Author's Note: Ok, so I reheard the Real Folk Blues again, today, for the first time in ages. It reminded me of all of the pain and angst that was present in Spike, so I want to make this quite angst-ridden and despairing really. It's an AU. It takes place the night Faye and Ed both leave, but before the Real Folk Blues.

As always, I don't own Cowboy Bebop.

Just a dream

Chapter I

There were times when Spike found it hard to live. Breathing would feel like such a pointless activity and all he could think about was the feeling of not having Julia with him. Sometimes when this happened, he fell asleep and dreamt of Julia. Other times, he went to bed thinking about something else and dreamt of Julia, waking up with that burning ache in his heart and that sinking feeling in his gut. It was one of those nights this night. He had dreamt of Julia – that Julia had died, that Annie had died, and that both he and Vicious had died. And he had woken up feeling relieved, only for that to be replaced by that painful, endless yearning that he had had since he had last seen Julia.

In times like these, breaking down in tears was more than inadequate. It would do nothing to ease the pain. Going out and nearly dying felt meaningless, because he would still be alive afterwards, with the same ache, sometimes dull and sometimes sharp. Shouting at Jet meant nothing, because who was Jet compared to Julia anyway? And he never even thought about Faye because why would he think about her? Nothing would work to dull his ache, so he would try and bear it, because that was all he could do.

So tonight, when he woke up, trying desperately to catch something of Julia's – her smell, the touch of her hair, her smile, anything – and when he captured nothing of Julia's, he felt that familiar, all-consuming pain gripping him. He tried to lie down and just wait it out. It would eventually become duller, until he went back to that familiar background pain that he always felt.

He thought about that dream – the despair he had felt when he had seen her die, when he had felt her die in his arms, as her last breath left her. It hurt too much to think about that. It hurt much too much to think about her if he could help it. He thought instead about Vicious. That empty look in his eyes, it had looked much like despair too. Miserable, despairing, cruel – yes, these words described Vicious well. He thought about how he had felt in his dream, as he had killed Vicious finally. He had felt as if a burden had lifted from his shoulders. He had felt like it was the end. The final end – the point where he wouldn't return, and it almost had been the end. As he had felt himself dying in his dream, he had woken up to this familiar hell.

He thought about Julia. He always thought about Julia. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always returned to Julia. It was Julia. Of course they would return to her. Why hadn't he run away with her? What had been the point of returning to fight Vicious? Even as he was lying in his bed, he shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear some fog. There had been something – he couldn't remember what. The choice had made sense to him in the dream, even if it didn't now. What had it been? Maybe that could show him a way out of this hell? No. He just couldn't remember what it had been.

He realised suddenly that he wasn't feeling hungry. For once, there had been more than enough food to go around. Eggs – the ones that Ed's father had given them. It had been enough to fill all of them. All of them being Jet and himself, because Faye and Ed, and even Ein had gone. He thought he would think about them instead, because this sharp pain made his throat hurt from feeling like he was being throttled by tears.

He wondered where Ein was, and then wondered how he could ask such a stupid question. Ein was with Ed. Where else would Ein be? He thought about Ed, and wondered where she was now. He found himself feeling glad that Ein had gone with Ed. At least it would provide Ed with some protection. Ein was pretty smart for a dog, after all. He thought about Ed and Faye. Ok, so the dog was smarter than kids and wenches too. His lips twitched at the sides, and he recognised the sharp pain as being much duller. It made it easier to continue breathing. It didn't make breathing worthwhile but he could continue breathing without wanting to stop now.

His mind went back to Ed. Where was she? Why had she left? Some more questions without answers, so he tried to stop thinking about them. His mind instead turned towards Faye, and he felt a familiar irritation overcoming him, even as he merely thought about her. Where was the damn wench? How long was she going to be gone for this time? He thought about the last time he saw her. She had apologised. That memory brought a sort of sinking feeling to his stomach – nowhere near as painful as the feeling Julia gave him but it wasn't pleasant either. It was remarkably out of character of Faye to apologise and he felt like there was some importance attached to that apology. He felt like he was missing something – some piece of the puzzle that was that shrew, but he didn't really care about it. It was just a distraction – something to lessen the perpetual pain that he felt. But she was making him sleepy – he could feel his eyelids getting heavier and he let his eyes close. At least in the dreams, he could smell Julia and feel Julia and watch Julia.

Sleep overtook Spike whilst Faye continued staring at the sky. She looked at the stars and the broken moon; fragments of lost souls drifting like her, or so she thought. It was a horribly miserable night, and she felt like she had died. She had lost her hope, her innocence. She had most definitely lost faith that there was anything good out here, in this new world that she had never belonged to. Better that she should have died in that accident, all those years ago. Yes, that would have been much better. It would have been less frightening and it wouldn't make her feel the anguish she had felt for every single day of the last three years and more. What life was worth living, if it was full of anguish?

As she watched the stars and the broken moon, she let memories wash over her; familiar memories that she had forgotten for so many years. She let the emotions overwhelm her completely, submerging her entire soul into whatever memory was replaying itself in her mind, the emotions wilting from pain to happiness to hope and back to despair. She let one memory after another take over her. She didn't know what else she could do. What else was there to do? Every memory was as painful as any other.

She bit her bottom lip and continued to gaze blindly at the excruciating sight of the modern mood and she continued to let the memories take over her. It was all she could do tonight. It was all she had ever been able to do. Just for one night, she told herself. She lied to herself. She knew it wouldn't be for just one night. It would be for every night hereafter. It would be everyday hereafter. Whether she wanted to or not, she would replay these memories and it would remind her of all that she had lost and all that she could never regain. It would remind her of why life wasn't worth living, and what could she do about it?

She could feel her eyes slowly getting heavier. It was about time. She didn't know how long she had been there, staring at the sky but it had been for longer than she had wanted, much longer. Dreams were a refuge and she was in desperate need of a refuge tonight. So she welcomed sleep with open arms, inviting it to take over her. And she fell asleep with the hope that the future wouldn't look so bleak tomorrow. She didn't really believe it but she pretended to. The future couldn't look bleaker, in any case.

Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. Please review it, whether you enjoyed it or not. It's the only way I know I'm doing something right or something wrong.