Chapter Text
Jayne was in hell. The God that Shepherd Book was on about was punishing him; it was the only possible reason for him to be in this situation. That, and the fact that Mal was a ruttin' idiot. Yeah, that helped. Just a simple job, he'd said, So easy that even you and the doctor should be able to handle it, meanwhile he an' Zoe were off in some other corner of the 'Verse doing the job that they'd expected to go bad. Well, this hadn't been a simple job, it had been an ambush. Mal had obviously pissed someone off, and that someone was even more pissed to find Simon and Jayne instead of the man he'd been looking for.
So Jayne took a bullet to the shoulder- nothing bad, but it sure hurt like hell- and the shuttle took a shot bad enough that they were dead in the water, floating aimlessly through space. Well, not quite aimlessly. Further proof that God hated Jayne, they were drifting out towards Reaver territory. Which meant that he couldn't try to contact Serenity. It would've garnered unwanted attention. He was pacing around the limited space of the shuttle, muttering angrily under his breath, twitchy with fear and aggravation. Of all the people to be in this situation with, it just had ta be the ruttin' doctor. Sure, he could've patched up Jayne's shoulder (if Jayne had let him, which he didn't), but Jayne was starting to think that he'd prefer the company of the Reavers themselves. Ever since the Lassiter job, he'd felt nervous and jittery around Simon, always expecting some kind of retribution that never came. It was the anticipation that was the worst part.
He growled in frustration, slamming his fists down on the busted nav system, then swearing at the pain that ran through his hands as a result.
Why he hadn't seen this coming Simon wasn't sure. From the moment River had been sent to her 'special school' things had gone downhill, and only got worst once he hit the bottom. The first piece of luck he'd had was rescuing River and Mal accepting them onboard Serenity, but even relationships with his sister and Serenity's crew were often strained at best. Tensions were bad, but out in the black, it just served to make them all colder- including himself.
Before Serenity, before Ariel if he were truthful with himself, Simon would have fussed over Jayne and done his utmost to heal the man and find him pain relief. But today was today, and for all he could care Jayne Cobb could bleed away. The wound wasn't life-threatening, and as far as Simon was concerned, the pain could act where guilt obviously wouldn't, making Jayne hurt just that little bit, even if it wasn't a fitting retribution for what he put them through- what he put River through, Simon corrected mentally, not liking his slip. The man's aggressiveness, forced confrontations and put-downs had aggravated and annoyed Simon, but it was his betrayal of them, the nearness that Simon come to having his sister snatched from him and the trauma Jayne put her through that had tipped his opinion of the man, moving Jayne from 'dislike but be civil' to 'loathe despite attraction'. Jayne's agitation, his fear, should have unnerved Simon, but in a sadistic manner it pleased him, made him feel good to see Jayne so thrown and scared. The closeness of the shuttle to Reaver space should have terrified Simon, but he was too busy ignoring it all, preferring to see the outcome on Jayne.
"I daresay they'll find us before we run out of oxygen or you bleed to death." Simon's hands were clasped behind him. "Let's just hope Serenity gets the message, not the Reavers."
Leave it to Simon to always hafta be talking, no matter what the situation. He was already on-edge and didn't need to be reminded of just how precarious their position was. "Damn it, can't you learn ta keep that ruttin' mouth a yers shut? I know how much you love baitin' me, but as you so intelligently noted, we ain't got a whole lotta air. Best ta stay quiet."
He knew that Simon had said that on purpose. It wasn't exactly a secret that about the only things Jayne feared in this whole 'Verse were Reavers, and even Jayne was smart enough to figure out that the comment had been made specifically to get under his skin. Yup, he thought, This is hell. Especially considering that he was almost out of ammo. Well, if the Reavers did hit them, he'd take out as many as he could and save the last bullet for himself. Fuck the mouthy doctor. He could find his own way out.
Simon raised an eyebrow, noting the tenseness with a slight satisfied smirk. So he'd enjoyed baiting Jayne; he was only surprised the man had actually had the smarts enough to notice. "Bad enough to die here with you as it is, I for one don't plan to go out quietly."
Simon was unaware that he was coming across prissy and arrogant, but had he been, he would have felt all the better. "I suppose it's just as well we can't use that; don't want to attract unwelcome attention." He gestured to the broken unit.
Jayne clenched his fists and wheeled around at the man who was smirking at him infuriatingly. "Fuck, for the last time, are you gonna shut that pretty mouth 'a yers or am I gonna hafta gag you?" Or knock you out, or just kill you- save the Reavers the trouble, not that you deserve it. He didn't voice those last thoughts, because as tempting as they were, he wasn't looking for a fight for once. What he was really looking for was a way out of this increasingly hellish situation, though unfortunately, short of death, there was none. He slumped back against the wall of the shuttle with a sigh, resisting the urge to bang his head against it. Barely.
