Of Guilt, Sin and Apples - Part 3

The days passed in relative silence. Jayne avoided communal meals and any other group activities, afraid that if he interacted with the crew, there might be a conflict with the doctor. As a result, he hadn't seen River since the incident up on the catwalk over the main cargo area. He had the distinct feeling that everyone on board thought he'd had something to do with her collapse up there – and possibly more than one of 'em thought he was a child molester, too, he'd bet.

Jayne hated the long, roundabout routes that Mal often insisted on taking between jobs. Mal, Zoe, Wash and Kaylee all had something to do in between planets, and the rest had each other to amuse. He had his guns to attend to. And once they was tended, that was pretty much it. Occasionally he would go down to the engine room and see if Kaylee needed any help with the heavy liftin' and such, but for the most part, Jayne was left to his own devices between destinations.

It was times like this when he wished he'd listened to his ma and got more education – then he might enjoy readin' or some such. Instead, stuck on this go se ship without even vids to watch or nothin' else to do, he was startin' to get a little stir-crazy now that he'd cut himself off from the rest. Still, he figured a strong man would suffer in silence, and that's what he meant to do. No matter how many hours he had to spend in his bunk, staring at the same ugly ceilin'.

It gave'im an awful lot a time to think, just layin' there on his bunk all day, waitin' for his chance to go down to the kitchen and then down to the bay for some weight liftin'. He thought about a lot of things, but mostly about the incidents which had landed him here in his bunk for the rest of the trip to Artemis. The Tam girl. River. She'd sought him out and made him feel lower than a dog about his mistake back on Ariel. He wondered if she knew he'd decided to back out on the Feds, even before they'd arrived. When the doc had been describing what they'd done to her brain, that was when he realized he couldn't do it. That's why he'd hurried'em out early – he'd been hopin' to miss the net the Feds was castin'. Instead, he'd just walked 'em right into it. What choice had he had but to go along, at that point? He sighed.

And then, her comin' down to the cargo bay that night and cryin' on him. That had made him uncomfortable as hell, but – after that, he  thought about her. He felt somehow responsible for her. And he suspected she knew that, that she was feelin' him feel it. It just made him feel worse, and that just made him feel guiltier than ever, 'cause he knew she was feelin' that, too.

He turned over onto his side and stared at the wall opposite for a while. Hell, he thought, I'm the one who needs a damn smoother.

And her brother, the doctor. What the hell was he up to? Jayne didn't know if the doc would intentionally hurt her – hell, he doubted that the doc could, what with his sister bein' a mind reader and all. But what the hell was goin' on? How had he had that medicine already in the syringe that night when River'd gone into convulsions? How had he known?

And finally, his mind zeroed in on the thing he tried most not to think about. River. Why had she come lookin' for him that second time? The first time, he knew it was because his guilt was drivin' her crazy. Well, more crazy, anyway. But the second time, for a minute there, she had been as normal as anybody. They'd almost had a conversation, and she'd told him about how they'd tried to turn her into a weapon of some sort. An assassin, maybe. But mostly, he remembered her eyes.

They reminded him of somethin' that had happened when he was just a kid, back on Croft. He'd grown up on a farm – nothin' fancy, of course, but a workin' farm that could sustain a family if well tended. Everything on the farm had to produce, and that included the bitch sheepdog his daddy'd kept for watchin' the animals. Every few months, she'd be bred, and pups sold or traded. But one year, there'd been a specific pup Jayne'd been taken with – a pup with off-markin's, a runt. His daddy'd been surprised when the pup had lived and grown to be as big than the rest, and when the time to sell the pups had come, that runt had been one of the first to go. But Jayne, against his daddy's advice, had spent some time with that pup, and when it's new owner had come to get it, he'd thought his eleven year old heart was gonna break when it had stared back at him over it's new owner's shoulder as it was taken away.

That's kinda how he felt when River turned those big brown eyes of hers on him. And he didn't like it, at all. Who the hell was she to make him feel like he owed her somethin'? Every time she looked at him, it cut right into him. Made him feel guilty. And weak. And stupid.

He tried to push it from his mind and think about something else.

