A/N: So, this is my first story ever, probably only one too. We'll see. Anyhoo, this story has a lota lota lota backstory that I didn't bother to try to explain, so it's probably best to watch the series first. That being said, there are probably spoilers in here, so, yeah.
This takes place after RFB(II). I wasn't satisfied with the ending. Maybe this is a denial fic, 'cause I don't want him to die. But the director himself hasn't said if he lives or dies, so I'm justified :).
This originally was intended to be a one-shot, but if you like how I write, R&R and I might continue it *wink*. Concrit would be wonderful as well!
"Bang."
The members of the Syndicate watched Spike Spiegel's knees buckle after speaking that word, watched him fall spread-eagle onto the steps to lay unmoving. No one moved for a moment. No one knew what to do. The highest of their mighty organization had all been slain. It was the end of the Red Dragon Crime Syndicate, and everyone in the room knew it. Another tense moment passed, before one man took a step forward. He gazed at the fallen man, his intention to gather him up and take him, somewhere. Instead, he lowered his eyes, turned, and walked through the crowd towards the exit. Slowly, the others turned to follow suit, going forward into their lives, with new futures and new prospects ahead of them. The last one closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch leaving Spike in partial darkness. Not two seconds after, the distant sound of jet engines could be heard, coming closer.
EARLIER IN THE BEBOP
Faye cried and cried after he left. She didn't understand these feelings she was experiencing. She had never felt so close to someone, so vulnerable. She had never exposed herself, to be left to the mercy of another person. She had just come to think of them as her family, and now one of them was gone, gone to certain death, adamant about facing his demons alone.
She leaned back against the wall, images of him flashing through her mind. How he had come to help her that day he'd fallen from the church. His wounds from the fight with Vincent. The injuries from his first encounter with Pierrot. Spike had died a thousand times, but he had always come back. She sighed with the resignation that, this might be the one he didn't come back from. Suddenly, a thought struck her. Something the two had been bickering about before he went to confront Pierrot:
"Maybe this is the one, the one I won't come back from. The end."
Faye stared at him, surprised. He smiled, "Just playing with your head. Would you rescue me if it were true?" She just muttered 'Lunkhead' to herself, but she knew she would, and in the end did, come for him. And she would every time.
Faye sniffed, and wiped the last of her tears with the back of her hand as she stood up. Thrusting her head up, she marched to where Jet stood, polishing a nonexistent spot, and staring through the window at where the Swordfish II had vanished on the horizon. She cleared her throat loudly when he didn't notice her right off. Jumping a bit in surprise, he turned to her, eyes wide.
"Yeah, what is it Faye?" He huffed, annoyed.
"We're going after him."
"Now, look here. He doesn't want our help. He needs to face his past alone. It's my goddamn ship, and I say we stay! So get used to it!"
She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. "I don't know what kind of 'iron-clad honor system' you men have, but in MY philosophy, I don't abandon my comrades, no matter what the stupid lunkhead THINKS he wants. Got it!?"
"You're philosophy, since when do you have a philosophy? Other than cheating those you lure in just to take all they have!?"
Faye flinched, surprised that Jet would say something like that. Apparently he was just as messed up as she was about Spike leaving. But her hesitation only lasted a millisecond before she clenched her hands into fists by her sides and snarled. "I know what I used to be, but I'm changing into something better, and I KNOW he needs us. And you know it too!"
He bared his teeth, but stayed silent. She was right, of course. To think an irrational, egotistical woman was telling him what to do. He narrowed his eyes at her, but then sighed, letting his defenses fall. "Fine, you win. He looked up at her and smirked. "Let's go get the lunkhead."
Jet steered the Bebop towards the giant plume of smoke rising from the Syndicate headquarters, new determination and fear coursing through him. The ship passed over the blown-up roof, landing a small distance away on one of the few stable areas left. Even before the ship had set down, Faye jumped from it, her gun raised as she sprinted towards the roof-top stairs that would lead her to Spike. The door closed right before Jet yelled at her to wait. He huffed, but knew she could take care of herself. He sprinted in her wake down the stairs, ignoring the minute protests his injured leg gave him.
