DISCLAIMER:I do not own everything that is in Cowboy Bebop. It rightfully belongs to Shinichiro Watanabe. I also do not own "Bravado", the song that inspired me to write this story. It rightfully belongs to Lorde. If you wanna know the song (and I suggest you listen to it while you read this), just type this link in your browser (just delete the spaces in between): bit . ly / 1kfFozp
Stuffy.
That's all that she could describe the air right now in the Red Tail.
She punched a button on her dashboard and turned the radio on. A familiar song reverberated in the small space that was her craft's cockpit. It was an old song she knew so well.
All my life
I've been fighting a war
I can't talk to you or your friends
It's not only you
My heart jumps around when I'm alluded to
This will not do
She floated in space momentarily. With her craft on autopilot, she leaned back and adjusted in her seat.
She exhaled with much frustration. Well damn, that hurt.
She flinched at the bleeding gash on her abdomen, right on top of her diaphragm. As she acknowledged that pain, she began to feel all the other wounds on her body. Various scrapes, cuts, and bruises on her arms, legs, and nicks on her collarbone and face.
She was grateful for three things: her courage, her agility, and her strength. It was those three things that made it possible for her to get out alive. Although the courage, she had to say, half of it was borrowed from alcohol, a quarter from the adrenaline rush, and the remaining quarter from her determination.
She was on a mission.
And she was hell-bent on wanting—no, needing to not fail this one. She didn't want to fuck things up again. She wants to return to Bebop with her head held high. Especially when this was her first solo mission.
Oh yeah, speaking of alcohol, she still has half a bottle of rum left. She took the first half before starting the mission and left some just in case there's a cause for a (very) small celebration with herself.
She pressed hard on the gash on her abdomen to prevent it from stretching. She gently bent over a bit to reach for a compartment under her seat where she kept that rum. She hissed as the wound stung, partially reopened blood-clotted areas, and started bleeding again. The pain was all worth it in her mind; for in her other hand was the bottle of rum she so wanted.
She quickly opened the bottle with her bloodied hand and immediately downed the liquor like it was just water. After such, she closed her eyes and sighed in relief. She let the bottle and the cap drop to the floor.
Cause I was raised up
To be admired to be noticed
But when you're withdrawn it's the closest thing
To assault when all eyes are on you
This will not do
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
She felt the pleasant burn in her throat, the tingles crawling to her fingertips and her toes, and her body warming up. She could also feel several wounds and bruises were numbed thanks to the sudden rush of alcohol.
That's all she needed right now. She wanted to feel. Anything. Panic, determination, triumph, and most of all, warmth.
Her fingers gently tapped to the rhythm of the song. It reminds her of a pleasant memory. It took her back to that day, months before the accident that fucked up her life, when she and her college friends went to a concert of the artist singing this particular song. Oh how much she had fun then.
This is the upside of regaining all her memories. Remembering how good her life was. The downside was realizing what good life had slipped away from her hands because of the accident. A life she couldn't get back.
Who would've thought that she would be so poor, so buried in debts, so promiscuous, so violent, and…and so desperate?
"Mom and Dad would be so proud," she smirked in sarcasm, but frowned, "I miss you, Mom, Dad. I didn't want things to go this way, too."
At the back of her mind, how she wished she could've died in that accident instead. It would've spared her of the miseries that she had to endure today.
She smirked again, "My own folks probably want to teach their daughter a lesson. They've spoiled her rotten. So they decided to shove her into poverty and forced independence."
But in her mind, she chastised herself that that wasn't true. She remembered how much her parents loved her, how they'd always want only the best for her. She knows that her parents wanted her to live. They probably couldn't bear the thought of their most beloved daughter dying. They probably just didn't know that she would end up so far into the future that none of her relatives were able to keep track of her…or maybe none of them would even remember that they had a frozen family member.
Why was she thinking of all these things?
She smiled and sang in time to the music, "I'm faking glory. Lick my lips, toss my hair, and send a smile over, and the stories brand new. But I can take it from here. I'll find my own bravado."
To find her own bravado.
In her new lifetime, nothing really mattered to her anymore. She decided to choose to live a dangerous life. Morbid as it may sound, at least, if her time comes, she went out while trying things she wouldn't have done before—things that would probably make her parents faint just at the thought of it: wearing clothes that leave nothing to the imagination, smoking, drinking, fighting, gambling, flirting with men but never really sleeping with them.
Nothing mattered. No one mattered—not even herself. Until one day, she crossed paths with the one who, unintentionally, made her realize things.
Spike Spiegel.
He has this effect on her. She can't really put her finger on it. There was a force pulling her to him. She was drawn. When she realized this, she tried her best to stay away from them—the reason for her disappearances from Bebop. This is all new to her.
She decided to finally just slow down and try to make the most out of her new life with some friends. He made her realize that the past didn't really matter, but the future does. She realized that he made sense. What's the point of running away when there's nowhere really to run to? Might as well make one.