That night, while everyone slept, he lifted weights maniacally, hoping to exhaust himself utterly. After he worked out, he meant to eat and then to go back to his bunk, break out his whiskey and drink himself into a stupor he didn't mean to wake from for at least twelve hours. They only had four more days to Artemis, then he could get off the boat and get some exercise and fresh air. And new work.

He lifted. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he'd miss Serenity and her crew. Even Mal, for all his occasional wrong-headedness. Zoe for her startling flashes of good humor, not to mention her perfect aim. Kaylee for her sweet nature. Jayne wasn't sure he'd ever known anybody nicer than Kaylee, and he doubted he ever would again. Even Wash, for all the fact that Wash hated him, he weren't such a bad fella. Hell, Zoe married him, so he couldn't be all bad. And the preacher. He'd miss ole' Book. The old guy was good-natured, and not too preachy for all his good-bookin'. Course, he doubted he'd miss Inara much. They'd rarely had much to say to one another, and when they did, it always ended badly – though he'd be the first to admit, she was mighty easy on the eyes. And the Tams. He damn sure wouldn't miss the doc, that was for sure. And River?. Nope, he told himself stauchly. Nothin' there to miss, either. Just a poor, crazy girl who might not be crazy after all.

He shelved the weights and sat up, panting.

Déjà vu. At least he was wearin' his shirt this time.

"You ain't supposed to be down here," he said stiffly, then laid back on the bench and picked up the weights again. "Go away."

He heard nothing and refused to look.

He lifted. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He shelved the weights after just a few reps, panting. He hadn't meant to lift anymore. Instead, he just laid there, afraid to sit up and see if she was still there. If she was, he'd be in danger of gettin' in more trouble. If she wasn't, well he'd feel bad. There weren't no other way to say it.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm and sighed, closing his eyes. "You gone yet?" he asked, still not sitting up.

"No."

His eyes flew open. She was standing at the head of the weight bench, elbow propped on the weight bar, leaning casually over him, her brown eyes fixed on his. Her hair hung a handsbreadth from his face.

He jumped and sat up, putting his back to her. "Damn, girl!" he said, "you sure got a talent for creepin' up, dontcha?"

He didn't turn and look at her, but he heard the smile in her voice when she spoke. "Puppies don't creep," she giggled. "They gambole!"

Jayne cringed, still not looking at her. "That's private," he said. "I bet you got manners enough left not to bring up private stuff, right?"

He looked over his shoulder at her finally, to find her smile fading. "I'm not a puppy," she said. "Not a girl, either – not whole. Not right." She straightened and stared down at her hands for a moment.

Jayne looked down at the floor. Finally, he said, "Well, we all got our short-comin's, don't we? I ain't smart – and Mal's just straight up ugly. So that's just the way it is, alright?"

He stood abruptly. "You gotta go where ever you're goin', girl," he said, still not looking at her. "And I gotta go somewheres else. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

He finally turned and looked at her head-on. "You and me, we can't talk in private no more," he continued. "Ever' time it happens, I get in trouble and the last time, well – you remember. It didn't end too good. You go find Kaylee now, like a good girl and leave ole' Jayne to hisself."

It was the kindest speech he knew how to make, it genuinely was. It made him feel bad, how she just looked at him. Go se, he thought. This just ain't right. What wasn't right about it, he couldn't articulate, but he felt – bad. Real bad.

"But you have to know," she said, her voice plainitive. "About Simon. Simon doesn't mean to hurt me – he doesn't understand how his needles and his good intentions and his fear - " she broke off. "He's afraid," she finally said.

She had Jayne's full attention, now. Though he'd done his best to send her away, she'd touched on what had eaten on his mind these last days. He'd feared Simon was hurting her, maybe unintentionally.

"Why'd he have that medicine all ready for you when you got sick, then, huh?" he asked abruptly, his eyes intent on hers.

She smiled, wistfully. "Needles are my daily bread. Would my brother deny me that which I need to survive?"

"I don't trust'im," Jayne said.

River smiled gently. "You can trust the sun to rise, can't you?" she asked. "You can trust the tide to come in. Trust in that."