"I'm not going to stop talking Jayne." Simon's words were cool, his tone firm, but for a moment the anger he felt flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by cool distain as he watched the man brood. Simon didn't want the Reavers to catch them anymore than Jayne did; the only difference was that if they did catch them, finally Jayne would get the chance to know how it truly felt to be out of control and terrified- how Simon had felt for so long as he'd fought to find River. The same feeling that would have returned if Jayne's betrayal and deal had been successful.
"Tell me, what is the price of a life, Jayne?" He walked away from the man. "Of two lives- mine and River's?" A cold smile was on his face as he turned back to Jayne, indicating the gun the man held. "When the Reavers come, they won't bargain with you like the Alliance do. You can offer them me, the shuttle, but ultimately we'll both be subjected to their perversions."
"Oooh it won't come ta that," Jayne spat. "I'll shoot myself before I'll get get. You, on the other hand... Well, I ain't gonna leave you a bullet, but you're the one's so good with knives. You can take one off my body when I'm dead. If they let you get that far." He was shaking with fury, with the strength it took to repress the desire to punch that smirk off of Simon's face. Fear and rage boiled in his veins like venom and he took a few steps closer to Simon, pausing only when his lips were nearly touching the other man's ear so he could whisper, "Your life means nothing' to me. The only thing keepin' me from killin' you right now is that it's too good for you. Better ta leave you for the Reavers."
To say that hurt was an understatement. To say it hit Simon deep in the chest, made his stomach churn and his blood run cold... That was closer, but nowhere near close to describing the hurt, anger, and loathing he felt as he stared into Jayne's furious eyes. "Don't worry about me Jayne, I just hope you don't run out of bullets." He shook his head, thinking of his own get-out, the arsenic tablets inside his med-kit.
"They get that gun off you, or if you miss the vital organs...I just hope I'm alive long enough to watch that." He smiled coldly, inwardly hating they way he was acting but unable to stop himself, the loathing having gone on for too long. "The only thing your life means to me? A body to throw in the way when they board."
"Well good. S'long as we're on the same page." He brushed past Simon, hitting him hard in the shoulder with his own as he did so. His head was reeling, blood pounding in his ears. He hadn't quite meant what he'd said, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, but he didn't regret them. Not now. He should've expected that kind of sentiment, especially given the way he'd vocalized his own, but it left him feeling numb, cold spreading through his stomach and seeping into the rest of his body, giving him goose bumps. The knowledge that he could push the normally soft and kind-hearted doctor into saying such vile things about him stung in a way he'd never thought it could. He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the shuttle wall, and tried to calculate their chances of survival. If they were low enough, he'd seriously consider turning his gun on himself now, sparing him from any more of this turmoil.
"I think we're more alike then you might think," Simon muttered to himself, clenching the shuttle's control panel. He hated this; hated every moment of being forced into Jayne's company and every moment that it had taken to say those despicable things. Moving to his med-kit, Simon ignored the pain in his shoulder in favor of finding the tiny poison tablets. If the Reavers came, chances were he wouldn't be able to get to them in time, something that frightened him more than leaving River alone in the black. Shaking out two tablets into his top pocket, Simon bit his lip before shaking out two more. One was enough to cause death, two was just overkill- still, Simon felt better having them, and if the Reavers boarded and Jayne's gun failed... Simon would at least give the merc that dignity. He hated Jayne, loathed him even, but now his sensibilities were returning, now Simon was alone with his thoughts his perspective was normal again. Simon felt sick; sickened at the memory of what he'd said and what Jayne had said in retaliation. To know he was nothing to Jayne was no more than he'd expected, although it stung Simon some, but for the man to believe he deserved the fun the Reavers would bring, Jayne would have to hate him with a passion beyond explanation. Leant against the wall, Simon slumped down, his head in his hands, wishing that he could forget it all.
Jayne took his gun out of his holster and held it in his hands, contemplating it as though it were foreign to him. It was one of the smaller pistols he carried; he'd left Vera and the other big guns on the ship, having been assured that the job would go down smooth. He thought about which would be the best way to do it, when the time came. Shuddering at the morbidity of it all, he quickly holstered it again and snuck a fleeting glance at Simon. The man was slumped against the wall with his face in his hands, and if it weren't for the fact that his shoulders were still, Jayne would have sworn that he was crying. He bit his lip, paused for a moment, then got to his feet. Not pausing to wonder why Simon's abject despair should bother him, he sat down next to the doctor, though he didn't look at him. He folded his arms and rested his chin on them, staring at the far wall.
