Feed Me To Stones
By Jeremy
Pairings: Mal/Jayne
Rating: PG-13 at best
Summary: Mal has just lost everything- literally- and Jayne is the only one by his side. But he's not too sure how good of a thing that is yet. Post BDM, slightly AU, slash.
Words: 2042
A/N: This was written for the Slash-A-Thon at the LJ community FireflySlash. The first several chapters are suitable for but there's at least one chapter (and more planned) that fall directly into smutty territory which I'll have to trim for this site. I'll add a link to a place where you can find the smut in appropriate chapters. Also, thanks to ThunderNari on LJ for the beta and notes.
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If there were any other word for it other than 'perverse' then that's what Mal would have called it. That's if he had any ability to speak at all at the moment. Instead he was holed up in this dark freezing cave on a dusty rock, his jaw practically cracked in two, or so it felt, and an angry gunman, who just saw his pay ride away on horseback for the umpteenth time, as his only company.
He had taken Zoë aside a week ago while en route to Jiangyin. She had been mourning the death of her husband since the events on Miranda, not more then a scant two months prior. And yet despite her pain she, ever the warrior and soldier, insisted on working. Mal couldn't allow that though. "You're not leaving this ship." He looked her firm in the eye as she sat cleaning her gun in the cockpit. "It's just a simple drop off; we go in with fire in our eyes after what everybody's heard about us and we'll never find work again. We need to make a good impression, show we can do simple jobs under the radar." He kept steady eye contact with Zoë, trying to show sympathy. "Dong ma?"
Zoë stood sharply and clicked the gun together. "Yes, sir." She left the gun on the pilots chair as she left the cockpit.
After everything they did for the gorram 'verse, all the troubles they went through to show everybody just what the Alliance was truly capable of, you'd imagine they'd be hailed as big damned heroes. But, judging by the welcome they got from Barley and his men, that just weren't the case.
According to Barley they were nothing but "Traitorous érzi de jìnǚ." With a kick to Mal's face and a barked command to his lackeys, they confiscated his cargo, his ship, and his crew. Mal watched, guns trained on his chest, as Barley's men boarded the ship. He could hear the scuffle onboard, the sounds of gun shots rang out but were quickly brought to a halt. Smoke began to billow out the back of the ship.
"Knock out gas," Barley snickered. "Won't do 'em harm, so long as they stay down."
In what could be considered an ungentlemanly move, he ordered Mal to dis-arm and march out into the mountains, hands held over his head, until Barley couldn't see him anymore. Angry and delirious with the pain throbbing away in his jaw it took Mal damned near an hour before he realized Barley had sent one of his men to follow him fifty paces behind on horseback.
What had made Mal aware of the man following him was the commotion Jayne stirred with a sneak attack. Mal watched as Jayne, having jumped down on the man from atop a boulder, pull out a buck knife and effortlessly slide it across his face from cheek to cheek in a big Cheshire grin. Leaving the corpse on horseback, Jayne turned it around and sent it back the way it came from with a smack on its rear. Blood freckled the sandstone hills as the animal galloped away.
Mal couldn't stop himself from gawking. Jayne glistened with sweat and filth, his shoulders heaving with every gasping breath. For one moment, Mal could see every folk hero he'd heard tale of standing before him.
Jayne turned his eyes on Mal, wild yet focused— it sent a shiver through Mal. His hands coated with sticky red death, Jayne grabbed him by his arm and guided him further into the hills. "Let's go."
So here they were, cold darkness having long since slipped across the mountains they now hid in. It was impossible to see as no light, natural or unnatural, peaked in from the entry of the cave. And from the sounds of it Jayne sat not too far away, heels digging into the dirt and the occasional animal-like snort.
All things considered, Mal was certainly appreciative of the company, even if it was awful silent. Not as if he could keep up his end of conversation in the state he was in. But just knowing that Jayne had tracked him, saved him really, was something to keep his mind occupied.
But, as much as he appreciated Jayne's sudden show of loyalty, Mal couldn't help but wonder what the other man was expecting in return. Sure couldn't be money, seeing as how they haven't had enough paying jobs since everybody they ever knew went belly-up on them recently. Beyond that, Mal didn't rightly know what Jayne was interested in, least not when it came to where their paths crossed. Man was somewhat of an enigma to him, even after all these years.
"So," Jayne's low and raspy voice came from the darkness, almost surprising Mal. Almost. "What do we do now, Captain Wow?"
Mal shifted awkwardly. He knew if he tried to respond with actual words it'd do him more harm than good, but he wasn't exactly sure how aware Jayne was of his felled jaw. So he made the only sound he could muster, "Nng."
There was a silent pause before a confused Jayne responded. "What?"
"Nn nng ng nmm-nin."
A longer pause, followed by a more exasperated "What?"
Already annoyed by his futility at the moment, Mal tried to think quickly on how to tell Jayne he couldn't very well talk. It was too dark to try and write it into the dirt, and he was pretty sure the man wasn't schooled in sound codes like they trained you with in the war. There had to be something that was easy to understand without having to see.
Then he had an idea. He scooted himself toward Jayne, using his ears to guide him, and propped himself against the cave wall being wary of his slack jaw, feeling the dull ache turn into a cool burn.
Jayne, sensing the intrusion on his space, shifted a little but didn't move away. Trying to figure the best way how to do the next step Mal opted for the more direct approach and grabbed Jayne by the wrist, resting the other man's hand palm up in his own left hand.
"What're you doing?" Jayne demanded, somewhere between shocked and irritated. He tried to pull his hand away but Mal held him firm.