Jayne shook his head. Once again, her words, her code, made no sense to him. All he knew was, he had to get off this boat soon – as soon as it touched dirt, he had to grab his stuff and vacate. He felt like he had ants under his skin, he was so stressful.

He turned to walk away, and before he got more than a few steps, she stopped him with her hand on his arm. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the floor, wanting to shake her hand off him and walk away, but he lacked the will to hurt her feelings. Him, Jayne Cobb – didn't want to hurt a girl's feelings For a second, the thought almost made him hate her – but he still didn't pull away. They stood for a long moment, saying nothing, while he studied her hand on his arm – took in how small it was, how pale. How it held him back without force.

And that was when Mal's voice cut into the gloom of the half-light that burned during Serenity's night cycle.

"Jayne," he said, "you better have a damn good explanation for why you're down here with her," he said from the middle of the grated stairs that led from both sides of Serenity's outer areas into the main cargo bay. "And when I say 'damn good reason'," Mal continued, "I mean 'damn near miraculous'."

Jayne put his hand over River's, just to remove it from his arm, but he hesitated, looking down at her.

:no fighting:

:it'll be alright:

Jayne blinked. What the gorram hell?

Gently, he lifted her hand from his arm and turned back to Mal, who was descending the stairs with the fire and brimstone look of a daddy whose little girl had been caught in the hayloft.

Jayne said nothing until Mal was face to face with him, but he managed to subtly position himself between Mal and River.

Looking Mal in the eye, he said – "There ain't nothin' goin' on, Mal. I was down here and she just wandered in, that's all."

Jayne's protective positioning wasn't lost on Mal. "Well," he said sarcastically, "it really ain't her well-bein' you need to worry about right now, if you get my drift, Jayne."

River surprised them both. "Jayne means to take his stuff and vacate as soon as this boat hits dirt!" she exclaimed.

Both of them turned to look at her, Jayne's expression incredulous.

Mal looked from River to Jayne. "Really?" he said.

Jayne shook his head. "I never said no such thing," he said, strangely not angry that she was spewing his private thoughts all over the place, " but I was thinkin' it. It's prob'ly time for me to just move on, dontcha think?"

River pushed her way between them. "Don't let him go, captain," she said, all seriousness. "He needs a puppy, that's all."

Mal looked down at her, completely at a loss. "Little girl," he finally said, ruefully "I got no idea what you're sayin'."

River smiled. "Jayne does," she said.

Jayne just shook his head and looked Mal right in the eye. "No," he said, "I don't. I got no ruttin' idea." He glanced down at River, then looked back at Mal. "You see what I'm dealin' with, here?" he asked. "She finds me, I don't find her. She thinks we're communicatin' – and I got no idea what's goin' on." Jayne shifted from foot to foot, feeling guiltier than ever. "And I don't know why the damn girl keeps followin' me around when all I want is to be left alone!" he finally exploded.

River frowned up at Jayne fiercely, then turned to the stairs.

Jayne and Mal looked up at the sound of shoes clattering down the stairs to find Simon on the approach.

River made a striking picture standing between the two tall men in the half-lit cargo bay. She was so small compared to the two of them. Half a step closer to Jayne than to Mal, her body language spoke volumes. Simon had seen her like this before, but only when he'd been standing where Jayne was standing now, and their father had been standing in Mal's place. This was a family argument – and River was on Jayne's side. And he was being left out of it.

He tried to control the anger that rose in his throat at the picture of River and Jayne standing there together. He'd told River over and over that she mustn't seek Jayne out, that she was to leave him alone and avoid him as much as possible. He'd seen that Jayne had made himself scarce, and had felt a grim, if somewhat convoluted, satisfaction in the knowledge that Jayne's job meant more to him than anything to do with the 'moonbrained' River.

River looked at Simon and smiled. "More family than ever before," she commented, glancing at Mal, then sliding her eyes back to Simon.

Simon stopped a half meter away, somehow not daring to reach into that cage of flesh and drag his sister from between the two men.

"River," he said calmly. "I've told you, you need to stay in our quarters at night I was worried about you."

River kept smiling. "Yes," she said, "you worry. You fear for the broken girl, but your fear isn't falling on the right eyes, Simon."