"Nobody deserves ta die like that," he whispered, voice harsh and barely audible. "I'll shoot you first, them myself, if it comes to it."
Simon sensed Jayne moving over to him, though he didn't look even when the merc sat next to him. "Might be easier not to," he mused resting his head on arms folded over his knees. He spoke almost clinically, easier to look upon the situation than to be in it. "Might knock the stick out of my pigu to go a few rounds with them- and give you time to get away." He added the last part as an afterthought, keeping his gaze away from the other man. Focusing on the floor helped, centred Simon some, even if he felt awful after saying such atrocities to Jayne. He forced himself to incline his head, to look at Jayne. The man's position humbled Simon, his offer shaming the man even more; Simon's voice was barely a whisper as he replied, "Thank you." Swallowing hard, with slightly shaky hands, Simon pulled two of the tablets out and offered them to Jayne. "In case they come, in case the gun gets taken away."
"Get away ta where?" Jayne laughed, cold and without humour. "There's just this dinky-ass shuttle between us and nothin', and there ain't nowhere in here ta hide." He leaned his head back against the wall, aware of Simon's gaze but unable to meet it. An eyebrow quirked up at the whispered thanks, and he was in the middle of trying to think of a reply when Simon's trembling hand was held out to him. He took the pills, looking over them with morbid curiosity before pocketing them, an equally quiet mutter of thanks on his lips.
"What are they?"
"Poison- a type of arsenic." Simon was able to answer without his voice shaking which was a bonus, given that his soul was. "Highly toxic, one should suffice but two-" he bit off the rest of his explanation. "There's no antidote with me, so unbearable as you may find my company, try to hold off until we get back." Simon wasn't sure why he made the somewhat dark joke, his eyes still on Jayne. He worried his lip, unsure what to say to a man who loathed him just as much, if not more. They were brought together by kindred circumstances, their mutual enemy the only common denominator.
He had to know though, had to understand why Jayne was as he was and had betrayed them so callously. A dying man's wish, as it were. "Why did you make that deal?"
At this point, Jayne would've answered just about any question that Simon asked him with frank honesty- after all, what did he have to lose? But not that one. No one knew the answer to that one. Mal thought he did, but he was wrong. It wasn't the money. If it was the money, he would've done it long ago. He was stupid to try it even then, shoulda known he would've just gotten pinched, but he was driven by something much more desperate than the need for cash.
It was Canton. That ruttin' stupid boy taking the bullet for him. It ate at him, threatened to devour him, the guilt that he felt over it. He'd never felt like that before, and prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in that he never did again. Worse than the guilt, though, was what the guilt did to him. It was hard to kill after that, even if the people deserved killin'. He kept seeing those empty eyes looking up at him, staring and accusatory. In his line of work, a killer instinct was a necessity. He couldn't afford to go soft. So while River stabbing him pushed him over the edge, it was the driving need to prove to himself that he was still ruthless that finally made the decision for him. But he would never admit that to anyone, only barely admitted it to himself. He studied his hands intently, steadied his voice, and answered.
"It was the money."
It was the answer Simon had expected, the answer that stared him in the face and told him all he needed to know about Jayne Cobb- all he needed to despise about Jayne Cobb. Or it would have, if he'd believed the excuse. Simon's eyes were on Jayne's, analysing and assessing the man, even as he avoided looking at him. Something was off in Jayne's tone; it was as though he wasn't trying, was just expecting Simon to buy into the excuse. But Simon didn't. For a moment, something shone in Jayne's eyes, something fierce and desperate, something hurting, and Simon was reminded of his sister's cryptic words on the incident.
"Must have been a good amount." Simon's voice was steady, his tone even though his expression conveyed his lack of belief. Somehow thinking such a thing, musing on Jayne, relieved some of the fury he'd felt towards the man. Some, but not all. He was still more likely to snap, snark or bite Jayne than offer him a hand in comfort. He still had yet to look at Jayne's shoulder, to bind it, though he doubted the merc would let him. "I don't care you know, that you betrayed me. Funny, I almost expected it." Simon smiled slightly, wishing that he could stop talking, could perhaps get extremely inebriated and forget that they were stuck together in the black, soon to run low on oxygen.
"River's face...she was so terrified that they were going to get her, that they were coming. You could have left me there for all I cared, I just wanted her away from it all- safe. That's all I ever wanted for her."
