Archangel – Chapter Eight Author owns no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended. ------------------ Inara was startled by the knock on her shuttle door. She went to the hatch, surprised to see Mal standing there. Since when did he knock? She opened the hatch. “Mal?” “Can I come in ‘Nara?” Mal asked, almost hesitantly. Inara managed to stop a frown from forming. This was getting more odd by the second. “Of course,” she replied, opening the door wider. Mal walked in, barely glancing at her gown. She and Mal had crossed that line long ago, of course, but they were still distant enough that she kept her place, and he his. “What’s wrong, Mal?” Inara asked, concern clear in her voice. “I just needed ta talk,” Mal admitted. “I. . .you said some eye openin’ things earlier, and I. . .I’m at a loss, Inara. For what to do.” “Sit down, Mal,” Inara told him. “Would you like some tea?” “No,” he shook his head. “And I’m sorry ‘bout how I talked to you, earlier,” he added, almost embarrassed. “I should’a said that first, mind.” “It’s all right, Mal,” Inara smiled. “I’ve become accustomed to your. . .quirks, shall we call them?” “Well,” he shrugged. “I didn’t. . .hell, Inara, I can’t help bein’ jealous. I. . .I been in love with you for so long, I can’t remember when I wasn’t, anymore.” Inara almost gasped at that. Mal had never come even close to admitting that he loved her before. “Thing is, when you was talkin’ earlier,” Mal went on, oblivious, “I realized I’d wronged more than just Jayne. I had you, too. You did all that, workin’ to get the ship straightened out, and overseein’ the repairs and what not. I never thanked you for that, and I should have.” “Truth is, I don’t know what I’d do if you wasn’t here.” “Mal, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Inara told him gently. “Aside from admitting you love me.” “I do, you know,” Mal told her, looking at her. “I know I ain’t said it, before. But it wasn’t cause I didn’t. I just. . .I ain’t even gonna make an excuse. So much has happened. I just been kinda lost, I guess.” “We all have, one way or another,” Inara sat down beside him, taking his hand. “We’ve all suffered a great deal, Mal. Some worse than others, but each in our own way. For me,” she raised a hand to touch his face, “the worst part was watching you fall to the floor, after the stand down order. Thinking that you were. . .that you might. . .” Her voice trailed away as she fought back tears. “I’m sorry for that,” Mal hugged her close, and she fell into his arms. “I was so afraid that I had lost you,” she whispered. “That you were gone.” “I reckon I near was,” he joked, and she smiled in spite of herself. “Purple bellies hadn’t had a decent doc, I might well o’ been.” “And Simon and Kaylee as well,” Inara nodded. “For all his evil deeds, the Operative, once he saw the wrongness of Miranda, did all he could to atone.” “He can’t never atone for what all he did,” Mal almost growled. “He knows that, Mal,” Inara assured him. “I don’t know what to do about all this, ‘Nara,” Mal said suddenly. “‘Bout Jayne, I mean.” “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Mal,” Inara told him sadly. “I think he means to go, and I don’t think even Kaylee can convince him to stay.” “Kaylee?” Mal frowned, looking down at her. “What’s she got to do with this?” Inara rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. “Mal, it’s rather obvious, at least to those of us who can see, that Kaylee is. . .well, she loves him, I think. She’s certainly infatuated by him. ‘Taken’ with him, as you would say it,” she grinned, teasingly. “I don’t even wanna think about Jayne Cobb’s hands on my little mechanic,” Mal almost growled, and Inara sighed again. “They haven’t been,” she assured him. “Though I am certain that Jayne loves Kaylee with every fiber of his being. Has since he first came on board, in fact. If you’ll recall his behavior toward the doctor, you’ll remember that it started going badly when Kaylee began mooning over him.” “That’s right,” Mal nodded, brain finally catching up. “Huh. I never would have guessed.” “I know,” Inara sighed, patting his cheek. “You really are slow to catch on, sometimes.” He gave her a mock scowl. “I still don’t know what to do about all this,” he reminded her. “There’s nothing you can do, Mal,” Inara told him. “Why do anything, anyway? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve certainly said it often enough, over the years.” “I don’t really want it,” Mal admitted. “Even before I knew what all he’d done after Miranda, Jayne’s been a comfort on many an occasion. Been times when, had he not been there, things mighta gone south on us, and no tellin’ where they mighta stopped.” “How often have you told him that, Mal?” Inara asked softly. “I pay him, don’t I?” Mal replied, not quite indignant. “You pay everyone else, too, Mal. But there’s always kind words for a job well done. And how much did you pay him for Miranda?” she asked pointedly. “And do you think there’s enough money in the ‘verse to convince him to face reavers? When there was an alternative available?” Mal’s look softened at that. “No,” Mal answered. “Not reavers. Only thing I know of he’s afraid of. Mind you,” he chuckled, “I don’t know any sane people that aren’t.” “True,” Inara had to grin at that. “You can try to talk to him,” she offered. “I don’t know that it will help, so far as him staying. But it’s worth a try. And it will let your conscience rest a bit easier, knowing that you tried to fix things.” “You’re a right blessin’ to me, Inara Serra. You know that?