She was so absorbed into sorting out her life that she never noticed that Spike wasn't really there. He was in a dream. He was trapped in his dream. And so when he chose his fate and marched to his own death, Faye felt like her life was falling apart again. She felt like she just found her resolve but only to slip away just as quickly. She was not ready for that. No, she would not let this go.
It's a switch flipped
It's a pill tipped back, it's a moon eclipsed, whoa
And I can tell you that when the lights come on I'll be ready for this
She didn't want to continue to wait for a corpse. She finally found someone, a companion to somehow help her lighten the weight of her life's load. She wasn't going to let him go out like a light. Even before her mind could fully process the idea that had entered her mind, she was on her feet.
After crying her heart out for a few minutes, she gave Jet a quick goodbye and assured him that she will be back, but might as well prepare some medical stuff. Better yet, ask Doc to get his ass in the Bebop ASAP. There was gonna be a medical emergency. Jet, baffled, was about to question her, but Faye took a few things with her and broke out in a sprint to her Red Tail, with Jet limping as fast as he could behind her in an attempt to stop her.
She was quite thankful that Jet was injured. Otherwise, he would've very easily pinned her down on the floor and then cuff her—just like how she was when she had first set foot on the Bebop. Jet would've guessed what was on her mind at that moment—she was gonna chase Spike.
She decided to live dangerously, didn't she?
She was a bounty hunter after all. She was gonna bring back Spike, dead or alive. The former was fine, but the latter would be a rather exquisite icing on the cake.
And so here now is Spike, bloody and lying on her lap.
She found her own bravado.
It's in your blood stream
A collision of atoms that happens before your eyes
It's a marathon run or a mountain you scale without thinking of size
Impulsivity. The tendency to do something reckless, to do something without thought. Literally, to do something on impulse. That's how she would explain how they ended up this way. Spike decided to just suddenly take down the syndicates and kill Vicious for good. Faye decided to chase after Spike, because in her mind, she would not forgive herself if she just stayed back at the Bebop and cried her heart out.
No. Faye Valentine had always been known as a stubborn shrew. Might as well live up to it.
"Fuck you, Spike. Fuck you." She told him, "I went through hell in there. You wouldn't have made it to Vicious if I wasn't there on your tail, you fucktard."
Spike never noticed that there was someone else in that building, trying to subdue the syndicates. He wasn't able to take them all down completely, for his ultimate goal was to kill Vicious for his Julia.
In his mad dash to the top, he didn't notice that he was being chased by other syndicates—those who weren't fully subdued. There were more than what he could've imagined. Well, maybe he never noticed at all because Faye took care of them.
Faye had to admit, Spike was pretty damn good at single-handedly trying to take down the entire building full of disciplined but bloodthirsty syndicates. Well, most likely because he was once also a disciplined and bloodthirsty syndicate. That thought gave her eerie chills.
I was frightened of every little thing that I thought was out to get me down
To trip me up and laugh at me
Debris were flying everywhere, even towards her direction, grazing her once immaculate skin. And in a thick cloud of smoke, she wasn't able to detect one predator. She received a stab on her abdomen. However, as soon as she felt the cold blade pierce through her skin, she was able to kick the guy away from her, preventing further injury.
She leaned on the wall momentarily and tried to catch her breath while an arm draped over her gushing wound. Her legs were shaking from all the running, climbing, kicking, jumping, but most of all, even her own knees threatened to betray her from the excruciating pain her body was taking.
But this is not the time to give up, no. She wasn't a quitter. She had her own mission to fulfill.
But I learnt not to want
The quiet of the room with no one around to find me out
I want the applause the approval the things that make me go
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
When she reached the top, she was just in time to see Spike standing up and walking down the staircase, staring up the sky, and then he collapsed.
Her heart stopped at that moment. Her aching body momentarily froze in place. All the pain in her body numbed. Her mind screamed at her to move. And move, she did. She sprinted towards him and tried to wake him up.
She was panicking, but it was a good thing that her mind was more determined than shaken with the entire predicament. She activated her Red Tail's remote control system and set it on autopilot to come through the blasted roof of the Red Dragon Syndicate's building. Then, she removed her red jacket and pressed it hard against the deep wound across Spike's torso.
She also checked for pulse and breathing while waiting for her Red Tail. Both were faint. But they were there. She could also hear several footsteps. Well, some syndicates just didn't want to die in either Spike's or Faye's hands eh?
It's a switch flipped
It's a pill tipped back, it's a moon eclipsed, whoa
And I can tell you that when the lights come on I'll be ready for this
Finally, Red Tail just arrived in time. With the remaining strength and adrenaline in her body, Faye hooked her arms under Spike's shoulders and dragged him with her into the cockpit. She had to get away before she deals with first aid. And so, her Red Tail zipped as far away as it could from Mars, firing two missiles back at the building while she fled. Touché.
Faye took this time while in Mars' orbit to inspect Spike's wounds. She had stashed a first aid box from the Bebop before she left and it was apparently a good call. She made careful but quick work on his wounds, removing debris of all sorts and sizes, cleaning them with bottled water, and then applying antiseptic. After the bandages ran out, she tore his trench coat into strips and used it to dress his wounds.
