Mal worried about Jayne moving around so much. The man had started losing color and going weak, when he should have been getting stronger. It was easy to believe that Jayne’s rapid weight drop and loss of appetite was due to him not working out twenty-four hours a day, but Mal feared the worse and wished fiercely that he still had a medic on board. Mal had a notion that something inside was bleeding or ruptured or wreaking some kind of havoc. He kicked himself for paying so much for that medical scanner and handing it over to Simon without learning how to use it himself. He should’ve known that one day he’d need to know how it worked. He stayed up late now, alternating between the instruction manual for the thing and the medical texts, but it was just too much to teach himself what he was seeing on that gorram monitor – even when it was scanning his own hand. Mal had taken Simon’s presence for granted, thinking that if he just kept the Doc safe, he’d have him until they were both old and gray. He should’ve spent a few hours learning from Simon. He should’ve spent more time getting to know the boy. He should’ve… Unbidden, a tear rolled out of Mal’s eye and off the tip of his chin. He turned his head to hide it, but Inara must have been watching him because she placed a hand on his arm almost immediately. It was just the one tear that fell, and it surprised Mal that it came at all. “She’ll be okay,” Inara said softly. He looked over at her, dressed plainly in a flowy shirt and pants she’d clearly borrowed from Zoë. Inara tended to dress plainer these days, partly because she didn’t have much of a choice, but mostly because a Companion walking into a rimworld hospital would cause too much of a stir. But even when she toned things down, she stood out. At least she did to Mal. They were waiting in the brightly lit hospital hallway. Jayne was two flights up getting a proper medical scan, Kaylee was behind the closed door across from them. She’d been fussy and weepy all morning and he’d had his arm around her the whole ride to the hospital. He felt cold without her there now. On seeing the combination of her emotional and medical state, the doctor had looked at Mal and thought the worse – that they were abusive slave traders or the like. Mal couldn’t blame the man, because he would’ve assumed the same. The best way to assuage the situation seemed to be standing out in the hall long enough for the doctor to trust they were telling the truth. Inara had been pacing maddeningly, because she wasn’t accustomed to not being trusted. Mal had been leaning against the wall, brooding, up until the tear fell. Now Inara was next to him, one hand laced in his, the other on his elbow. She wasn’t afraid to cling to him now, in public places or not. He didn’t like it, mostly because her intentions were not as clear, simple, and innocent as Kaylee’s would be in the same maneuver. Sometimes he wondered if he was reading into things that weren’t there. Inara never spoke plain to him, it seemed. But the way she rubbed his arm encouragingly at the moment, he figured she was just worried about Kaylee and thought he was too. For some reason, he felt the need to correct this. “It’s not that,” he choked, unexpectedly having to push past some swallowed tears as well. “I was thinking on something else.” Inara squeezed his hand encouragingly and then leaned against the wall next to him, staring at the closed door, thankfully letting the subject drop. Mal wasn’t quite sure why he kept talking. “I never shed a tear for Simon before,” he confessed. Mal dropped his chin, which unfortunately gave momentum to the next tear that rolled out and down the bridge of his nose. Quickly he wiped away the tear streak with his sleeve as the door across the hall tipped open and the doctor peeked out. “You can come in now.” Mal and Inara dropped hands, heading into the room. It was small, bright, and filled with pictures of growing babies, models, and one very uninviting examination table. Kaylee stood against the back wall, facing sideways as if talking to someone next to her, and picking at her fingernails. Mal went and stood opposite of her so all she’d have to do is look up to see him. “You okay, mei mei?” “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice hoarse. “It ain’t fun trying to convince someone your husband is dead.” She took his hand, and Mal held on, secure in the simple meaning of the gesture. “I don’t suppose it is.” “I don’t believe it my own self most days.” “You gonna let the doctor check you out now?” Kaylee shook her head, keeping her eyes