In the end, it was Inara that caved.

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Inara found herself walking the halls of Serenity at a time when she should have been content to have Mal's arms circling her, his bare chest pressed against her back. This wasn't the first time the secrets swirling around her head had kept her from sleeping soundly and it would surely not be the last.

While discretion was a core requirement of being a Companion, it was not often that the Companion was exposed to the aftermath of such secrets. She was confident at the time that River's choice was hers to make, and Inara had even encouraged her in her choice, but now, now that months had gone by, the ex-Companion was plagued with the burden of not only keeping a well-buried secret but also the burden of witnessing being crew's reactions to the same secret on a daily basis.

In the past Inara hadn't had much reason to feel much else than exasperation, and the occasional disgust, for their resident merc but the past nine months had revealed some sides to Jayne that she was pleasantly surprised to see. She'd watched him grieve the loss of crew, struggle to come to grips from the horror that was Miranda, become overprotective to his crewmates, invest more in the planning of Mal's crazy schemes in what she could only assume to be further proof of his dedication to their safety. And while the others seemed to remain in the dark about it, Inara had watched with an interest as Jayne slowed his incessant complaints about "the Moonbrain" and her highjinx and even began to exhibit behaviors that Inara could only describe as a school-boy crush on the girl.

Stepping across the threshold to the bridge, she wasn't surprised to find Jayne's large body dominating the co-pilot chair. In fact, every night she was up at this ungodly hour, so was Jayne, at least for the last two to three weeks. Some nights she would just tuck herself into the nearby pilot's seat and talk about planets, or about Wash, or about Book. They never talked about crew. Most nights, they just sat there in silence, staring out into the black until one of them would quietly stand and return to their bunk.

By the drawn, expressionless look on Jayne's face, Inara figured it to be one of the silent nights. As her mind began to naturally wander toward that of a certain girl and how she was likely faring, Inara was surprised to hear Jayne's chair turn toward her. His eyes were as dead and dark as the black of space, and Inara was a bit shocked to notice how the worry lines around his eyes had deepened in these short months.

Perhaps it was her awareness of his crush on River that left her feeling more than her fair share of guilt in harboring the girl's secret. Jayne's emotions had seemed all over the map for months but, in all actuality, Inara recognized anticipated stages of grief. Yet, she had been honestly surprised that he hadn't been able to move on yet. The rest of the crew had difficulty adjusting to be sure, but Jayne was stuck somehow.

"Inara?"

His whisper brought her back to moment, to the silence, to the stars and to the void stretching out in front of them. "Yes?"

"I never figured to ask ya' straight out if ya' knew where she was 'cause I figured ya'd never a told me anyhow. But I'm out of options and I don't know what else to do."

Inara's heart squeezed in her chest for him. Jayne, their big, tough, crude merc seemed so broken. His voice seemingly being pushed through unheard sobs deep in his chest. His depression was so severe and so obvious at this late hour. For the first time, it occurs to her that she may have misjudged the depth of Jayne's feelings for River. In fact, had it been anyone else but Jayne, she would have sworn that the man sitting next to her was heartbroken.

"What are you asking me, Jayne?"

His blue eyes lifted and stared at her with such an intensity that she felt a bit of worry crawl up her spine. He sighed deeply and returned his eyes to the black. "Inara, ya' ever think on why I'm up here every night, staring off into the black?"

"Well, I guess not. Not really. I have a few suspicions but, no, I can't say I know why you are here, and I hadn't realized it was every night."

Jayned sighed again and shifted in his seat to look over at her. "I sit here, every night, in her seat, and look out to the black that she loved so gorram much. Bet ya' didn't know I used ta let her float around out there when her troubles got to cloggin' her brain too much," he smiled slightly. "I sit here every night, tryin' to suss out why she left and where in the 'verse she coulda gone," he paused, straing at his hands in his lap. "But I ain't a ruttin' genius like she is and I ain't been able to get the answers I'm a needin'. I've asked everyone onboard, both using niceness and threats. Even tried to bribe Simon but he looked just as lost as I felt and figured ya' can't fake that." his voice trailed off. "Seems the girl really just up and disappeared."

She felt his eyes return to her, not with veiled threats or underlying anger but with sheer desperation. "But I ain't asked you yet. I ain't asked ya'straight, And now I gotta ask. I gotta know. I gotta know where she is."

Inara could barely breathe for the swell of Jayne's despair crashing over in waves. "Jayne, it was River's choice to leave. It's her choice to stay away. It's not my secret to keep."

Jayne must have heard something in her voice, in her words, because he instantly dropped to his knees at her feet. "Please 'Nara. I can't not know." She felt his huge hands gently rest on her knees. "I can't not know and it's killin' me."

She placed her palm gently against Jayne's cheek, wiped away the single tear that dared escape his eyes. She angled her head to the ceiling, took a deep breath, and caved. How could she not.