He's Got a Secret

Day 4 – Healing

(Author's note: I'm not writing from experience here – I, mercifully, have never gone through what Jayne went through. But for all those who have, and who've survived … you are heroes.)


Jayne didn't get no sleep that night.

He hated tossing and turning, trying to drop off and failing, all the thoughts running round and round his head. And it wasn't usually an issue. Mama always said he could sleep through a war. Once – the time that bounty hunter Jubal Early attacked the ship, trying to get at the Doc and Moon-brain – he pretty much had.

Only problem is, when the war's inside your own noggin … well, that's different.

He'd spent a lot of time and a lot of energy putting his past behind him – way behind him. So far behind that no one could find it, and no one could shame him with it. He'd worked hard at that, gorram it! Only to find that he'd brought it with him, inside his head, the whole time. Damn frustrating.

'Course, even that wouldn't have been a problem … 'cept it turned out he was spraying his memories all over the place. And someone came along that could tune into 'em …

"Damn you, Moon-brain," he groaned to himself. If it hadn't been for her, no one would've known nothing. Yeah, she was only trying to help, but …

Jayne glanced at his chron – 0415. He gave up trying for shuteye, and sat up – gingerly – on the edge of his bed. Yeah, big help you were, girl. Thanks a million.

Thing was, he'd been getting to like River over the last few months. She was smart and good-looking and wasn't afraid to fight … hell, that job she did on the Reavers on Miranda was a thing of beauty! They'd had their scraps, sure, but that was in the past, and it sorta seemed like she was getting to like him too. Even the last few days, when she discovered his secret, she hadn't made fun of him or run off screaming – she'd stood strong, stood up to him. Most women wouldn't've hung around, let alone yelled back. Had to respect that.

The more Jayne thought about it, the more it seemed to mean. She knew – she who'd said she could kill him with her brain, and probably could – and she didn't run …

Pieces of conversations ran through his mind. River in the sick bay: you're safe here … Mal last night: if you need to talk about it, you can … River again: you're a grown man, act like it ...

So what was he supposed to do? Everyone on the ship knew something was up with him – if they hadn't known, the scene he'd made at dinner last night would've clued 'em in. Well, now what? Was he just supposed to … to tell 'em all, bare his soul and air out his shame in front of 'em? He hated the thought of that – all this time, trying to show 'em what a strong man he was, how he could handle anything. Damned if he was gonna reduce himself to some scared little kid just 'cause …

… 'cause deep inside, part of him still was a scared little kid.

Jayne sighed wearily. Well, that was the gorram heart of it, now, wasn't it? He could handle any gun you handed him better than the guys who built it, could floor just about any man with two swings of his fists, could deal with whatever situation a cruel universe wanted to sling at him and then bed two women once he was finished. But there was that hurting kid, living in fear of the night, wishing Mama were there to protect him, wanting Daddy to just qing zou and leave him the hell alone …

He looked down at his hands. They were shaking, death-gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white …

"GAAHH!" he bellowed, leaping up to pace the floor. His right hand went to his hair to pull at it, his left curled into a fist to beat against his thigh. Why couldn't things be different? Why couldn't Moon-brain have kept her pretty mouth shut? Why couldn't everyone just leave him be? Why couldn't Mama … why couldn't Daddy … why couldn't …

The words that popped into his head now were from Big Murph: son, ain't no point in playin' coulda-shoulda-woulda – past ain't gonna change no matter how much thinkin' ya do on it. Just do whatcha got to do now, that's the way ya make it …

So what now?

So what now? Good question. Would be a lot shinier to have an answer, though.

Well, he wasn't gonna get no sleep, and today was his day to cook, so he might as well get an early start on that. Maybe making coffee would give him an idea ...


Which it did … well, sorta.

Jayne put in more grounds than usual, figuring if nobody else needed it strong, he did. Even if the coffee they had was about one-third dandelion leaves, it could still pack a punch. He'd have to remember to warn Kaylee to cut it with some water, or she'd be bouncing off the bulkheads all day. As for breakfast in general … those baskets of blueberries put him in mind of blueberry pancakes. He could whip up a mean pancake – he used to make 'em all the time when he was a kid. Marcy loved 'em, and Daddy …

All the memories came flooding back. He gritted his teeth, leaned against the counter and did his level best to not throw something –

"Don't be afraid."

The voice was soft, but he still almost jumped out of his skin. River. Of course. Silently walking round on bare feet, as usual. He let out his breath. "Y'know, girl, maybe we oughta hang a bell round yer neck so you won't be sneakin' up on folks."

"With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she will have music wherever she goes," River recited, then did a little spin in the doorway.

Jayne couldn't help it – he smiled. Among other reasons, he liked watching her spin.

"But really, don't be afraid."

Her words cut past his defenses, and he spoke before he could stop himself. "But how?"

"Just … don't." And off she went.