Simon gestured. "Come on, River," he said. "We're going back to our quarters."

Her smile faded. "The same ceiling," she said. "The same wall. Big mind trapped in a metal box, the universe unfolding inside," she said. "I can't go back there."

Simon hesitated, then stepped closer, pushed his way into the small circle and took River's elbow in his hand. Tugging gently, he pulled her with him, one step, then two.

She looked over her shoulder at Jayne. Finally, Jayne looked back at her, and what he saw made him grind his teeth. Big brown, pleading eyes, eyes that said – how can you let him take me away?

Despite himself, even Mal was affected. "Listen, doc," he said, "maybe Inara's got some books or vids or somethin' for River to do down in her shuttle. Why don't y'all go down there in the morning and ask her? Maybe the kid's just bored – hell, we're all bored, and we ain't geniuses."

Simon looked at him gratefully. "We'll do that, captain," he said, "if you think Inara wouldn't mind." He turned to River. "You see, we'll find something to do in the morning. Let's go get some sleep."

Jayne hated the way Simon tugged at River, hated the way she resisted him as much as she could without actually fighting him.

Then she spoke. "But Jayne has a question for you , Simon," she said. "Before this boat hits dirt."

Simon looked over his shoulder at Jayne who was standing there in the semi-darkness with his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. Jayne, who hadn't said a single word since Simon had come down to get River.

Simon sighed as he turned to face Jayne full-on. "Yes, Jayne?" he said. "Do you have a question for me?"

Jayne nearly trembled with the effort it was takin' not to slap the superiority off the younger man's face. "Yeah," he growled, " I gotta question." He stepped closer to Simon, then stopped as Mal made to step between them. "The other night, when she got sick, how'd you know to have that medicine readied up 'fore it ever happened?"

Simon drew back, startled. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me. How'd you know she was gonna get sick?"

Simon looked at Mal, who crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged. "It's a reasonable question, doc," he said. "How did you know?"

Simon rubbed a finger over one eyebrow, obviously not sure whether to be incredulous or irritated. Then he looked up at Jayne. "Earlier, I had given River an experimental drug called Scriraftin. It's a selective synaptic inhibitor – it slows down specific portions of the brain. It can have very serious side effects, so I had a syringe of Clositeth on hand to reverse it's effects should she become too unstable."

Jayne's fists clenched harder. "So, you give'er somethin' that made'er sick, is that what you're tryin' to say?" he said. "And then you let everybody on this boat think I done somethin' to her."

Jayne regretted that he hadn't pounded the younger man back in the infirmary when he'd had the chance and a good reason. And yet, when Simon's eyes met Jayne's, for the first time Jayne saw something in them that he could identify with. As Simon spoke, Jayne's hands slowly unclenched, but his jaw stayed tight.

"I was trying to slow her brain down enough to give her a chance to – a few minutes to think like a normal person. The seizures were not considered a grave risk – she was supposed to stay in our quarters, where it was quiet, and nothing could upset her, or cause her brain to begin firing at synapses that were... dampened." Simon shook his head. "Instead, she snuck out while I was helping Reverend Book get some of his things out of storage. The next thing I knew, you were screaming into the com and I couldn't find her. I panicked."

Jayne looked down at Simon, still feeling a sizable urge to cause him pain. "Did it ever occur to you, in all your big thinkin', that makin' her sane for a few minutes at a time could just be mean?" His voice lowered. "Messin' around with her brain with no damn idea what you're doin' makes you just as bad as those bastards you took 'er from. Maybe you oughta consider that when you're shootin' her full o'experimental drugs."

Simon looked at Mal increduously, who shrugged. "It might not be a all bad idea, doc," he said mildly. Then, glancing at Jayne, he added dryly, "Despite where it come from."

After a moment, Simon nodded, then turned to River, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

She smiled sadly at Simon, an expression he was beginning to recognize as her defeated smile. An expression he'd never seen on her face until he'd gotten her back from the Academy, the expression that cut into him the most deeply.

She touched his face, letting the tips of her fingers just brush his cheek and lie there. "Simon," she said gently. "There are many words, and many intentions, many ways to see them. But why is simple." Her glance cut quickly to Jayne and then back. "He hears clearly and knows what he does not understand. He accepts that the unquantifiable is unquantifiable."

