of Inara PG-13. He briefly wondered if Inara would come to his funeral, but kicked himself for stalling. No time. Through the cloud of blasted rock and dust, Mal sprang into the air, ready to draw fire, but felt barely a graze before he was knocked to the ground again. The crunch of the jagged rocks against his spine sent him rolling away, and he crouched, taking in the scene. Dust burned his eyes, teasing his brain with visions that could not be. Jayne was on his feet, drawing the fire, dying in exactly the way Mal had planned to a moment before. In an instant, Mal’s feet were running some place, he knew not where. Safe from the bullets, he presumed, but his eyes could see nothing except the seared image of Jayne being riddled with holes. Choking on the swirling dust, Mal fought to close his dropped jaw. As he dashed back to Serenity, he began to feel the throbbing in his injured leg, the scrapes along his side, the bullet hole in his shoulder. He had been ready for death a moment ago. Was he shocked because he was still alive, or because Jayne had saved his life? The blood leaking down his body, mingled with Jayne’s in his mind and Mal feared he would pass out under the blistering sun. He could still hear the bullets flying, the shots blasting through the air, the exploding rock. Only there were no rocks exploding around him anymore. Sweat stung his eyes as he ran. Ran back to Serenity. He should not have let Jayne do that. He was the Captain. The Captain watches out for his crew. The Captain… Why? His breath became shallower with each step and the world swayed between blinding light and unforgiving black. Why, Jayne? Why would you die in my place?

*~*

RIVER:

River felt too much, from everywhere. The intent to kill. The willingness to die. Calming memories tinged with the sadness of good-bye. She coughed involuntarily as the dust clouded her mind and the fear loomed like a bogey-man. Time to block things out. She should not be distracted. Serenity sat patiently by the wall of a cliff, small pebbles coming loose and clanging against the hull. The ship awaited River’s command, and then they would fly this place; and River awaited Mal’s command. He would speak with his voice and when his ears confirmed what his mind thought, she would know the order was real. So she waited for his order, and blocked out the rest. Too much. A song invaded her mind, the melody unfamiliar, but the refrain confounding enough to grab her attention. Sometimes love has to drive a nail into its own hand. Although the refrain sang in Jayne’s gruff voice, River shuddered with wonder that such a complex thought would enter his mind. Not that Jayne did not entertain complex thoughts – just that in a fight, his mind rarely wandered far from his own self defense. Concentrating, River blocked the words. Blocked the cries from the battle. Her hands were shaking. Did she have time to find Simon before they returned? To stop the shaking? River reeled in shock, an image flashing through her mind and fading quicker than a dream. Mal had seen it all. Just what he had seen, she wasn’t sure, because his entire brain had gone numb. Tentatively, she opened her mind again to see if Jayne had seen too. To see if Jayne was still thinking deep thoughts. “Jayne,” she whispered, as if calling his name would force him out of hiding. He was invisible to her. She felt a pulse of pain with every step Mal took towards the ship and engaged Serenity’s engine, knowing the order would come soon. The image flashed again in her mind, but barely long enough for her to see Jayne’s determined face and feel Mal’s horror. Her mind received the solid, double-order from Mal: ‘Let’s move it.’ So she took off, making a hard burn for the safe point. Her hands were shaking harder now, but she knew it wasn’t the meds. Nothing Simon could fix. It was Jayne. His raffish thoughts would never again creep through her mind, making her shiver with revulsion. His guitar songs would never again impel her feet to dance. No more dirty looks when she stole the bread right off his plate. No more Jayne. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it off with the back of her hand. She kicked herself for trying so hard to block out his final thoughts. If she’d known they were his last, she would have listened better. But all she had was an incoherent image of Book bench-pressing less weight than he claimed at the dinner table, sharing the wisdom that repeated itself over and over again in Jayne’s voice. Sometimes love has to drive a nail into its own hand.

