Dreaming With A Broken Heart

A/N: Set roughly 5-6 years after the BDM. This is one of the darkest fics I’ve ever written, and has been an extremely intense experience for me; I hope you enjoy it at least a little.


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When you’re dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part…

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It’s been 362 days, 15 hours, 23 minutes and 9 seconds since she left him.

Not that he’s counting.

Jayne makes it through the days as best he can – which isn’t saying too much, judging from the look he always sees on Mal’s face – and in the nights when he’s alone in his bunk he tries harder than ever to stay in control. The control that always seems to fail him sometime around three in the morning, and the overwhelming sense of grief wash over him like a tidal wave that no pier could ever dream of withstanding. There are moments in which he could swear that she is still there with him; he can hear her voice sometimes, speaking to him in the dead hours of the night when he’s on duty. The sound of her bubbling laughter rings out in time to the engine’s steady throb, echoes in the impossible emptiness of his bunk when he climbs down the ladder and closes the hatch. Dreams of her are so vivid and so real, at times he thinks that she has come back to him…when he wakes to find himself still alone, the rush of sorrow is too much and he cannot keep himself from weeping.

Kaylee is gone, and will never come back because she is dead, and he is the one who has killed her.

Mal and Zoë are always the first to tell him that it wasn’t his fault… but he knows that if he hadn’t made her so angry in that stupid fight concerning their plans for Valentine’s Day, of all things, she wouldn’t have left for the junkyard by herself and come between the two soldiers and the man they’d been chasing.

By the time he’d gone to find her and apologize, it was already too late – she had been caught in the crossfire, and the soldiers had left her in a crumpled heap. He’d never thought someone so small could have that amount of blood in them and his clothes were soaked in it as he took her into his arms and begged her not to die, told her that he was sorry and that he loved her. Only a small part of him had been aware that she’d been dead for several minutes before he found her lying there in a pool of her own blood. Jayne had buried his face in Kaylee’s hair and sat with her, unconsciously rocking back and forth, until her body grew cold before picking her up gently and carrying her back to Serenity to lay her down in their bunk. Pulling the blankets up to her chin and hiding the blood made it seem as if she were just sleeping, and he stared down at her for a few minutes before climbing back up the ladder and out to track the men who shot the woman he loved.

The loss of her is like an open wound that is salted each and every time he draws breath – Zoë keeps an eye on him when she thinks he doesn’t see, to make sure he doesn’t do anything unduly stupid, but he could have told her that she is wasting her time. There have been several times when he has thought about taking his own life, but something has always made him stop; not consideration for his own skin, he could care less about dying since that is the only thing he longs for. Jayne simply knows that Kaylee wouldn’t like it, so resolves to bring about his demise in a manner that she might partially approve of. With each job, he is that much more reckless and he doesn’t quite see how much it distresses his fellow crewmates.

Jayne curls up into a ball and stares at the opposite wall of his bunk and the ruffled pink dress, silently willing the hours to slip past and struggling for control on this day of all days – a glance at the chrono tells him that he has only one more day until it is the one year anniversary of her death, and the sounds of the ship’s crew rousing pull him onto his feet to make himself as presentable as he can manage with her voice ringing in his ears. How long’s it been since ya shaved? An’ you’re mighty stinky, big’un. What’ll the ladies think of the pong you’re givin’ off?

“Do I smell that bad?” He sniffs experimentally and finds out that yes, he surely does. After showering and shaving, he dries himself and pulls on clothes. “That better?”

You’ll do, wenshen. Maybe you’ll try to eat somethin’ today?

He promises her that he will, and goes back up the ladder after a final glance at the capture of her that sits beside the bed. “I’m sorry.”

I know it, baby. I know.

True to his promise, he eats nearly all the food River serves him, chewing slowly to get his abused stomach to accept the fare. Their pilot regards him silently before speaking. “She’s close to you, today.”

Jayne sits his mug of tea down and stands to clear the dishes. “She said I smelled.”

