Coming Home
Title: Coming Home
Series: Finding
Sub-Series: New song arc begun with In Between and Jayne's Song. Continues now with an OC.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1873
Spoilers: Post-BDM
Characters: Jayne, Mal,River, OC child.
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: As always
razycrandomgirl supports and nourishes the muse and
bookaddict43 nudges me to try harder. May their love and support be rewarded! Here he is ladies. May he live up to your hopes.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline...
Concrit = Air
Previously: Move, Dig , and Catch
Coming Home
The slow rasp of iron on stone grated in the silence. Mal was leaned back reading over a manifest from the last job while Jayne concentrated on the gleam of the blade he was honing. Beside him sat a boy. Large if he was five, small if he was ten. Most likely guess would be eight. The boy hadn’t said and no one knew for sure.
White-blond hair topped a complexion darker than expected for the hair and eye color. His eyes were such a pale blue it looked like light passing through ice. He watched Jayne raptly, watched the knife slide against the whetstone leaving faint scars of filings. They had been there for a while and the quiet examination of the knife kept boy and man engaged.
Serenity had lifted into space from the destruction of Three Hills the day before, putting as much distance between them as possible. Reaver destroyed homes and vanished population bespoke a fate none of them wanted to share. They had found the boy when River had refused to leave as soon as they realized the decimation.
He hadn’t spoken when they found him, had been mostly silent since. He was the only survivor. He had dug himself a hidey hole under the porch of his home. A little burrow clawed open with a small garden trowel and desperation. Dirt was still embedded under his fingernails, what he had seen was still invisible to the eye. Time would be would be what revealed that.
At some point Jayne just started talking. Mal quirked his brow at that, glancing up over his reading quizzically.
“All just dried up and blew away. Weren’t no one left. Ma passed and I didn’t ever keep touch with none a’ the others. Mattie moved to Three Hills sometime last few years I heard. Didn’t ever talk to him after Ma died though.” He kept focused on the knife as he spoke.
“I remember an old woman; her hair was near white.” The boy was barely whispering.
“That’d be Ma. But it weren’t white, it was the color a’ yours. Corn silk Pa called it. Bunch a’ the kids were that colorin’; others were like me and Mattie. Darker like.”
“Jayne? You actually have kin other than your Ma and Mattie? We haven’t heard about none of them.” Mal was warring inside with disbelief and entertainment at the taciturn man talking with the young boy.
“Jus’ cause I don’t talk much on it don’t mean I don’t have family. Private is all.” Jayne grumbled, shooting Mal a dirty look.
“Do I got any more family? Now that my Pa is gone.” The child asked softly.
“Ya got folk here, on Serenity.” Jayne answered gruffly, turning back to honing his hunting knife.
“I mean blood kin. Other than you…” Boy’s voice trailed off at the sharp look from Jayne.
“Don’t rightly know. Never did keep touch like I said. Maybe.” Jayne replied looking back to what he was doing. Set of his shoulders tight.
Children being what they are, the boy impulsively blurted, “How come you don’t know? Don’t they mean nothing to you?”
Without warning, Jayne cuffed his hand out and struck the boy across the cheek. “Don’t ever go to askin’ me about what family means. Dong ma?” His voice was hard and cold.
Mal sat up, hands laid on the roughhewn table top, “Jayne...” he said warningly.
Jayne swung to look at Mal, “I ain’t gonna do no more,” he looked back at the child cradling his reddened cheek, silent, “Won’t need ta will I?” White blond hair swung in the negative, silent.
Jayne pushed away from the table, snatching up his rag and stone, knife back in its scabbard. Without a backwards glance he stalked out of the galley.
Mal quietly slipped over to sit next to the silent child. The boy’s eyes were large and filled with tears that he refused to let fall. The clearest, palest blue eyes looked up at Mal. The question in them was unmistakable.
Mal reached out carefully to draw the little hand away from the boy’s cheek. It was red and angry looking, but not so much that it would bruise he figured. “Want something cold for that?” he asked gently.
