Disclaimer: Firefly & Characters aren't mine. Money sure as heck isn't mine either (gorramit!). My heart is just dancing in their 'verse for a little while.

Exchanging Words – 9

Kaylee had trouble getting the tinder to catch in the old fireplace. She hoped there were enough holes in the flue to keep the smoke from filling the one room cabin. Maybe guide folks to where they were. Ty said he'd known better than to go to his grand pap's – not no idiot, he'd spit in the pale, overworked dirt.

He hid the fat wheeler in a dry wash. They'd hiked near to three miles through the woods, not following any path Kaylee could discern. He had no breath for talking, except to hurry her along and boast, just the one time. "Friends of mine used this place when we was running ammo. Doubt anyone alive remembers it's here."

Ty was a gaunt man, sallow faced and obviously hurting in his chest. Sweat dripped off his brown hair into his eyes. They were still blue, but glassy, darting about like an owl. His working clothes were threadbare and dirty, crusted with dust. Some of the King's blood was splattered on his leg. He shivered even as the exertion reddened his cheeks.

"I'm gonna need some firewood." Kaylee turned toward him, tugging her skirt so she wasn't flashing herself at him. He kept staring at her – hungry, so hungry like. She glanced at the door, "Should I fetch it?"

"Use what we got. There's plenty under that canvas there." He waved the gun, "Fetched it last night after I saw them dragging the women into that hell hole. Knew them slavers would bring use ya to bargain today. Don't like to feed the merchandise. Bided my time till that fat old bastard was sippin his tea."

"I'm … glad you finally come home … Ty." Kaylee lifted the canvas and cradled a few pieces of wood to feed the tinder. Didn't take long to get it going. She rubbed dust from her hands and stood up. She tried to think of something simple and easy to say. "You worried bout the weather?"

"No, why?" He looked at her like she was crazy. Watching out the window, careful not to stand in front of it but at an angle where he could see the woods.

"You keep starring out that window, thought maybe bad weather was coming." Kaylee forced a smile.

Ty looked toward the sky, "Just a bit cloudy. It'll get cold tonight though. Might snow next few weeks if the damp makes it this far south."

"Seems early for snow don't ya think?" Kaylee took a step toward the center of the room.

"It does. Can't predict the weather or crops except there'll be too much of the weather and not enough of the crops." He snorted and took to coughing until he was pale as the wallboard bleached by the sun. His stomach drew in, tight and sunk, so that his ribcage poked way out as he wheezed air in little gasps.

"Get back from that door!" He barked.

Kaylee jumped back. Spinning toward him with her hands gripped across her middle, like a prayer.

"Don't want you to be a target, Rosa." He waved her toward the center of the room. Kaylee sat down on the rickety chair at the warped table.

"That's a bad cough. Need to let me fetch you some tea and yellow goose root." Kaylee plucked at a hangnail to hide the fact her hands were shaking. "Market isn't far, we could go together, like … like we used to or I could-"

"Got provisions. In the cupboard up there." Ty pointed with is chin toward the far wall. He leaned back, struggling to draw breath.

She made tea and it eased his breathing. He said he was hungry, so she fried up a small skillet of onions and taters. Been years since she'd cooked over a fire, liked to singe her face off a couple times. Made Ty laugh though and laughing wasn't so scary as waving that gun about and ranting about slavers and retribution days being just around the corner.

While he was nibbling, she pointed out that the bed was more fleas than stuffing. He wouldn't hear of her setting it outside to air. Late in the day, she handed him another cup of tea and tried to convince him to rest. "I'll watch if you think we still need to."

"I'm fine, Rosa." He smiled, looking younger than he was for a moment. His hand brushed against her hair, fingering the strands.

Kaylee bit her lip to keep from gagging. His breath was hot and smelled of poison, a rusted metal smell, corroding from the inside out. She could see the sores boiled up on his neck, a few on hid beneath his collar and one behind his ear. When he leaned in and snatched a kiss, she swallowed her scream, moaned her fear. She jerked back but he held her wrist, her arm was extended as far as it would go.

"No need to fret." He sighed. Tired but waving that gun like it was enough energy all the same. "I'm home now."

"Let me put some wood on the fire, Ty." Kaylee tugged with all of her strength to free herself. "It's getting chilly in here and your sick."

"I been poorly, true enough." He turned back to the window. "I'll be fine now I've found you. That's all that matters." He choked on the tea and wiped the liquid from his chin with the back of his hand.

As the sun marched across the horizon, he talked when he could get enough breath. Told her how he'd search for her. What he'd seen in the war, some of what he'd rather not have seen after. His voice thickened to hoarse wheezes. He drifted to silence. Gun pointed right at her, not the woods, as if his heart knew what he just wouldn't see. She weren't Rosa.

