Author's Note: If you are the type of person who believed the story was powerful enough as was, then by al means, turn back now and neglect that you saw continuing chapters. It is best to remember something in its best light. If you are like me, however, and watch the sequel even when you think (or know) it can't possibly do the original justice but you simply love the characters so, and you need to know what happened… then read on.

Also, it was brought to my attention that Pluto is a wasteland with unbreatheable gasses. We have colonized it, just go with it.

disclaimer: All Firefly characters are property of Joss Whedon.

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It was only by pure miracle that River Tam made it through the night. The morning sun (if you could even call it that) poked its head over the horizon and glared against the snow. Mal had made Jayne stay awake all night but let River sleep for few hour intervals. She was still quick with fever and her delusions had gotten worse. At one point she'd been married to Zoe and was demanding her ring back. Jayne held her all night, reluctantly, but Mal had no available lap space for her to go on and she couldn't be in the snow. They were all exhausted, hungry and freezing. If it hadn't been for the small fire and each other's body heat, none of them would have survived at all.

"I gotta sleep," Jayne pleaded. "Can't even see straight no more. Shoulder's killin me. This girl's hot and heavy."

"Jayne!" River gasped. "Let go!" She slapped him, hard, then clawed at his face. He smacked her back and she was quiet again. She'd been swinging at him all damn night and he'd just about had enough. If it weren't for the fact she was very close to death he would've shoved her into the snow and let her freeze.

"Mal?" he said softly, noticing the captain wasn't paying him any mind. Mal's head snapped up, his eyes bloodshot.

"Ung?"

"The hell are we gonna do?"

Mal forced his eyes to stay open, but yawned loudly. "What else can we do? We gotta start moving."

"I can't…" Jayne whimpered. "I'm exhausted. I can't carry her, and she sure as shit can't walk. Can't handle both of you at once."

"You got a better idea, Jayne? Cuz I'd sure love to hear it."

In fact, he did not have any better ideas. River had no shoes, no decent clothes, and no comprehension of how sick she was. Mal couldn't walk on his own, and Jayne only had the one arm to carry one of them with. They were all pretty much screwed.

"Think I got trench foot," Mal said unhappily, poking at his leg. Pus oozed from his trousers.

"Shiny," Jayne moaned. "I don't want to die out here. I'd rather have gone down in flames with the rest of 'em." He shifted River on his lap. One of his legs had gone to sleep pretty bad. Still, he couldn't put her down. She was sweating and shivering at the same time. "She ain't gonna make it," Jayne decided. "Let's just leave her."

"Are you outta your damn mind?" Mal snapped. "We ain't just gonna leave her here!"

"Why the hell not! Whether she dies alone or dies with us, she's a goner, Mal! We all are!"

"She ain't staying behind and that's all I'm gonna say on that!"

"You ain't making the orders no more, Mal. In case you hadn't noticed, you ain't got a ship to be captain of. You ain't got no crew."

"I got you, don't I?"

"Not for long," Jayne mumbled.

"Look," Mal said bluntly, "I can't do this without you. I need your help, and I ain't leaving her here. If it were you, I wouldn't leave you either. That's just the way I roll."

"Well it ain't the way I roll."

"Well learn a new way. Soon as we get outta here, I swear you can abandon us and I won't say a damn word about it. You try and leave us here so help me, Jayne, I will hunt you down."

Jayne mulled it over a bit. The likelihood of Mal being able to survive without him was slim, so he could in all fairness run for it. But there was a part of him that wouldn't let him leave. He'd watched his ship go down, seen three people he called friend dead. Abandoning Mal and River would be too inhumane. So with a sigh and a grunt, he got to his feet (shakily, since one leg was asleep something awful) and placed River gently on the steps. Mal looked up at him, glaring.

"You need a cast," Jayne said blankly. "I'll go find some wood, or something. You just watch over her. She dies while I'm gone, I'm gonna be super pissed." He started to go, then turned back. "Soon as we're out of here, Mal. I'm gone."

"Fine," Mal agreed. "First we gotta get out."

Jayne tromped off through the snow, weary and close to tears. Mal slid up beside River, who made a feeble attempt at an attack.

"Hate you," she murmured. "Hands of blue, take River's soul. River's soul is on ice, so cold. So cold." She shivered as though to prove her point.