Mal growled. "Nng." His tone was authoritative. Jayne didn't argue anymore but the tenseness in his hand gave away his discomfort with their proximity to each other.
But as Mal began to glide his finger up Jayne's palm the discomfort got to be too much and he ripped his hand away. "Shì shénme zài dìyù?" Jayne yelled.
Mal snarled as he grabbed Jayne's hand again more firmly and held it tight, palm up again. This time he went quicker, practically digging his nail into his palm to show Jayne he meant business.
He dragged his finger first in an up, down slant, up slant, down motion. Then a V motion on the top of his palm followed by a line down the rest of the way. "Ng." He paused, just long enough to show he was switching words, then did a curved swoop, an upside down V with a line through it, and a down up-slant down-slant up motion. "Nng." Pause, then a straight line down followed by a curvey one starting at the top-right, and swooping a few times to the bottom left. "Ng." Pause, then he rapidly did another series of the motions punctuated by an "Nmm-nin."
He could sense Jayne calculating what just transpired in his head for a moment before Mal felt him practically jump. "Your jaw is broken?" He exclaimed, concern in his voice. Mal clapped Jayne's hand by way of affirmation. "Well, why didn't you say so earlier?" And again Jayne was irritated.
Jayne pulled his hand back, this time more gingerly, and began to rustle about his person, pulling something off somewhere. "Here," He said as he felt for Mal's shoulder, then slowly brought his body around, trying to find a position in front of Mal. Jayne moved his hand from the shoulder and up Mal's neck to his face; Mal couldn't control the shiver Jayne's calloused fingers stirred in him. He could feel Jayne's breath coating him in warmth.
Delicately, Jayne felt along Mal's jaw line trying to gauge the severity of the problem. "Okay," he said. "I'm no doctor but I've seen this kind of thing a few times. I mean, can't see nothing now but from the feel of it I think you ought to be okay if I sling your jaw tonight and we try to find a doctor tomorrow morning."
Mal did his best to nod, but Jayne held his head steady. "This might sting for a second." He pulled the cloth thing under Mal's chin, brought it up over his head and tied it so that it was neither too tight nor too loose.
"How's that feel?"
It hurt, honestly. But Mal wasn't the kind to complain. So instead he reached up and gave Jayne's shoulder an appreciative squeeze. It was then, at the touch of bare skin under palm, that he realized what the cloth around his head was. In a wave of clarity he realized the closeness of their two bodies, Jayne hovering over his crotch with no shirt on in the dark. If he wanted to Mal could lick him. Granted that his jaw were in working order. Also granting Jayne wouldn't put it right back in non-working order if he tried such a thing.
"Is it too tight?" Jayne asked, pulling Mal right out of that thought. He suddenly realized that he had been squeezing Jayne's shoulder for just a touch too long.
He made a 'no' sound and patted Jayne's shoulder. Last thing Mal wanted was for Jayne to find reason to leave him stranded. He needed the man here right now. He needed the extra strength. And Mal would be damned if he could go this long without giving away his feelings only to screw it up at the worst possible time.
"Well alright," Jayne interrupted his thought process again, much to Mal's relief. "We should probably get some shut eye so we can go rescue everybody tomorrow and get the doc to take a look at you." Mal could tell by Jayne's tone that he meant in that order, and the doctor he was referring to was Simon. It was a scary prospect, but he was pretty sure no other doctor in town would help the man exiled by their sheriff and mayor.
And that was when Mal suddenly felt a wave of worry come crashing over him. Simon and River. That boy and his kin might have got themselves famous, but the Alliance was still after them. He began to fret about that son of a bitch Barley turning them over to the proper authorities. Barley may have been a beacon of hope for his townspeople, but he wasn't opposed to making coin off of other people's misery. Especially the kind of coin River and Simon might bring in.
Jayne sighed, and whispered, "What're you sighing about over there so much? It sounds all weird." From the way he was talking- mostly to himself- it was apparent he thought Mal had fallen asleep. So taking that to his advantage Mal closed his eyes, willing himself into slumber.
Now, he wasn't sure exactly how he wound up on Miranda, but it wasn't the way he remembered. It seemed that the Alliance had gone back and fixed everything; everybody was cheerful and going about their daily lives. That was the important thing, the people were alive.
"Help a veteran out?" He heard a voice ask. He looked around the glaringly bright surroundings trying to find the source of it. "Spare any coin?" Every face he looked at glared back at him in disgust.
"Would you help a veteran, sir?" The voice asked again. A tall man in a pinstriped suit passed him, his dark hair greased back and his beard cropped close. The man snarled at him.
"Get a real job, Browncoat."
The voice asked again. "Please, sir?" Suddenly he recognized the voice. It was his own. Angered by this epiphany Mal decided to stalk the man in the pinstriped suit. "Help a man out?" He asked again, angrily.
The man turned away from him. "Leave me alone." It began to rain.
"Help a veteran out?" Mal growled, suddenly finding himself on his stomach and crawling after the other man. He was furious, and it was his rage that pulled him along.
The other man quickened his pace to a near run. The sounds of his steps through the rain drowned out anything he might have said.
Mal felt his fingers break as he dragged himself along, losing the distance between himself and the other man. The ground beneath him began to turn to mud and he felt himself sinking deep and hard. "HELP ME!" He screamed, feeling his jaw burn and ache as the mud pushed on him.
He felt a strong calloused hand grab him just before he sank completely and was pulled out of the mud with a sickening sucking sound. The ground beneath him had disappeared and the man in the pinstriped suit was now staring him dead in the face.
It was Jayne.