Faye opened the door to the large room where she had seen Spike laying from the ship. Cautiously, she stepped forward, but the building appeared to be deserted. Tucking her gun into her waistband, she ran to his fallen form, afraid of what she might see. Kneeling beside him, she grabbed his shoulder and turned him onto his back, sliding him 90 degrees to be parallel with the steps. Resting his head in her lap, she gingerly felt his throat for a pulse, trying hard not to be sick from the amount of blood covering his clothing. She released her breath when a pulse fluttered beneath her fingers, and smiled a little. For now, Spike was alive.
Jet ran in and looked at the pair in dismay. Faye looked up at him and smiled slightly, letting him know what he'd hoped for. He walked to them, and after placing a hand on Spike's cheek for a moment in concern, he pushed Faye to the side so that he could get under Spike's shoulders. Faye hurried to his feet, and the two of them carried the limp form of their friend back to the Bebop.
After placing his body onto the old couch, Jet ran off to the ship controls to take off. Faye stayed beside Spike, pressing a towel onto his belly wound. "Hey, where are we going!?" She yelled in the direction Jet had run off to. A communicator on the table sparked into life, making her jump. "I have an old doctor friend that owes me a favor. He can fix him up discreetly, and he doesn't live too far from here. I called him before we left, just in case, so he should be ready. We'll be there in another minute."
Spike groaned softly, making Faye look quickly back at him and renew her pressure on his wound. She leaned a little closer to his ear. "Spike, you with us?" He let out a breath. Faye thought she heard 'Julia'. "Hey, just a little longer, ok? Try just a little longer." He was still again. Faye's mouth was set in a grim line, and she hoped it wasn't too late.
The Bebop landed on the roof of a high-rise building a moment later. An older man stood still as the engines shut off, a gurney beside him. Jet came out a minute later, carrying Spike, Faye close behind. After placing him on the gurney, he shook the man's hand. "Doc Robinson, good to see you again." The doctor smiled warmly for a second at Jet before resting his eyes on Spike. "Let's get him inside." He said quickly, and pushed the gurney towards a door on the rooftop.
They took a freight elevator down one floor, the door opening to reveal what looked like a converted hospital wing, complete with checkered, lime-green linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting. The doctor went into a room with Spike, instructing the two bounty-hunters to stay in the hall. Faye looked at him in distrust, but Jet pushed her down into a chair. "We can trust the Doc, I always have." She huffed and crossed her arms, but said nothing. Another man jogged down the hall. "Hey, I'm Doctor Robinson's assistant, Jacobs, you're Jet right ok, gotta go!" He said in a whirlwind before opening and closing the door that Spike had gone into. Jet stared at the spot the man had been, looked down at his extended hand, then at Faye who was trying very hard to hold back her laughter. Jet grimaced and rolled his eyes, then sat on the hard plastic chair next to Faye to wait.
After an hour, Faye couldn't stay silent any longer. "So tell me, what's your history with this guy?"
Jet leaned back and put his arms behind his head before responding. "Ah, he had a daughter that got into some trouble when I was still with the ISSP. I was at his office getting a check-up, and he mentioned it in the midst of our small-talk. I said I'd look into it and help him out if I could. He said he'd owe me a favor if I helped. I'm cashing it in now."
"How do you know he'll keep quiet?"
"He 'retired' several years ago, for the same reasons I left the ISSP. For all they know, he's dead, and he does nothing to make them think otherwise."
"Yeah, I can see why they would think that, I mean the guy's ancient. How could a person be that ugly and still get around, you'd think his own reflection would reach out and strangle him just to put him out…of…" Faye stopped her rant at a warning glare from Jet. "Ah, heh, never mind."
"Anyway," Jet continued, "this building used to be a hospital. The lower floors were converted into apartments, but he payed off the contractor to 'accidentally' forget this floor on the plans for the renovations. The blue prints for the building say there are twenty floors, when there are actually twenty-one. He lives on this one, and treats people who need discretion, in exchange for whatever he can get."
"Psh, if I were him I'd charge top-dollar for such 'discretion'."
"Well, not everyone is as greedy as you are, miss Faye." Faye turned to him with a loud retort on her tongue, but stopped herself when the door opened. It was Jacobs.
"Hey, the Doc is still working, but he asked me to let you in on how your friend is doing. It looks like things are gonna be alright. I mean it's touch-and-go with cases like these, but, you know, the Doc is pretty good, I've seen him cure men that had been dead for an hour! Joking, anyways, gotta go!"
"Hey!" Jet yelled at the closing door. He exhaled forcefully before plopping back into the chair. "Well, it's good news for Spike then. The lunkhead…"
Faye held back her laughter again, despite the glares she was getting from Jet.