Sun was creeping low and most of the wood was gone. Wind had howled most of the afternoon. Clouds rolled in, not quite drizzling but wetting everything through with damp. Kaylee watched Ty watch the woods till he couldn't stand and slid to the floor. His head flopped around on his neck like a broken doll. She grabbed the gun when it slid from his hand and set it in the wood box, under the canvas.

Kaylee dragged him to the fireplace. The bed was disgusting but the quilt he'd brought along was thick, dry and mostly clean. She covered him with it. The bucket of water next to the fireplace was cold. She dunked a towel in it. Raising his shoulders, she slid under him, and rested his head in her lap. Gently, she draped the towel over his forehead. He choked and gagged. With a grunt, she rolled him to his side so's the onions and taters could escape. She threw a second towel over the mess and wrestled him back near the fire. Covered him well, then wiped his chin and neck.

"Help is on the way, Ty. I'm sure … the family is sending help soon." Kaylee rolled her eyes at her weak lie but the man didn't notice. She wasn't scared now he didn't have the gun. And, not like when Mal was hurt and she thought he might bleed away in her lap. She was terrible sorry for the man resting on her, hanging on so tight to his life, to her. His eyes were clouded, the blue faded, hurting for what he couldn't find more than what he was suffering at the moment.

He clutched for her hand. "Rosa? Where are ya gal?"

"I'm right here, rest." Kaylee brushed damp hair from his clammy face.

"They told me you was dead – I never believed 'em. Alliance bastards will tell you anything to make ya give up the cause." His hand was like ice when it found her cheek. "Don't cry. I'm home now. When I get rested, we'll make this gravel and weed pay. Show them what free folks can do."

Kaylee made a soothing sound and tucked his hand back under the covers. She could feel his breath rattling beneath her hand. Wanting to soothe his thrashing about, she feathered a kiss on his forehead, "Rest now, Ty. Rosa's here."

"Don't leave me!"

"I'm right here, Ty. Won't leave ya." Kaylee sniffed, repeated the phrase and others more times than she'd ever be able to recollect. Until she meant it, until she was Rosa.

He begged. He pleaded for her never to leave him. Cried a little. Asked her to hold his hand – asked her again, cause he couldn't feel her gripping it. Yelled at her bout not taking care of the place, too. Demanded she never leave him. Cursed her for trying to hold the land and letting herself go.

Kaylee promised, soothed and agreed. Rubbed his chest to ease the pain, ignored the smell of his breath and drizzled cold water on the sores cause he said they burned. Hummed a lullaby when he started screaming bout the war. Sang hymns when he started begging her to shoot him so's they didn't lock him up again.

He passed from living in her lap. Gulped at air that couldn't fit in lungs so full of fluid. Gave up, just as the sun quit the day. Kaylee cradled him, rocking and humming, lost in his confusion and the darkness. Her legs were numb from his weight and her flesh chilled to the bone. She kept promising him everything would be fine. Help was on the way.

"You'll be up choppin wood fore you know it…."

--oooo—

Ty's body was cooled; Kaylee's was freezing. She couldn't move; couldn't leave him alone. Had no idea where in the hell she was, or where the fat wheeler could be found. When light flashed across the cracked window glass, Kaylee reached beneath the canvas and slipped the gun into her lap, next to Ty's head. Just like she promised, she wouldn't let no one take him – hurt him.

Kaylee patted his shoulder. "Are there wild dogs out here? God, I hope not! Coulda told me important stuff like that, instead of war stories."

She leaned back against the bricks, "No thunder. Just jumpy." Humming, she watched the window anyway, not even a moth flickered by.

Her eyes were scratchy from watching so long. She wanted to rub them but she hadn't washed her hands since - "Got no genius plan. Musta used 'em all up." She whispered, "You sure are a heap of trouble for such a skinny guy."

She paused, looking down at the shell of a man, fingering his hair as if he'd open his eyes and tell her something – anything - else any second. She hoped he'd tell her there were no dogs roaming the woods.

No light but the glow from the coals in the fireplace. She wouldn't know where to look for more wood, in the dark. And it was darker than space out there. She couldn't even see the stars, only clouds and mist. No distant sun or auxiliary light to kick on. No engine noise, no squabbling in the cargo hold or fussing in the kitchen. Nothing to fix. Nothing to mend. Dark. And … nothing.

"Got decent atmo. That's good." She smoothed the blanket across him, though it hadn't moved. Her voice droned on, a soft whisper that echoed in the hollow cabin. "Help will be here … soon. Did I ever tell you bout holding Mal like this? He was hurt. It's why we're here. Scrapping, not slavin like you said."

