Music Box
The rain beet down, Spike's cigarette burning down to the filter, then parting with him to join several others around his feet. Sighing he pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck, cold droplets running down his spine he separated from the wall. He made his way down the gray street, kicking the occasional puddle. Spike had no destination. He was lost, Julia was dead, and it was the pursuit her that gave him the drive to maintain his life. Now that she was gone he might as well be dead, just as most of his former acquaintances thought he was. There was Jet, and the untouchable shrew women Faye back on the Bebop, along with the Ed, the child hacker and her dog Ein, but they meant little to him, just company in his life after death.
He passed through the town alone, the streets empty of all life, beaten back me the weather and the earlier gunshots. His old life was gone, his new one in the process of following it predecessor. He stopped, gazing up at the gray sky. The heavy drops splattering against his face as he squinted in to the heavy cloud cover. Smooth, constant. Appearing older than time, although as young as the man looking up at it.
Viscous.
Viscous was the only thing left of Spike's past. The former friend that had destroyed the lives of so many in pursuit of his vision. He had seen the flaws in the old men's leader ship. He saw a new way of running the Scarlet Dragon. His heart would have made them an unstoppable and superior authority, through all know space. But the Old Men would not give him the power to change things, so he tried to over throw them. Spike and Julia had been victims in his struggle for power; both of them had fled assumed dead by all. But now, upon the same day they became reunited, she was gone again. But this time Spike wouldn't meet her again one rainy day, because the second time through she really was dead and nothing could reverse her passing. But he was still alive. He was the one who caused every thing. Julia would have been alive now, at his side, her heart beating, the warmth of her body taking some of edge off the cold, if not for him. Spike's brow wrinkled, the corners of his lips turning down in anger. His hate for Viscous was indescribable... but some how...
Spike breathed his name in to the air. But the trio had been such good friends. Julia had loved him, and he her... and he had loved him, for a time. No, they had loved each other. Spike sighed, gazing in to the blurry refection on the wet road. He had loved Viscous, more than he had loved any one, but Vicious could only see the future he wanted for the Dragon and love could never shove those dreams aside. And it was his pursuit of a better life is what destroyed everything. Spike closed his eyes. He felt empty, because the Viscous he had loved was as unattainable as Julia. He cursed to him self, because he did feel dead now. No one from his former life knew of his existence, Viscous gone, Julia and Anne dead, every one else thinking him dead. He was the living dead, a corpse that some how managed to move, unsatisfied with the grave.
Although he was now free of the syndicate, so much of Spike's life was tightly bound to it, and he often felt it would be impossible to have a real life after being so heavily involved in it. But with Julia dead, he didn't have a life with or with out the syndicate. Viscous was all that was left of his old life. It was Vicious who had destroyed every thing! He told him self that over and over but...
He loved Vicious, and he couldn't stop.
Spike cursed him self under his breathe. What a fool he was to hold such feelings in his heart. Vicious was a different person now, a cold one that had sent the people to kill Julia, to kill him. He walked a little farther, stopping in front of Julia's old apartment complex. He looked up at the window for the apartment he had entered when he told he was leaving the syndicate. He sighed and entered the building with a troubled mind.
After a long flight of stairs and a dim hallway he reached the apartment he
Was looking for. The door was unlocked, which surprised him at first, but then he remembered that the entire building seemed to have been widely vacant for years. He pushed open the door and saw that same table, the glass sculpture of a fish, the vase full of dead and brown roses, their heads bent in the morning of their past glory. As his eyes past over the rest of the room he saw some thing he had never seem before. He pulled his gun as he saw Viscous standing by the window, looking sadly at the tiny little music box in his hands. Spike's hands where shaking as he approached the grim gray haired figure.
The music box's song ended and Spike stood only a few feet from Viscous, the gun rattling in his hands aimed at his chest. Viscous looked up at spike an old sorrow painted across his face.
"Viscous, you bastard..."
Viscous cast his eyes down but said nothing.
"You killed her..." Spikes voice cracked and hot tears can to his eyes, "And you would have me dead, too!"
"Spike..." He raised his eyes again, slowly extending an arm to touch his face.
Spike recoiled, taking a step backwards, "Why, Viscous... She loved you once... and..." his grip loosened on the gun, "So did I..."
Viscous stepped forward, coming so close the gun almost touched his chest, "I still do, Spike..."
"What are you saying?" He asked, his voice trembling as his heart beat quickened.
"I'm still in love with you, Spike..." He came closer, Spike could feel his breath on his face, their noses almost touching, "I've never forgotten you... I'll never forget holding you... the warmth of you skin... the taste of you in my mouth..."
Spike had backed up in to a wall, his gun trembling just inches from Viscous' chest. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold back angry tears that were welling up in his eyes. Viscous was leaning over him and there was no lie in his eyes. Spike felt the blood rising to his face. Viscous placed his hand on the gun and it clattered to the floor. He tried to back away, his hands pressing against the wall.