About five hours later, Faye had fallen asleep on Jet's shoulder. He ignored her as best he could, but let her rest. His eyes were growing heavy as well, and he knew he'd fall asleep too if he waited too much longer. Fortunately the door opened and the doctor stepped out. Jet shook Faye off his shoulder, earning an angry 'Hey!' before she realized the doctor was standing in front of them.
"We're done for now. He's as stable as one could expect, but I think he'll make it." Dr. Robinson smiled at them before continuing. "He's a very, very lucky man. We had to suture quite a lot internal damage from the belly wound. Fortunately nothing critical was damaged, the slash just missed his spleen, but, well, I suppose you're not interested in the details, are you. If you'd like to see him, you're welcome to. He's sedated for the moment, but you can visit for a short while." He gestured to the open door. Jet and Faye got up and walked inside.
Jacobs was cleaning things up, checking Spike's IV and vitals, as they entered. He looked up and smiled, then said softly "I'll leave ya'll alone. If you need anything, let me know." Before Jet could say thanks, the man had already left. Chuckling softly to himself, Jet looked to where Faye had seated herself beside their comrade. Walking over, he placed a hand on Spike's bandaged head fondly.
"Well Spike, you really did it this time." He smiled. "I'm glad you're ok, kid, the Bebop wouldn't be the same without you." Jet looked to Faye. She had rested her head on Spike's bed, looking at his face. "Faye, you doing ok?" She mumbled something incoherent. "Spike seems to be ok; you wanna bunk down here tonight, just in case?" She lifted her head and nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Ok, why don't you get some sleep on the next bed. I'll keep an eye on him." She got up, eyes glazed with sleep, and practically fell on the other bed in the room, asleep before she'd even hit the mattress. Jet chuckled to himself again and rubbed Spike's head. The doctor came in a moment later. "Everything alright Jet?"
"Yeah, we're just going to sleep here tonight, if that's alright."
"Certainly. I'm going to get a little shut-eye myself. Jacobs is in the next room, if you should need anything."
"Thanks Doc, for everything."
The doctor turned to leave, waving off Jet's thanks. As the door closed, Jet took Faye's abandoned seat and rested his chin on his hands, his elbows on Spike's bed, listening to the steady breath of his companion.
"Yep, buddy, I'm glad you're ok."
"Bang."
Spike managed a smile as he uttered his final word. But it fell short as vertigo took him, and blackness swallowed him up.
He felt hands on him. His head was being cradled by soft hands. He thought of Julia. He wanted to say something, to open his eyes and look into the eyes of his missing part, as he had so many years ago. But he could not do it. His eyes remained firmly closed, and no sound came from him. Strong arms lifted him, and the pain sent him back into the abyss.
The world rocked around him. He felt a great pressure on his belly. Someone was speaking near him, but it sounded distant, like he was underwater. He wanted her to sing to him. He filled his lungs with air, causing so much pain, making him groan. 'Julia, sing for me please.'
A soft beeping made itself apparent to Spike and it gradually got louder. He took a deep breath, choking on the air as the pain hit him. He let out a long, soft groan, and felt a hand on his forehead. He wanted to open his eyes, but he was so tired. Someone was speaking near him.
"Spike? Hey, you awake buddy?"
Was he awake? He supposed he must be, the dream had ended when…wait. The incident at the Syndicate headquarters came back to him; his final battle, his last word (or so he had thought), Julia…
Spike forced his eyes open, blinking in the bright light. When his eyes adjusted, he looked at his partner with heavy lids. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a series of dry coughs that sent rockets of pain through him. A hand slid behind his head, lifting it until his lips touched a cool glass of water. After drinking, his coughs subsided, and he looked tiredly at Jet.
"Jet…how's it going?" he mumbled.
Jet smirked at him. "How ya feeling?"
Spike coughed once. "Like shit, and you?"
"I'm doin' alright Spike."
"Good, glad to hear it." Footsteps wear approaching, and valiantly, Spike tried to lift his head, to no avail.
"Well well well, the mummy returns."
"Nice to see you too, Faye."
"Likewise. You know, I don't know what you'd do without me Spike, you keep getting yourself into trouble. It's just something that you've learned to do, and you know I can't keep coming for you all the time. You should be really grateful to me for…"
"Yeah, thanks Faye." Spike interrupted. He sighed. "So, could someone explain to me, uh, what exactly happened?" Another cough escaped him. His eyelids were getting very heavy.
