They had given Simon a mild sedative to calm him down and he lay asleep across a sofa, his head buried in Kaylee's lap as she stroked his hair. It had taken a lot to knock him out, with Jayne, Wash and Mal all having to hold him down whilst the Shepherd administered the dose. They were all shocked at the strength with which Simon fought them but grief does funny things to people, makes them act as they wouldn't normally.

Now they were all sat around the Kitchen table, deathly quiet, nobody saying a word. The Shepherd was reading his Bible but remaining quiet, should he read the scripture aloud, Mal would probably deck him, shepherd or not. Jayne got up and found a bottle of piss poor whiskey, more water than anything else but enough alcohol to numb out certain emotions. Pulling out the cork with his teeth he drank straight from the bottle and offered it to Zoë, who accepted. The bottle was passed around the table with all taking from it, even Book, as though the brown liquid would make everything better. Inara poured a small amount into the cleanest tea cup she could find and offered it to Kaylee and watched as the sweet little face grimaced as the burning liquid went down.

Mal stood up and ran his hands through his hair. "I do believe it's time we all retreated to our bunks, try and sleep, though I accept that this may be a might difficult given the circumstances." he said in an authoritative tone, making it more of an order than a suggestion. "Jayne, you go on and carry the doctor to his bunk. I'll start cleaning up."

Jayne stood up and started to do as he was told, until the timid voice of the mechanic piped up. "'Scuse me c'ptn but do you think it's wise for Simon to be put in his own bunk? He shared that space with River - when he wakes up and remembers he might flip out again."

"She's got a point, Sir" Zoë pitched in. "Don't want another display from him. He might hurt himself this time."

"And what do you suggest we do with him, Kaylee?" Mal asked wearily. It had been a long night and he was still soaked in the girl's blood. He just wanted to clean the blood off Serenity and himself and lose himself in sleep for a short while.

"Put him in my bunk, I'll sleep in my hammock in the engine room. Be no trouble - I just want him to be OK." She looked down at Simon's unconscious face with such love that it made Jayne's heart ache a little.

"Jayne, you heard what she said. Everyone else to your bunks. We'll talk tomorrow about what is to occur. Dong ma?"

Doing as the captain said, Jayne took the doctor to Kaylee's bunk and deposited him there. On his way to his bunk, he pulled the letter from his back pocket and braced himself for what was inside.

Having read the letter a few times over, Jayne found himself in the infirmary staring at River's lifeless, drained body. He couldn't remember ever feeling this bad about somebody dying. Even his own daddy, who was a mean son of a bitch even when sober, didn't merit this feeling of loss. There was a numb, empty feeling in Jayne's chest that he'd only ever felt once before, when his beloved mother had told him that she was ashamed of him and that he was no longer a son of hers. They'd begun making up, Jayne forwarded credits when he could but every time he thought of that exchange between them, this feeling came to him. It finally dawned on him what it was, this feeling that consumed him and made him feel like shit. It was utter devastation.

With River's words swimming around in his head, he knew what he had to do. He had been down to River's bunk and found the lovely pink and white dress that she wore from time to time with the cream crocheted waistcoat. He sewed up her wrists as best he could and took a washcloth to her, erasing the sticky dried on blood from all over her body. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he washed her hair in a basin of warm water, making sure all the blood was out. What was it about River that made him so sad? She was just a kid but he'd seen what the people in this crap heel 'verse did to children. But there was something about this that wasn't right.

After dressing her and combing her hair, he laid her out on the stretcher, the one corner of the infirmary not covered in her blood and set to work cleaning up all the equipment. He remembered when his daddy was killed in a bar brawl - he was a total drunk by this point - and how his mama had cleaned him up ready for the funeral. He remembered how she had washed him through her tears, dressed the man who had beat her consistently for nigh on twenty years and how he and his sister Matty had stood and watched, both secretly relived that he was gone and couldn't beat on them anymore. He felt like his mother at that point, grieving over something he'd never had.

He left the infirmary, switched out the light and retreated to his bunk, exhausted, with fresh tears welling up in his eyes. And that's when it dawned on him. He loved her - he loved the moon brained child and had never realised it until now, until it was too late.