Despite the pillows, Jayne’s back ached from the hours of sitting leaned up against the head-board that cut off just below his shoulder blades. The soft pulse of Serenity’s engine throbbed through his veins like an external head-ache, but he didn’t want to move. Sky nestled against his thigh, one trembling arm thrown across his lap, eyes pressed shut, trapped in that place between numbness and sleep that came with her meds. The jokingly dubbed ‘Maternity Suite’ had long since lost its novelty, and was becoming more of a prison to them. River walked slow circles around the perimeter, talking to baby Emily as she nursed a bottle. Had River not proven herself trustworthy with Serenity’s other children, Jayne wouldn’t have let her close. As it stood, the baby was healthy and he had the rest of his life to hold her. He handed the baby off whenever possible, and held on to Sky, because it was her he was afraid of losing.

The prenatal surgery that had saved both Sky and Emily had resulted in post-birth complications. Sky couldn’t sit up to breast feed; she couldn’t sit up at all without serious meds. It irritated Jayne the way Simon kept kicking himself like it was his fault. Little Zoë took it hardest of all of them, because it was in rescuing her that Sky got injured. Jayne had teased her about it once – only once. It was the wrong thing to do.

Jayne’s fingers danced lazily through Sky’s blonde hair. Her fist clenched and she groaned softly, her toes pointing as she stretched. It was as peaceful as he’d seen her wake in forever. Sky smiled lightly as her blue eyes opened and she purred against Jayne’s thigh, sending shivers through his skin and making him squirm.

“What time is it?” Sky asked, clearing her throat, and not lifting her head. She was always cautious about moving. “Is she sleeping?”

“River’s got her,” Jayne said, stroking Sky’s face, but keeping his eye on River and the baby. “You wanna hold her?”

Sky turned her head just enough to see River and the baby, then drooped despondently onto Jayne’s lap again. “No.”

The frustration and depression scared Jayne and he quickly motioned River over.

“I’ll have none of that,” Jayne told her, adjusting their relative positions to make room for the baby. Settling Sky’s head on one leg, he took Emily and laid her on the other, facing her mother. Sky broke into a wide smile and she tickled her baby’s nose.

“Hey, baby,” she said sweetly.

River smiled, kneeling by the bed to watch. “She likes your voice.”

Sky didn’t need the encouragement. She shifted again, trying to get more comfortable as she cooed and fussed over her baby. Lying face-to-face and touching her like this was as close as Sky could get to holding their daughter. When she started singing, Emily smiled and laughed.

“Did you see that?!” Jayne said excitedly, joy bubbling in his soul. “Do it again. Make her laugh.”

Sky looked up at him and smiled, then kept singing. Gathering enthusiasm, she pushed herself onto her elbows, but then her face contorted in pain. Heart stopping, Jayne quickly lifted the baby, leaving Sky space to fall. With a grimace, she managed to lower herself slowly.

Jayne held the baby out to River. “Take her, please. Get the Doc.”

As soon as River and Emily had left the room, Jayne placed a hand on the back of Sky’s head, pulling the hair away from her face so she could get some air.

“They’re gone?” Sky asked, her voice tight and pained.

“Yeah.”

Sky pressed her face against the nearest pillow and screamed. She wasn’t shy about the crew knowing she was in pain, but she played it off like she was irritated by the inconvenience. Only when they were alone did the real tears come, and they were agony.

Jayne hunched protectively around her, stroking her skin, whispering words of peace as she struggled for breath.

“I want to hold my baby, Jayne,” she cried wretchedly.

Jayne’s jaw tightened and he closed his eyes. “In time.”

Sky pounded her fist against the bed in frustration, and Jayne knew it wasn’t good enough.

“You’re the first person in the whole ‘verse to make her laugh,” Jayne offered, feeling helpless. “No one else can say that.”

Her breathing settled and the fire of frustration smoldered as they waited for Simon. They were both thinking and trying not to think of how much more she’d get to see of Emily’s life. There was only so long she could go on like this.

“Think you busted a stitch?” Jayne asked.

Sky writhed irritably. “No. This pain is different. This one is new.”

