NOTES: Wow, so, it's been forever and six days since I've updated this. And I'm sure that no one is even reading anymore but I have to finish this. It's been niggling at me for the past year and a half despite my entirely too busy schedule. So, even if it's just me reading this thing, it's something that I definitely have to finish up.

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Mal brought Serenity down down on an outcropping of rock far enough away from where the Alliance was digging in that they were safe from enemy fire. Down below them, their own troops were already digging in, turning up the rocks in the soil on their shovels. Smart boys, they were pushing all the rocks up around the holes they were digging. Just what Mal himself had done all those years ago.

Trying anything to keep the Alliance from blowing their fool heads off. He weren't half as good as River and he wasn't stupid enough to think that he could touch Wash. The ship was hidden best as he could, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that they wouldn't see it if they were looking for it. But he had to hope that maybe they wouldn't be looking for it.

They were leaving Simon a sitting duck. Sticking a gun in his hand and leaving him because there wasn't anything else he reckoned that they could do. It'd be worse to have him down in the trench with them and there weren't any sympathizing moons anywhere close enough to Hera to leave him.

Mal felt like the whole weight of the 'verse was bending his shoulders to breaking. But it figured he would be, he'd left Serenity Valley years and years ago but Serenity Valley had never left him. It didn't leave Zoe neither and he figured that maybe it never left none of them who got out with their lives. His hands loose around Serenity's yoke, he bent his head down until his hair was brushing the control panel. Serenity's belly was full of young boys, waiting to die with their boots strapped on tight. Lil' Kaylee and 'Nara down there with them, holding guns in their shaking hands. And it weren't right but there weren't nothing he could do about it.

Not now, anyway.

Sighing, he pulled himself out of the chair. Wash's dinosaurs were still covering the dash, River's good luck charms, he guessed. Not that they'd brung her or Wash much in that respect.

%%%

His arms and legs felt heavy, like they were made out of lead. It took him a good five minutes to force his eyes open. He was buried underneath a heap of what had once been the Deadwood, now it reminded him of so much scrap metal. Twisted hunks of it, weighing him down.

Panic shot through Jayne, quick and hot as any one of his knives. "Girl!" he bellowed. The last thing he remembered was them falling, straight out of the sky.

Using whatever was left of his strength, Jayne wrenched himself free. His body was cut up and bruised, shot threw more than once, but he was standing and he guessed that that was enough. It was enough for now. "Girl!" using what must have been the very last of his strength, he picked his way through what was left of the Deadwood. Best he could figure, the ship must have come apart falling through atmo.

Jayne did a quick mental inventory, he hurt like hell. His head was pounding and he thought that maybe there was more dried blood on the outside of his body than there was inside of his body. But he was breathing and that had to count for something.

Now, he had to find the girl. He wondered, briefly, how much of her there was left to find. He was an ornery old man and maybe it would take more than a crashing on some gou shi planet to kill him. But the girl, she was soft and malleable and she weren't nearly as tough and pig headed as he was.

He'd always said he was too stubborn to die. He was beginning to wonder just how true that was.

His hands were bleeding, fingers a raw and torn up mess from peeling back layer after layer of burnt up metal. Pulling off what was left of the t-shirt on his back, he split it into two and hastily wrapped up his hands. The fabric felt like it was rubbing him raw, but it was better than nothing.

He'd been digging around for what felt like hours, but maybe it had only been minutes, when he found her hand, poking up out of the mess. Jayne's stomach clenched up into knots and he squeezed his eyes shut when he heaved up the piece of the control panel that was covering her and tossed it to the side. It took him a minute to pry his eyes back open, scared that maybe when he looked down he'd still just see a hand. That maybe all he was doing out here was finding enough pieces of her to give her a proper burial.

But when he opened his eyes, the girl was laying there, cut up and looking for all the world like she'd been put through a meat grinder. Lifting her up, her body felt like there weren't any bones left in it. She was limp, her head dipping down so low over his arm that her hair brushed the ground.

"Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai," Jayne cursed. He weren't Simon, he didn't know a spit of nothing about doctoring nobody and the girl looked like she needed more than a couple of bandages and a few days rest.

With fingers that felt too big and clumsy, he felt around at the base of her neck until he could make out a pulse. It was slow and a little thready but it was there. And that was enough for him, for now. He needed to get her as far from the wreckage as he could, but he could barely keep his self on his feet. It was sure to have drawn some attention and he didn't even know where they were, let alone who's attention it would have drawn. Alliance, Independence or something else entirely. For all Jayne knew, they could have crash landed themselves on a planet crawling with Reavers and by sun up they'd both be dead anyways.

%%%

Mal squared up his shoulders, he knew he had to pull himself up by the bootstraps. There was a boat load of boys down there that were looking to him for the answers. And he had to give them one, right or wrong. He had to believe enough that it was right to convince them. To convince Kaylee and 'Nara that they were all doing the right thing following him into war.

Running the palms of his hands down his face, Mal felt like he'd aged twenty years in the last week. His clothes felt too heavy, like they were pushing his body down to the floor. Everything felt too heavy.

Just two years ago, he'd have said things were as good as they could get. He'd have said that there was no way he would be setting foot back on Hera soil or that he'd be wearing the Independence colors into war again. Would have said no way he'd be putting a gun into lil' Kaylee's hands and marching her along with him. Wouldn't have even begun to think that things would end like this.

And there wasn't a doubt in his mind that things would end.