Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly.
For You
This is for you.
He steps from the shuttle, relishing in the burn of the sun as it caresses his skin. The desert spreads out before him, peppered with stones and the occasional tuft of browning greenery. He turns from the glaring light and his eyes fall on the rounded tomb-stones that mark his destination. He sets off, his combat boots crunching as he puts his weight on the brittle dirt.
For all of you.
The holograms come into focus as he nears the graves. First, the smiling face of the pilot; his eyes shining with the happiness of his expression. The man places a hand on the stone as he reads the name, muttering it under his breath. "Hoban Washburne." The name sounds wrong when compared to the face, but he does not dwell. There are two other graves to see.
For the lives I took.
He passes by the middle one, for now, and watches for a minute as Mr. Universe and his…Love-Bot smile out at him. The memory of the man's death plays vividly in his mind and he has to turn away as his eyes begin to burn.
For the lives I stole.
Finally, he lets his eyes fall on the center grave. He kneels before it, a child waiting for a story, and watches Shepherd Derrial Book's holographic face. The Shepherd isn't truly smiling, but he isn't truly not. His eyes look out from the stone, ever watchful, and the man feels the warmth of tears as they begin their slow drip down his cheeks.
The sun is long set before he returns to the shuttle. He never looks back, and he knows he will never return. This is enough.
This is for you.