"I missed you..." Viscous whispered, tilting his head slightly. He was so close now that his lips brush lightly against Spike's as he spoke.
Spike was panicking. He didn't want to love Viscous after all he had done, but he did. He tried to tell himself he hated him, that he should have died a long time ago, but closeness of Viscous had awaked an almost forgotten feeling in his heart. His pulse quickened and more blood rushed to his face, a fierce crimson blooming in his cheeks. He turned his face from Viscous, trying to hide that old feeling renewed. He felt Viscous' fingers, so cold on his hot face. They traced under his chin, slowly turning Spikes face back at his own, tilting it slightly upward.
"I never would have killed you."
Viscous leaned forward, gently kissing Spikes forehead. Spike halfheartedly tried to free him self from Viscous, his eyes averted, But Viscous held him fast, kissing him passionately on the lips. Spike choked, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Viscous pulled away, searching his face. Spike looked down, viscous let his head fall this time.
Viscous stood gazing at him for several minutes, then, sighing, he turned to leave. But Spike stopped him. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed the black sleeve of Viscous' coat. He stopped but didn't turn around. Spike tightened his grip and pulled Viscous close to him, rapping his arms around the other's middle. He rested his head on Vicious' shoulder, and although he was still at first, after a few moments Viscous returned Spike's embrace resting his chin on Spike's head.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered in to his dark hair.
Spike squeezed him tighter, his eye squeezing shut as he tried to hold back his onslaught of tears. Why did he still feel this way? Why had Vicious done this? Julia was gone and he was seeking comfort in the arms of her murderer. He couldn't understand it but he did want any but for Vicious to love him.
But...
"Forgive me, love..."
Vicious backed him in to the wall; his eyes sad, his lips only slightly parted. Spike was speechless, his knees giving out when Vicious kissed him gently. His body slid down the wall, tears sliding down his face.
"Forgive me..."
Spike saw his gun.
"I love you more than all of this..."
He picked it up, only half a wear of what he was doing.
"Please..."
He aimed.
"Spike..."
"No."
He pulled the trigger.
Vicious fell back, bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest, dieing soon after. Spike's hands shook violently as he sat there. Tears poured silently from his staring eyes as he weighed what he had done. Slowly he raised the gun to his own head.
"Just one left..."
4 pounds of pressure left on the trigger.
"Good Bye, Bebop..."
3 pounds.
"Good Bye, bad cooking..." He laughed to him self.
2 Pounds
"Good Bye, Julia"
1 pound
"Good Bye," His voice broke, "Vicious..."
Zero.
The rain beet down, Spike's cigarette burning down to the filter, then parting with him to join several others around his feet. Sighing he pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck, cold droplets running down his spine he separated from the wall. He made his way down the gray street, kicking the occasional puddle. Spike had no destination. He was lost, Julia was dead, and it was the pursuit her that gave him the drive to maintain his life. Now that she was gone he might as well be dead, just as most of his former acquaintances thought he was. There was Jet, and the untouchable shrew women Faye back on the Bebop, along with the Ed, the child hacker and her dog Ein, but they meant little to him, just company in his life after death.
He passed through the town alone, the streets empty of all life, beaten back me the weather and the earlier gunshots. His old life was gone, his new one in the process of following it predecessor. He stopped, gazing up at the gray sky. The heavy drops splattering against his face as he squinted in to the heavy cloud cover. Smooth, constant. Appearing older than time, although as young as the man looking up at it.
Viscous.
Viscous was the only thing left of Spike's past. The former friend that had destroyed the lives of so many in pursuit of his vision. He had seen the flaws in the old men's leader ship. He saw a new way of running the Scarlet Dragon. His heart would have made them an unstoppable and superior authority, through all know space. But the Old Men would not give him the power to change things, so he tried to over throw them. Spike and Julia had been victims in his struggle for power; both of them had fled assumed dead by all. But now, upon the same day they became reunited, she was gone again. But this time Spike wouldn't meet her again one rainy day, because the second time through she really was dead and nothing could reverse her passing. But he was still alive. He was the one who caused every thing. Julia would have been alive now, at his side, her heart beating, the warmth of her body taking some of edge off the cold, if not for him. Spike's brow wrinkled, the corners of his lips turning down in anger. His hate for Viscous was indescribable... but some how...
Spike breathed his name in to the air. But the trio had been such good friends. Julia had loved him, and he her... and he had loved him, for a time. No, they had loved each other. Spike sighed, gazing in to the blurry refection on the wet road. He had loved Viscous, more than he had loved any one, but Vicious could only see the future he wanted for the Dragon and love could never shove those dreams aside. And it was his pursuit of a better life is what destroyed everything. Spike closed his eyes. He felt empty, because the Viscous he had loved was as unattainable as Julia. He cursed to him self, because he did feel dead now. No one from his former life knew of his existence, Viscous gone, Julia and Anne dead, every one else thinking him dead. He was the living dead, a corpse that some how managed to move, unsatisfied with the grave.