Jayne came back with a plank and some copper wires. "Ain't exactly Dr. Tam's medical facilities, but we make do." Working as gently and efficiently as he could, Jayne wrapped the makeshift cast around Mal's leg. Mal was close to screaming the whole time. The copper cut into his skin and was probably making things worse, but at least the bone would be set straighter. "Found something little lady Tam might be interested in," Jayne added once Mal's leg had been set. He pointed over his shoulder. "Over there's a stockpile of fabric stuff, most likely clothes or whatnot. Figure we can bunch her up in something."

"Let's get moving," Mal decided, getting up onto his leg. Hurt like hell for sure, but dying out here seemed less appealing than walking on a broken leg. He and Jayne raided the clothing pile (Kaylee's things, from the looks of it. There were sad remains of the cupcake dress that just about broke Jayne's heart). Under the pile was the top half of a clothes trunk, which was quickly and cleverly transformed into a sled in which to pull River in. They dressed themselves in a few more layers (some of it fit better than other things) then piled River under a heap of clothes. She curled up and went to sleep, her face sweaty and red.

"You take a look at the cut on her stomach at all?" Mal asked as they each grabbed an end of the torn cloth ties to the trunk and started to pull.

"Tried to," Jayne told him, "but she weren't wearing nothing underneath her dress, so I didn't."

Mal rolled his eyes. "You seen her naked before, Jayne. This might kill her if it gets outta hand."

"Mmm, you're right," Jayne agreed. "And if it does get outta hand, what do you suppose we should do about it?"

Mal frowned at Jayne's smartass yet oh so accurate observation. If River's cut got terribly infected they couldn't do much about it, nor could they do anything to prevent the infection to begin with.

Pulling her through the snow was hard, exhausting and slow. Seemed like they only moved a few feet every half hour. They were making better progress than they could have imagined, but in the snow everything looks very much the same. All that changed was which part of Serenity they passed.

"Jayne!" River yelled. "Jayne!"

"What?" he snapped.

"I can't have your baby. I'm sorry. I can't conceive. They killed her innards. They killed her womanness."

"Ain't that too bad for me," he grunted, glowering to himself. She sure had been having a lot of delusions about him and he didn't care for it.

At quarter after three, standard Pluto time, Mal collapsed. One second he was pulling, the next he fell over into the snow, soundless. Jayne dropped his end of the pulling rope and stared at his former captain, dumbfounded. "Mal?" he said cautiously. There was no reply. "Shit!" he yelled, getting to his knees. "Mal, wake up!" The man was still breathing, which was a plus, but he was not awake, which wasn't. "Hell, Mal, don't do this to me." He tried slapping him a bit, but it didn't help. The stress had been too much and Mal's body had just shut down. "The hell am I gonna do now?" Jayne yelled angrily. Mal sure had been right, they weren't any good without him. "River," he barked, "move over." She didn't budge, because she didn't comprehend he was talking to her. "I said move it, moon brain!" He grabbed her waist and shoved her over, clearing a small space for Mal in the trunk lid. Once both captain and pilot had been stuffed into the small space together, Jayne grabbed the pulling ropes and gave them a mighty heave. Using only one arm, they went nowhere. "Come! On!" he yelled, tugging fiercely. The sled budged once, then again, then slowly started moving smoothly. They were gaining momentum, which would be real helpful. As a matter of fact, they were coming up to a ravine. Pulling as hard as exhaustion and handicap would allow, Jayne ran at top speed toward the edge. As they neared, though, he found it was quite a bit steeper than he'd first imagined. Too late now. They were moving faster and faster. Right before the edge Jayne jumped into the trunk, landing right on River although she couldn't bother to care. They flew down the valley's edge, moving fast and carelessly. There was no way to steer so Jayne only hoped for the best. For at least fifteen minutes they went down, down, down into the valley. They had long since passed the last bits of the former ship. All that lay before them was snow. And something else, though it was blurry from on the sled. Something lie in wait at the bottom of the hill. Jayne squinted to see, but the snow flew in his eyes and blocked his vision. Well, they'd find out what it was sooner or later. The craft came to a slow, eventual stop. Jayne got a good look at what had been waiting for them down the hill.

People.

People with weapons, people with dark eyes looking angrily at Jayne, Mal and River. The sled slid to a halt fifty feet away from the gathering of people. Jayne stayed where he was and waited as they walked over to him. It seemed ironically unfair that this was how they should die. A group of spear carrying men surrounded Jayne and his crew. They looked at him then one another. For once, Jayne kept silent.