*~*

ZOË:

Zoë had been sitting at the edge of Serenity’s bay door, watching for their return, her stomach knotting. She couldn’t be sure if the sounds she heard were distant gunshots or pebbles rolling off the ship’s hull as they fell from the walls of the cliff. The radio tuned to the Captain’s frequency returned only static – no requests for rescue, no warnings of a quick departure. Her belly fluttered as the baby kicked, reminding her fiercely of why she was not out on this job. Antsy, she used the door handle to pull herself to her feet and began pacing, watching the clock, but knowing that time had no meaning when it came to clandestine affairs. The ship rumbled to life, telling Zoë that River had sensed their imminent return and need for a quick escape. Taking stance beside the door, Zoë prepared to offer cover fire if they needed it. Her breath hitched as a lone man limped a gallop around the last bend, high-tailing it to the ship, gun holstered. By the flapping of his browncoat, she knew it to be Mal. She waited and watched, expecting Jayne to come around the bend at any moment, but as Mal hobbled closer, the knot in her stomach grew. He was out of breath, his face white, his body coated in dust and blood. Zoë hadn’t seen him look so shocked since the day their angels abandoned them in Serenity Valley. When it became apparent that Jayne and a line of bandits were not on his heels, Zoë slipped out of Serenity and ducked under his arm, helping him to run back in. He leaned heavily on her, swaying with each breath. Once on board, he pulled the door closed behind them and locked it, saying in a strained voice, “Let’s move it!” Despite not using the comm, River responded to the command with practiced ease. Zoë’s heart sank, reading between Mal’s face and actions, knowing that Jayne was gone forever. Mal’s eyes closed and he fell on her so heavily, she nearly stumbled over. “Doc!” she cried out, kneeling slowly, as much to get Mal on the ground as herself. The horror on his face infected her soul, turning her bones to liquid. Jayne had not come back. They were accustomed to running as three. She’d disrupted the rhythm and now Jayne was gone. Falling to her hands and knees, then rolling to her back on the cargo bay floor, Zoë searched frantically for her own breath, hot tears threatening to choke her. If only she’d been there. If only she’d gone… Jayne might still be alive.

*~*

SIMON:

Simon laid out the gauze, irrigator, and sutures, hoping for a bullet wound. Most of the time, they came back with fairly minor and somewhat boring injuries – a scrape, a graze, minor dehydration. He knew he shouldn’t wish harm on them, but he was hoping for a little more excitement than just taping a weave on someone’s elbow. Since Bellerophon, it had become really fun to dope Jayne, and they were freshly stocked with drugs. He felt Serenity’s engines start, and poked his head out the door, listening to see if anyone shouted for a doctor. On hearing Zoë’s call, Simon dashed into the cargo bay, medkit ready. The ship swaying and lifting off told Simon that the men had made it back, and given that neither of them had done the shouting, both were likely injured. The urgency in Zoë’s voice was intense in a way he’d never heard before, causing his heart to quicken so much his hands shook. Doctor’s hands, he told himself. Cool, calm, detached. Feel later. When he crossed the threshold into the cargo bay, his body froze, momentarily forgetting how to move. Every heartbeat sent a pulse through his spine, happening in slow motion, every photon striking his retina telling a lie. Zoë lay on the floor, breathing heavily, one arm around Mal’s shoulder. If Mal was breathing, he gave no sign of it, aside from the occasional shudder that rippled through every muscle. A deep sob from Zoë startled Simon’s feet into action again and he walked toward the pair, his mind adamantly denying what his brain saw plain as day. Jayne was not here. Cool, calm, detached. Feel later. Simon wasn’t feeling detached, he was feeling numb. Feeling nothing. Not even the weakness of his own knees as they gave out and hit the floor with blinding force. Gathering the remnants of his composure, he crawled over to Mal, his hands deftly working to find and bandage wounds, while his mind circled in denial a thousand miles away. Serenity had once left him and River on a planet while they went finding help for Shepherd Book. This was no different. Jayne was fine. They just left him for awhile till the storm passed and they could go back for him. Jayne was fine. He was… Mal’s body shuddered again and Simon swallowed thickly, focusing on the task at hand. One look at Zoë’s face and the horrific truth infected him as well. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe, and count to ten. He lost count at five, but that would have to do. Cool, calm, detached. Feel later. Mal needed a doctor now.