"Maybe later Spike," Jet placed a hand on his shoulder, "I think you need to rest for now."
Spike mumbled a 'yeah, maybe' before letting his eyelids fall and succumbing to his nagging exhaustion.
Jet watched him sleep, and sighed. "Well, Faye, you certainly know how to make a guy sleepy."
"Psh, he's always sleeping. He doesn't need any help there."
Jet chuckled "That's true." He looked to the door as the doctor entered.
"Has he woken?"
"Yeah, just now. It was only for a few minutes, but he talked to us."
"Good, that's very good. He's doing very nicely. I think he'll be ready to be moved back to your ship so you can be on your way in a day or so."
Faye scoffed "He needs more time? He's already been here a week!"
"Young lady, I'm only advising. It's for his well-being. You are welcome to take him with you whenever you want."
"Yeah," Jet jumped in, "or just leave and go about your business. If it's that hard for you Faye, no one's making you stay here. Why don't you go bet on the ponies like you always do?"
"Hey, I don't have to take that snarky attitude from you! I know perfectly well I can leave anytime, I just wanted to be here for Spike!"
Spike mumbled something in his sleep, and the trio looked down at him.
"Maybe we should take this outside" suggested the doctor.
"Yeah, good thinking, Doc." said Jet, glaring at Faye as they walked out the door.
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Spike alone with his dreams.
"It was…a dream."
Spike looked into her eyes, at his reflection in those beautiful blue pools.
"That's right, just a bad dream." He said softly as her eyes closed, as his reflection disappeared. He lay her body down and walked a few feet away, sighing.
"Spike."
He turned quickly to her, face-to-face with a gun barrel.
"Why did you let me die, Spike? Why didn't you die instead? Why didn't you save me?"
"Julia…I, I, I tried everything I could!" He watched in horror as her bullet wound bled out, great rivers of blood. The gun barrel remained steady.
"You let me die, Spike! I thought you loved me!"
"Julia, no, I…" The blood gushed out until he was covered in it, trying to see through the veil of red, a veil of Julia's life. The gun was fired with a loud bang. His hand raced to the sudden source of great pain in his forehead, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Looking at his hand, he couldn't tell what blood was his, and what was hers. The sound of a sword being unsheathed made him look up from his bloodied appendage, into the eyes of a madman.
"Only I can set you free, Spike." With a great movement, he brought his sword down onto Spike. The pain was blinding!
Spike woke suddenly with a yell, covered in sweat. He heaved for a moment, his eyes darting around the dark room. He forcefully exhaled and wiped the sweat from his brow. The door opened then, and a silhouette stood in the doorway, surrounded by blinding light. Spike sat up slowly, using his hand to shield his eyes. "Only I can set you free, Spike." His eyes widened as the sword came down, reflecting the light from the hallway in a kind of beautiful, dark poetry, and time seemed to slow down as it approached him in a graceful arc. He screamed…
"Spike, Spike, wake the hell up!"
Spike was shaken from his nightmare by the strong hands of Jet. He sat straight up and lashed out with his hands.
"Oof! Spike you idiot, it's me, Jet!" Spike blinked, and allowed himself to look around the bright hospital room. He was panting and covered in a cold sweat. Jet glared at him, his hand on his now-bloody nose.
"Jet…" Spike said uncertainly. He continued to look around the room as his breathing slowed.
"Must've been one hell of a nightmare, Spikey."
"Uh…" Spike stammered, still trying to get his bearings. "Yeah, sorry Jet, about the nose." He grinned up at the large man. Jet just grumbled.
"You alright now?"
"Yeah. Say Jet, when am I gonna be able to get outta this place?"
"Today actually. In a couple hours most likely. I have to fuel the ship before we get going. I was actually about to do that when I heard you screaming in here."
"I was…screaming?"
Jet just looked at him like he'd asked the dumbest thing ever.
"Yeah. Like I said, it must've been one hell of a dream. Anyways, since you're awake now, I'm going to get going. Faye's run off somewhere, who knows if she'll be back." He rolled his eyes and raised his hands.
