Lying there, in the dirt, the blood on his gut warm and sticky on his hands, Sheppard Book almost felt like laughing, if it wouldn’t hurt so damn much. The irony of it all, to live the life he had led only to die like this… A cough wracked his body, pulling at the dried viscera in the wound. His only regret was that when his past finally came hurtling to claim him, it had taken the good people around him with him.

When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrows of stone

He had been a true believer, raised deep in the Core, the son of a colonel in the Alliance Army. His aptitude for…death had been noted early, when he had achieved black-belt status in three martial arts by the age of nine. His father had been honored when the government came to him and asked for his son in service to a higher good, a better world. And through all his training, he had never questioned that, never doubted that his sacrifice, his willingness to be darkness was in the making of a better world. Never until the early years of the war.

I did not believe because I could not see Though you came to me in the night When the dawn seemed forever lost You showed me your love in the light of the stars

He lost his faith on Shadow. The intelligence the Alliance had gathered was that this was one of the hotbeds of rebellion, the yeast leavening the bread of resistance. And so their orders were to wipe it out. He had done worse things, really, in the name of a better world. But this time…the people left on the planet weren’t running the Independent army. They were the old, the women, the children. Their deaths weren’t going to make things better, safer…if anything, he knew it would only make things worse. And so in the eleventh hour, he balked.

Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me

He should have been killed instantly. It was what protocol demanded. But the man overseeing this mission had known his father, and so instead put it out that he had become ill, and unable to do the work. He had been given no choice in what he was to do, however. Within three days he had been inside a solitary cell at the Abbey, sitting alone in a corner. The brothers brought him his meals and otherwise left him to himself. Other than giving him the Book. And in the silence of that small cool room, Derrial found something else to believe in.

Then the mountain rose before me By the deep well of desire From the fountain of forgiveness Beyond the ice and fire

He had been there almost ten years, among the flowers and vegetables and herbs of the Abbey’s garden, when Abbott Tien came to him. He didn’t understand at first, when the Abbott told him it was time to go back into the world. He begged him to let him stay, that he wasn’t ready, that it wasn’t safe. Instead, the Abbott had led him into the transept of the Abbey church and together they prayed for guidance, for courage, for peace. And Book knew he was right. He knew that to truly appreciate withdrawal from the world, he had to be in the world as the person he was now. So he took the Abbott’s gifts from the garden, his few other possessions and he wandered outside for the first time in many, many years, into a space port. And into a girl with a bright umbrella and a brighter smile.

Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me

He thought Mal was his calling, when he met him. Thought that God had put him on this ship to Sheppard this young man back to him, to share his own dear-priced understanding of the Lord. And then Lawrence Dobson had shot Kaylee. And then Lawrence Dobson attacked him, when all he was trying to do was prevent someone from making a mortal sin. And then Malcolm Reynolds had shot Lawrence Dobson down like a mad dog. No hesitation, no regret. Just shot him where he stood. And all he had been able to do was watch it happen. He thought in that moment that this was all some cruel joke, that he had been led from the path. In the fast confusion of helping escape from the reavers, he had been able to block out the constant mantra of no in the back of his brain. He had only really begun to lose it when they were safe and clear. And then a young woman he had initially disapproved up led him away, dressed his wounds, and gave him solace, and perhaps direction. And he remembered that the Lord rarely asks a man to walk a straight path.

Though we share this humble path, alone How fragile is the heart Oh give these clay feet wings to fly To touch the face of the stars

In the months he stayed with the crew, his sense of right and wrong had been tested. He had done his best to help save Mal, even knowing he might have to kill a man. He had tried to find a way to help River, knowing his former life is probably what made her this way in the first place. He became surprisingly close to the mercenary, and he suspected he was the only one who knew how much Jayne loved his family, how much his money-grubbing ways were about helping them make it on their dirt-poor home world. And then the Captain had brought them to Haven. And something in him told him it was time to stop roaming and stay a while. It was hard, leaving the relative comfort of Serenity for this hardscrabble little world, but the people needed a Sheppard and he felt that he had done what he could for his current flock. And so he once again packed his meager possession and moved on.

Breathe life into this feeble heart Lift this mortal veil of fear Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears We'll rise above these earthly cares

The coughing again wracked him as he heard the sound of engines landing. It had been almost a day since the attack, and he was tired. And cold. He never thought he’d be cold on this hot little world, but he was. At first, he thought another skiff was coming back, to make sure the job was done. Then he heard Jayne’s voice, hollering for him. He tried to answer, but little sound came out. He had been thirsty, but he wasn’t now. His hand scrabbled in the dirt, trying to find something to throw, to get their attention when the Captain found him.

He could see the pain in Mal’s eyes, the guilt. He knew that boy genius was there somewhere with his fancy medi-kit, but he also knew it was too late. Knew it from the first minute that skiff had broke atmo. Now, he held Mal’s hand in his own, in his death grip…again, he almost laughed. The man was trying to convince him he would live, practically ordering him not to die. And in that moment, Derrial Book realized his mission had come full circle. He realized that maybe he really was meant to save this man. With the last breath left to him, he looked up into that obstinate face. “I don’t care what you believe in. Just believe in it.” Then, his eyes closed, and a calm washed over him, ebbing him away on its tide.

Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me Please remember me