Word Count: 2,800

           In the months that followed, both Serenity and her Captain became mere shells of their former glory.  River was despondent over how the ship now cried and no longer sang; she cried, mourning the happiness that had graced her for such a short time.  The crew itself was fractured; Mal and Zoe were essentially ostracized from the personal goings on of River, Simon, and Kaylee.  They all came together for the sake of the ship, but the feelings of betrayal by the senior members of the crew were just too much to forgive yet.

            For his part, Mal lived day to day finding jobs and pushing through, only to fall apart in his bunk.  He spent hours of each day staring at the ring on his finger; played over and over the capture Kaylee had taken of him and Jayne less than two weeks before it had all fallen apart.  He hadn’t realized how much he loved Jayne until he’d woken up the next morning to find his lover gone.  He closed his eyes in pain as he remembered that day:

            After he’d come to his senses a long while after Jayne had stormed out and Simon led Kaylee away, he’d rushed out into the busy market place, trying frantically to find Jayne, only to return empty handed two hours later.  River had met him at the ramp and proceeded to follow him around the ship with accusing eyes, causing him to retreat to the safety of his and Jayne’s bunk.  He knew Jayne would have to come down here sometime, so he settled in to wait.

            As the hours dragged on, Mal’s mind ran over the course of their relationship, beginning to end.  He remembered the first time he’d approached Jayne; taking him to the bar and pretending to get drunk while he got Jayne nine sheets to the wind before they staggered back and they’d fumbled in the dark, barely making it down to Jayne’s bunk.  Even then, as drunk as he was, Jayne had been a considerate lover, making sure to properly prepare Mal before taking him with a heat, Mal hadn’t felt in years. 

That night had made it so much easier to stick with his plan and go back for more.  Through it all, Jayne had made it so easy; each step in the game had been eased by Jayne’s thoughtfulness, surprising gentleness, and trust, believing his lover felt the same as they awkwardly felt their way along the relationship.  Mal still couldn’t believe how easy it had been for him to fall in love; despite the nature of how it had all begun, that too, had been so easy that he still couldn’t figure out where the plan had stopped and the real love began.

Suddenly the reality of what he had done hit him, guilt and sorrow overwhelming him and making it hard to breathe.  “Oh, God, Baobei, I’m so sorry,” he’d sobbed into Jayne’s pillow, pausing when his fingers nudged something under it.  Sitting up, he moved the pillow to find a small square box, wrapped in a fancy deep blue paper held in place by an expensive looking silver bow. 

As he gingerly picked up the box, he noticed a small piece of paper under it, folded several times.  Curious, he unfolded the worn paper; clearly it had been folded and refolded many times, the writing inside written, crossed off, and rewritten just as many times as well, the author obviously trying to get the wording just right.

It took him two lines to figure out that it was a proposal.

Reflexively, Mal’s hand had clenched around the box, clutching it to his chest as he cried out his pain into the back of his hand as the true magnitude of his betrayal truly sank in.  He’d wronged Jayne ten fold more than Jayne, on his worst day, could have wronged the entire crew and Mal’s heart broke at the monster he’d become.

Mal’s hand shook as he opened the box, surprised to find two beautiful rings, until he finished reading the letter and saw that one was for Jayne, should Mal have done him the ‘greatest honor of his life’ and said yes.  With a trembling hand, Mal took the smaller ring out of the cushion and placed it on his finger, tears streaming down his face unchecked.

Unless there was a God and He granted Mal a miracle, Jayne was going to walk out of his life, but Mal’s heart would always regard Jayne Cobb as his husband.

For hours, he’d stayed like that; sitting on the bed reading and rereading Jayne’s letter, only putting it all away when he noticed his tears soaking the bottom edges.  Deciding he might as well get ready for bed, he’d only just changed when he heard the hatch open and Jayne’s footsteps descending.

In a rush of desperation to try and save what they had, Mal sprang up; pleading with Jayne before it all suddenly went black.  When he woke the next morning, he’d felt as though half of him—the good half—had died; Jayne was gone.

Gasping as he relived the worst moment of his life for the thousandth time, Mal once again hit the ON button of the capture, needing to see Jayne’s smiling face staring back at him, letting him believe—if only for a moment—he’d been worthy of something so good.  It was like a drug; and he already knew that without his fix, sleep would not be coming.

The screen stayed black. 

He tried again.  Nothing. 

In desperation, Mal shook the capture; hoping against hope that it would somehow make the damned thing work.  When it didn’t, he dug out a screwdriver and undid the back; there was a black spot on the memory card.  His thousand views were up.

