Disclaimer: I own no named characters or other proper nouns depicted herein. Neither am I the proprietor of the lyrics of "Breaking the Habit." But I made up the noth-charges.

A/N: inspired by the song "Breaking the Habit" by Linkin Park. Takes place several months after the Miranda incident. Wanted to give a sideways meaning to the song.

Breaking

Jayne Cobb leaned against the cold steel wall of the Alliance research facility's hangar. His jaw itched from where he hadn't shaved in a few days, and his shirt itched where his own blood began to congeal around a neat slice in his side. The injury had almost healed, but he'd torn the stitches throwing the Alliance soldier away from River. Idly picking the ruptured stitches out of his side, he thought of River and hoped they'd managed to get Serenity to safety with her aboard. He never should have started caring about her

Memories concern
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again

A loud clang brought the mercenary out of his reverie and back to the real world. He had bolted the doors to keep the soldiers out, and sent River, Mal and Zoë back to Serenity on the spare shuttle. He remembered the look of disbelief on Zoë's face when he told them to just go, that he'd hold them off. He thought of Mal making sure he knew what he was committing himself to; if he knew that he likely wasn't going to survive. He could still see River's face begin to tear up when she realized what was going to happen. She tried to protest, saying that she was the logical choice to stay behind, that she had the best chance of survival.

Jayne had been taken down by River three times in the past, but those three times were due to his being taken off guard. Granted, in a fair fight River could probably take him, but he had a lot more experience than she did, and he knew that the only time you should ever confront your enemy face to face is when you want to talk. So he pistol-whipped her, sending her unconscious onto the floor, telling the others to keep her safe, to make sure that the doc keeps her healthy.

Mal and Zoë just nodded and dragged her onto the shuttle. He would normally have gone with them, but the shuttle's hull was already badly breached, so it couldn't leave the atmosphere, and the soldiers following them were equipped with seeker-charges. Someone had to stay behind and make sure they didn't get any shots off. Or make it to the anti-aircraft guns mounted just outside the hangar gates. Or get into any of the alliance shuttles and shoot them down. Jayne watched them close the shuttle doors, and saw Mal linger in the window just a moment longer than was necessary, his eyes conveying more sadness than Jayne ever remembered.

You all assume
I'm safer in my room
Unless I try to start again

He had barred the entrance doors as soon as they had entered the room, but they were just about to burst open. Jayne had set up a decent cover, and an escape route into the storage locker to the west. He'd been fighting all his life, and it was the one thing he understood better than anyone else. Better than Inara understood companioning, better than Kaylee understood machines, better than the doc understood medicine. Jayne Cobb knew fighting. That's why he wasn't taken by surprise when the hangar doors were blown off their hinges, why he didn't hesitate to start shooting as soon as he heard the explosions.

I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

As a stray bullet tore through the mercenary's left shoulder sending him to the ground, kicking back toward the storage locker, he began to wonder why he was so good at fighting. He had already taken down at least a dozen of the alliance troops in the large room, and more were falling every second. Jayne's blood flowed hot, and he began to wonder, for the first time in his life, why he had taken to this profession. 'Gorram fights,' he thought to himself, 'I didn't go lookin' fer them, they just always found me. I coulda been a painter . . .'

Jayne remembered the painting of himself that he'd wanted to give to his mother when he was thirteen. It won a prize at a competition, and he thought it would be the perfect birthday present, but some bullies from the area picked a fight with him. His first fight. The painting had been destroyed, along with the better portion of his face. Ever since then, he'd given up trying to be nice. He hadn't been nice for more than 12 years, until after the Miranda incident. On Mr. Universe's little moon, he'd started to notice that River wasn't just some crazy girl anymore. In the months that had followed, he had developed a rapport with her, even flirted back and forth. But he never went the extra mile needed, because he didn't fully understand his own feelings until only minutes earlier. She had started to cry, to offer herself up as sacrifice to save him. It was that second that he understood what he had been feeling for her. It wasn't lust; he could have any whore he wanted. It was something deeper, something meaningful. Something he hadn't felt since he was a child.

Cultured my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again

His fist slammed against the emergency release to the storage locker doors and they slid open with a rush of air. Firing his weapon the whole way, Jayne backpedaled into the room, then slammed the door shut again, but not fast enough to avoid another bullet, chewing through his right side. Ignoring the pain for the moment, the mercenary fired three shots into the control panel, fusing the door shut, giving him a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. The pain from the two bullet wounds was starting to affect his head, and the blood loss was blurring his vision.