averted. “No kicking and screaming,” Mal warned, alluding to their deal, to which Kaylee smiled anemically. “Is Jayne back?” “He’s upstairs getting checked out. I imagine we’ll get done first, then we can go and see him.” Mal had noticed Jayne and Kaylee starting to lean on each other in the same way he and Zoë did. It was easier to see with Jayne being injured. Less one-sided, that is. Kaylee didn’t tease him mercilessly about being helpless, so Jayne could lean on her without being weak. Unspoken dignity was always a first sign. They’d only had sex the one time (that he knew of) and even that had not screwed things up. But then, both of them had always been more lax about physical contact than he and Zoë had ever been. “He’ll come next time,” Kaylee said, more to herself than to Mal. Slowly her eyes lifted to meet his. “I’m glad you’re here.” Finally, she pushed herself from the wall, hopped on the exam table, and rolled up her shirt for the scan. Kaylee had taken a firm interest in heartbeats ever since her husband's had ceased unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Mal knew it for a fact in the way she hugged him, resting her ear right over his heart. When the heartbeat of her little baby appeared on the monitor, Mal felt his own heart somersault, and he looked eagerly to see Kaylee’s expression. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips pressed closed, her chin tilted up and away, like a kid trying to avoid a spoon full of cough syrup. “Kaylee, open your eyes,” Inara whispered excitedly, taking Kaylee’s hand. Kaylee shook her head, keeping her eyes pressed shut. “Is there sound?” Mal asked, pointing at the beating heart. “Can we hear?” The doctor made a few adjustments and soon the room filled with a steady pulse of a tiny heart. Mal felt his heart flip-flopping again. Kaylee’s eyes shot open and all denial and resistance drained out of her. She gripped Inara’s hand more firmly, then slowly turned her head and touched the screen. “Simon,” she murmured breathlessly, her fingers ghosting over the flicker of the beating heart. A relaxed smile fell across her features as she traced the outline of the baby who was happily sucking his thumb. She looked back at Mal awestruck – the same face she had when Serenity was working just so. “I have a baby.” Mal smiled down at her. “That you do.”

*~*

Kaylee kept replaying the capture in her hands as they walked up the stairs to find Jayne. She was beaming radiantly, her hand occasionally going to her belly trying to feel the baby move. Inara had another bag filled with nutrition supplements, information packs, and other tidbits the doctor had given to hold them over until they hit dirt again. Mal had a secret second copy of the sonogram tucked into his coat, because he knew Kaylee would wear out the first one watching it too much. He kept half a step behind the women, more out of habit than anything else. When on a job, he kept ahead; when walking about town, he kept behind. It was a protector’s position. Not that he expected gunplay in the middle of a hospital. Although with Jayne, one could never be too sure. When they exited the stairwell, Mal surveyed the closed layout of the fourth floor. Bright, sterile. Long, wide hallways with shining tiles. The nurse’s station doubled as a reception desk, as patients were technically ‘received’ on the first floor. Mal took a lead stride toward the desk, noting that Kaylee had finally put down the capture to pay attention to where she was going. “Is Jayne Cobb done yet?” he asked succinctly, not even bothering with pleasantries. He’d found them completely wasted when he first brought Jayne up here and Jayne had mouthed off crassly to the entire staff. The woman behind the desk acknowledged him boredly, checking her computer. “He’s been taken up to six.” “Six?” Mal repeated. “Was the scanner on this floor too small to fit him?” The woman crinkled her brow. “No, sir, he’s in surgery. Weren’t you told?” Kaylee gasped behind him and he felt her gripping his coat. Mal stood motionless, not betraying emotion one way or the other. He’d expected the doctors to find something wrong, but hadn’t expected them to rush Jayne into surgery. They hadn’t left him here more than half an hour! “We were not told,” he said evenly. “What is the diagnosis?” The woman shook her head again, confused that Mal didn’t already know all of this. “I’m sorry, sir, are you family?” “I’m his Captain. I’m responsible for his medical care.” “I’m sorry, sir. But I can’t divulge medical treatments to –” “Perhaps you don’t understand, miss. By responsible, I