It was three sleepless days before Simon pulled him aside one afternoon.  “Captain, I am worried about you; it is plain to see that you aren’t sleeping.  You’ve lost a fair amount of weight, too, these last four months; quite frankly, you look as though you are on the verge of a breakdown.”  Reaching to take Mal’s arm so he could lead him to the infirmary, he continued, “Please, let me take you to the infirmary to run some tests—,”

Pulling his arm away, Mal stood defensively, his tone aggressive, “I don’t need any tests run, Doc; I got my reasons for not sleepin’.  An’ long as I ain’t dead or unconscious, you try an’ poke me with any a’ them needles a’ yours, you’ll already be awake an’ you’ll already be facing me, so I’m telling you now: I’ll just go ahead and consider you armed.  You get me?”

Nodding as starting a confrontation with the stubborn Captain would help no one, Simon backed down, “At least let me give you a vitamin supplement.  We barely get the necessary nutrition with protein as is, but you aren’t eating half of what you need.”

Walking away, Mal called back over his shoulder, “No thanks, Doc!”

Four days later, he collapsed.  In the middle of a job.

---

It was a pleasant day on Calderon as Sheriff Fred Bowman rode out to the ranch, musing on the recent turn of fortunate events that had come his way of late.  That eldest Cobb boy’s been right useful to have around since he came home, doin’ some of the heavy work for me an’ runnin’ some of the bad elements outta town, since the Barlow kid’s been laid up.  Sure does got some kinda rage, though; I don’t know what’s behind it, but I do know I don’t ever wanna be on the receivin’ end of it.

Entering the drive, he saw the tiny Vera Cobb walk out onto her porch, “Mornin’ Sheriff, what can we do for ya?  Ya lookin’ for Jayne again?”

Dismounting, he took off his hat and bowed slightly to the tiniest woman he’d ever met to survive birthing children the size of her three—huge boys, all of them, except for the sickly Mattie who was still built on a large frame, “Vera.”

A pointed clearing of the throat sounded behind him.  Turning, the Sheriff saw just the man he was looking for—though the boy did have the worst timing, he thought disappointed—looking back at him with a protectively feral glare that bore a specifically pointed message.  Clearing his own throat, Bowman started again laying it on sweetly to the older woman, “Mrs. Cobb, what a pleasure it is to see you again.  You are indeed correct; I was just looking for your son here.  If he is free, I thought I might see if he would be willing to help me out with a few things again today.”  His own charming smile resembling hers, their eye contact holding a few moments longer than necessary.

Jayne did not miss the exchange between the Sheriff and his mother; his eyes narrowed shrewdly as he saw the man hold his mother’s gaze longer than was strictly necessary.  Stepping around into Bowman’s line of sight, “He is right the gorram here.  Why don’t you ask him, an’ not his Mother.”

Again, the Sheriff cleared his throat, this time uncomfortably—though he was secretly very amused at the way Jayne cowed slightly and fidgeted under the weight of the glare sent forth by the diminutive matriarch.  “Ah, yes.  I received a Wave this morning from a vessel that has a crewmember who apparently tried to take some liberties with their pilot.  Was wondering if you wouldn’t mind popping over to the docks an’ takin’ the report and that hundan—pardon my language Mrs. Cobb—down to the jail.  The Captain said they’d be here around one O’clock when I have to be at the City Council meeting all afternoon.  I can pass up on the meeting, but you’ve been such a great help while Barlow’s out, so I thought I’d check.”

Visibly mulling it over, Jayne asked, “Their pilot a woman?”

The Sheriff nodded, “A right little thing too.  He roughed her up pretty good; crew’s gonna have to leave her here for a couple weeks so she can be tended to by the local Doc while they make their delivery.”

Vera stepped up, her heart immediately going out to the woman, “If she is in need of a place to stay and rest up until her ship returns, I would like to offer her a place in my home, Sheriff.”

“C’n I give him a rough time of it on the way to the jail,” Jayne asked hopefully.  He knew that the people of this planet would hang the guy without a second thought for trying to force a woman, but he wanted to put his two cents in so to speak.

Clapping the younger man on the shoulder, the Sheriff smiled, I knew I liked him, “Just don’t make it anything that we can’t blame on his crew an’ we’ll call it good.  How’s that?”

Jayne turned to go into the house, “Let me change my shirt an’ grab some a’ my girls an’ I’ll meet ya down there.”

---

            Jayne was waiting at the two port space dock just after one O’clock when he saw a vaguely familiar ship lower into view.  Looking at the clipboard, he double checked the name of the ship.  Sovereign, he thought; Monty’s boat. 