"It was, at that. More money than I woulda known what ta do with." And it had been, not that it really mattered. He'd never really expected to get his hands on it. Simon's next admission made him laugh, flat and without humour. "Only almost? Why Doc, I'm almost touched. You sure ain't all that bright, fer all your fancy learnin'." The sleight was automatic, a knee-jerk reflex from all the time they'd spent taking shots at each other. He fiddled with his hands as Simon kept talking. The man really never did shut up.
You could have left me there for all I cared.
And he could have, that was the thing. No one seemed to notice, but he could easily have run for it on his own. Probably would've gotten away easier without those two to slow him down. But he'd undone their cuffs instead. He'd never really examined the reason why, but for some reason he just couldn't leave them. Well, River he really couldn't care less about, girl was far more trouble than she was worth. Simon had his uses; at least he could patch them up when they got shot at. But it was more than that.
He gnawed at his lip, mulling it over in his head. It was that man, that was it- the one whose life Simon had saved. It was dangerous and stupid, risking them all getting caught like that, but that was just the way Simon was, always thinking of others instead of himself. That was what Jayne saw, and that was why he'd made the choice he did. Not that he would ever tell him that, even if he thought to ask. Like his motivations for turning them in in the first place, that secret he would take to his grave. Which might not be far off, the way things were looking.
"Top three percent." Simon's smile was humourless. "No not as intelligent, not like River, she foresaw it coming. Shame she didn't see this too. It would have been nice to have warning that we'd be dying out here, at least arrangements could have been made, alcohol could have been brought." He broke off the babble, his hands once more folded over his feet as he avoided Jayne's gaze. The merc's words just didn't ring true; they were like a tired excuse- overused and unbelievable. Jayne had betrayed them, screwed himself in the process, and yet when they'd attacked those guards, Jayne could have just left them there, could have made his way back to Mal and Serenity, leaving Simon and River to go it on their own. Yet he hadn't, he'd unlocked Simon's cuffs and pushed the two out the room.
He had a gun at that point, so why didn't he shoot us? It would have distracted the feds, he could have gotten away quickly, slipped away in the fuss.
"But you didn't leave us." Simon's eyes were on Jayne's, his gaze thoughtful. "Why?"
"Was hopin' I could get away with it. D'you really think Mal woulda let me back on the boat without you two? He woulda known what I done and tossed me out the airlock." Jayne was a practiced liar, and it was only too easy to think of the right words. He didn't even care at that point if Simon believed him or not. That was the best he was going to get.
"Alcohol, huh? Yeah, that'd be nice. Still, it wouldn't do ta get so drunk we couldn't find those pills in time." He shuddered at the thought, chewing nervously on his blunt fingernails, almost wishing that his deal with the Alliance had gone smooth so that he could buy a farm on some moon somewhere and avoid Reaver space entirely. Almost.
Simon wanted to call Jayne on the lie; the man's eyes were shifting and dilating, his skin flushing as he spoke. Jayne probably didn't even realize it. "Well thank you anyway. With River in that state, we wouldn't have gotten far without you. So whatever your reasoning, thank you." Simon's words were soft as he stared up at the window in the shuttle's cockpit, something shiny catching his eyes off the port side, not close enough to make out. Serenity, perhaps?
For a moment, Simon let the flicker of hope rush through him, brief as it was. "Maybe we won't need them." It was a nice thought, an unlikely thought, growing even more so by the moment as the object loomed closer, too twisted and gnarled to be the ship they prayed for. Alliance, or Reavers. Simon swallowed hard, dragging his gaze from the screen in case Jayne noticed what he was looking at and asked the question he'd wondered since he first got on board, partly to distract Jayne and partly for himself.
"Why is it that you hate me Jayne?"
"Geeze you're mouthy," he grumbled, hands twisting together in nervous agitation. He didn't hate Simon, hating someone took way too much energy. And sure, Simon was annoying and prissy and downright impossible to live with, but that was no reason to hate him all the same. He'd followed Simon's gaze, seen the Reaver ship as it approached, and his stomach did a slow roll. Their chances of survival looking increasingly slim, he sighed, resting his chin on his arms once more.
"Whoever said that I hated you anyway? Sure, I sold you out, but you shoulda seen that coming. What makes you think I wouldn'ta done it to any of the others, if'n they had a bounty that high on their heads? Don't go thinkin' you're special or nothin'."
"Isn't that what you love about me?" Simon's smirk was bitter, his head back against the wall as his gaze travelled back to the approaching ship. He was unable to tear his eyes away, even if Jayne did catch sight and space out over it. Bile was rising in his throat, stomach lurching as Simon barely breathed. It was all he could do to force himself to behave normally, to push everything he could to the front and hide behind it- the good little Core boy.
