Disclaimer: All characters are property of Joss Whedon
Excerpt from Simon Tam's Journal- Entry 748
Jayne Cobb is a man of many things, but depth isn't one of them. He doesn't think before he speaks, before he acts, before he shoots. I'm not sure that he's ever held a thought in his head more than four minutes at a time. I don't know if two brain cells of his have ever rubbed together enough to make any kind of spark, to form any sort of idea that didn't somehow gain him one of his basic primal needs. He's barely evolved from the apes of Earth That Was, spitting and grunting and showing signs of aggression to establish dominance. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend how someone so thick could work complicated machinery like the arsenal of weapons he has at arms reach at any given moment. It's one of the few mysteries about him.
Jayne isn't the kind of man that knows how to spell the word "sensitivity", let alone comprehend its meaning. It's not secret that he and I don't get along; I have a feeling that it revolves a great deal around Kaylee. Despite the way he takes women to his bed with the regularity akin to that of a well wound pocket watch, it's obvious to anyone with observational skills that Jayne has a softness for her. A small part of me feels badly for him, and hopes that someday, he might settle down enough and gather enough courage or sense to tell the mechanic how he really feels.
A bigger part of me is glad that I got to her first.
It's entirely barbaric, and I know it, but there are some things that a man just can't help. I'd like to think that I've evolved past men like Jayne, that I have far more sophistication, that I don't fall victim to childish displays of ego. I would like to think that, but sometimes, I'd be wrong about it. I do know that despite those thoughts, and that little swell of manly pride, I can confidently say that I'm mature enough that I would never gloat or sneer in his direction because of it. It's not a competition to me. The truth of the matter is that I like Kaylee. She has a goodness in her that you don't find often in Core women. There's too much pettiness, and rivalry, too much cattiness among them. With Kaylee, things are simple. At least they are now, now that I'm sure of what's what and where things are going between us, and how far they could be allowed to progress. Stability can change everything.
It was a thought about stability, and permanence, and happiness, that made me think of River. She had a stable home with our parents, and she was happy there. And now we have stability on Serenity, we have a permanence here. I'm almost positive that we'll both be here until we die, or until the captain does. I don't care much to think about that. Besides, the current problems we face are much more pressing. We might have stability in location, but River's mind is another matter entirely. I know she is getting better but the dreams still plague her, and I know that she sees things, and maybe people, that aren't really there. My sister has always been imaginative. Her entire life she's been narrating mundane events as though they were fairy tales. She's prone to moments of whimsy and etherealness, and I always took comfort in them. It was just River being River. Now, though, they worry me. Whenever she starts talking about magical moments, or funny people we don't know in the real world, I can't help but wonder if she's being normal, or if this is a moment where she's lost from herself. That's how she described it to me- she said she felt lost from herself. She said it was like watching herself run down a long corridor, and she can see the person who she's supposed to be but she can't catch them, and instead she trips or falls or stumbled into another room, another River, one that's not supposed to be. It worries me that my sister can't control her own sense of being, and that there are thoughts and memories in her head that aren't hers. What worries me most, though, is that River talks about herself as though she's someone else, just another person in the room she's watching.
On one of our more recent jobs, while the crew was liberating some person or another of some goods or another, I myself was doing a bit of thievery to another unlucky merchant. I'm ashamed to say that I almost feel proud of this, as though it solidifies me as one of the crew. Burglary came easy to me, and that's worrisome, but it's another worry for another day. The theft was necessary, and in defense to myself I don't believe it will be something much missed on that outer rim planet. The "score", as Wash used to call it, was books. The local antique store had a cache of old texts on psychology and the human brain, as well as some dusty articles and scientific journals of similar topics. I don't think I've held an actual book in my hands since I was a child, and I don't think anyone had been holding these books in decades. For once I was glad for the attention that my fellow crew mates garnered, because it gave me ample opportunity to collect as many as I could carry and rush out with them. Nobody in the entire town noticed. Jayne clapped a hand on my shoulder and told me I'd "Done pretty good", which only adds to the shame in the pride I have in myself. But, regardless, I am now the owner of fifteen varying insights and studies on human psychology.
I'm not a psychologist, far from it. I know the chemical and electrical and the functional ways of the human brain. But I can't begin to say that I know anything about how it really, truly works. I can stimulate tissue and tell you where in your brain you will find the memory bank, or your emotions, or which synapses light up when you're falling in love. I don't know why people think the way that they do. But I do know that when a patient begins to separate themselves, or they show an indifference to their situation, it means they are giving up. I know that if River is removing herself from what's really happening, then she's conceding defeat and accepting that this is the way it is, and she's lost herself for good.
I don't want my sister to concede defeat. I don't want to lose her. I don't think- No, I'm certain of the fact that there isn't a more brilliant and beautiful mind in the entire universe than my sister's. To let that mind slip away... I refuse to do that. But it has become clear to me that I can't fix it by myself. The more I read from my stolen bounty, the more I see that I can't possibly juggle all of her healing on my own. My crew mates- my family, as I see them now- have been the greatest help I could ask for. They would do anything to help us, to help her.
At least, I'm hoping so. After everything we've been through I realize that her mind can't be forced back to the way it was before, and I'll need to be patient with that. Aside from a few episodes of mania or hysterics, we can deal with that. I can't pretend that isn't a threat to us in other ways, though. It still chills me to remember the way my baby sister looked when we got to her after that room full of Reavers, the way her eyes burned and that look on her face, and the way she stood... There was barely a scratch on her. I have nightmares about that but I keep them to myself, I don't even write them down because I refuse to maintain any association with that person and my sister. I can't pretend they're not the same person, though, as much as I'd like to. I've seen the damage she can do, what the academy training has done to her, and there's only one solution that I can see right now.
I need to untrain her. Or, if I can't erase what she's been taught, then retrain her. There was an angry moment where the captain asked me who we were waiting to find, the girl or the weapon. I'm ashamed that in that moment I didn't know. I do know now, I'm one hundred percent certain of the answer now. Despite her fits, and her visions, despite her lunacy or brilliance, and the physical danger she imposes on us or the emotional danger she puts on herself, I know she's going to come out the other side because I'm going to help her do it. And I know that when she does, when she's finally through the long and terrifying tunnel to recovery, we're going to find my baby sister.
My River.