It's in your blood stream
A collision of atoms that happens before your eyes
It's a marathon run or a mountain you scale without thinking of size
She checked for pulse and breathing again. They were a tad bit stronger now than they were a while ago. She sighed in relief. It was something. But he still needed serious medical attention. He lost a lot of blood and she knows that she was only able to temporarily slow down his bleeding just in time to get back on Bebop.
Faye cursed under her breath. That Jet better be ready.
Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline aftermath. The pain settled back in her body. She felt so exhausted. Then, encoded the coordinates of Bebop, set the craft on a fast but steady speed, and then hit autopilot. She can't pilot right now. She wanted to rest.
In this moment of exhaustion, she feels old—not her age, but how times have changed. And certain thoughts make her feel scared, vulnerable.
I was frightened of every little thing that I thought was out to get me down
To trip me up and laugh at me
"It's quite scary now, Spike, you know that? This day and age scares me," she whispered as she moved her hand to gently rake his unruly hair away from his face, "It's scary realizing that people I loved are long gone. It's scary realizing I have no more home. It's scary to realize that no one knows me and no one cares for me. It's scary how I should always have my guard up all the time and how I should be concerned for my own safety and survival. But…I found a new home, Spike. It's the Bebop. And I found new people that I care for, it's Jet, that kid, that mutt, and…and you."
Her hand fell limp and rested on the crook of his neck as she continued, "I understand why you decided to go. But I felt that I wasn't gonna allow myself to see you dead. Sure, I don't even know why I should still be alive. I found no meaning in living this second life, Spike. I am not afraid to die, even now. But after I met you and the crew, I slowly found meaning. It's not to discover my past. It's to live a new life. To have a reason to live. I wanted to protect you and the rest of the gang. You guys are my family now. I won't let anything bad happen again. Not until I die. I hope you understand."
She could feel her emotions surging through her and she hissed, closing her eyes. Big teardrops rolled down her face and onto Spike's forehead.
"Call it selfish, but I don't want any of you guys dying on my watch. I'd rather go ahead, Spike. I have nothing to lose anyway. You guys still have a chance at this…" she trailed off and laughed a bit, "Yeah, I'll be ready for your fucking temper once you realize you're still alive. I'll let you win. Just that once, okay? Can't let you beat my ego down."
But I learnt not to want
The quiet of the room with no one around to find me out
I want the applause the approval the things that make me go
"I wish we could just go back to the simpler days, you know?" Faye looked out and watched the vast universe outside her zooming craft, "Maybe…maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way—aaargh!"
She flinched at the gash on her abdomen. It was still profusely bleeding. The numbing effect of the alcohol was wearing off.
She closed her eyes again. She sharply inhaled through her nose and exhaled, hissing as she did so, "Shit, that really hurts." Tears rolled down her face again. Tears of both physical and emotional pain.
"If I could turn back time, I wish I didn't nag Dad so much to sign me up for that first commercial space flight. Then maybe, I would've lived to this day as a happy grandma watching her grandkids ruin her garden. Maybe I would still be rich, maybe I would've had a good and doting husband, and maybe I would've retained more manners. If only I could go back in time, Spike. Then maybe I would've lived a good life and maybe I would die filled with contentment in my heart. Also," she snickered before continuing, "you would be able to die as you wish. No one there to interrupt you from your reunion…with Julia. Oh God. I…I-I'm sorry."
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Faye realized that there was more reason as to why Spike wanted to die. He wanted to be with his Julia. She just had to ruin it. Didn't she of all people know how it feels like to lose loved ones? It should've been worse for him, to see his beloved get killed right before his very eyes.
She shouldn't have meddled with his business.
"Oh God. I'm so sorry, Spike." Her crying turned into breathless sobs, as the action made her wound twitch and she started coughing violently. She brought a hand up to her mouth and felt her own blood erupt into warm streams in between her fingers and down her arms.
She found it hard to breathe. She was tired. So very tired.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to succumb into darkness.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just recently got addicted to the music of Lorde. I now have her album "Pure Heroine" and her EP "The Love Club". She is amazing. You guys better check out her music. It's awesome!
I got really hooked to "Bravado" and "Ribs" (according to a video, Lorde says that the latter is her favorite) and I was just taken beyond. It stirred my imagination and I knew that I just had to write this. So I did, sitting on my bed, and typing away on my laptop. I find the lyrics of both songs very befitting of Faye, how she wanted purpose in her life—to find her bravado. And at the same time, how she finds it crazy getting old with no time to even prepare for it. The songs have nostalgic vibes to it, so I thought about how Faye would have had wishful thoughts and other things reminiscent of the past.
You might be wondering, so where's "Ribs"? Well, it's on the next chapter. Surprise, surprise. ;]
I originally planned on making this a one-shot. But after I slept through the night (on the day I finished writing the original one-shot version of this), I thought that it might be better as a two-shot instead.
Please let me know what you think of this fanfic by giving me a review!
Thanks for reading!
Yours truly,
Releina Artemis