Don't Make No Sense
Takes up with the end of Jaynestown, where we left our big damn heroes on the catwalk over the cargo bay. I intended it to be a short one-shot insight into Jayne and Mal in that scene, but I have some possibilities kicking around in the ol' brainpan as to where I can go with this...
Disclaimer: I make no claims as to nothin', be it intellectual property or financial gain. Also, the dialogue at the end is lifted directly from the script, so I didn't write it, Ben Edlund did.
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On the catwalk above the cargo bay, Jayne was slowly turning his knife over and over in his hands. Shoulders hunched as if to ward off a blow, he furrowed his brow in consternation. Jayne wasn't a man accustomed to much introspection, and he'd had enough of it today to last a lifetime.
But he couldn't get the Mudders out of his head.
Over and over, he saw Meadow dropped by the bullet that should have killed him.
Over and over, he saw the little blond haired boy handing him his bloody knife, blue eyes shining with hero worship.
Over and over, he saw the mud statue of the Hero of Canton toppling.
The clatter of boots on the metal decking brought Jayne out of himself. The Captain was making his way to his thinking spot. As Mal approached, Jayne gave his knife one final turn, then sheathed it without looking. He glowered out over the cargo bay as Mal leaned his arms on the railing next to him, silently appraising the mercenary.
Mal's heart went out to the man. Jayne wasn't used to moral dilemma, and this Canton ordeal wore heavy on him. That boy, diving in front of a bullet, even after hearing what Stitch had to say about Jayne tore Jayne up something fierce. He'd never known his hired gun to be a sentimental man, but the Mudder's adoration seemed to have some deeper impact on Jayne. Made the man proud of something "good" he did, even though it was because of something bad.
Jayne felt the silence like a weight. Like an accusation. A quick glance sidelong at Mal, however, showed nothing in his eyes but concern. He wasn't used to understanding from the Captain, and it made him mighty unconfortable. He spoke to break the silence.
"Don't make no sense. What...why the hell did that Mudder have to go and do that for, Mal? Jumping in front of that shotgun blast. Hell, there weren't a one of them understood what happened out there. They're probably sticking that statue right back up."
"Most like," Mal agreed.
"I don't know why that eats at me so."
"It's my estimation that...every man ever got a statue made of him, was one kind of sumbitch or another." Mal locked eyes with Jayne. "Ain't about you, Jayne. About what they need."
"Don't make no sense," Jayne said, lowering his head.