At Jayne's words Simon laughed, the sound brittle. "Oh I would never think I was special Jayne, I'm sure you would have equally sold out Kaylee, or the Shepherd, or Mal for such a bounty." His smile was humourless as his fingers drummed impatiently against his leg. "Guess I was too busy pretending to see something else."
"And what was that? It's my turn to ask questions now." Even if he'd earned that comment, it stung a little. He wouldn't have sold out the others, not for any amount of money. Jayne had had enough shitty jobs to know a good one came along, and it was unutterably stupid of him to risk it on Ariel. His dislike of River had made it easy enough to turn her in, and Simon by proxy, under the circumstances, but Jayne respected the rest of the crew, and that was no small feat on their part. And he respected Simon, but no amount of torture, nor even the threat of impending death, would force him to admit it. He was, however, intrigued by Simon's last statement, and he turned to look at the man, meeting his eyes for the first time since he'd told him that he deserved to be taken by the Reavers.
Now Jayne was looking at him. Great timing, Simon thought sarcastically, noticing out of the corner of his eye as the ship loomed closer, heading directly for them. The intensity in Jayne's gaze was starling and almost made Simon blurt the truth out there and then, but he quashed the feeling. Just as he couldn't get answers from Jayne, Jayne wouldn't get answers from him. Simon didn't have the energy and they didn't have the time.
The energy...
Simon's eyes widened, an idea which was possibly ludicrous and redundant coming to his mind. "Power, cut the power!" He shot forward, his hands at the controls, confused over which was what since he'd never been pilot nor learnt more than the basics. Glancing back at Jayne, fear and excitement showing through, he repeated his mantra. "Cut the power." Simon shook his head. "We have space suits. We get into them, we hide and we turn the oxygen and heat off. If we look dead in the water, they might not grab us."
In that moment, Jayne could've kissed Simon. "You're a genius!" He shoved Simon out of the way, cutting the power with a few quick keystrokes before gripping the man's shoulder and dragging him to the other side of the shuttle where the suits were. He climbed into his with practiced ease, then helped get Simon settled. Ye soo, all these months on a space ship and he still hadn't figured out how to put on a suit properly. Once that was done, he rearranged some of the clutter to manufacture a decent enough hiding space, should they be boarded.
After a few minutes, the excitement of this new plan wore off and Jayne regarded Simon with a searching gaze. "Good an idea as that was, Doc, you still ain't answered my question. I answered yours. Fair's fair, now get to it."
Simon was surprised by Jayne's speed but appreciated it greatly, as he did the helping hand into his suit. Trouble was, once in the suit, Simon was starting to feel claustrophobic. He knew he couldn't take the suit off; he'd asphyxiate or freeze without it on, but the idea of being so confined with the Reavers so close and the black even closer... A slight tremor ran through Simon and for once he was glad of Jayne's question, of his mouth.
"I guess I saw something I thought you were. Like Mal, thought you had your own sense of honour and decency. Thought maybe you saw us as part of the crew, laughable as it is. Believing was easier with the way I thought of you, guess now seeing is believing instead." Simon inhaled deeply, his vision swimming as the junk around then seemed to draw closer. "I suppose I was wrong."
"Yeah, I guess so." He looked down again, curled in on himself tighter. He'd always known that Simon had a low opinion of him, so why did that knowledge have to pick now to start bothering him? Over the months, he had started thinking of Simon as a member of the crew, if only because he'd been there long enough. The girl he doubted he'd ever think of as crew, but to be fair, she didn't contribute anything to the running of the ship, so why should he? Still, bastard though he was, Jayne did like to think that he had his own sense of honour, stilted as it might be, but it did him no good to let other people know about it. Then they'd start expecting things from him, and after that, life just got more and more tough. No, however much it hurt, let them think he was a heartless bastard. It was less complicated that way.
"Maybe." Simon's answer was short but his temper was starting to get the better of him again; panic and uncertainty threatening to push him over the edge instead of just stoking his temper. He didn't believe Jayne's excuses, and his own internal panic was fuelling his belief that Jayne was lying for whatever reason, he wasn't sure. As a shudder shook the ship, Simon's hand instinctively grasped Jayne's arm, terror threatening to pull him under. "If the Reavers try to eat me, then will you tell me the truth?"
Jayne didn't like the panicky look in Simon's eyes. Panic would do them no good in this situation, and if they did get boarded, Simon would need his wits about him if he was going to escape what would otherwise be a horrible death at their hands. He wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders, gripping tightly through the suit, hoping it would help calm him down.