The boy nodded. Mal got up smoothly and retrieved a packet of some frozen vegetable Kaylee had most like found at a good price and bought regardless of whether it was any good.
Mal settled back down next to the quiet child. Tears were still glistening, unshed.
“So, you’re wondering what kind of boat you’ve landed on aren’t you?”
Nod.
Mal quirked a smile at that, “Yeah, me too most days. This is my home, my crew… can’t say I know any of them all that well for all we been together for more than six years, some longer. Zoë and I been watching each other’s backs for twelve I think.” He chuckled wryly, “I think I understand that woman less than any of the others.” The boy was listening quietly, eyes growing calmer.
“Let’s see, you’ll hear about Wash sometimes. He was our pilot, Zoë’s husband too… Not like I ever said that would be all right. You’ll find managing a crew ain’t as easy as I make it look.” Mal grinned at his irony. The child smiled tentatively back. Mal reached out to see how the cheek looked under the frozen packet but the boy lurched back out of reach.
“Whoa there son, was just taking a look, I won’t hurt you.” Mal added kindly as he reached more slowly. Satisfied that the redness was disappearing easily, he continued talking as it seemed to calm the child, and truth be told, himself.
“Kaylee now, she’s been sunshine and light on this boat since the first time I met her in the engine…” He paused, cleared his throat, “Right, well, since I hired her. She’s the one to go to for sweets.” Mal leaned close and winked conspiratorially, “Always has a few squirreled away somewhere.” He saw the boy’s smile deepen a little at that.
“Inara. What can I tell you. Been here long enough she’s crew, but she’s more too...” Staying leaned close, Mal whispered, “I’m gonna be marryin’ her one a these days. Don’t go to tellin’ anyone. Dong ma?”
The boy nodded solemnly in promise. Mal straightened up, nodded in satisfaction.
“The Doc, Simon, now he’s the one you’ll be seein’ for all those bumps and scrapes little boys and grown men seem to collect.” Mal paused when he saw the boy touch his cheek tentatively and look around a little anxiously. “Well, not all of them. Some of them we just keep to ourselves. All right?” The boy nodded in agreement.
“You’re a quiet type aren’t you? Only heard you talk to Albatross, River that is, and Jayne. Conjure you know why?” Mal pressed lightly.
Boy looked away, eyes hidden behind a shock of blond bangs.
“You know your letters yet?” Mal changed tactic.
Without looking back up, the boy nodded.
“Fancy writing your name for me, seein’ as how I don’t got one to call you yet, and I am fair certain you don’t want me giving you one.” Mal smiled imagining the horror of the crew’s faces if they thought he would name a child. He slid a piece of paper River had left along with one of her colored pencils towards the child.
Carefully, small fingers curled around a smooth green pencil, fingers placed just so. With slow, even strokes the boy wrote his name. Augustus Montgomery Cobb. All the letters were neat and even. Not the usual jumbled writing of a young child.
Mal sat leaning forward casually, elbows on the table, looking at the penmanship. “Mighty big name to be carrying around.”
A nod in response to that, still no eye contact.
“You mind if I shorten that a bit? Seein’ as how I am the Captain and all and I gotta be able to call crew quick like?” Mal asked.
A nod again.
“I already bellow Cobb more than I oughta need to at yer fa… at Jayne.” Mal stumbled over the last few words. “All right then. Gus. Conjure that’s the easiest.” Gus just peeked up quickly before ducking his head back to the paper. With quiet fingers, he wrote G-U-S and sat up to study it. His eyes were intent, brow furrowed in a way that Mal had seen countless times on Jayne when he concentrated. Mal had to stop himself from smiling or cringing. He wasn’t sure which was the better response.