*~*

Jayne sat at the table in the galley, cradling Emily in two hands, making goofy faces, trying to inspire a second laugh. She smiled wanly at him and flapped her arms. It had been a long while since he’d spent more than ten minutes outside the Maternity Suite, but it was getting easier. He’d leave when Sky was sleeping. She actually could sleep now! The new pain Sky had felt when Emily first laughed had been just the clue the Doc needed to suss out the problem and get her on the road to recovery. Jayne hoped it wasn’t a lie for his benefit. He hoped they were on the road to somewhere.

For over half a year now, his wife had been on bed rest. He’d kept quiet throughout the pregnancy, anxiously awaiting the day when she’d be back on her feet, in the field, working by his side, going out on jobs. She made him feel alive – made him feel like a young man again. Without her, it was just work, and dangerous work at that. Part of him wanted to leave Serenity and take up safer trade so he wouldn’t leave his kid an orphan. The rest of him knew that of all the people in the ‘verse, these were the ones he wanted with him ‘til the end. The way they’d all come together and raised little Zoë – there was no second choice in Jayne’s mind.

Emily blinked sleepily, and Jayne cradled her in one arm, leaning back in the chair. This room hadn’t changed much in fifteen years. There were more chairs around the table, some with booster seats. Each kid had a space on the wall with a record of handprints over the years. They’d added Emily’s handprint the other day, and she’d wailed the entire time. His baby girl wouldn’t last long on the ship if she didn’t like getting her hands dirty, but he could forgive her that, just because she smiled at him every time she woke up in the morning.

Mal kept a tight ship and the common areas were always tidy. It was only the kids’ rooms in the passenger – children’s – quarters that got a mess, and they never knew who to tell to clean what, because Zoë was the only one among them who stayed in the room she was assigned. For the youngens, it was a miracle when one of them woke in the room they’d been set down in the night before.

Would Emily mix with those four, or was she too far behind them? Jayne didn’t want her being alone, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t ask Sky for another. Even if she wanted more, he’d tell her no. This time around was too scary, and one little one was all the worry Jayne could take.

Mal entered the galley, carrying three long guns and a tool kit, just as Emily dozed off.

“Job?” Jayne asked hopefully, sitting up straighter.

“I have an idea,” Mal allowed, sitting down at the table, setting up a space to clean the guns. His fingers twitched as he looked at the spread, then he looked over at Jayne.

“Wanna trade?” he asked. Mal’s hand hadn’t been the same since Sky broke it three years ago and he was starting to get arthritis in his fingers, but wouldn’t fess up to no one. He only took meds on jobs, because he said he didn’t want to build a tolerance, and it wasn’t his gun hand anyhow. He’d always been a glutton for punishment like that.

Jayne didn’t care one way or the other. Carefully, he handed the sleeping baby to Mal and slid the guns in front of him, sighing happily at the familiarity of the chore. Cleaning guns was something he could do blindfolded and in his sleep. It was comfortable, safe, and satisfying all at once.

“What’s the gig?” Jayne asked as his fingers moved deftly over the metal.

“I thought we might sit planet-side for a month,” Mal said. “Seems Sky could use the sunlight to recover and the kids are gettin’ a little rowdy for close quarters.”

“Don’t stop working for us.”

Mal gave him a look that said this was not open for debate. He probably figured he owed Jayne for all the years leading up to this one, but Jayne never did any of that for credit.

“Inara’s looking for a world with all we need,” Mal said simply.

Jayne forced his hands to keep moving, willing the mindless task to become mind-filling enough to crowd out his doubts.

“Mal…” Jayne choked on his own fears. He’d said it involuntarily, calling out to the friend who had never asked him to be more than a hired gun and never treated him as less than a brother. “What if she doesn’t come back from this? What if she’s never the same?”

Mal shifted Emily in his arms. “Look at your little one, Jayne. Did you ever expect things to be the same?”

It’s not what Jayne had meant and Mal knew it. With all Mal and Inara had been through … but Jayne didn’t want to bring up such things, so he kept silent.

“If you love her, you love her,” Mal continued simply, not making eye contact. “You stay by her side. You’ll catch glimpses of the old her, but you don’t point it out. Soon you won’t know the difference twixt things wrought by this hardship and changes that come naturally with time.”