"Right, see you, Jet." Spike said quietly as Jet left the room. Leaning back, he rubbed his bandaged midsection. Vicious was dead, it had been confirmed. The Syndicate had been dismantled. Julia had died and he had lived. He was alive without her. Spike let out a long sigh. The demons of his past were gone. His life could go on, like he'd been born again. So why could he not shake the feeling that he'd never be able to get past this hump? He hoped his dreams would be the extent of his troubles. Dreams faded over time, and eventually died. He would outlive them, he was determined of that. He'd never wanted a cigarette more in his life than he did right then.
Between the time Jet had left and gotten back, Spike had somehow managed to get to the roof of the building, despite his injuries. Jet sauntered up to the man dozing in the evening sunlight, surrounded by cigarette butts.
"You know, I don't think the Doc would be too happy with you smoking in your condition, or in his building for that matter." Jet said with a smirk.
Without opening his eyes, Spike responded "For the record, we're on the building, not in it. And I think I'm good for one smoke."
"One?" Jet responded skeptically, looking around at the dozen or so butts surrounding the man on his back with his hands behind his head.
Spike opened his eyes a bit and looked at the butts as well. "Heh, guess I got a little carried away." He sat up slowly, grimacing. "We ready? If I stay in one place too long, I tend to blend in with the wallpaper."
Jet raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, let me just tell the Doc." Jet turned and walked to the elevator, disappearing from view. Spike leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and relishing as a soft breeze blew by. He opened them again, feeling somber. How could he go on without her? She was a part of him, the part he had thought he'd lost long ago. Could he exist as just a shell of a man as he did before? He rubbed his face with a slender hand, feeling very tired as the weight of the world crashed onto his shoulders. Or at least that was how it felt.
"I had a feeling my patient had escaped up here. Are you feeling alright son?"
Spike smiled, forgetting for the moment his worries as the doctor stepped up behind him. "Yeah pops, never better."
"When Jet said you were here, I had to be sure you were alright, although I'm sure you can take care of yourself."
Jet stepped up behind the doctor with his hand extended. "Well, Doc, as I was trying to say before you sprinted off to the roof, we're heading off. Thanks for all your help."
The doctor took his hand and smiled warmly. "Of course, son. And thank you for helping with Jenny, she's much happier where she is thanks to you. Consider the favor cashed in. And don't be too ashamed to come over and visit me once in a while, an old man loves the company of an old friend."
Jet smiled at him, then turned to Spike, putting the lean man's arm around his shoulder and helping him stand. Spike grit his teeth and hissed. One slow step at a time, they made their way to the Bebop.
Jet helped Spike to sit on the old couch before sitting adjacent to him on the chair. Spike slumped into the back and closed his eyes, drained from simply walking that short distance. He partially opened his eyes to gaze at Jet, who was looking at him with amusement.
"So Jet, you gonna let me in on what happened?"
"Well, what do you remember?"
Spike looked to the ceiling and brought his hand to his eyes as he tried to recall. "Well, I know Vicious sliced me in the gut. I thought I was going to die. I thought that, that that was the answer…" he finished cryptically, trailing off.
Jet furrowed his brow at his strange response. "Faye wanted to come after you. She made a pretty convincing argument," he grinned, "she's really not all that bad, you know?" Spike had his eyes closed. "Anyway, we came after you. The building seemed deserted. I found out later from Bob that the Syndicate was kaput. Faye found you collapsed on the stairs. You were pretty bad off, but you were alive. We took you to Doc and you know the rest." He sat back as he finished, putting his arms behind his head.
Spike opened his eyes and sighed. He smirked at Jet "That's a pretty good story."
Jet returned the smirk. "Yeah, it's a good one." He put his hands on his thighs and got up. "You rest easy Spike. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."
Spike nodded and lay down, letting his eyes close.
He was sitting on the couch, loading weapons and pocketing grenades.
"I don't want to do this, Jet."
"Then why are you?"
Spike smiled, "Let's just say my past is catching up to me."
Jet opened his mouth, but the words that came out were not in his voice "You should see yourself, do you have any idea what you look like right at this moment, Spike"
Spike looked up. He was in the cathedral on his back, a sword pressed into his shoulder.
"Vicious?" He said confusedly.
"The ravenous beast. The same blood runs through the both of us. The blood of a beast who wanders, hunting for the blood of others."
"I've bled all that kind of blood away."
"Then why are you still alive!"
Spike fell, as before. Only this time his life did not flash in front of his eyes. Only the reality of his situation. What had seemed to take an eternity before now only lasted seconds. His back hit something hard, and bursts of color flashed before his eyes before darkness consumed them.