“Who said you smelled? Because she was right,” Mal interjects, having caught the tail end of the short conversation.

“Kaylee did,” Jayne says, wondering why the captain is even asking.

Mal blinks and looks elsewhere to compose his startled thoughts at the merc’s increasing instability, reminding himself to have a talk with Zoë. After all, she is the only one aboard who has had any experience with the trauma that Jayne is going through. Should have never allowed those two to bunk together in the first place, he thinks. Knew no good would come of it. Yet Malcolm Reynolds knows that the pair would have had it no other way – once Kaylee and Simon had parted ways and the little mechanic had taken a shine to the big gun-hand, the two had been inseparable. After Miranda, it had done them all good to see the way the loving couple had cared for each other and the ship didn’t seem so empty with the way they had carried on. It had surprised them all to see how hard Jayne fell for Kaylee, and even when they clashed their love for each other made it impossible for them to stay angry. While the big man had always possessed a remarkable level of crudeness, Kaylee had opened up a part of him that Mal wasn’t even sure Jayne had known existed – his devotion to her was total, as if he lived only for her.

With Kaylee gone, Mal worries. Each job is touch-and-go, unpredictable, and he tries to find alternatives to taking Jayne along. He has thought many times of simply letting the merc go, but knows that the instant Jayne steps off the ship he will invariably go somewhere to pick a fight he cannot win. Besides, by now the big man is family and Mal looks out for his own. This new development has shaken him, however – lately Jayne has begun talking to himself; rather, to Kaylee as if she were there. Simon runs tests on the occasions they can persuade Jayne to come to the infirmary, but the doctor has found nothing conclusive beyond the fact that Jayne is hardly eating or sleeping. He puts these thoughts from his mind and instructs the rest of the crew in their duties, reminding them that they have a job the following day to get ready for.

The day passes like any other, but it is with relief mixed with dread that Jayne goes back down into his bunk – their bunk – and checks his guns thoroughly before stripping off his clothes and climbing into the bed. After two hours of staring at the ceiling, sleep comes and with it…dreams.

A touch on his shoulder brings him into wakefulness, and he opens his eyes to see…her. “Kaylee?” he asks incredulously. Joy wells up inside him and he sits up to reach for her; she flings herself into his arms immediately and covers his face with kisses.

“Oh, bao bei – I missed you lots,” she whispers, cuddling close. “Hold me tighter.”

Jayne tightens his hold on her, so full of happiness that he can hardly breathe. “Are ya here for real?” he asks, pulling away from her slightly to cup her face in his large hands. She nods, and he leans close once more to press his lips to hers in a kiss that is full of love and longing. “Wo ai ni, Kaylee. I love you so gorram much…”

She pulls at the blankets covering him. “Make love to me, Jayne… I need ta feel you.” Jayne throws the covers aside and pulls her onto the bed, undressing her slowly and kissing each inch of flesh as it is revealed. Kaylee’s soft murmurs of pleasure urge him on, and it is with intense relief that he buries himself deep within her. They move together urgently, the sounds of their panting breaths and moans filling the air as they strive for release. Kaylee wraps her legs around his waist and sighs out his name when she is close, and Jayne moves inside her almost frantically so that they climax together with commingled cries. “You ain’t lost your touch, that’s for sure,” she pants, still clinging to him as their accelerated heartbeats begin to return to normal.

He nuzzles her, and they curl together on the mattress with fingers interlaced as they talk about all the things lovers discuss. Jayne’s arms tighten around her when she shows signs of fatigue and suggests that they get some sleep. “Don’t think I wanna close my eyes if’n you’re here – you might leave me again.”

“Don’t be silly, quin ai de - I’m always with you.” With a final kiss, she settles her head against his broad chest and closes her eyes for sleep.


