Julia is dead. Not gone – not something to look for and never find, not
just name or just a dream. Dead. What is there left for me? Empty bounty
hunting – if Jet can ever get his ship repaired, and assuming Faye hasn't
gambled our spare parts away. And a lifetime of being hunted by the Red
Dragons. Hunted by Vicious. No, I don't think that's my path. That's not a
life.
Heh. Jet actually says some pretty profound stuff from time to time, though I have the feeling most of it is from that old Indian guy. I'll follow some of it. Do something to find out if I'm really alive. Take down Vicious before he does anything else.
I've gone back to the Bebop while I've been thinking. Guess it's just natural at this point. Jet's asleep on the couch. Funny – that's usually me asleep on the couch. Don't think I'll be sleeping there any more, though. He wakes up, rolls over, then sits up with a start. I don't think he was expecting me back so early.
"Spike – you're – you're back." No, really. Actually, Jet, I'd love to discuss that with you, but I've got a very important question to ask.
"You have anything to eat?"
"Huh?" I don't think he was expecting me to say that.
"I'm really starving." This is true. Might as well have a good meal before I go after my one-time best friend.
Jet puts on his apron and cooks up his usual fare – whatever we happen to have lying around. This one's some sort of vegetable concoction. Jet's an awful cook, but it's not as if we've got options. "This food tastes terrible. As usual." I make sure to let him know that. There's no such thing as too many hints. I think all our hopes – me, Faye, Ed and Ein before they left – were that the man would take some lessons someday. Still, at this point it's more habit than anything.
"For being so bad, you sure eat a lot of it." He's got a point there. On the other hand, it's not as if I have an option.
"They say hunger is the best spice." Certainly for this stuff. Dunno what spices he put on, but they don't work too well.
A whim strikes me. I'm more detached from reality than usual. "Ever heard this story?"
"Huh?" I can see why he's confused. It's not as if I've ever volunteered information, let alone told a story.
"There once was a tiger-striped cat. This cat died a million deaths, revived and lived a million lives. And he was owned by various different people he didn't really care for. The cat wasn't afraid to die. Then one day, the cat became a stray cat, which meant he was free. He met a white female cat, and the two of them spent their days together happily. Well, years passed, and the white female cat grew weak and died of old age. The tiger striped cat cried a million times, and then he died too, except this time, he didn't come back to life." I don't remember where I heard it. It just popped into my head. Probably because the tiger-striped cat seems a bit like me. Although I don't cry.
"Yeah, it's a good story." Figures. His kinda story. Or so I believe, at least based on the way he takes care of those bonsai trees of his. Jet's a sentimentalist at heart.
"I hate that story." Again, dunno why I told it. It always struck me as a singularly stupid story anyway.
"Hm?"
"I never liked cats, you know that." That plays a part in it too. They annoy the hell out of me.
"Oh yeah, that's right." Yeah, Jet's been around me long enough. If it wasn't for the atmosphere, he'd probably have picked up on it at the start. We both break out laughing. I suppose it is pretty funny. But somewhere inside me, I know this is going to be the last time I'll ever laugh at anything with him. He's been a good partner. It's appropriate to end it like this.
I get up and head toward my ship, slouched over and with my hands in my pocket as usual.
Jet's voice gets me to stop. "Hey Spike."
"Yeah?"
"I just wanna ask you one thing."
"What's that?"
"Is it for the girl?"
I half-turn my head to face him. We really do know each other better than we think. I'm not really all that surprised that Jet picked up on what I'm going to do. He seems to have accepted it. I think that's what made us such good partners – this unspoken understanding. "She's dead. There's nothing I can do for her now."
And with that, I turn and walk out of the life of Jet Black.
As I reach the entrance to the docking bay, I hear a click. Without turning my head, I know who it is. Faye Valentine. With a gun pointed at my head. I look at her.
"Where're you going?" I just keep looking.
"Why are you going?" Demanding as always. That attitude has annoyed me on numerous occasions in the past. But there seems to be something else in it this time. A tinge of desperation, perhaps?
"You told me once to forget the past., 'cause it doesn't matter. But you're the one still tied to the past, Spike!" Well, well. Who knew she cared? I suppose she's right. But it doesn't really matter anymore.
I lean over her, my stare boring into her. She takes an involuntary step backwards. "Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake, 'cause I lost it in an accident. Since then, I've been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other., so I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture." This must sound pretty weird. But it's true. And Faye is probably the last person I'll have a chance to tell it to.
