Two Powerful Words

Two words were all he needed to say. "Don't go."

He knew this, yet he couldn't make his lips form the words and he couldn't put voice to them. Instead he watched from the doorway of her shuttle, out of sight, as she packed, and he mourned her absence before she had even left.

"Don't go."

Two words. Two powerful words.

He pulled away and made himself some tea in the mess for the distraction of it; it tasted horrible. Pouring it down the sink, he wondered.

How would everything be after she left? Would it be as bitter as his drink? Was he throwing away something that was more than just a bad taste at the back of his throat?

More importantly, why was it so difficult to say those two words?

"Don't go."

They held a power that no other words had. They could make her change her mind. They could make Inara stay. Only, they won't come out. It's like there is an invisible force clamping a hand over his mouth, or a paralysing agent moving through his system while he remains an unmoving lump of worthlessness.

"Don't go."

He wants to tell her it, but instead he holds back and keeps watching her and wondering, and he beats himself up about not having the nerve to share with her how he feels.

Dumb arse. Two other powerful words.

Jayne would say them to him if he could see what he was doing – and Jayne would be right. That's what he is. But even knowing that, he is frozen. And Inara is leaving and she's taking a bit part of him with her, without even knowing it.