Pain flared up in his chest as his mind made the inevitable links to Mal; Monty was Mal and Zoe’s friend from the War and the last time he’d seen the wild haired Captain had been just before they’d pulled the Lassiter job with Red.  Determined to keep doing as he had the last three months, he shoved the thoughts aside and stubbornly poured all of his concentration into the moment; focus on the job at hand.

Within minutes, Monty’s ship landed and the still beardless Captain walked out, stopping in shock when he saw the man waiting for him, “Jayne?  You’re Jayne Cobb, right?  One a’ Mal’s boys?” 

Jayne gave Monty a curt nod, unable to speak quite yet at the mention of Mal’s name.  He filled time until his voice worked again by looking over the clipboard, before letting out a breath, “Yeah, well don’t work for him no more, but yeah; it’s been a while.  How you been Monty?”

The shorter man’s face clouded as he pondered over recent events, “We’ve certainly been better, that’s for sure.  Gorram new hundan of a gunhand I picked up on Bernadette last week just went an’ wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer with my niece, Marie, here.  You ain’t met her yet—she may not want to right at the moment either—my sister’s kid.  Just seventeen and got her pilot’s license three months ago; damn good, too.  Held her own outrunnin’ Reavers on just her second week!”  Jayne had to smile at Monty’s boasting; the man was just a smidgeon away from exploding with pride.

Turning serious, “I’m helpin’ out the Sheriff while his Deputy’s laid out with…somethin’, I don’t know,” Jayne said with a dismissive wave of the clipboard.  “’F she’s up to it, I gotta take the report.  When she gets ta the Doc, he’s gonna need ta take some captures of her injuries.  Just so ya know ahead a’ time.”

Visibly upset, Monty nodded and Jayne felt the need to comfort the distraught uncle.  Stepping forward, Jayne leaned in close, his look and tone dead serious, “Monty; they’re gonna hang ‘im here.  Folk here look on forcin’ worse ‘n murder.  He’s gonna get it.”  Leading Jayne inside, Monty gave him a grateful look, taking him at his word.

Jayne and Monty spent over an hour with Marie going over each incident—and there were many, most of which she’d never told Monty, thinking herself grown enough to handle them herself—with Burton Berry, the gun hand tied up in the storage closet.  After which, the two men escorted her on Monty’s mule to the Doctor’s office to get looked over; she was too beaten up to walk much, though Berry had been denied his prize, which everyone was thankful for.

As they waited for the Doc to do his thing, Jayne and Monty sat out in the waiting room talking, “Sheriff said y’all was gonna leave her here for a couple weeks while you make your delivery.  She got a place to stay?”

Monty nodded, still upset at the thought of leaving her, “Cargo we got’s perishable; we gotta get it delivered ‘fore it spoils.  Was gonna find her a room to stay in for the time being.  Ya know of a good, clean place?”

“Ma’s offered up a room at the ranch.  ‘S just her, me, an’ Mattie, but Ma’ll take care of her good an’ give her someone ta talk to if she needs it.  Ma won’t tell you nothin’ of it though, so don’t never bother askin’.”

Looking up in surprise, Monty was touched, “I’d be right appreciative of that Jayne.  Thank you.”  He paused a moment, a question had been rattling in his brain off and on since he’d seen the mercenary on the dock, “So how come you left Serenity?  Mal finally piss ya off one too many times?  I remember how you two used to butt heads right an’ left.”  His voice trailed off as he saw the naked pain flash across Jayne’s face, only to be hid behind a calm mask.  The heavy swallow was especially telling as well; there’s definitely a story there.

After a moment, Jayne answered, his voice still a bit hoarse, “Just couldn’t stand bein’ there no more, ‘s all.  Too much gou pi goin’ on.  Weren’t never like I was really part a’ that crew anyway.”  Oh, yeah, there’s a story; and it looks like Mal shafted him with the short stick somethin’ fierce.

“You lookin’ ta go back out at all?  I’m good for makin’ this delivery—it’s all above board with a guy we’ve dealt with before—but I’m gonna need to find me another gun hand soon.  One that I can trust, anyway.  I’d love ta have ya, if you’re willin’.”  Jayne paused, mouth open as if to out rightly refuse, but Monty held up a hand, “Just think on it Jayne.  I’ll be back in ten, twelve days.  Think on it an’ give me an answer then.”

Two weeks later, Jayne Cobb was on his way back into the black.

 



AN: Okay so this didn't turn out QUITE as sad as I thought it would, having only got to one side of the fall out, but this story is also becoming longer the more I think about it.  Originally I had planned three parts, max.  Looks like that ain't happening though!  :)