Jayne looked over at Mal. "You got any idea what the hell that means?" he asked.

Mal shook his head. "No ruttin' idea," he admitted. "But I think she might mean it's cause you don't second guess her."

Jayne snorted. "I don't second guess her cause I ain't got no idea what the hell she's talkin' about," he said.

Simon glanced at Jayne, while his hand covered River's. "Maybe that's the point," he said. "I don't know." Simon sighed. Looking into River's eyes, he said, "You know I want what's best for you, right?"

She smiled back. "Flowers bloom every spring, Simon," she said. "Even when the weather is uncertain."

"Are you ready to go to bed, now?" he asked her with a bemused smile.

She smiled and turned with him as he began to lead her toward the stairs. Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at Jayne, then the captain. "Good night, captain," she said. Then she turned her eyes back to Jayne for a long moment, saying nothing before she turned with Simon and walked away.

When they were gone, Jayne breathed a sigh of relief, not ashamed for Mal to see him do it.

"I swear, Mal, I don't know what the hell is goin' on," he said. "Why's that kid fixatin' on me?" Jayne turned genuinely confused eyes to his captain.

Mal just looked at him for a moment, then said – "Well, it could be because you're the only one that don't like the two of 'em," he said. Then he smiled. "Course, maybe it's simpler even than that. Maybe she's got a crush on ya, Jayne."

"That ain't it," Jayne said quickly.

Mal's eyes narrowed on him. "How do you know that ain't it?" he asked. "You take a poll or somethin?"

Jayne shook his head and walked back to the weight bench, sitting on it with a huff. "Hell, Mal," he said, "it's probly what you said in the first place – stupid kid thinks I hate'em and she wants to be on my good side." He shook his head. "Wish she'd give up, already – I feel like ruttin' hell."

Mal strolled over to him, a hard smile on his face. "Guilt getting' you down, Jayne?" he asked mean-spiritedly.

Jayne stared at his boots. "No," he said belligerantly. "She told me to get over it."

Mal stopped smiling. "You mean she knows," he said.

Jayne shrugged. "You can't keep nothin' from 'er, Mal," he said. "She's a mind-reader, ain't she?"

Mal was incredulous. "And she just told you straight out to get over it?"

Jayne shrugged uncomfortably. "No.. she said she wanted me to forgive myself – that she was burnin' up from the inside. Hell, I don't know!"

"And from that, you knew she was tellin' you to get over it?"

Jayne looked up, a tortured look in his eye. "Yeah, Mal. Okay. It took a few minutes, but I got it, you know? Is that why she won't leave me alone?"

Mal shook his head, then sat on a crate facing Jayne. "Well, Jayne," he said, "I gotta tell ya – you damn sure understand what she's sayin' a sight more than I do - that's for sure if you got that one. Hell, maybe she really does have a little school girl crush on ya – she is that age and all." He shrugged.

Jayne squirmed uncomfortably. "Damn, Mal," he said. "You're just mean."

Mal stared at him for a moment longer, then narrowed his eyes. "No, Jayne," he said, "that ain't mean. But let me tell you what the shepherd told me once. If you take advantage of that girl, you will go to the special hell. And, Jayne?" Mal stood to make his point. "You'll be relieved to get there by the time I'm done with you, if you take my meanin'?"

Jayne nodded, not looking up. "Yeah, Mal," he said, "I understand."

Mal shrugged. "Then I reckon there ain't no reason to go avoidin' all of us for the rest of the trip," he said. "Kaylee's been worried about you, she thinks you're mad at her or somethin', so.. fix that problem, would ya?"

Jayne nodded again, feeling utterly defeated. "Yeah, I'll take care of it," he said tonelessly.

Mal paused as he was walking away and looked back at Jayne. "Aw, c'mon, Jayne," he said teasingly, a humorous glint in his eye. "There's worse things than a little girl havin' a crush on ya, right?"

Jayne grimaced and buried his head in his hands. "Not really," he groaned, knowing he wasn't never gonna hear the end of this.

Mal grinned and disappeared into the near dark.

12