Jayne isn’t even aware of falling asleep, but he wakes the next morning with a start. He sits up and looks around the bunk wondering where she is – it is still early, and she wouldn’t have gone far from him since the heating mechanisms have not turned on yet. Out of habit, Jayne glances at the chrono and notes that it has been one year since…since…

“Another ruttin’ dream,” he realizes. A quick look beneath the blankets tells him that he needs another shower and another set of sheets, and he quickly moves to accomplish his tasks before the grief can settle down upon his shoulders anew. Trying to keep his mind blank, he rushes through the shower and barely makes it down the hatch of the bunk before the memories crowd against each other and force their way into his awareness. One year…Kaylee’s dead…never said sorry…too late…my fault… Jayne’s shoulders slam into the wall and he slides down it, unaware of having backed away from the ever present party dress Kaylee had worn all those years ago. She weren’t supposed to die first, weren’t her time – it ain’t right that she’s gone. The anguish is too much, and he is uncaring of the tears that slide down his face and fall to dampen the fabric of his shirt. Up in the corridor, a slim brown hand lays itself on the door to his bunk.

When the recent storm of his ever-present grief runs its course, Jayne washes his face one more and climbs up to see Zoë watching him with an unreadable look on her face. “Does it ever go away?” he asks.

She tilts her head slightly. “No.”

Something moves his feet past her and into the bridge, where he stands and looks out at the stars. Zoë follows and stands next to him, elaborating on her answer. “It gets easier to bear, the longer they’re gone.”

“Don’t think I can do it no more.” His voice catches slightly and he locks the sob inside his chest before it is released and Zoë can think less of him for his weakness. When he finally risks a glance over at her, he is shocked to see the tears standing in her eyes.

“We all miss her, Jayne. It’s right to grieve, especially today.”

She places her hand on his arm, and he sinks slowly into the co-pilot’s seat. “It’s just…she….I...” It is as if a dam breaks, and words he’s never told anyone before burst from him. “We had a fight about where she wanted ta eat dinner, ain’t that the most damn fool thing to fight over? I’d made up food, even found her strawberries…wanted it ta be a surprise, so I told her no when she wanted to go out somewhere. She said I was bein’ a hun dan an’ she didn’t need me tellin’ her what to do, so she left after we fought some more an’ said some go se neither one of us meant. I let her get ahead to cool off some afore I went out to get her, but when I found her, I…there was so much blood. So much,” Jayne is scrubbing his palms against the tops of his thighs in distress. “She went away mad, an’ I never got to say I was sorry.”

Zoë lets him know by her silence that she understands and with a final touch of his shoulder she leaves, thinking of Wash.

They land on Bernadette without incident and everyone but River and Simon climbs onto the Mule to rendezvous with their contact and deliver the goods, several crates of Alliance rations. Something isn’t right, and they feel it as soon as their contact appears with twenty armed men behind him; the mood gets uglier with each passing second, and it is with something approaching relief that Jayne sees one of them pull a gun and demand their money back. Mal tries his best to placate them, to back away without any shots being fired, but the thugs have other ideas. When they are driven back behind an old abandoned warehouse, Jayne has had enough and unzips his coat to lift Vera off the makeshift baldric.

You’re gonna do somethin’ stupid, ain’tcha? Kaylee asks him ruefully.

“I reckon so, baby girl.” He ignores Mal’s startled sideways look and slams a cartridge into the gun.

“What the di yu are you doin’?” the captain hisses at him. “Stay here.”

Jayne glances at him. “We ain’t been paid in weeks, Mal. I ain’t gonna let ‘em take what we earned, wouldn’t be right. Cover me,” he instructs, and is away before Mal can even draw breath for a reply.

Three of them fall almost instantly due to Vera and four more are down, either wounded or dead, before they can react to the big mercenary charging at them. Mal and Zoë fall in behind Jayne automatically, darting behind cover when the bullets start to fly; he nails the leader in the forehead with the small gun he holds in his left hand, and is almost to the discarded box of money when a bullet rips through his shoulder. Another slams into the calf of his leg, and two more find their marks in a thigh as he scoops up the fallen metal box. Pain thrums through his veins and he forces himself to move back towards his companions after taking down two more of the bandits.