"Don't tell me things like that. You never told me anything about yourself, so don't tell me now." Her voice is wavering.
I continue as if she hadn't interrupted. "I felt like I was watching a dream that I'd never wake up from. Hm. Before I knew it, the dream was all over." The dream of a life away from the syndicate. A life with the hope of Julia in it someday. But that's all gone now.
"My memory... finally came back. But – nothing good came of it. There was no place for me to return to. This was the only place I could go. And now you're leaving, just like that. Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you going to do? Just throw your life away like it was nothing?" So it did finally come back. In a way, I'm happy for her. She's finally dealt with her own past. Even if she has nowhere left but the Bebop to go to.
Huh. Thought she'd be happy to see me out of here. But I guess I'm a stable force in her life, even if I do annoy the hell out of her.
"I'm not going there to die. I'm going to find out if I'm really alive. I have to do it, Faye." With that, I walk past her and toward my ship. It's time. Time to see if I'm alive, just like I told her.
I hear a gunshot, but I keep moving. Then a second. A third. A fourth. A fifth. Faye is firing into the ceiling. She really doesn't want me to leave.
But I have to. She's got a future, no matter how bleak. I've only got a past.
The flight is a trip down memory lane. Images of Julia, images of myself and Julia, myself and Vicious...
Images from the dream. But like most dreams, they are only fractured collages when you wake up.
I feel the adrenaline start as I walk up those old, familiar steps and through the two sliding glass doors. Syndicate members, dressed in the Red Dragons' finest attire, all glance up at my entry. I grab one of my grenades, remove the pin, and casually boot it into the room.
Showtime.
Through the smoke, I sprint toward the escalators. Gunshots spatter past me, but I make it, crouching down so as not to be a good target. I attach a plastic explosive to the side, then raise my head and shoot a coupe of thugs leaning over the edge of the second floor. I spin and take out a third.
Yeah, I think I'm alive.
I've reached the second floor now. I sprint along, then throw myself down to avoid machine-pistol fire. They're getting close. Time for my diversion. I press the button and set off the explosive I placed on the escalator. With the area smoke-filled, I reach the elevator easily. They pick me up again, and I have to duck behind a pillar after I press the button, but I'm in. Time to change magazines as I wait for the elevator to reach the floor I can probably get to Vicious from.
As the elevator doors open, more gunfire rakes the elevator. Guess they're all on alert now. I pull the pin out of another grenade and toss it out the door. Damn I love those things.
I look around, but there's nobody left in the smoky corridor. Another syndicate member appears at the end of a hallway. We exchange fire, and he goes down, but he got me near the elbow.
Shit, this hurts. I can't hold a gun in my left hand anymore.
I hear the elevator come up behind me, and spin around, coming face to face with...
"Shin?!" Instead of answering, he fires a few shots and takes out another guy behind me.
"Where's Vicious?" He was still working here, even if he's joining me now, so he'll know.
"On the top floor. This way!" We spring along. I leave a proximity explosive on the wall of a hallway, which turns out to be a good thing. Two guys following after us get blown to pieces, along with most of the hall and a couple of windows
We're getting closer. All of a sudden, I see something Shin doesn't. A guy with an Uzi has just popped out into the corridor. I shout a warning. "Shin!"
Too late. He sprays the corridor with bullets, and though I fling myself to the ground and nail him with a crack shot, it's too late for Shin. He falls to the ground, blood seeping out from underneath him.
"Shin!"
He looks up at me. I can see he's in great pain. "Vicious. He's got to be stopped."
Then he smiles. "I was waiting – for you to come back and take over."
Shin and Lin. Why did you guys wait for me? You should have gotten away like I did. Or perhaps not. I came back in the end, just not the way you wanted me to. I'm sorry, Shin. Thank you for what you did for me.
I continue along, finding no further opposition on the way to Vicious. As I reach his floor in the elevator, a huge explosion blows much of the top off the building. I check around, but there's nobody on this floor but Vicious. Blood runs into and around my left eye as I approach the stairs. Vicious is waiting at the top, his katana by his side as usual. He seems to sneer at me.
"So. You're finally awake. I told you before, Spike. I'm the only one who can kill you and set you free."
I was always better than he was. And he should know by now not to try to intimidate me. "Those words apply to you as well, Vicious. Either way, it's going to end here." Yes, it will. One of us dies.
I try to focus, but the gun keeps wavering from this range. I pull the trigger, but I miss as Vicious ducks. I'm gonna have to get closer.