*~*

KAYLEE:

Kaylee waited in the engine room until River had finished the hard burn. The fuel injectors were acting finicky and she wanted to be there to adjust the pressure manually should the valve decide to fail. It held today, proving once again that miracles do occur. She’d tell the Captain and he’d kiss her on the forehead calling her a genius before going back to whatever Captainy thing he was doing. By the time she finished, she figured the others would be in the galley, laughing up the tale, dividing the coin. But when she arrived in the galley, all cheer fled her body like cockroaches fleeing a light. Zoë sat, propped in one of the chairs like a rag doll, one hand on the table, the other on her stomach. Her face was ashen, her eyes staring fixedly at the space in front of here, concentrating hard on not spilling the welling tears. Kaylee fell into the seat next to Zoë, placing a hand on hers, too afraid even to fear the worst. Zoë told her in as few words as possible, not because she was trying to be terse, but because her words had failed her along with the rest of her body. The news stabbed through Kaylee like a knife and she felt the air evacuate her lungs like she’d just been spaced. She collapsed onto her own arms and cried into the placemat; Zoë was still in too much shock to offer a hand of comfort, but Kaylee didn’t want a comforting hand right now. She didn’t want a platonic pat on the shoulder and empty assurance that everything would be okay. She wanted Jayne back, plain and simple. Sobs rolled through her body like waves. Wash and Book she could accept comfort for. They had died for a cause – to speak for all those people on Miranda. But Jayne had died for two thousand credits. A pittance of a take, not worth the life of a man. Two thousand credits. She’d trade two thousand times that just to have him back. She was still crying when Simon entered the galley, speaking some manner of detached, doctorly assurance about Mal’s recovery. When no one responded, Simon scooted a chair next to Kaylee, put his arm around her, and placed his chin on her shoulder. He had traded his doctor stance for his boyfriend stance, but she didn’t want him to calm her down just yet. Jayne was gone; she needed to grieve. And she nearly shrugged Simon off before she felt his tears streaming down her cheek, right behind her own. Overwhelmed, she sobbed in rhythm with him, the realization hitting her – he was weeping too.

*~*

INARA:

Inara finished teaching her class and returned to her room to freshen up and plan the afternoon. The rain poured drearily outside, threatening her high spirits, but small foot-lamps lit the way to the gazebo on the far lawn, tracing a path through the storm. As she pulled on a rain cloak, she noticed the light on the console blinking. Probably Kaylee calling to go over wedding details or to change the invitations again. She went to still the blinking light, resolving to listen to the message later. She was half-way down the hall when a heavy gust of wind blew a tree branch against the window in the causeway making her rethink her prayer walk to the gazebo. Inara loved thunder storms, but this seemed strong enough for funnel clouds. Feeling a strange tug on her spirit to return to her room, Inara headed back figuring she could check the weather on the cortex and listen to Kaylee’s message as well. But it wasn’t Kaylee who called, it was Zoë. The message contained only three short words, soaked in desperation. “Call back soon.” Her mind going numb, she listened to the deafening sound of her own breathing, trying to wring meaning from those three words. Zoë wasn’t prone to calling her, and she immediately assumed the worst had happened. That Mal had died. If that were the case, she didn’t want to call back at all. When she finally worked up the nerve to hail Serenity, Kaylee’s mournful face appeared on the vid, looking as though she’d barely reined in her own tears. Inara was crying before either could speak. Fresh tears streamed down Kaylee’s face as she told her the news – Jayne was dead. They didn’t much know how as the Captain had gone practically mute since that day. Inara closed her eyes and bowed her head, her shed tears suddenly changing flavor. It wasn’t Mal. She felt guilty for feeling grateful, guilty for the relief that flushed through her even as she watched Kaylee struggle to retell the story. Looking at her posh room on her safe world, she felt guilty for returning here and leaving Mal to deal with this alone. This wasn’t where she should be! What was she doing here when she belonged on Serenity? And why? Why could she only think of herself and Mal when Jayne was dead?

*~*