Zoë is yelling at him to hurry and although he tries to obey, his movements are sluggish due to blood loss and pain and he is not quick enough to escape the next hail of lead that comes his way and drops him to the hard-packed earth. Mal and Zoë make a desperate rush to him just as River brings Serenity to their aid, scaring their attackers off just as Wash had done years past. The money is safe, but it is quickly apparent that Jayne is not.

You’re nothin’ but trouble, big’un – you know that? Kaylee’s voice asks affectionately as the wind ruffles his hair in a tender caress. Named ya true when I started callin’ ya wenshen.

“I kn….know it,” he gasps out. It is increasingly harder to breathe and although his vision is growing dimmer by the second, there is a brighter disturbance in the air that resolves into the form of the woman he loves more than his own life. Tears well in his eyes at the sight of her - she looks more beautiful than ever – she smiles down at him and kneels by his side to place a hand on his chest. Somewhere above him Zoë is crying, Mal is demanding that he stay with them, and Simon is working to save the life that is steadily leaving his body.

River simply sits beside him and holds his hand, smiling down at him and looking over at Kaylee. “She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” She uses a corner of her skirt to wipe the blood from the corner of Jayne’s mouth. “Won’t be long now. Go in joy.”

Jayne doesn’t hear her, doesn’t see Simon throw his hands up in defeat or even the look of sorrow on his captain’s face. The last of the pain fades. Kaylee waits for him, holding out her hands and smiling. “C’mon, ai ren. Time ta be gone.”

He slowly stands, hands going automatically to the places bullets had pierced. Looking down at himself, he sees that there is no blood, no holes - Jayne looks back up at Kaylee, who is still standing there before him. “This what it’s like?” He stretches out his hands and curls his fingers around hers – her skin is warm, and alive. “I missed you.”

She grins up at him. “I been with ya the whole time.” Kaylee comes into his arms and they hold each other for several long moments before she pulls back and stabs her finger into his chest. “You shoulda been more careful – weren’t your time.”

“Weren’t yours, neither,” he reminds her belligerently. They glare at each other until they both begin to laugh at the absurdity of their argument, and Jayne pulls Kaylee closer into a kiss in which he strives to express all his longing and love for her. “So, what now?” Jayne asks when they finally separate.

“Ya know? I ain’t quite sure…we’ll find out together, I guess,” Kaylee shrugs, slipping underneath his arm to cuddle close and put her arm around his waist. They turn to look back at his body, and Jayne notes with the smallest start of surprise that Wash is standing behind Zoë and Shepherd Book kneels beside Mal, murmuring a prayer that the captain cannot hear. It is odd, looking down at his own dead body lying in the dust – his eyes have been closed by Simon, and his face betrays none of the pain he had felt from his wounds; instead he looks as if he is merely sleeping and his mouth is slightly curved in a smile. “You need a haircut,” Kaylee muses as his eyes meet River’s and she nods at him seriously.

“Does this mean I can have Vera?” The Reader asks impudently.

Jayne glares at her, then relents. “Just don’t paint her pink.”

“What about purple?”

“Or purple.”

“What about-”

“Gorrammit, just leave her be or I’ll haunt yer skinny lil’ pi gu for the next ruttin’ ten years,” he snarls, finally goaded into a display of temper. River laughs at him and he sighs, knowing that he has taken her bait once more. “Take care of ‘em all, Moonbrain.” The three of them know he is talking about more than just his armory, and he turns back to Kaylee. “I’m all yours, for as long as ya want me.”

The tiny mechanic beams up at him, and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss her again. “I think it’ll be a long while afore I’m bored with ya, bao bei.” Her small hand slips into his larger one, and she tugs him off behind her. “You get me anything for Valentine’s Day?”

River smiles after them as she hears Jayne’s bawdy jest of exactly what he has for her, and she dusts her knees off as she stands to help lift his body back on the ship.


~*~END~*~


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This was mostly inspired by “Dreaming with a Broken Heart” by John Mayer.