Jayne nodded. He and Mal weren’t meant for heart-to-heart, and Jayne tried not to be embarrassed for breaking like that. Instead, he focused on his task, waiting for the reason the guns had come out of the closet.

“Michael wants to learn the long shot,” Mal said, quickly changing the subject once it became apparent he’d said enough.

Jayne harrumphed. “The backlash on one of these would break his arm off.”

Mal nodded.

“He’s the one that’s gonna stay, you know,” Jayne said. “He’s the one that’s gonna take over the ship and support you when you’re old and gray. The other kids don’t want it like he does.”

Mal kept quiet, but his face twitched lightly.

“Two jobs,” Mal said finally. “We need cash and meds.”

“Don’t we always,” Jayne smiled, finishing the first gun and moving on to the second. “You have a target?”

“Choice of two,” Mal said, pulling a handheld out of his pocket and sliding it across the table. It was nothing challenging or new, working over a hospital. But it would’ve been more fun with Sky.

*~*

Jayne had always been back to the Maternity Suite by the time Sky awoke, but talking through a job with Mal was insanely distracting. An hour later, Jayne was still arguing vehemently in favor of the second hospital for exit reasons and Mal kept pointing to the first as having more experimental meds.

“You can’t peddle experimental meds,” Jayne protested, gesturing with both guns. “No one knows how to use ‘em!”

“That’s why they fetch such a high price,” Mal countered, keeping his voice soft and still so as not to disrupt Emily sleeping in his arms. “People think they’re all special and powerful.”

Jayne used the barrel of the gun to point to the schematic of the first. “There’s only two exits in this one. We can’t even fly out from the roof top.”

“River had this idea –”

Mal stopped talking suddenly and stared at the door behind them. Jayne turned swiftly and nearly jumped in surprise to see Sky there. She looked haggard, but determined, using the door frame to support herself as she caught her breath. She shouldn’t have been out of bed, but Jayne wasn’t gonna tell her. He’d rather see her live defiant than die safe in bed.

“Did you come for Emily?” Jayne asked her.

“French toast,” she said purposefully and Jayne laughed. She’d talked of nothing else for the last three days, and insisted that no one else could make her signature delicacy properly. Taking a deep breath, Sky pushed off the door frame and made her way to the cooking island in the galley, keeping one hand on the wall for support. When she reached the stove, she leaned her fists on the countertop and rested again.

With a delighted leer, Jayne rose from his chair, came behind Sky, snaked his arms around her waist, and growled against the back of her neck. Then, just like he did every time she cooked, he gathered the elements and set them in place for her to use. She didn’t start moving right away and Jayne wondered just how difficult it was for her to be standing after so long of not.

He waited, wrapping his arms around her again and hooking his chin over her shoulder, nibbling lightly on her ear until she squirmed and smiled. Instead of leaving both arms around her waist, he wrapped one across her torso, waist to shoulder, and she leaned on him heavily. Using the extra support from him freed her hands to move, and set to work. There were only three pieces of bread left and one of them was a little moldy on the edges.

Mal held Emily out towards them, but Jayne shook his head. Sky shouldn’t be sitting, let alone standing, and Jayne wanted both hands free in case she collapsed. The Doc always criticized the pair of them for being the worst patients ever, but Jayne figured as bad as he was, Sky was worse. If she thought he needed it, she could order him to the Infirmary and he’d go. The reverse was not true.

A few minutes later, the room filled with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla and three little heads peeked in from aft.

“I told you I smelled the special bread!” Cole whispered to his friends.

“Auntie Sky!” Genny squealed, pushing past the boys. “You’re better!”

“Auntie Sky!”

They charged forward, but weren’t more than half way across the room when Jayne hollered “Freeze.”

The kids froze and Jayne’s breath caught in surprise. He’d seen Mal do that trick a hundred times, but never tried it himself. The three kids froze in mid stride, like it was a game, and giggled as they fell off balance.

“Auntie Sky’s still tender,” Jayne explained. Sky was gritting her teeth with tension. “If you’re going to hug her, you have to be gentle.”

