A series of five 100 word drabbles. Each had to be exactly 100 words.
Disclaimer: Not my property, not for profit. No disrespect intended to anybody real (actors/creators).
At the end of the series (and the movie), I feel there are still a lot of unanswered questions about who Jayne Cobb really is, and what made him tick (other than money XD). I really, really would have loved to see where they would have taken his character had the series not been cancelled. Why was is cancelled? *sobs*
One last note for Jayne's age. We couldn't find anything official for Jayne Cobb's acutal age. And we really don't believe that Mal is supposed to be 49. We've decided to go with Mal as 31 and Jayne as 35 when the TV series picks up. If you have any information about their official ages please leave it in a review!
Age 13
Head snapping back painfully, he saw nothing but bright blue-sky and white stars as he tumbled backwards crumpling into a heap of gangly limbs, choking on the dust swirling up from the dry rocky surface at his fall. His lip and eye throbbed painfully, he could feel exactly were each fist had connected. But, thirteen year old Jayne was not to be messed with and he came up swinging. One day he would be the one pushing people around, the one betraying. Trust no one but yourself, your gun and your two fists. They'd taught him that; he'd learned well.
Age 17
A thin pair of arms had encircled his thigh, tiny fists clutching to the flimsy material of his cargo pants. He'd looked down to a mop of brown curls, small ruddy face turned upwards, stained with tears and streaks of dirt. She had begged her big brother not to leave them behind; he'd had little choice in the matter. Damplung medicine was scarce in these parts, going about getting it in a creditable way even harder. Turning, he left with little more than a quick kiss to top of chestnut curls and a promise to send whatever money he could.
Age 25
In the privacy of his own bunk he sat, cross legged, one large black boot in his lap. Peeling back a well-worn inside sole he reached in a hand, digging underneath, smiling as fingers came into contact with a familiar shape. Retracting his hand, he stared down at his prize; a photograph, with dog-eared edges made yellow by time gone past. The photograph's sole occupant was a large masculine woman with a likeness of his own. Long ago words his mother had spoken to him came floating back, "Jayne-boy, you got something a value, you keep her in your shoe."
Age 35
Something unknown was gnawing at his insides, some heavy weight settling there like a poorly digested protein bar. Across the cargo bay, where he was dutifully helping Mal stow their latest contraband, his eyes kept flitting back to the Med-center. Inside one pompous doctor was tending his equally pretentious crazy sister after she'd stupidly nicked her finger touching something she ought not to have meddled with. As the doc finished bandaging the superficial cut, bestowing a kiss to the top of the injured digit, Jayne had to look away, refusing to acknowledge that weighted feeling for what it was, jealously.
Age 35
"Family, do you even know the word?"
Simon's callously thrown out barb had cut him deeper then the doctor would probably ever realized. Granted, he'd been an ass to the doc's sister, but the girl and her dual personalities left him feeling, at times exposed, at others, frightened for his life. Leaving behind a sibling who'd worshipped him, a mother he adored hadn't been easy, it'd been necessary to survive. He wasn't optimistic enough to believe he would ever see either of them again, most likely safer if he didn't. Family just got in the way, made things all complex-like.