Jayne stared at the empty doorway as the anger inside him built – and then disappeared. Because suddenly he got it. Just don't. Choose not to be afraid, the same as when he was in a firefight. The same as when he turned on his old gang to join Mal's crew. The same as when he'd walked to the police station that afternoon, Daddy's gun still in his hand …

"Duan ran," he muttered to himself. "I can do that …" He didn't need no solution, no plan – at least not yet. He just needed to not be afraid, start firing and see what happened. Story of his life, really.

And he needed to get cracking on those pancakes, or he'd never get 'em done before the rest of the crew woke up.


"These," Inara said around a mouthful of pancake, "are really good." She pointed at her plate with a fork.

"Delicious," Simon added, reaching with his own fork to spear another one off the plate in the middle of the table. Other folks agreed.

"Thanks," Jayne grunted. He took the last bite on his plate. They had come out pretty good at that.

The table went back to being silent. It was almost as if they were waiting for him to talk. Who knows, maybe they were …

don't be afraid … you're safe here … just do whatcha got to do now, that's the way ya make it …

"So, uh … so I know ya all been wonderin' what's been makin' ol' Jayne act so surly lately. Well, I know one of ya ain't wonderin', 'cause she knows." He glanced at River, who was conspicuously making a fist with her right hand, as if to say, be strong. "An' I don't know how ya might take it if I tell ya … or whether it's right to tell a story like this right after a meal … but …" He took a deep breath, let it out. "But I'm findin' I have need to tell it, get it off my chest, so … so if ya don't wanna hear it, ya can just go an' I won't hold it against ya or nothin'."

Nobody moved.

Jayne looked up at the ceiling. "Same goes for you, Ollie. Ya can tune me out if ya want."

"I'm in, lad," Oliver's brogue came from the speaker. "Say what ye mean ta."

Jayne nodded. He fiddled with his fork before going on, staring at his empty plate the whole while. "See, I was raised on Dixie Two. Daddy was a sharecropper. Mama did laundry to help out, an' Daddy'd go huntin' to put meat on the table. An' put cheap whisky in his belly. Daddy'd get to drinkin', an' he'd come home an' pick a fight with Mama and hit her. And that was life for me an' Marcy – my little sister.

"I guess Mama was getting' fed up for a while, but didn't know what to do 'bout it. Final straw was when she was, I guess, eight months along with Mattie – Matthew, my brother – and Daddy hit her so bad the baby dropped early. He made it, but … well, he's been a sickly boy to this day. Mama's parents, Gramma Vestal an' Grampa Orville, visited her in the hospital, an' when they found out what was goin' on they put their foot down. Mama never came home. Gramma an' Grampa took her and Mattie home with 'em to Dixie One, an' left word to me an' Marcy through Mrs. Johanson the town schoolteacher that they'd come back for us when they could. I was nine years old. Marcy was six.

"But they never could. Daddy was biao xiu about Gramma an' Grampa takin' Mama an' the baby, an' he got 'em charged with kidnappin'. Dixie One an' Dixie Two weren't talkin' to each other at that point, so it never got enforced – but Gramma an' Grampa were blocked from comin' for us. They kept sendin' messages through Mrs. Johanson, and so did Mama, but that's all they could do.

"An' meanwhile …"

Jayne paused to sigh and rub his forehead before getting to the tough part. Nobody else made a sound.

"… an' meanwhile, Daddy decided he needed to find a new wife. But he didn't have no money or land, and the womenfolk in the village had heard what happened to Mama so they didn't want no part of him. Even the whores wouldn't go with him, or so I'm told. Still … still, he decided he was gonna have himself a wife. An' …" He swallowed hard. "An' he decided it was gonna be me."

To his right, he heard Kaylee sob, once. To his left, Inara gasped.

"And that's the way it was. For five years. He didn't beat me … well, not any more than he always had. But whenever he wanted to … take his pleasure, he bent me over the side of the bed an' took it." Across the table, Simon groaned. "Weren't nothing I could really do at the time – he was as big as I am now, an' I was … well, I was nine years old.

"But I kept growin'. An' so did Marcy. An' when she was eleven she started becomin' a woman an' all, an' he decided she was gonna be his wife too." He swallowed hard. "An' I was not gonna let that happen.

"I knew I weren't big enough to take him – I was bigger than I'd been, but I still weren't bigger than him. An' I knew there was nowhere I could go to for help. An' I had been out huntin' with Daddy a few times, so I could load some of his guns. That afternoon when Daddy grabbed Marcy an' took her in the other room, I knew what I had to do. I went an' loaded up his automatic, eight bullets, an' I busted into the room and said, 'you leave Marcy be!'

"An' I'll never forget it. I weren't five feet away from 'em. Daddy had Marcy pinned on the bed. Her clothes were every which way, an' she had her head turned toward me with this frightened look on her face, like an animal that's been trapped. His pants were down round his ankles. An' he just looked at me with this look, like … like I was a squashed bug on the floor. I said it again – 'you leave Marcy be!' An' he … sneered at me, an' said, 'you ain't gonna do nothin', boy. You ain't man enough.' An' he went to climb on top of Marcy, an' I pointed that automatic at his head an' pulled the trigger. An' I kept pullin' it 'til it went click."