In the darkness, he heard Faye's voice, distorted and faint "You've been asleep for three days…" "Spike, you with us?". The voice changed to that of a blind girl on Venus, still echoing and faint "…you're very different. I can feel these things. Both you and Rocco have something beautiful inside you. It's hard for most people to see it, but it's there. I know it is…" Her voice trailed off, and morphed one again into Julia's. "It was…a dream." "Spike?" Julia's voice whispered out, concerned. "Spike?" It was stronger now, more insistent. "Spike, wake up." Wake up from the dream. He felt something squeezing his shoulder, and his vision grew lighter.
Cracking an eye open, he caught sight of Faye shaking his shoulder gently. "Hey Spike, you alright?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He croaked, wondering how he could feel more tired after a nap.
"I think you have a bit of a fever; you're a little warm, and you're sweating."
He grumbled. "Jet got dinner ready yet?" He asked tiredly. He really just wanted to go back to sleep, but his stomach wouldn't hear of it.
"Yeah, that's why I came in here. Need some help sitting up?" She asked quietly, starting to rise from her seat on the table.
"No, no! I can do it, leave me alone." He threw a glare her way, starting to put a hand on the back of the couch to get himself upright. She scoffed.
"Well, forget it then. You know, you should be thankful I'm even sticking around to help your bandaged ass around!" She turned heel and marched out of the room. Spike had managed to pull himself part way up, halting to stare incredulously at where she had disappeared. He blinked hard, shook his head, and pulled himself the rest of the way up, groaning as he felt pain through his torso and arms. After swinging his legs to the floor, he placed his head in his hands, dizzy and exhausted.
Jet came in just then, holding a plate of noodles and a bowl of broth. "Well Spike, you sure do know how to piss people off." He stopped abruptly upon seeing Spike hunched over, breathing heavily with his head in his hands. He walked over, set the food down, and placed a hand on Spike's back. Spike moved his head to cup his chin in his hands, and looked sideways at Jet. He looked rather pale.
"You doin' alright Spike? You're not looking so hot." Spike shrugged. Jet continued "You might be getting an infection. Doc said it could happen. Hold on a sec." He got up and started rummaging through something behind the couch. A second later he was beside Spike, a syringe in his hand. "I'm gonna give you a shot of antibiotics. Let's see your arm." Spike complied wordlessly, staring straight ahead, lost in thought. 'She told me to wake from the dream' he thought hazily. If she wished it, he would do it. "Gotta wake up." He muttered suddenly, making Jet look up from his work.
"Eh?" Jet stared at Spike's profile with a furrowed brow.
Spike looked at him sideways again. "Nothing, what'd you make to eat?" He finished with a wry smile. Jet returned it.
"I get noodles, you get broth. Doctor's orders." He finished before Spike could complain. Spike sighed.
"Whatever." He reached to the bowl and started slurping. Jet cringed at the noise, but said nothing, and went to the chair to begin his meal.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Spike slurping noisily to annoy Jet, and Jet ignoring it like a champ. Finally, Jet set his empty plate down.
"So Spike, how are you really doing? Any more bad dreams?"
Spike set his bowl down slowly, thinking of what to say. "Not so much bad dreams as, well, different I guess. I think my mind is trying to work something out. I dunno." He finished with a shrug and picked his bowl back up.
Jet didn't look satisfied with the answer, but stayed silent, examining Spike who was busy with his dinner. Spike's hand went to his stomach suddenly, and he let out a strained sigh. Jet reached for his bowl before it fell. "Spike, what's up?"
Spike rubbed his stomach, trying to suppress the sudden onset of nausea. His spinning head didn't help with that. He leaned against his other hand, pressing his eyes, trying to make the room stop spinning. Jet seemed to understand what was happening and sat beside Spike to rub his back. "Hey man, can you keep it down?" Spike nodded, swallowing air. "Ok, pal, I'll help you lay back down, and you can sleep it off." Spike nodded again, not protesting as Jet took control and lay him on his back, afterwards lifting his legs off of the floor. Spike let out a 'Ugh', swallowing more air, trying to fall asleep. Jet patted his arm, "Don't worry bud, I'll stay here for a while in case you need anything." Spike let out a quiet sigh as he felt his body growing heavier, and sounds grew more distant.