"Tell you the truth about what?" The ship jerked again and Simon cried out, digging his fingers into Jayne's arm. Jayne shook him hard, trying to divert his attention. "Tell you the truth about what, Simon? What d'you think I'm lyin' about? Don't pay attention to that, gorrammit, I'm askin' you a question. Answer me!"
It was closing in on him; the black, the Reavers...and Serenity was no where in sight, the whole 'verse between Simon and home. It wanted to swallow him, devour him, and let the Reavers take his body. It called to him, taunting him as it shook them again and again. Simon didn't even realize he'd cried out, his vision seemed to sway, closing in on him, threatening to suffocate. He had to get out, get away, take the suit off-
"Tell you the truth about what?"
The words were harsh, almost a growl, but they punched through to Simon, his vision of reality snapping back as Jayne shook him. The answer left his lips at the same time a gasp did. "Why you lie about it being for the money."
"What makes you think I'm lyin'?" The question served two purposes- distracting Simon, and giving him time to think of a decent lie, as it seemed that the original one wasn't working. He tightened his grip on Simon's shoulder, willing himself not to let the man's panic spread to him the way it was wanting to. Deep breaths, he took deep breaths, closing his eyes momentarily to calm himself before opening them again and forcing Simon to catch his eyes, as the man had taken to darting petrified glances around the ship again. "Talk to me, Simon, tell me why you think I'm lying." He hadn't realized that he'd started using the doctor's proper name.
"Because it's not you." Simon was digging his fingers into his own knees now, trying to keep himself focused on anything but the room swaying inwards. "Maybe I'm dreaming, maybe it is you, it might just be I'm tad blind where your concerned." Simon laughed harshly, the laugh becoming a cough before he choked out, "River told me."
He drew a shaky break and frantically checked the oxygen monitor on his suit. It read full, but then why was he having such difficulty breathing? His suit had to be malfunctioning and leaking oxygen, it was the only explanation. Simon was breathing quickly now, faster then he should, Hyperventilating, he heard him mind telling him.
"River told you what?" He shook Simon again, wishing he could reach through the mask and slap him, if it would help to calm him down. "Take a deep breath, Doc, you got plenty'a air in there, it'll last. Just, stop, fer a second and breathe, okay? Then keep talking. What did River tell you about me, and why do you think that's not like me, sellin' you out for money?" The shuttle had stopped shaking, but Jayne wasn't going to risk checking out the window. He didn't want to leave their hiding spot in case the Reavers had docked, and he didn't want to leave Simon, couldn't leave him like that. Who knew what he would do if the shuttle started shaking again?
Simon yelped as Jayne's finger's dug into his shoulders, his head bouncing against the side of the suit when Jayne shook him. The jolt knocked some semblance of sense into him though, and he stared at the merc, eyes wide through the plexi-glass shield of suit. "I told her you weren't all bad inside, that you'd saved our lives. She told me that you wanted to be, that you were too lost not to." Simon shook his head, pulling back from Jayne. "Then she rambled about a lot of other things which I didn't understand, about coldness and need- I thought it was all typical River-speak. It was only later that I put everything that I could together, after I'd make a bai chi of myself by hero-worshipping you."
He was calmer now, closing his eyes to avoid seeing the walls move in again. "I never thought it was like you Jayne, not after seeing how you were with the crew after what happened in Canton."
Jayne winced at the mention of Canton; Simon was getting way too close to the mark for comfort, and his mind searched desperately for a reply that would put some distance between them, get him thinking along a different line. Nothing came to him. All thoughts of the Reaver ship and their certain peril were gone, but now he was starting to panic, feeling it prickling his skin, narrowing his vision. Words that Simon had said were repeating themselves over and over in his head, out of order and making no sense, "Canton" and "lost" and "hero" and "bad" and "need." He shook his head hard, trying to make them stop, and turned it around on Simon the only way he knew how.
"Yeah, well, yer sister's crazy. What's she know?"
Something about Jayne's tone had Simon opening his eyes, braving the possibility that the claustrophobia would return. "I don't know, but she's oddly more perceptive then she used to be." His words were soft, his eyes focusing on Jayne, not noticing the reflection of the ominously close ship in his vision. "I thought perhaps I was grasping at straws, trying to believe the best in you when there was nothing to find. I wanted to believe that, but I'm unable to. I prefer to think River is right."
Jayne couldn't think of a reply. His arm fell from around Simon's shoulders and he drew his knees to his chest, half-hoping that they would be boarded, anything to get him away from this increasingly unsettling conversation, and Simon's gaze.
