Shades of the Past – Chapter Twenty-one

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The first thing Jayne was aware of was that death was loud. Very loud.

And painful. He hurt all over. As he struggled to open his eyes, do I still got eyes? he groaned.

“Simon!” he heard a familiar voice cry. “Simon, he moved! He made noise!”

Jayne tried to lever himself up and see what the yelling was about. Didn’t people respect the dead anymore? Man oughta have some dignity when he died. And some quiet for that matter.

He managed to pry one eye open, and immediately shut it when the light made his head throb. He groaned again, and gave it another try, opening his eyes slowly.

“Well, now,” he heard a voice say, and turned to see Simon looking down at him. “Do you know where you are?” Simon asked.

“I’m in hell,” Jayne muttered. “If this was heaven, someone prettier than you would be askin’ me that.” Simon laughed.

“Can’t argue with that, but fact is you aren’t there either. You’re in the infirmary, on board the ship.”

“See?” Jayne replied. “Like I said. Hell.” He lay back, suddenly tired from the effort. “I see I can’t even die right.”

“Well, you tried, I’ll give you that,” Simon assured him. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the best, I’d give it a strong eight. When the bomb went off, it apparently slammed you into the hull. You have a concussion, and four cracked ribs, but other than that, and some ugly bruising, you’re fine. Overall, you were extremely lucky.”

“I suppose if they ain’t your ribs what’s cracked, and head that’s poundin’ it’d seem like that,” he groused. Sounding, Simon thought, remarkably like Mal.

“Yes, well, I can see where that would be the case,” Simon nodded. “Jayne, I want to say thank you. You saved us, you know. Saved the ship.”