Except for Jayne's breathing, the galley was more silent than the vacuum outside the hull.

"Marcy ran up half-nekkid and hugged me, an' she was yellin', 'thank you, you saved me, you saved me!' I was half-deaf from the noise of the gun, an' we was both splattered with Daddy's blood an' brains. I told Marcy to button up an' go run to Mrs. Johanson's house an' tell her all that happened, an' to tell Mrs. Johanson to get a message to Mama an' Gramma an' Grampa. An' she did, an' I walked to the police an' turned myself in. Told 'em everything.

"They said they'd take into account my age an' the … circumstances. But I'd still killed a man. So I got three years. They didn't have no juvenile prison, so I had to go to the grown men's one.

"Prison weren't so bad – nothin' happened to me there that was any worse than what Daddy had done, an' I was growin' fast so pretty soon no one tried to mess with me at all. There was a fella there named Big Murph who'd knocked over a few stagecoaches, an' he an' I started watchin' each other's backs. He told me about the things he'd done, an' how I could make a life for myself once I got out if I was big an' good with a gun, an' not picky about my employers. Treated me kinda like a son – what a son's supposed to be treated like, I mean.

"Before I was released, Big Murph told me I should look up some old friends of his. By then, I was big enough an' looked bu-sheng-men-qi-de enough that he thought I might find some work with 'em. First one I found asked who sent me to him, an' I told him Big Murph. He asked if I could handle guns. I said yeah, I could. Asked what I did to land in jail, an' I just told him I shot my Daddy eight times in the head – I wanted to make sure the guy thought I was tough enough." Jayne smiled ruefully and shook his head. "Worked – he hired me on the spot, an' the next day we robbed an Alliance shuttle an' made off with a quarter-ton of protein concentrate.

"That was almost twenty years ago, an' I been doin' the same thing ever since, pretty much. Most of the money, I send to Mama and Marcy. I dunno if they really need it – Mama's got her own laundry business, an' Marcy – well, she's kinda in yer line of work, Inara." Jayne turned to the Companion sitting next to him. It was the first time during the whole speech that he'd looked anywhere but down.

Irana's eyebrows went up. "She's a Registered Courtesan?"

"Yep."

Inara looked around the table, and saw a lot of blank stares. "The Courtesan program was set up by the Companions' Guild to train women who can't afford the full coursework to become a Companion, or can't leave their families to attend a Companion academy. It covers a lot of the same material, but without most of the ceremonial aspects … oh, I'm sorry, Jayne – I should let you finish …"

"That's all right, I was more or less done," Jayne replied. He was back to staring at his fork again. "Like I said, they prob'ly don't need me to send 'em money. But I send it anyway, as much as I can get my hands on. I guess to prove to myself that I can provide for 'em, that … that I'm man enough." He sighed. "Maybe that's what I've been doin' all this time. Tryin' to show my Daddy he was wrong 'bout me …" He trailed off.

It was quiet for a long time after that. No one said nothing, except for the odd sniffle from Kaylee.

Of all people, it was Simon who spoke first. "I, for one, would say you've succeeded. You have proved him wrong." Kaylee smiled through her tears and hugged Simon's arm, hard.

Zoe nodded. "You're more a man than he ever was." A few others made noises agreeing with her.

One of them was Mal. "I know you and I have had our disagreements, Jayne. But I've never questioned your manhood, and I dare say I never will."

Oliver's voice came through the speaker. "Thut ye've survoived all ye've been through, lad – and come oot a dacent human bein' – makes ye aces in moi book." More nods and uh-huhs.

Then River, expressionless, stood up and walked around the table to Jayne.

"River! Wha-a?" Simon went to stop her.

But he couldn't. Kaylee had his arm and was holding him in place. "River said not to let you move," she hissed in his ear.

Simon settled down, but watched his sister with worried eyes.

River stood over Jayne for several seconds, her hands at her sides, just looking at him. Jayne had been starting to relax – his worst fear having not come to pass – but looking back at her, he felt himself tensing up again, wondering what she had planned …

Then River gently put her hands on either side of his face – and kissed him, hard and long.

Jayne heard a strangling sound from across the table (Simon choking, most like) and a bemused snort (not sure if it was Inara or Zoe) but otherwise, his attention was fully got for as long as her lips were on his. Only when she pulled away was he able to think clearly. "Uh … w-why'dja do that?"

River smiled – no, smirked. "Wanted to. Not a problem, I hope."

Jayne smiled back. "Um, nope. Not a problem at all."

"Jayne Cobb," Mal said, a chuckle in his voice. "Are you blushing?"

Jayne didn't look at him. He preferred what he was already looking at. "Go suck vacuum, sir," he replied, still smiling. So this is what healing up, really healing up deep down, felt like, he thought. Could take some getting used to, but he kinda liked it.

END (for now …)