"Think whatever you want, that don't make it true," he muttered, but even he could hear that the words had no conviction. He rested his chin on his knees again, trying to will away the heavy silence that had fallen over the shuttle, leaving him alone with his thoughts, thoughts he didn't want to be having.
"I know that, but in the absence of truth I prefer to go with that." Simon wet his lips. "Go with evidence I have, as it were." There was a silence between them, only punctuated by crunching from above, from the Reaver ship grating against them. "I always believed in second chances, like I believe in last confessions. I don't expect you to tell me Jayne." A high pitched whining was coming from the Reaver ship, coming in short bursts and aggravating Simon's ears. "Do you have any for me?"
"Confessions? Naw, I got nothin' I feel the overwhelmin' need ta confess to you. Or anyone else," he tacked on, not wanting that to be taken the wrong way. "Don't much believe in the need fer forgiveness, and I don't believe in second chances." This was not a conversation he wanted to be having; Simon seemed hell-bent on making him think about things he'd rather not even admit to being aware of. "But if you got things you need ta get off yer chest, feel free, I'll listen. Ain't got nothin' better ta do. Can't say I c'n offer you much in the way of forgiveness, I ain't the preacher, but I can listen when I've a mind."
Now that, he was actually interested. Was there anything that the innocent doctor felt that he needed to be forgiven for? The martyr, who'd sacrificed himself for the sake of another, and continued to suffer for her on a daily basis (especially on days that Jayne was feeling ornery)- what terrible sin, in his eyes, could he have possibly committed that would be bad enough for him to bring up the idea of last confessions, especially to someone as obviously unrepentant as Jayne? He lifted his chin off his knees and turned to face the other man with rapt attention, eyes narrowing in anticipation.
"Suit yourself." Jayne's descriptive rejection of Simon's offer made the man wonder if perhaps the mercenary was protesting too much. "I can't say there's much I particularly want forgiveness for, but if there was anything I could change it would be letting River go to that school. Supporting her decision rather than looking more into the details. Could have saved a lot of heartache on my part, and yours too, I expect."
He meant the crew as a whole; he was well aware that though he pulled his weight as best he could, patching and repairing the crew. River's presence was less useful.
Simon paused. That was a partial truth; there were things he was less proud of, things he had done in his search for River that were less seemly than he was sure any of them would expect. Never had Simon pulled a trigger, nor done less then his utmost to save a patient, but once and only once he did walk away. Putting his sister and their safety above everything, and condemning an innocent man. Opening his mouth as if to speak, Simon closed it again, unsure of what to say, whether he could justify it or not. Whether he needed to. "The people that contacted me, that helped me get River out, they were specific about times planning and dates. Money was exchanged, deals were made, everything was finely planned, down to the uniform they purchased for me. I was meant to play the officer, an Alliance one you know-" Simon looked at Jayne, "high ranking, pompous and important. They thought I could pull off the role with the most confidence." He smiled, a soft laugh as he thought on it. "That, and they doubtlessly thought it was better for me to take the risks."
Figures it'd be something selfless like that, an 'I should have done better for someone else.' Seems that there was nothing more to Simon than met the eye after all. Jayne had almost been wishing that it was something terrible, something dark or selfish or shameful in some way that would make the doctor less blameless and innocent, more human. Nobody could be that selfless all the time, but it seemed that couldn't be true, because the truth was staring him in the face, looking at him like he was expecting something.
"Heartache? That's an interesting choice of words."
He refrained from commenting on Simon's aside that he was the logical choice to play the role of a pompous Alliance officer- that was just too easy. Nothing about this damned job had gone easy, and now was no time to start. Better to keep it painful, so that when death did come, it would at least be a relief.
"Is it?" Simon gave him a slight smile but didn't comment anymore. He could see from Jayne's stance that the man didn't understand what he was trying to tell him; not that Simon blamed Jayne. He hadn't done too well explaining himself. No longer focused on the spacesuit, or the ship that hovered so close to them, Simon's eyes were on Jayne's, searching them as if to find something in them, something he wasn't even sure he should be looking for- a kind of kinship, he supposed.
"Before we attempted rescuing River, I played the role of visiting official. I made the right calls, buttered up the right people, and played each and every one of the yin dao." Simon bit off his words. "Sorry." He wasn't sure why he was apologizing to Jayne for his use of profanity; the merc was almost an avid follower of curses.