“Is the special bread for sharing?” Jamie asked as Genny stepped carefully forward and hugged both Sky and Jayne.

Sky didn’t answer and Jayne wasn’t about to speak for her on this matter. Letting actions speak, she pulled the first two pieces from the griddle, making space for the third. She twisted a little in Jayne’s arms, motioning for a knife, and he reached back to the silverware drawer. If they didn’t look like this every time they cooked together, perhaps the kids would’ve been more suspicious. As it stood, the only perceptible difference was that their Auntie Sky wasn’t smiling so much.

Sky set one piece of French toast on a plate and used the knife to cut it into eight finger slices, then she handed the plate to Genny.

“Take this to the table, girl,” Sky said softly, her voice creaking a little at the strength she forced.

With a broad smile, Genny took the plate and led the other kids back to the table. Sky tore the second piece of toast into two, ate one half shakily, and fed the other half to Jayne, whose head still rested on her shoulder. He swayed lightly to the rhythm of contented memory, treasuring the moment in his heart without speaking, just like Mal had told him to.

“Cole, where’s your brother?” Mal asked, as each kid took one piece of French toast from the plate on the table. They knew they weren’t permitted a second until everyone else in the ship had a chance at the shared plate.

Cole shrugged. “With jie jie.”

As if by answer, little Zoë wrestled Michael through the door, half dragging, half carrying him.

“See, no one’s screamin’ in here,” she said, then paused when she noticed the crowd. Michael pounded his head against Zoë’s chest, and Jayne winced, knowing the boy must be catching some of Sky’s pain. Reaching up two fingers, Jayne caressed Sky’s face and kissed her softly.

Mal held out a hand, motioning Zoë and Michael toward him, then traded Zoë Michael for Emily. Mal pressed Michael’s ear over his heart and whispered soothes in his ear until the boy stopped struggling.

“Do you want Auntie Sky’s special bread, Michael?” Cole offered, pushing the plate across the table.

Zoë fussed over Emily, rocking gently as the baby girl roused.

“Did you want to feed her?” Jayne asked Sky, keeping his voice low and the conversation private.

Sky watched forlornly and shook her head. “I barely have a hold on this spatula.”

“But you have a hold,” Jayne pointed out.

“What if I drop her?”

Jayne squeezed Sky gently and turned off the stove. No more excuses. His wife had climbed all the way up the stairs to make French toast. Today, she would hold her baby, no matter what.

“We’re goin’ to the couch,” he said and she knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Gingerly using Jayne as a crutch, the two crossed the room and sat down on the couch.

“Bring her here, Zo,” Jayne summoned, as soon as they were settled.

It was a combination of pillows and wrapped arms, but baby Emily was finally in her mother’s arms, drinking hungrily from a bottle her mother held. Jayne had one arm around his wife’s shoulder, and one hand over hers, keeping her from shaking. Sky was breathless with delight.

The other children gathered around, watching in awe, and Jayne had to wonder what it was about their little family that had the kids so enraptured. Even Michael slid off his father’s lap to come closer.

“Auntie Sky, sing us a song like you used to,” Genny requested, sitting on the floor by their feet.

Jayne and Sky exchanged a surprised look. For years now, he and Sky had come to the lounge, him playing the guitar, her singing along. She’d never sang for the kids; they’d never even seen the kids in the room when she was singing.

“Maybe you could start us singing something,” Sky suggested. Sitting had helped her find more strength to speak.

Genny shook her head innocently. “I don’t know the songs you sing yet.”

Sky smiled, leaning her head bashfully against Jayne’s shoulder. It was true, the kids weren’t exposed to more than the nursery rhymes their parents sang. Jayne had never thought about it before.

“Want me to get the guitar?” he asked and Sky gripped his wrist.

“Don’t you dare let go of me.”

Gathering her strength and her wits, Sky offered to teach the kids a chorus, singing them a line and having them repeat. Then she sang a verse and they joined in on the chorus she’d taught. Jayne tipped his head back, thanking God as his wife’s sweet voice filled the room. He nearly missed it when baby Emily, wrapped in her mother’s arms, laughed for the second time in her life.

*~*