The next morning, Jayne threw up.

When Kaylee hurried from her bunk to check on him, she was startled nearly to tears by what she saw. His toilet was out, and he was half sitting half lying before it. His knuckles had gone white with the grip he kept on the seat, and his arms trembled with the effort of holding himself over it. His face was waxy pale. The smell in his room was beyond rancid, and Kaylee felt herself get a bit queasy. She half collapsed onto the comm. and cried “Simon, Jayne’s sick!” and hurried toward him. An imminent reaction was to feel his forehead. He was burning up, and Kaylee felt panic begin washing over her. She tugged at his arm, hoping to close up the toilet, he held tight. “Jayne.” She said, softly, “Jayne, let go.” He didn’t budge. Kaylee stood, trembling. Being who he was, she was surprised Jayne was so organized. There was a small glass in an alcove near his sink which she grabbed and filled with cool water. Dropping back to her knees, she offered it to him. “Jayne…” his eyes were unfocused. “Rinse your mouth out, please.”

Jayne grumbled, something that sounded like “I ain’t swore today, ma.” But he took the glss, and collapsed against the corner between the sinks wall and the adjoining one, where he downed the water and dropped the glass. Kaylee started to close up the toilet, but Jayne suddenly lunged forward, the water he’d just had coming imminently back up. Kaylee felt a little ill herself, queasy and terrified. She’d never seen Jayne like this…barley able to support the weight of his own upper body.

Suddenly, Simon was behind her, softly telling her to step away. She did, quickly. Simon checked Jayne over: Looked into his eyes, took his pulse, all sorts of doctorey-things that Kaylee tried to watch but from her position several feet away using the wall to keep herself standing, couldn’t. She saw Simon’s face for a moment, and it didn’t put her at ease. “Jayne.” She heard him say. His tone startled her, Simon never spoke gently to Jayne…never