When Spike opened his eyes again, the room was dark. He could vaguely make out a shape sitting adjacent to him on the chair, and he blinked a few times to focus. His breath caught in his throat as he gasped, sitting up sharply. Sitting there, staring at him with the utmost accusatory intensity, was Julia. Mixed in her gaze was also a heart-wrenching sadness. Spike stammered, his eyes growing wider as her bullet wound bled profusely.
"Ju-Julia?! Wha, how, uh…"
She sat and stared that penetrating stare, the gaze sending ice straight into his heart. "I'm dead, Spike."
Spike blinked in confusion. "W-whaddyou mean?"
"I'm dead. The dream is over. You have to wake up." Her figure shimmered and flowed, coming in and out focus. Spike could feel panic and confusion rising in his chest. She continued, "What we had, you must let it go. Or it will destroy you." She faded, almost invisible, and Spike got up quickly, reaching, trying to keep her from disappearing. Her form vanished with a whispered "Let go."
He plopped back down, feeling defeated and lost. Her blood was still on the chair, and he stared at it without focus. "It's not so simple," he whispered to himself, "or, or is it? Have I reached the core of the onion finally? Have I reached reality?"
"You should know, Spike." A cool voice slithered from behind him, and he turned with a start to see the faint outline of Vicious leaning against the wall, his head bowed. When Spike said nothing, the silver-haired man glided to stand in front of Spike, his katana unsheathed. With an icy gaze into Spike's eyes, he repeated "You should know."
"Know what?" Spike said as he finally found his tongue.
"That we are the same. Only I can kill you and set you free, and I can only be killed by you."
"But…you are dead…" Spike said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head in confusion.
"Then you should know, Spike. I died by your hand. You died by mine."
"But, I'm still alive…" Spike had no idea where this was going.
With an angry cry, Vicious suddenly struck Spike's gut with the hilt of his katana, his eyes blazing with rage. The air was knocked out of Spike, and he gagged and fell back to the couch. Suddenly the room was ablaze with light, and as Spike cracked his eyes open and looked up, he saw that Vicious had gone. And then he was struck with a pungent odor. He shakily looked down at the spinning floor, where a bucket was now filled with vomit, presumably from him. He gagged again and his nausea spiked, and he leaned over to throw up even more. He felt a hand on his arm, and when he was done, a towel was handed to him. He took it and wiped his mouth, his mind cloudy with confusion.
"You alright now Spike?"
Spike looked up to his right at Faye hovering over him. She was doing a terrible job of masking her worry with disgust. She answered his unasked question. "You started throwing up in your sleep." He felt suddenly very weak and cold and started to shiver harshly. Faye bit her lip and looked over her shoulder to the hallway leading to Jet's room, worry now distinct on her face. With a grunt, Spike plopped his head down and drew his arms around him, trying to stay warm.
"Wh-hy th-th-the hell is it sohhh c-c-cold in here?" He stuttered. Faye put a hand to his forehead, hissing at the heat. "Hold on Spike, I'm going to go get Jet." She got up abruptly, leaving him shaking on the couch. His vision was blurring and his eyelids were falling despite his struggles to keep them open.
When he opened his eyes again, Jet was pacing the room, talking to someone over the phone, and Faye sat on the couch beside him, holding a cold cloth on his forehead. When she saw him awake, she smiled slightly at him. "Hey Spike, glad you're awake again. You feeling any better?"
Spike for a moment had a lapse of recognition. "W-w-where a-are we? W-what's g-going on?"
Faye looked alarmed, and after a quick glimpse at Jet, she turned to him and said softly "We're on the Bebop, Spike, don't you remember?"
Spike blinked and started to try and get up. "I gotta go, I gotta go to, do, something…" She pushed him back down, an eyebrow raised. He struggled against her, too weak to get any upper hand. "L-lemme go! I gotta go, it's important, you don't know how…importha…" Spike's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell back to the couch.
Faye looked at his limp form with alarm, then back to Jet. "Jet!"
Jet hung up the phone finally. "Doc says to just keep him warm and keep a cold compress on him. It should pass on its own."
"What the hell is wrong with him!?" Faye shouted, feeling anger, though she didn't know why.
"Doc says it's probably just an infection that's gotten a little out of hand. I told him about the antibiotics I gave him a few hours ago, and he said that was good, that we got it early. Now we just have to wait for them to work."