mean I’m payin’ for this surgery. So I’d sure as hell like to know why you’re cuttin’ on my man.” Inara placed a restraining hand on his arm and Mal shrugged it off. He always hated when she tried to order him around. Especially in situations like this. He resented even more when she stepped up next to him and commanded control of the conversation. “We would like to speak to the doctor in charge,” Inara said authoritatively. “He will take us to the observation deck so we can watch the surgery.” The woman raised an eyebrow at Inara, then sent out a page through the hospital PA system. Mal stood straighter, though he wasn’t as tense as he thought he would be. Inara was clearly experienced in dealing with proper hospitals, and she had that superior, moneyed attitude that commanded respect in such settings. Although he wanted to resent her for stepping in, all he felt were intrigue and excitement. This wasn’t the clingy, weak Inara that wept on his shoulder. This was the strong, confident Inara who didn’t take crap from anyone! Standing next to her, Mal felt like they’d just beaten down ten men in a brawl and walked off with their cash. The doctor came and spoke to them in words that Mal didn’t really understand and it made him miss Simon all the more. He and Simon had developed a rapport when it came to explaining problems without medical jargon. Best he could figure is that whatever it was would’ve been fine if it had been treated immediately – if Simon had been around. But because it was left untreated, and probably because Jayne had been walking around the last day and a half, it had become something serious. When the doctor finally left them in the observation deck, Mal radioed Zoë to tell her not to rush back. The surgery would probably take another two hours. Inara gazed firmly through the vertical blinds, watching the team of surgeons all shrouded in blue scrubs, digging around in Jayne’s gut. Kaylee paced, arms folded tightly across her middle, occasionally peeking through the blinds and looking ready to wretch every time. Mal leaned against the back wall, having no interest in watching. In fact, he wanted to get out of the hospital altogether and run around town picking up supplies with Hawk and Zoë. He wanted to be fixing up Serenity, setting up their next job, or working out the bookkeeping to see if they could afford this gorram surgery without starving to death. Mal hated waiting. That was a fact. And he wouldn’t be waiting here at all if his ship still had a gorram medic! “Captain?” Kaylee whispered. Startled out of his brooding, Mal looked down at little Kaylee. She was leaning against the wall next to him, looking intently at his face. It wasn’t until then he noticed the dampness of his own cheek, and he wiped it away quickly. “What is it mei mei?” “Is Jayne gonna die?” Mal looked over to the glass window. He’d angled himself so that the blinds obscured most of his view and all he could really see was a little bit of movement in the room beyond. Then he looked back at Kaylee and shook his head, confidently. “No, they’ll fix him up right nice. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.” “Then why are you crying?” “I ain’t crying.” Kaylee wrapped her arms around him and snuggled up against his shoulder like she’d been all morning. Only this time, she was the one giving him strength, and he couldn’t stop the next tear that rolled down his cheek and splashed lightly on the top of her head. Kaylee graciously ignored it, and hugged him a little tighter. Mal couldn’t rightly explain where the tears were coming from. Best he could reason was Simon. If Simon hadn’t died, River wouldn’t have either, and Jayne wouldn’t be lying gutted on this yu ben de hospital table while they all twiddled their thumbs and watched. Mal took a few deep breaths, letting the air coursing through his lungs dry his soul of any tears. Kaylee stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly, making him smile. Then she leaned her head against his chest again and sighed wistfully. “I wish Simon were here.” “I do too,” Mal agreed, squeezing her across the shoulders. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

*~* * * Post A.N.: I don’t know that Mal is the crying type, but it just came out that way and I couldn’t stop him. I’m telling you, once you get the man started, it’s like opening a flood gate. He pours all the grief of his whole past into it, because he knows his opportunity for getting it out is limited. Really, it wrote itself, and once it was there, I couldn’t delete. Only spell check.

Heavy Laden Heart