Reloading his weapon, Jayne began to talk to himself, not realizing the state of delirium he had entered. "Never shoulda done that," he ranted to no one, "never shoulda gone an' got feelin's fer the doc's sister. Wouldn't be here 'bout to get myself ruttin' killed."

I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I have no options left again

The doors began to reverberate with the force being used to batter them down. Jayne tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder and torso, pulling his rifle up to firing position, standing fatalistically in the center of the room. The charges he'd placed on either side of the door should be enough to keep them from killing him right away, but he doubted he'd survive more than a few minutes. The doors burst open, and as the charges blew, the mercenary started to wonder why he even bothered with all this, why he bothered with all the fighting. The others must have gotten away by now, he could just give up and die.

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean

"Come on!" the mercenary shouted at the top of his lungs as the fired into the momentarily stunned mass of soldiers, "Come on, you sheep ruttin', varmint lovin', milk drinkin', yellow bellied, gold-brickin' BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO!"

The battle was predetermined; he knew there was no way he could win. But he'd be damned if he was going to go down easy. Silently, he wondered why.

I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight

He figured that, at least this once, he could do something worthwhile. He'd finally be able to die knowing that he'd done something good for someone he cared about. He screamed and fired and laughed as bullets tore into his flesh. He didn't know how long he managed to stay standing, and even after he had fallen he kept firing. He wasn't going to allow them to harm River (when did she stop being "crazy girl" and start being "River?"). No one was going to take her anywhere she didn't want to go, and if he had to die to make sure of that, then he would, despite his preternaturally strong self-preservation instinct. But he couldn't go on forever, he had to rest.

I'll paint it on the walls

The mercenary saw blood, both his and his enemies' staining the walls of the storage locker. His vision blurred. He stood, ignoring his pain, and fired more rounds at the silhouettes attacking him.

Cuz I'm the one that falls

One last round to the leg sent Jayne to the ground for the final time. He didn't even try to stand back up. His arms were numb, he couldn't feel his hands. He saw a white light as the silhouettes of the alliance soldiers faded.

I'll never fight again

River landed Serenity in front of the hangar doors, then dashed to the cargo bay. They had dropped noth-charges into the hangar before they landed, effectively eliminating the remaining alliance troops. Halls and doors blurred past the young warrior woman as she charged through halls, down stairs, and finally out the cargo doors. She knew where Jayne was, but she didn't know if he was alive. He had to be, he just couldn't be dead. She trampled the few still living soldiers without notice, and hurdled the dead with equal disregard. She passed through the doors to find Jayne laying in a pool of his blood mixed with that of the troops he had fought off. River froze, unable to believe what she was seeing. Mal arrived just after her and called for the doctor, then ran past her to check on his friend.

River couldn't think. The world stopped and time froze, existence flickered, as though threatening to cease. She watched as her brother and Zoë rushed past him in slow motion, never taking her eyes off of Jayne. She had started to care about him after Ariel, when she sensed his genuine guilt about his actions. And then when he had so bravely charged in to save Mal from Niska, despite his claims that he wouldn't involve himself. After the job on Bellerophon, she had begun to flirt with him, though she now realized that her mental state at the time made it seem more like a threat than anything. After the Miranda incident, her mind mended itself, and she was no longer racked between seesawing babbling idiocy and supernatural clarity, and she had begun to show her interest in ways that everyone understood.

Simon had been appalled at first, but he watched and saw how Jayne treated her back, and eventually gave his blessing. Mal had been all for it from the beginning, seeing how it both made them happy and made Jayne more trustworthy. River shattered the slow-motion world and ran to the man she believed she had fallen in love with. Simon had stood and was shaking his head. Mal's fists were clenched as he turned back to the ship, calling back "Everyone back on board in five minutes. EVERYONE!"

Everybody knew that he had emphasized "everyone" to mean that Jayne's body was to be brought on board as well. River helped pick his body up to carry him into the cargo bay. She knew that she wouldn't last long, that as soon as they were on Serenity, she would break down. She didn't care.

And this is how it ends

A/N: Noth-Charges stands for "nothingness charges," my take on what the deep-space equivalent of a depth-charge would be. R/R appreciated.