"That's bullshit if he thinks we're just going to sit here and let-." She stopped when Jet raised a hand, a look demanding no argument on his face.
"If the Doc orders it, we do it. He's on our side Faye," he stated softly, "we can trust him."
She barred her teeth at him, stood up with a growl, and stormed out of the room. Jet let out a long sigh, and took her place by Spike, holding a cool cloth on his head. The lean man shook under his blankets, murmuring in his sleep. Jet ran a hand over his head in fatigue, letting lose another long sigh. "I hope you can get this under control Spike, it'd be a shame to lose ya after we just got you back."
The first thing he was aware of was that he felt dirty, like he'd just come home from running around in the dirt on a hot summer day. Soon his senses branched out, telling him he was covered in something warm, soft, and heavy. They were also telling him that they were tired beyond belief, and any request to move would be immediately denied. But Spike was never one to adjust to the rules. He made a finger twitch a bit, working up the nerve to try and open his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, they moved upward, revealing a world of blurry colors that spun and shimmered like sunlight on an oil spill. He blinked in half-time, and then again. Soon, the blurs came together into shapes, and he saw Faye, sitting on the chair across from him, playing solitaire. She looked up after a moment.
"So, awake finally, eh?" She lay her cards down and walked the two steps over to him, sitting down on the table. She reached over to feel his forehead. "Well, you're much cooler. That was an interesting little bout you had there. You've been asleep for almost two days. Jet had to give you some more antibiotics, and some other stuff the doctor gave us before we left." Spike blinked slowly at her, too tired to say anything. Faye seemed to notice. "Well well well, what an opportunity I have before me. Spike Spiegel, too tired to open his big mouth and give me a hard time." She lifted her hand to her chin on mock thought. "Now, what should I do? It's not often a girl like me is given an opportunity like this." Spike managed a groan, the effort of that nearly sending him back to unconsciousness. He blinked a few more times, trying to bring the world back into focus. Faye looked at his face.
"Ok, ok, I'll go easy on you. Spike, you are really too much of a drama queen. You act all tough and cool and the like, but all you really want is attention, don't you? And that's why you're always getting into trouble, blowing things up, and getting into conditions that you are in right now." She looked at him solidly before continuing, the mischievous gleam ridiculously apparent in her eye. "You think that it's ok to run around like a chicken with its head cut off, just to let someone else pick up the pieces." If looks could kill, Faye would be dead on the floor at Spike's glare. She failed to notice. "And when those consequences finally do come and bit your ass, you prattle on some pseudo-meaningful quote to make it all better." She let out a sarcastic laugh. Spike growled. Faye looked at him again, and seeing the glare finally, she decided it would be a good time to stop torturing the Jeet Kun Do master that was, for the moment, out of action. She rose from the table.
"But anyway," she resumed, nervously, "I'll let you get some more rest." She promptly vanished behind the couch, out of his range of vision. He breathed slowly a few times, trying to get his anger under control. Soon, he was relaxed again, and let his drowsy mind wander. Eventually, he thought of what dream-Vicious had said, that they had both died and been set free. His brow furrowed a bit. But he was alive. He had survived. So why was his mind telling him he'd died by the hand of Vicious?
"Swimming Bird's star has faded, but it has not gone out." Spike looked to where the old Native was sitting on the chair. When had he gotten there? "Swimming Bird's star can be re-lighted. It will never again reach the power it one had, but it can come back."
Spike waited for him to continue, but the old man sat there with is eyes closed and sand in his fingers. Spike realized then that he must have fallen asleep again. He sat up, pushing the blankets off, noting his bandage-free body. "So," he said slowly, "I am free. Vicious and I dealt death-blows to each other, but because I'm as lucky as I am, somehow I survived, though barely. My former life is gone, but I'm still alive, so I can start again. So, wait, why can't it be as bright as before?" He looked up, but Laughing Bull was gone. Spike raised his eyebrows in thought. He shook his head a few moments later, smiling. "Because I was in love with Julia. Two stars together make it brighter. So I guess that means I'm gonna be a loner the rest of my life." He added with a laugh. He sighed. "Well, we'll see about that. I got a lot of life yet to live, old man Bull, and I can do with it whatever I want. Life isn't a dream anymore. I'm gonna carry that weight with me wherever I go."
Spike opened his eyes. He was once again lying on the couch, wrapped in bandages. He smiled a true, satisfying smile. "I'm gonna carry that weight."