Autumn Flower (A Ficlet)
Autumn Flower
By Z. Jayne
A Ficlet for Rini. She knows why.
Warnings: BDM spoilers. If you haven't seen Serenity (Shame on You!!!) Leave now, or swim out in a pool of your own blood.
Words: 264
“C’mon, little man, wake up.”
Here lies Zoe...my Autumn Flower
She stood behind Jayne, like a ghost, her heart somewhere in her throat. At least she would assume that's where it was, but she couldn't make herself feel. There was only a sense of nothingness. The nothingness that ran down her skin like rain, or like kisses that would never be pressed there again. The nothingness that seemed to constrict her lungs, which took her breath away quicker than charging down a hill when twenty Alliance Snipers were gunning for her. A nothingness at the edge of the Black that stared her hard in the eyes until she felt the world give away.
Somewhat less attractive, now that she's all corpsified and gross.
She'd hit him with a pillow, and then he'd...
He was just sitting there, and it all seemed like a blur. One moment, he was talking, they were breathing. The next.
She had wanted to go with him. She would have let them taken her, and she would have felt nothing. They'd already killed her, and the dead don't feel, only Jayne wouldn't let her go. Just as he wasn't letting go now.
Finally, her boots fell across the small space of the cockpit and she wedged herself between the Mercenary and her husband. The empty husk of what had been her husband, and her fingers drifted across his brow, tucking away an errant golden lock.
The next moment, he was a leaf on the wind, and she was a fading autumn flower.
"Look, Zoe..."
She looked at Jayne.
Jayne looked away.
And somewhere in between, they came to an understanding..
By Z. Jayne
A Ficlet for Rini. She knows why.
Warnings: BDM spoilers. If you haven't seen Serenity (Shame on You!!!) Leave now, or swim out in a pool of your own blood.
Words: 264
“C’mon, little man, wake up.”
Here lies Zoe...my Autumn Flower
She stood behind Jayne, like a ghost, her heart somewhere in her throat. At least she would assume that's where it was, but she couldn't make herself feel. There was only a sense of nothingness. The nothingness that ran down her skin like rain, or like kisses that would never be pressed there again. The nothingness that seemed to constrict her lungs, which took her breath away quicker than charging down a hill when twenty Alliance Snipers were gunning for her. A nothingness at the edge of the Black that stared her hard in the eyes until she felt the world give away.
Somewhat less attractive, now that she's all corpsified and gross.
She'd hit him with a pillow, and then he'd...
He was just sitting there, and it all seemed like a blur. One moment, he was talking, they were breathing. The next.
She had wanted to go with him. She would have let them taken her, and she would have felt nothing. They'd already killed her, and the dead don't feel, only Jayne wouldn't let her go. Just as he wasn't letting go now.
Finally, her boots fell across the small space of the cockpit and she wedged herself between the Mercenary and her husband. The empty husk of what had been her husband, and her fingers drifted across his brow, tucking away an errant golden lock.
The next moment, he was a leaf on the wind, and she was a fading autumn flower.
"Look, Zoe..."
She looked at Jayne.
Jayne looked away.
And somewhere in between, they came to an understanding..