Kaylee used the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks, "My daddy used to say I had leaky valves, but he didn't mean nothin by it. I don't mean nothing, my eyes, they just drip and make a mess. It's nothing."

She shifted her leg, snatching at Ty's arm as it slid to the floor, no thud. No sound of pain. Tucking it back, Kaylee shuddered. "Just not good at sittin still. Anyway, Cap'n and I were stuck on this wreck. Weren't scared then. There were things to fix. Cap'n wasn't scared, talked some. We can be quiet. We can talk. Doesn't feel uncomfortable. He thinks I can do anything – fix everything. He told Inara I'm strong. No one's ever said that before – not and meant it."

Her eyes drooped, feeling heavy. Something popped in the fireplace and she started. She noticed Ty's slack mouth, shivered and found another train of thought. "I like to see his smile. Feels right to see him that way. All of Mal smiles when he looks at me, even before. Hell, I like to see his eyes all tensed and his voice all growly – Just like to see him…. Now would be a good time to see him, dontcha think? "

Kaylee grinned, "Course, now he's probably tetchy. Won't be easy to say a thing till he calms down. We were playin this morning, not rushing. Trying to take our time. Special, and different to know he didn't want me to go with the King. Not cause he didn't think kindly of the man – but because he just wanted me to … stay. I could see it. Scared him maybe, just a bit."

Her sigh echoed back and mocked her, "I didn't even – didn't make sure he knew I wanted to stay… left him sitting there, thinking we had all the time in the 'verse. Shoulda know'd better."

Kaylee frowned, "Is the moon was rising already?" She wondered how long she'd blabbered on. Rubbing at her arms, she shrugged, "You know, talking don't always come out right. Lovin Rosa like you do, you must know bout not needin words so much as ya need … to hold, be held or just laugh when you're mad like ya know it won't really matter, the being mad…." Kaylee leaned forward to see the window better and patted the corpse like she woulda liked someone to reassure her. "Mad's just a feelin for a little bit. It can't make all the good ones go away. Not even when ya prod the mad – just won't make the love go. Was Rosa like that? Laughin and smiling at ya – makin ya mad so's ya loved her any which ways? I know why ya chased that feelin and her for so long… I surely do…."

No, weren't the moon, she realized, but lights, bobbin in the woods. There! Shining on the window. Kaylee fumbled in her lap for the weapon Ty had waved in King Feron's face then hers. Didn't mean nothing, just the fever most probably.

"A Shepherd showed me how to do this." Kaylee lifted the gun and tried to remember all he'd told her bout shooting, but nothing much remained. She'd wanted to forget what she didn't do. "All right, so I probably won't do it well, but," Kaylee bit her lip, "I won't not do it this time, Cap'n. Don't you worry, no one's gonna hurt ya no more, Malcolm Reynolds. No one."

Kaylee gulped air and whispered, "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."

The door was kicked open. A light flashed in her face and Kaylee fired the weapon. Someone hit the dirt howling.

Jayne shouted. "Gorram girl shot me in the ass!" Rolling in the dirt.

"Kaylee!" Mal called to her, not in front. Not in the dirt rolling and dying. Nearer. Alive.

Monty crouched near Jayne, shouting at the tracker to stay put. Kaylee fired again – no one fell down. No one screamed. No one was there to hit.

"This isn't so hard!" Kaylee giggled. "See, Cap'n, I won't let ya down."

"Kaylee, what the hell are you doing?" Mal shouted again.

She looked down at the weight in her lap. "I'm taking care of you."

"You gonna take my head off, woman." Mal's voice was nearer, soft. Not quite a laugh but not the fear she'd first heard. No light flashing or stomping boots. Just near. She could hear his breath - but his head was in her lap…?

She reared back, startled when he flipped on the light at his feet. Her head hit the ragged brick behind her. Mal had crept in the back door. He was squatting in front of her. Grim faced – Cap'n's not asking, he's telling face.

"Give me that thing." He snatched the gun from her and dropped it on the table. Without any tenderness, he grabbed her under the arms and hauled her from beneath Ty's body. He slammed her against him, digging his fingers into her back, groaning back deep in his throat. His coat flapped forward, hugging her too. Not a word, just the sound of his heart pounding in her ear. Kaylee breathed his anger, a heat that was scorching pins and needles in her cheek and neck.

"You all right?" He demanded, shook her a little when she didn't say nothing.

Kaylee nodded, squeezing into him. His arms tightened so it hurt to breathe. She didn't think it wasn't close enough….

