He quit drinking the day he moved into that rattletrap house. It was partly a matter of convenience, as there wasn't a single settlement within comfortable walking distance. He didn't see the need for wasting fuel and coin on a trip to town to get blind-drunk when there were more important things still needed.
Late at night, though, as he beds down on the warped floor in the living room and peers up at the stars visible through the hole overhead, he admits the real reason he hasn't touched a drop in weeks.
His early childhood was awash in his ma's tears as she waited up, night after night, for a man who seldom remembered he had a home. Matty would lift up the covers and Jayne would crawl into bed and the two of them would stay wrapped around each other until sleep carried them far from the sound of Ma's tears.
When he first struck out on his own, Jayne tried not to fall into the same pit that his pa had. He did okay for a few months, but eventually the twin temptations of a pocket full of coin and lap full of woman wore him down. He spent almost two years in a fog of stick-em-ups and drink-em-downs before a whore and her boyfriend rumbled him on Persephone.
He stayed relatively sober after that, not wanting to be taken for an easy mark. As Persephone faded from his mind, he relaxed his guard somewhat and started drinking again. Never anything like his first years in the black, but he wasn't opposed to blowing off steam now and again.
After Higgins's Moon, he drank even less. Until the Reavers came. He was proud of how well he held up in that fight, but afterwards, he found himself reaching for the bottle more and more. He stumbled back to the boat and passed out at the bottom of his bunk's ladder more times than he cared to count.
Now, though, he stares up at the stars and doesn't miss the rounded curves of the bottle as it filled his hand. He doesn't miss the burn of whiskey as it rolled down his throat. He doesn't even miss the sweet haze that covered him like a blanket as he staggered up Serenity's ramp on too many nights and even more mornings.
He has something else to fill his hands now, something else to burn his throat, something else to blanket him in warmth. He's building a home and one day -- sooner than he knows -- he's going to be a pa.
Jayne Cobb has had enough of a mother's tears for one lifetime. He won't be the cause of any more.