"Night before my official visit, the one time I'd actually be able to get close to River, I took myself out to the city- couldn't stay in that room, just waiting and counting down the hours; walking seemed the best option." Simon's eyes were no longer Jayne, lost in the memory and part out of shame for his role in it. "There was a shooting incident, just a bar incident, nothing suspicious, but I saw it and I went to help. I might not have given away my medical inclination, but most people know basic aid." He sighed. "The victim was one of the guards at the facility where they held River, I didn't realize until my fingers were inside his chest plugging the bullet holes. But when I looked at him, I recognized him, and I couldn't help wonder if this was one of the monsters hurting my sister. If he could sleep easy and enjoy himself whilst they tortured my mei mei."
Simon didn't realize his fists were clenched as he spoke softly. "I'm a doctor, I'm meant to save lives, but when I saw who he was- who he could be-" He stared down at his hands. "I could have just walked away, given him a fighting chance even. When you're a doctor, you know how close you are to vital organs, their position and how they react under pressure." He looked up at Jayne, eyes troubled. "It's not exactly an accident if your fingers slip."
Jayne was only half-listening, lost in his own thoughts, but that got his full attention. Realization dawned on him, slowly, and his eyes widened. That was what he'd wanted to hear, at least, what he thought he wanted, but faced with the sudden reality of it... No, that was too much, that hurt in a way that it never should have, hearing the cold, flat tone of Simon's voice as he confessed to killing a man with his bare hands, the pain and guilt of it reflected plainly in his eyes.
It was frightening and wrong and he wanted to say something to make it better, or make Simon take it back, or at least offer some kind of absolution. But that wasn't his place. Even if he'd said that Simon was right to do it, which in Jayne's eyes he was, it would have meant nothing coming from a man who killed for as simple a reason as 'because I was told to'. No, there was nothing he could do, and that was the worst part, being helpless in this as they were in their current situation, sitting ducks in a busted shuttle floating through Reaver space. So he just looked at Simon, held his gaze, hoping that he could portray at least something through his own eyes that the other man could find comfort in. Small comfort, to be sure, but anything is better than nothing, especially since they weren't likely to have a chance at finding something more.
How the di yu had he managed to shock Jayne? Simon wondered. There was something just wrong in that idea, something the gnawed at Simon just that little bit more. He hadn't let himself feel guilty that night, nor the next day; his mind had been on River, rescuing her and getting her as far away as possible. He'd pushed the guilt to the back of his mind, becoming cooler towards any and every whilst he clung to his sister.
His second day aboard Serenity was when Simon had let himself reflect on what he'd done, on the life he could have saved. He was a doctor, dedicated to saving lives, yet for that moment he was no better then a common criminal. Mal's punches, Jayne grabbing him, the Crew's initial coldness- he'd been almost thankful for it. At first their attitude pushed him away, let him hide behind who he wanted them to see- the healer within him and nothing more. Then they'd started worming there way inside; first Kaylee trying to get close, her attraction obvious. He'd kept her away, known his words had hurt her and stung her pride, but they pushed her away and kept everyone else at bay by default. And in some perverse manner, he felt he deserved the scorn from the others, their lack of faith and dubious trust- not to mention the physical repercussions.
The laughable thing was, now Simon could see kinship in Jayne's eyes, or something close enough for him to take comfort. The fact the merc didn't scathe or thump him on the back with praises helped a little too. Truthfully, absolution couldn't, Simon doubted even such forgiveness from the Shepherd would mean much.
Unfortunately, Simon couldn't stop speaking, their predicament second to what he felt he had to explain. Not wanting forgiveness but maybe, understanding? From anyone, especially Jayne. That was enough. ""They praised me afterwards you know, his superiors, said I made a superb attempt." Simon smiled, but the smile was tinged with bitterness. "I didn't have time to feel guilty, the only thing I felt was relief. My apparent heroic attempt put me in good graces with those at the facility, which made them rather careless with security the next day. It was surprisingly easy to rescue River, in comparison to the plan we'd originally created."
Jayne simply didn't know what to say. The unreality of it all was starting to get to him, make him feel dizzy. Strange enough that he should be trapped out in the black on a dead shuttle, stranger still that he should be trapped with Simon, strange that he was suddenly Simon and no longer the Doc, strange that he was in a space suit yet still inside the shuttle, pathetically attempting to hide behind a bunch of boxes from assailants that weren't even there. But add to that Simon's story, the way Simon was looking at him, normally bright eyes gone dull and flat...it was so thoroughly surreal that he was starting to wonder if he was dreaming, or insane, or already dead.
His body felt numb and weightless, and for a brief, panicky moment he was sure that he was going to float up to the ceiling, but that was crazy. He shook his head hard, wincing at the dull throb it caused, but glad of it, as it anchored him back into reality. Swallowing hard, he met Simon's eyes again.
"That...was a pretty damn spectacular last confession," he managed.