"Girls stab me. Girls shoot me. I'm beginning to see a disturbin pattern here!" Jayne, growled when Monty dumped him on the bedding. He saw Kaylee and raised up on his elbow to bark at her, "What'd ya go and shoot me for? We was rescuing ya!"

Kaylee glared at Jayne, hollering, "Ya might have said who ya was."

"What!" Jayne rolled to his side. Sneered through his bared teeth as Monty examined him. "Maybe knocked first? That ain't how rescuin works!"

"What took you so long?" Kaylee screeched like a market vendor being accused of cheating. Knotting a fist so tight in Mal's shirt, she liked to rip the holes through the buttons. Mal covered her hand, trying to pry her fingers from his clothing to allow her to grip him instead.

"Gorram idiot didn't know his own place. We've been knocking open doors of every scrap picker for twenty acres. And not one shot me!" Jayne howled again when Monty started laughing.

"Ain't nothing but a scratch. Come and see, I don't think there's even any blood." Monty slapped Jayne in the back of the head.

"She ain't looking at my ass!" Jayne thrashed around on the bed, rubbing his offended part and waved his bloody hand around. "Is so bleeding."

Mal felt Kaylee shudder. Quiet as authority is, Mal said, "Shut the hell up Jayne. Monty, wipe his… wound. Let's move out."

Kaylee shook her head. "We can't just leave him."

Mal brushed his hand through her hair, resting it on the base of her neck. Softer than ever, he promised, "We can. We will."

He just wanted to get her out of there. Her face was white as milk. When her fussing with Jayne wore off, she'd start to feel the cold. He could feel her body shivering beneath his hand spread across her back. Judging by the stiffness in the features, Ty'd been dead for some hours. Kaylee'd been sitting there with a dead man in her lap and a weapon in her hands. If that wasn't scary enough, she'd actually fired it, twice. Intended to keep on firing it, looked like to him.

More'n terrible wrong to see Kaylee vacant eyed but determined to kill to keep a promise. A promise a man had no right to ask of her, not of Kaylee. Mal closed his eyes, squeezed them shut for just a moment. He'd seen too gorram many faces with that expression, trying to warm the dead back to life with promises. Way to fix that was to move out. Move on. That's the way it worked.

Kaylee stepped back. Mal stepped forward. She frowned and told him, "I promised."

Monty was bending over the body, shook his head. "Long gone, girl."

Kaylee pushed Monty aside. "What do you know? You ain't no doctor."

Gripping her shoulder from behind, Mal spun her about. What began as a shout became a sigh, "You done the best ya could. Can't fix everything."

Kaylee struggled against his hold so he feared he'd bruise her. Crying with frustration, she stomped her foot and shouted, "He's just sick! Needs help."

"Look at me. Kaylee, look at me." Mal cupped her face, blocking her view of Monty covering up the body. "Jayne's hurt. We need to get him to the Scrap King's doctor."

"Jayne?" Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut. It was too much – too many things to think on, too many things to feel. Too gorram much of everything! Too much anger gnawing at them, at her and she couldn't fix it. Opening her eyes, looking for tools, she saw Mal. Right there, hands on her face, seriousness on his face. Orders to give, orders to obey….

"Jayne." Mal brushed his thumb along her cheek, rested there, waited for her to focus.

Drawing back from his comfort, she whispered with a brittle catch in her voice, "Jayne's hurt. Whatya standin around for?"

She left the cabin, Jayne's complaining, Monty's snorts of humor, and a dead body. Mal followed her through the door, but she waved him away. He stopped, watched her climb onto the back of the mule and hunch down. Mal stalked back to the cabin and hoisted Jayne across his shoulder. Monty commented on the view of the wound being better that way. They hauled him moaning and bitching from the cabin to the mule.

King Feron's men pulled alongside the cabin, big men on fat wheelers. Their clomping through the cabin didn't cover the sound of them sloshing fuel oil or torching the place. Kaylee didn't flinch, not even when the men made rowdy jokes.

"Not right," Jayne slouched into the passenger seat with a huff. "Girl couldn't hit the broad side of a barn but plugs me in ass comin to her aid." He looked across to Mal, climbing in the back. Mal glared and Jayne shut the hell up.

Monty stuffed himself behind the wheel and revved the engine. Mal shrugged out of his coat and covered Kaylee. Her knees were near her chin, teeth chattering. She didn't look at him, just stared into the dark.

Mal squished in beside her. Dragging her close as he could. Knocking a fist against Monty's shoulder, he commanded the man, "Move out."

The light of the blazing cabin only enhanced the darkness enveloping them.

--oooo—