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Well, I do try,” she grinned, offering him a more substantial kiss. “As River would say, you take a great deal of looking after.” “But you do a great job.” ---------------------------- Jayne walked into the galley, intending on finding himself a snack. He was surprised to find Mal sitting at the table. At this hour he was normally in bed. “Jayne,” Mal nodded. “Cap’n,” Jayne replied, his voice calm. “Up late, ain’tcha?” Mal asked, his voice friendly. “Hungry,” Jayne explained. “Thought I’d get a few crackers, keep the munchies at bay.” Mal nodded. Jayne opened his locker, finding a small bowl of leftover stew. He shrugged, taking it and the crackers. He fixed himself a glass of water and sat down at the table. “Jayne,” Mal said after a moment. “I been thinkin’ on what you said, the other day. When I came to see you in your bunk.” Jayne looked up at him, face expressionless. “I also had a talk with Inara,” Mal continued, looking carefully at the cup in his hands. “She filled me in on some things I weren’t ‘ware of.” He took a drink from the cup, and set if back on the table. “Things like how much help you was to her, after the mess on Miranda, and at Mister Universe’s. Like how you dragged Zoe away from them reavers. And how much you been doin’ of late to take off me. And Zoe.” He finally looked up, and Jayne was surprised to see a haunted look in Mal’s eye. “I did you wrong, Jayne,” Mal admitted. “More wrong than what I even realized. And I’m right sorry ‘bout that. You said some things made me think a bit,” he added. “‘Bout the Doc, especially. You’re right. I did keep him on, even after what happened to Kaylee. I ain’t gonna say it was wrong, cause I don’t think it was. But I can see how you’d think it.” “But it didn’t have nothin’ to do with him bein’ a doc,” Mal stressed. “And I didn’t know ‘bout the girl bein’ a reader till some later, you know.” Jayne nodded. “But you was right about her stabbin’ ya,” Mal nodded. “She’d a done it ta anyone else, I’da been like to spaced both of’em. That wasn’t treatin’ you right. I ain’t never treated you like crew, I know,” he said honestly. “Didn’t really think you cared one way or ‘nother, to be honest. And figured it wouldn’t matter none, you decided to sell us out.” “But then, you went and helped us with Miranda. And fought the reavers. And then helped patch up the ship, and tend to everyone’s needin’s. And them ain’t the actions o’ someone ain’t crew.” “And I still didn’t treat you like crew. And no, I didn’t give you no credit for how much changin’ you did afterward. Can’t say I even noticed it. But I ain’t noticed much else, either, since then. Least I didn’t for a while, so maybe you can understand that, if not overlook it.” “I can,” Jayne spoke for the first time. “I don’t want you off the ship, Jayne,” Mal told him flatly. “And I do think on you as crew, even if I don’t act like it. A man that’d fight reavers, and risk life and limb to pull a crewmate from outta their paws, that ain’t a man that’s a mercenary. Not in my book, anyways. That’s a man who’s part of a crew.” “If’n you’re of a mind to stay, I’d like you to. Ain’t no secret you’re a big help around here. And I promise, I won’t make the same mistakes again, that I been makin’.” Jayne looked at him for a long time. Mal seemed sincere enough, but Jayne couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was simply because Mal didn’t want to have to find a new gunhand. One he didn’t know. And, if he was honest, he wondered how much was just plain guilt. Mal had a conscience, especially about what was ‘right’. If he felt he’d violated that, he’d feel like amends had to be made. But Jayne couldn’t bring himself to believe that things would change. If they were going to, he reasoned, they would have by now. If he had to point out how much he’d changed for them, then it was wasted effort. If they couldn’t see it, without him bringing notice to it himself, then it wasn’t enough. And, if he was honest, it had hurt that after everything was finished, Mal hadn’t had a single kind word for him over what he’d done in the effort to make the Miranda Wave happen. Not one. Inara had, Jayne admitted, but that wasn’t the same. And in the end, it wasn’t enough. “I appreciate you sayin’ all that, Mal,” Jayne told him honestly. “Had you said it a mite earlier, it might’a made the difference. But now? It’s just words after the fact. Don’t mean so much, when you think on it like that.” He had finished his snack, and went to the sink with his bowl. He refilled his water glass, and drank it in one long draught, then placed it in the sink as well. “You want me to work the job with you, tomorrow?” he asked. “I will if’n you want.” “If you’re of a mind to come along, that’d be fine,” Mal nodded. He was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to convince Jayne to stay. But he wasn’t surprised. He’d never seen the man so set on anything. “I’ll be ready,” Jayne nodded. “Night, Mal.” “Night, Jayne.” Mal bit back a curse as he watched the gunman leave the galley, headed to his bunk. He couldn’t blame Jayne. Not for this. Jayne had done his part, and then some. Had done it, kept doing it, even when no one wanted to give him credit for it. When no