~*~
I could laugh but you could cry
And I never knew just how high
I was flying
Ah, with you right above me, Jim Steinmann/Meat Loaf
She dropped into their bunk quietly some hours later. He looked up from his examination of a sticky slide mechanism. His hands were barely still. She could see a tremor quaking across his skin. She reached out to touch those hands that soothed her so often.
“He is as he should be. A boy, a child. Yours and thus mine by marriage.” She said softly. She could feel the unease and anger mingled oozing off his skin like a reddened cloud.
Jayne shook his head miserably, body tight with unused expression, “I can’t be a Pa to no one. Too much not right, broken like.”
“You are fallible, as we all are…” River consciously thought out each word to be as clear as she could. His vibration overwhelmed his ability to hear more.
“Maybe so. Didn’t want no one chasin’ me down after I done messed up with bein’ a Pa.” He chewed the words into curses with inflection alone.
“Trying and failing is what we all do.”
Jayne looked at her bleakly, “I ain’t never wanted it. Got my fill a’ it when I was a boy. Near to raised most a’ my brothers and sisters. Never looked back when I left. Just kept up with Ma and Mattie while they was alive.”
“You will be as you are in all things… he is here, he is…”
Jayne wrestled his hands free, stood up abruptly, crunching a fist against the bulkhead, “I already done lost my temper at him… don’t want ta be that kind a’ Pa. I know what that feels like. Hittin’ and yellin’ fer no reason. Ain’t what I want.” He snarled out as he stalked forth and back.
River reached to him again, brushed a cool hand across his arm as he passed. He stopped, eyes downcast, looking away from her.
“Please… xin li, he is as us… broken, magnificent, fallible… he will need to find his home as we all have. As I have found it here.” She rose and laid her hand against Jayne’s chest, felt the thrum of his heart under her fingers, strong and resolute in life.
He sighed, a shuddering, resigned exhalation. He looked at his petite wife, his center as much as he was hers. His heart quailed at the hope shining in her eyes. They had a son that neither of them ever dreamed of.
“Hope is a waking dream… we have but to accept it.”
~*~
xin li my heart
Hope is but a waking dream Aristotle
Series: Finding
Sub-Series: New song arc begun with In Between and Jayne's Song. Continues now with an OC.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1873
Spoilers: Post-BDM
Characters: Jayne, Mal,River, OC child.
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: As always
razycrandomgirl supports and nourishes the muse and
bookaddict43 nudges me to try harder. May their love and support be rewarded! Here he is ladies. May he live up to your hopes.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline...
Concrit = Air
Previously: Move, Dig , and Catch
Coming Home
The slow rasp of iron on stone grated in the silence. Mal was leaned back reading over a manifest from the last job while Jayne concentrated on the gleam of the blade he was honing. Beside him sat a boy. Large if he was five, small if he was ten. Most likely guess would be eight. The boy hadn’t said and no one knew for sure.
White-blond hair topped a complexion darker than expected for the hair and eye color. His eyes were such a pale blue it looked like light passing through ice. He watched Jayne raptly, watched the knife slide against the whetstone leaving faint scars of filings. They had been there for a while and the quiet examination of the knife kept boy and man engaged.
Serenity had lifted into space from the destruction of Three Hills the day before, putting as much distance between them as possible. Reaver destroyed homes and vanished population bespoke a fate none of them wanted to share. They had found the boy when River had refused to leave as soon as they realized the decimation.
He hadn’t spoken when they found him, had been mostly silent since. He was the only survivor. He had dug himself a hidey hole under the porch of his home. A little burrow clawed open with a small garden trowel and desperation. Dirt was still embedded under his fingernails, what he had seen was still invisible to the eye. Time would be would be what revealed that.
At some point Jayne just started talking. Mal quirked his brow at that, glancing up over his reading quizzically.
“All just dried up and blew away. Weren’t no one left. Ma passed and I didn’t ever keep touch with none a’ the others. Mattie moved to Three Hills sometime last few years I heard. Didn’t ever talk to him after Ma died though.” He kept focused on the knife as he spoke.