Although he was now free of the syndicate, so much of Spike's life was tightly bound to it, and he often felt it would be impossible to have a real life after being so heavily involved in it. But with Julia dead, he didn't have a life with or with out the syndicate. Viscous was all that was left of his old life. It was Vicious who had destroyed every thing! He told him self that over and over but...
He loved Vicious, and he couldn't stop.
Spike cursed him self under his breathe. What a fool he was to hold such feelings in his heart. Vicious was a different person now, a cold one that had sent the people to kill Julia, to kill him. He walked a little farther, stopping in front of Julia's old apartment complex. He looked up at the window for the apartment he had entered when he told he was leaving the syndicate. He sighed and entered the building with a troubled mind.
After a long flight of stairs and a dim hallway he reached the apartment he
Was looking for. The door was unlocked, which surprised him at first, but then he remembered that the entire building seemed to have been widely vacant for years. He pushed open the door and saw that same table, the glass sculpture of a fish, the vase full of dead and brown roses, their heads bent in the morning of their past glory. As his eyes past over the rest of the room he saw some thing he had never seem before. He pulled his gun as he saw Viscous standing by the window, looking sadly at the tiny little music box in his hands. Spike's hands where shaking as he approached the grim gray haired figure.
The music box's song ended and Spike stood only a few feet from Viscous, the gun rattling in his hands aimed at his chest. Viscous looked up at spike an old sorrow painted across his face.
"Viscous, you bastard..."
Viscous cast his eyes down but said nothing.
"You killed her..." Spikes voice cracked and hot tears can to his eyes, "And you would have me dead, too!"
"Spike..." He raised his eyes again, slowly extending an arm to touch his face.
Spike recoiled, taking a step backwards, "Why, Viscous... She loved you once... and..." his grip loosened on the gun, "So did I..."
Viscous stepped forward, coming so close the gun almost touched his chest, "I still do, Spike..."
"What are you saying?" He asked, his voice trembling as his heart beat quickened.
"I'm still in love with you, Spike..." He came closer, Spike could feel his breath on his face, their noses almost touching, "I've never forgotten you... I'll never forget holding you... the warmth of you skin... the taste of you in my mouth..."
Spike had backed up in to a wall, his gun trembling just inches from Viscous' chest. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold back angry tears that were welling up in his eyes. Viscous was leaning over him and there was no lie in his eyes. Spike felt the blood rising to his face. Viscous placed his hand on the gun and it clattered to the floor. He tried to back away, his hands pressing against the wall.
"I missed you..." Viscous whispered, tilting his head slightly. He was so close now that his lips brush lightly against Spike's as he spoke.
Spike was panicking. He didn't want to love Viscous after all he had done, but he did. He tried to tell himself he hated him, that he should have died a long time ago, but closeness of Viscous had awaked an almost forgotten feeling in his heart. His pulse quickened and more blood rushed to his face, a fierce crimson blooming in his cheeks. He turned his face from Viscous, trying to hide that old feeling renewed. He felt Viscous' fingers, so cold on his hot face. They traced under his chin, slowly turning Spikes face back at his own, tilting it slightly upward.
"I never would have killed you."
Viscous leaned forward, gently kissing Spikes forehead. Spike halfheartedly tried to free him self from Viscous, his eyes averted, But Viscous held him fast, kissing him passionately on the lips. Spike choked, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Viscous pulled away, searching his face. Spike looked down, viscous let his head fall this time.
Viscous stood gazing at him for several minutes, then, sighing, he turned to leave. But Spike stopped him. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed the black sleeve of Viscous' coat. He stopped but didn't turn around. Spike tightened his grip and pulled Viscous close to him, rapping his arms around the other's middle. He rested his head on Vicious' shoulder, and although he was still at first, after a few moments Viscous returned Spike's embrace resting his chin on Spike's head.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered in to his dark hair.
Spike squeezed him tighter, his eye squeezing shut as he tried to hold back his onslaught of tears. Why did he still feel this way? Why had Vicious done this? Julia was gone and he was seeking comfort in the arms of her murderer. He couldn't understand it but he did want any but for Vicious to love him.
But...
"Forgive me, love..."
Vicious backed him in to the wall; his eyes sad, his lips only slightly parted. Spike was speechless, his knees giving out when Vicious kissed him gently. His body slid down the wall, tears sliding down his face.
"Forgive me..."
Spike saw his gun.
"I love you more than all of this..."
He picked it up, only half a wear of what he was doing.
"Please..."
He aimed.
"Spike..."
"No."
He pulled the trigger.
Vicious fell back, bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest, dieing soon after. Spike's hands shook violently as he sat there. Tears poured silently from his staring eyes as he weighed what he had done. Slowly he raised the gun to his own head.
"Just one left..."
4 pounds of pressure left on the trigger.
"Good Bye, Bebop..."
3 pounds.
"Good Bye, bad cooking..." He laughed to him self.
2 Pounds
"Good Bye, Julia"
1 pound
"Good Bye," His voice broke, "Vicious..."
Zero.