one even took notice. Mal sighed, and tossed off the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing. Time for bed. Tomorrow would be a long day. ----------------------- In her bunk, River tossed and turned, unable to find comfort or sleep. The gnawing sensation that had plagued her for days was becoming worse. Yet, she was no closer to discovering it’s source than she had been when it started. With a growl of frustration, she sat up. Why was it so important that Jayne not leave? Certainly it was important for Kaylee’s sake. But there was more to it than a potential broken heart. There was blood, and death, and. . .something else. Something she just could not reach. What was the cause of the blood and death she saw over and over again? The reason that Jayne was so important? Usually she could fathom a problem like this, given time. But time was running out. Jayne was leaving, and once he was gone, it would be too late. The only thing she was sure of was that part of the crew would perish without him. Of that, she was certain. Rising from her bed, River threw on a robe and ascended the ladder out into the passageway. Sometimes it helped her to roam. To walk the quietness, the stillness of Serenity, when all the others were down for the night. Sometimes Serenity would speak to her. Not in words, and not as she did to Kaylee, but in visions. Feelings. Perhaps it wasn’t the ship, she mused, flowing along gracefully, hand along the bulkhead. Perhaps it was the stillness, allowing her mind to be free. She flitted across the others, sensing their presence. Mal sleeping fitfully. Zoe tossing and turning, alone in a bed made for two. Inara, resting, her mind more at ease than she’d ever felt it. Simon, dreaming of a cotillion in the Core. She smiled at that. Simon would leave, soon, she decided. All that remained was for him to admit that his sister was grown, and able to care for herself. Kaylee, strangely at peace with herself, sleeping deep. And Jayne. She gasped suddenly as her mind touched his, and images of death and blood and violence surrounded her. She felt hot, suddenly, despite the cold of the night cycle. Jayne was dreaming. But more than that, rage was bubbling inside him, festering like a wound gone bad. Coursing through him. Fury. Once again he was burning up from the inside. Almost consumed by the absolute, terrifying rage that ran so deep it seemed to be in his bones. His very soul. She was startled by the images that flashed before her. Of a young Jayne Cobb, sword in hand. . .sword? Her mind whirled at the image. Tall, already large, strong, holding a blade in each hand. Facing an even larger man. A teacher, she realized. Where in the ‘verse had Jayne learned to use. . . Another vision before her. Reavers, she realized with dread. An even younger Jayne, running from reavers, trying to escape. A ship, he was aboard a ship, over run by reavers. Hiding, fear coursing through him. The images shifted again as she watched in horrified fascination. Again, a younger version of Jayne Cobb, pummeling a much larger boy, again consumed by an indefinable aura of pure, unadulterated fury. Out of control, burning him up. The images were so strong that she realized Jayne wasn’t dreaming, so much as remembering. Jayne has suffered a great deal, she realized suddenly, things falling into place. Lost his family, his memory, his. . .name. Jayne wasn’t Jayne at all! Everything before the ship filled with reavers was missing. Gone. River felt a tear slip from her eye at the pain. She had never tried to see what Jayne was hiding. It was too invasive. Too intrusive. But now, without even trying, she could see at least part of his secret. Some of his pain. And she began to understand how a man who loved someone so fiercely could leave that person, rather than burden her with his own pain. She smiled, thinking of how the others would react if they knew that Jayne was being self-sacrificing. How he was thinking not just of Kaylee, but all of them, as he packed his belongings, and prepared to leave the first home he had known in so long. No closer to realizing why they needed him, she glided back to her bunk, suddenly exhausted. She felt as if she had betrayed him, somehow, by seeing. She hadn’t meant to. She used that excuse as a balm to ease her conscience. The intrusion had been unintentional. She returned to her bed, head swirling with emotions, thoughts, and haunted by the images from Jayne’s mind. Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, one last image came to her. Kaylee standing in his doorway, talking. River couldn’t hear the words. But she could feel Jayne’s anger drain away in an instant, when Kaylee appeared in his door. She sat bolt upright at that. Did Jayne realize that Kaylee’s presence had squelched the rage he fought so hard? Was he aware that she might hold the key to his happiness in more ways than one? She smiled suddenly, her head returning to her pillow. She knew how to help Jayne. She knew how to fix him. With that happy thought fixed firmly in her mind, she drifted off to sleep. And dreamed of blood, and death, and a giant warrior who was somehow familiar, and yet a stranger. The image troubled her. The warrior didn’t fly, but wore wings. A warrior with wings. An apparition of iron, impervious to the suffering around him, with wings that slowly fluttered, but could not lift him from the ground. Angel’s wings.