“I remember an old woman; her hair was near white.” The boy was barely whispering.
“That’d be Ma. But it weren’t white, it was the color a’ yours. Corn silk Pa called it. Bunch a’ the kids were that colorin’; others were like me and Mattie. Darker like.”
“Jayne? You actually have kin other than your Ma and Mattie? We haven’t heard about none of them.” Mal was warring inside with disbelief and entertainment at the taciturn man talking with the young boy.
“Jus’ cause I don’t talk much on it don’t mean I don’t have family. Private is all.” Jayne grumbled, shooting Mal a dirty look.
“Do I got any more family? Now that my Pa is gone.” The child asked softly.
“Ya got folk here, on Serenity.” Jayne answered gruffly, turning back to honing his hunting knife.
“I mean blood kin. Other than you…” Boy’s voice trailed off at the sharp look from Jayne.
“Don’t rightly know. Never did keep touch like I said. Maybe.” Jayne replied looking back to what he was doing. Set of his shoulders tight.
Children being what they are, the boy impulsively blurted, “How come you don’t know? Don’t they mean nothing to you?”
Without warning, Jayne cuffed his hand out and struck the boy across the cheek. “Don’t ever go to askin’ me about what family means. Dong ma?” His voice was hard and cold.
Mal sat up, hands laid on the roughhewn table top, “Jayne...” he said warningly.
Jayne swung to look at Mal, “I ain’t gonna do no more,” he looked back at the child cradling his reddened cheek, silent, “Won’t need ta will I?” White blond hair swung in the negative, silent.
Jayne pushed away from the table, snatching up his rag and stone, knife back in its scabbard. Without a backwards glance he stalked out of the galley.
Mal quietly slipped over to sit next to the silent child. The boy’s eyes were large and filled with tears that he refused to let fall. The clearest, palest blue eyes looked up at Mal. The question in them was unmistakable.
Mal reached out carefully to draw the little hand away from the boy’s cheek. It was red and angry looking, but not so much that it would bruise he figured. “Want something cold for that?” he asked gently.
The boy nodded. Mal got up smoothly and retrieved a packet of some frozen vegetable Kaylee had most like found at a good price and bought regardless of whether it was any good.
Mal settled back down next to the quiet child. Tears were still glistening, unshed.
“So, you’re wondering what kind of boat you’ve landed on aren’t you?”
Nod.
Mal quirked a smile at that, “Yeah, me too most days. This is my home, my crew… can’t say I know any of them all that well for all we been together for more than six years, some longer. Zoë and I been watching each other’s backs for twelve I think.” He chuckled wryly, “I think I understand that woman less than any of the others.” The boy was listening quietly, eyes growing calmer.
“Let’s see, you’ll hear about Wash sometimes. He was our pilot, Zoë’s husband too… Not like I ever said that would be all right. You’ll find managing a crew ain’t as easy as I make it look.” Mal grinned at his irony. The child smiled tentatively back. Mal reached out to see how the cheek looked under the frozen packet but the boy lurched back out of reach.
“Whoa there son, was just taking a look, I won’t hurt you.” Mal added kindly as he reached more slowly. Satisfied that the redness was disappearing easily, he continued talking as it seemed to calm the child, and truth be told, himself.
“Kaylee now, she’s been sunshine and light on this boat since the first time I met her in the engine…” He paused, cleared his throat, “Right, well, since I hired her. She’s the one to go to for sweets.” Mal leaned close and winked conspiratorially, “Always has a few squirreled away somewhere.” He saw the boy’s smile deepen a little at that.
“Inara. What can I tell you. Been here long enough she’s crew, but she’s more too...” Staying leaned close, Mal whispered, “I’m gonna be marryin’ her one a these days. Don’t go to tellin’ anyone. Dong ma?”
The boy nodded solemnly in promise. Mal straightened up, nodded in satisfaction.