A large man stepped forth. He wore a thick parka lined with fur and woolen pants. His boots made deep impressions in the snow. "You need help?" he asked Jayne in a deep, soothing voice.

That was when Jayne, finally, passed out.

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Immediately upon awakening, Mal decided he was dead. The last thing he remembered was being cold and exhausted. Everything had gone hazy, then woozy, then black. But now it was warm, it was soft and comforting. There was no way in hell this was reality.

When he opened his eyes he found himself in something that must have been a hospital. There were young women everywhere dressed all in white and speaking in hushed tones. Jayne was in the bed at his feet, still knocked out. Where was River?

"Hey," he called, which barely rose above a mutter. One of the women knelt beside his cot.

"Yes?" she whispered sweetly.

"Where… the girl?"

"She is gone," she told him simply.

Mal's eyes widened, disbelieving. This wasn't right. "Gone?" he repeated.

"To the Elder. He has stronger medicine, he can help her. We shall pray."

Mal sighed with great relief. "Sure," he agreed. That had been the scariest four seconds of his life. Despite himself, he'd grown quite attached to that little crazy.

"You are the delivery ship?" the woman asked him. He nodded. "We saw your ship fall. My son told me it looked like God falling to his knees. We did not think anyone had survived. I am so sorry."

"Half of 'em didn't," he told her, his emotions threatening to take over. She took his hand in hers, and it was surprisingly warm.

"Shit, Mal!" Jayne suddenly screamed, sitting up. He looked around the room, obviously confused. "Mal?"

"Here," Mal called, glad he was awake.

Jayne turned around to look at him. He had no shirt on, and Mal could see the dark purple bruising of his overworked shoulder. It was in a sling at least. "You okay?" he asked first, then immediately followed with "Where the hell are we?"

"You tell me," Mal said, trying to prop himself up. "Pretty damn sure I blacked out sometime."

"You did," Jayne agreed. "Pulled you down this hill, there were people waiting for me. Can't think of much else after that. Thanks for making me pull both your sorry asses, by the way." He took a quick look around the room. "Oh, hell, where's crazy girl?"

"She is gone," the nurse said simply.

"Hell!"

"Wish you wouldn't say it like that," Mal said to the girl calmly. "She ain't gone gone, she's somewhere else getting fixed."

"Oh, good." Jayne took a breath to calm himself, then realized Mal was still watching him. With renewed interest, to boot. "Be a waste of my time pulling you both if she weren't even gonna make it!" he snapped.

"Thank you, Jayne," Mal said sincerely. "For doing that."

"Yeah, well…" he said awkwardly, "I'm gone, don't forget."

"I didn't."

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Four months passed. They were longer than they felt, and all of them were cold. River was mostly recovered by the end of them, which made Mal ridiculously happy. He felt a little foolish at how pleased he was about it, but there it was. She'd had double pneumonia, an infected cut, second degree burns (which had also infected) and an eight percent chance at recovery. But she had recovered, amazingly quickly and fully. Now all that was left of her sickness was pink scar tissue running down her left thigh, a slight chest cold and a light scar on her stomach.

Jayne was up and about the day after they'd been taken in, so he'd spent a lot of time doing manual labor to keep himself from going insane. After three weeks he decided he'd had enough of this place. He was well enough to go, so the nomadic people had arranged him transport to the city where Serenity had originally been headed. He and Mal had shared a brief goodbye, which went as follows:

"See ya."

Mal waved. "Bye."

The interaction between River and Jayne had been only slightly more heartfelt.

"Later, crazy girl."

"Jayne should not go. He belongs here."

"Well he is goin. Bye."

And that had been that. Mal and River were moved into the same tent where they spent much of their time talking about the crew they'd lost, Jayne included. River missed her brother terribly, screaming and hitting things when she thought about him. It was becoming clear to Mal that, with Simon gone, he was now this girl's caretaker. He'd never had a sister before, especially not a crazy one and it scared him to death. Most of the time he managed to restrain her enough for them to sedate her. Luckily for Mal, River and Jayne, these Nomads had more technology and medicine than the forefathers of Earth That Was ever had.

After the four months ended, Mal and River bunched themselves onto a dogsled and were escorted into the only city Pluto had to offer, called simply The City. It was a decent looking town, much like many Mal had been to. Only difference with this one was it was dark and covered with snow.