“The Doc, Simon, now he’s the one you’ll be seein’ for all those bumps and scrapes little boys and grown men seem to collect.” Mal paused when he saw the boy touch his cheek tentatively and look around a little anxiously. “Well, not all of them. Some of them we just keep to ourselves. All right?” The boy nodded in agreement.
“You’re a quiet type aren’t you? Only heard you talk to Albatross, River that is, and Jayne. Conjure you know why?” Mal pressed lightly.
Boy looked away, eyes hidden behind a shock of blond bangs.
“You know your letters yet?” Mal changed tactic.
Without looking back up, the boy nodded.
“Fancy writing your name for me, seein’ as how I don’t got one to call you yet, and I am fair certain you don’t want me giving you one.” Mal smiled imagining the horror of the crew’s faces if they thought he would name a child. He slid a piece of paper River had left along with one of her colored pencils towards the child.
Carefully, small fingers curled around a smooth green pencil, fingers placed just so. With slow, even strokes the boy wrote his name. Augustus Montgomery Cobb. All the letters were neat and even. Not the usual jumbled writing of a young child.
Mal sat leaning forward casually, elbows on the table, looking at the penmanship. “Mighty big name to be carrying around.”
A nod in response to that, still no eye contact.
“You mind if I shorten that a bit? Seein’ as how I am the Captain and all and I gotta be able to call crew quick like?” Mal asked.
A nod again.
“I already bellow Cobb more than I oughta need to at yer fa… at Jayne.” Mal stumbled over the last few words. “All right then. Gus. Conjure that’s the easiest.” Gus just peeked up quickly before ducking his head back to the paper. With quiet fingers, he wrote G-U-S and sat up to study it. His eyes were intent, brow furrowed in a way that Mal had seen countless times on Jayne when he concentrated. Mal had to stop himself from smiling or cringing. He wasn’t sure which was the better response.
~*~
I could laugh but you could cry
And I never knew just how high
I was flying
Ah, with you right above me, Jim Steinmann/Meat Loaf
She dropped into their bunk quietly some hours later. He looked up from his examination of a sticky slide mechanism. His hands were barely still. She could see a tremor quaking across his skin. She reached out to touch those hands that soothed her so often.
“He is as he should be. A boy, a child. Yours and thus mine by marriage.” She said softly. She could feel the unease and anger mingled oozing off his skin like a reddened cloud.
Jayne shook his head miserably, body tight with unused expression, “I can’t be a Pa to no one. Too much not right, broken like.”
“You are fallible, as we all are…” River consciously thought out each word to be as clear as she could. His vibration overwhelmed his ability to hear more.
“Maybe so. Didn’t want no one chasin’ me down after I done messed up with bein’ a Pa.” He chewed the words into curses with inflection alone.
“Trying and failing is what we all do.”
Jayne looked at her bleakly, “I ain’t never wanted it. Got my fill a’ it when I was a boy. Near to raised most a’ my brothers and sisters. Never looked back when I left. Just kept up with Ma and Mattie while they was alive.”
“You will be as you are in all things… he is here, he is…”
Jayne wrestled his hands free, stood up abruptly, crunching a fist against the bulkhead, “I already done lost my temper at him… don’t want ta be that kind a’ Pa. I know what that feels like. Hittin’ and yellin’ fer no reason. Ain’t what I want.” He snarled out as he stalked forth and back.
River reached to him again, brushed a cool hand across his arm as he passed. He stopped, eyes downcast, looking away from her.
“Please… xin li, he is as us… broken, magnificent, fallible… he will need to find his home as we all have. As I have found it here.” She rose and laid her hand against Jayne’s chest, felt the thrum of his heart under her fingers, strong and resolute in life.
He sighed, a shuddering, resigned exhalation. He looked at his petite wife, his center as much as he was hers. His heart quailed at the hope shining in her eyes. They had a son that neither of them ever dreamed of.
“Hope is a waking dream… we have but to accept it.”
~*~
xin li my heart
Hope is but a waking dream Aristotle