Mal thanked his hosts, then stepped onto the streets and realized just how alone and screwed he and River were. They had no money, no food and no ship. "What shall we do now?" Mal asked her, hoping her psychic insight might come in handy.

"You said we might bury Simon," she said softly.

Mal hung his head. "Beibei, if the dogs ain't got him, nature sure did. We can't go back out there, we got no-"

"I want!" she screamed, hitting him. "I want! I want! Simon's dead!"

"Hey!" he yelled. "Hush it, alright? We can't go out there."

"Then we pray for him."

"Huh?"

River got on her knees, in the middle of the road, and mumbled a prayer. "Pray," she beseeched him.

"I ain't prayin, and I sure ain't doing it in the middle of the damn road. Get up."

"Now!" she screeched. "Our father in Heaven, we ask you guide Simon, Kaylee, and Zoe towards you." She gave Mal a look, which both demanded and pleaded.

Feeling a damn fool and a little uneasy, he got on his knees. "What do I say?"

"Pray."

"Okay, pray. Uh, God, I don't talk much to you and with good reason, but this girl wants me to so I will so she'll stop yellin. Uh… keep all them up there safe, take care of 'em cuz I-" He choked on his words, and was surprised to do it. "Cuz I couldn't."

"Amen," she whispered.

"Yeah," Mal agreed. "Can we go now?"

She nodded. "God heard."

"Well I'm the happiest man alive, then," he muttered sarcastically. He got quickly to his feet, nodded apologetically to the people watching them with wary eyes, and yanked River up as well. "We need to get us some money or we're gonna be here a while. Any plans?"

"River will not be a prostitute."

"No," he agreed quickly, "she will not." But there had to be something a crazy girl and a gimp leg could do. His leg hadn't healed properly because it'd been set so badly, so he walked with a slight limp and couldn't stand for more than a few hours at a time.

"Dock," River said out of nowhere.

"Doc? Like Simon?"

"No," she shook her head, staring straight ahead. Her finger raised, pointing out something far in the distance. It looked like an aircraft station.

Mal contemplated. "What?" he asked finally.

"Work," she said simply.

"Work," he repeated. "Work at the aircraft station. Okay then." He didn't have a better plan, so with a shrug and limp, he and River wove their way through the streets toward the dock. It was slow moving, what with the limping and the cold and the thick, fur lined coats and pants they had been given by the Nomads.

There was a man directing traffic at the main gate. He looked weary and in dire need of relief from his post. His eyes had gotten the look about him where he would refuse to be helpful if asked and no longer wanted to deal directly with the public. Mal walked right up to him. These were the kind of people he liked best- most difficult and least helpful.

"Mornin'," Mal said cordially.

"Afternoon," the man droned. "Loading to the left, unloading to the right, pilots through there." He waved carelessly at a large steel door behind him.

"Ain't none of the above," Mal informed him cheerily.

"Passengers at the end of the walkway, to your left."

"Nope."

"Civilians are not supposed to be on the property without just cause or valid identification."

"Ain't one of those neither," he smiled.

The man sighed heavily. "What do you want, then?"

"Name's Malcolm Reynolds, this here's my pilot River Tam. We're looking for work."

The man did his best not to laugh in Mal's face. "There are to cargo ships that run from this station, and we have pilots for both. Any other craft or freight has supplied their own pilots. If you're looking for manual labor, you wanna talk to Eddie. Through the doors." He waved again at the steel door behind him.

"Thanks," Mal said, walking past the traffic controller and toward the heavy looking door. Manual labor? he asked himself. You can't do air station labor, not with your newfound injury. And this here girl can't stay still more'n a few minutes. But they didn't have a choice, did they? "Think you can push crates?" Mal asked River seriously.

"River won't," she informed him promptly. "She will be stuck on detail."

"Detail, huh? Not too bad, I guess. What about Mal?"

"Mal will be scrapping parts in the junkyard."

"Wonderful," he said, not meaning it at all. "Least it's only for a while."

"How long?"

"Until we can afford to get outta here."

"Go where?"

He thought about that a moment. "Where would River like to go?"

"Home."

Home? Home had exploded, hadn't it? "You mean to your parents?" She nodded. "Okay then, beibei," he said, touching her cheek lightly. "We get enough money to take you home."