As I sprint up the stairs, he pulls out one of his throwing knives and hits me in the left shoulder. Bad aim – my left arm's useless anyway. His katana whips out, and I block with my gun, the two of us straining against each other as I try to get it at the right angle to blow his head off. I fire three times. The third scratches his cheek, sending a fine spray of blood into the air.
He finally breaks loose. The sword slices my leg, and we're in free- fighting mode again. I block a couple of vicious sword strikes – the guy always did live up to his name. The second block sends both our weapons flying. My gun ends up under his foot, and his katana under my hand as I crouch down.
"Julia is dead." We may be mortal enemies now, but we both loved her in our own ways. I figure he ought to know. But there's no visible reaction from the man.
Then there's nothing else to say. "Let's finish it now."
"As you wish." Of course. He's been waiting for this a lot longer than I have.
We shove our weapons back towards each other. I grab the gun. He grabs the katana and swings it around, slicing across my stomach in a horrific gash. I know it's mortal. But it doesn't matter. I have the gun up and I can't miss from here. The bullet takes Vicious right through his cold, dark heart, and he collapses with a look of horror on his face. That's the difference, Vicious. You didn't mean to die here. Neither did I, directly. But I didn't care.
I stare up into the sky. My eyes, however, are focused inward. Instead of blue and the clouds, I see Julia, whispering those last words of hers.
"It's all a – dream."
And in that memory, I answer her. "Yeah. Just a dream."
You were right, Julia. It was a dream. Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet. But a dream all the same.
I descend the stairs one at a time, feeling myself dying slowly from the many wounds I've acquired recently. I hold my hand across my stomach, stemming the flow of blood from my mortal wound a bit. I should just die, but I've always been stubborn.
The Red Dragons – those who are left – stand in wait for me at the bottom. Though they all have guns, they don't shoot. They know who I am. And that if I'm still alive, then Vicious is not.
Poor confused Mafia. They've lost their leader. Well, I'm not going to be their new one. I raise my head and smirk at them. It was always my trademark.
I form my right hand into a gun and point it at them. I dropped the real one up near Vicious.
"Bang." One word, softly spoken. Yet it rings loudly in the dead silence up here.
Then I fall onto the stairs. Peace at last.
'You're gonna carry that weight...'
Not anymore I'm not. For me, it's all over.
Well, I'm done. I love random inspiration, I really do. I had to spend about half an hour pausing the last half of the Real Folk Blues Part 2 to get the dialogue, but it turned out pretty well. As read in the summary, this is my take on Spike's thoughts in that last half of the episode, and the coolest damn ending ever made.
This is obviously a one-shot. As for my other stuff, I'll finish Oh, My. Very iffy on Remnants, though. And the Feh Squad is probably out. I'm sorry - I just don't have the time. I'm pretty much reduced to about 4 hours a week in which I get to do whatever I want, and I can't spend it all writing. From now on, I'll stick to one shots. And finally, a special edition upgraded Tribute to Feh will be coming soon, in celebration of it's 32nd review. That story was a lot of fun.
Disclaimer: Bandai owns Bebop. Bandai owns Spike. And Vicious. And Faye, and Jet, and Julia, and everybody else related to that wonderful series. I own squat. I have no money. I want more Bebop. In fact, I would like to own it (wouldn't we all?). But I don't, so I'll have to be content at guessing Spike's thoughts for the end of Episode 26.
Hope all you people out there enjoyed this. I love feedback and will respond quickly, so feel free to email me at mlamdin@hotmail.com.
And of course, review. As if I needed to say it.
Heh. Jet actually says some pretty profound stuff from time to time, though I have the feeling most of it is from that old Indian guy. I'll follow some of it. Do something to find out if I'm really alive. Take down Vicious before he does anything else.
I've gone back to the Bebop while I've been thinking. Guess it's just natural at this point. Jet's asleep on the couch. Funny – that's usually me asleep on the couch. Don't think I'll be sleeping there any more, though. He wakes up, rolls over, then sits up with a start. I don't think he was expecting me back so early.
"Spike – you're – you're back." No, really. Actually, Jet, I'd love to discuss that with you, but I've got a very important question to ask.
"You have anything to eat?"
"Huh?" I don't think he was expecting me to say that.
"I'm really starving." This is true. Might as well have a good meal before I go after my one-time best friend.
Jet puts on his apron and cooks up his usual fare – whatever we happen to have lying around. This one's some sort of vegetable concoction. Jet's an awful cook, but it's not as if we've got options. "This food tastes terrible. As usual." I make sure to let him know that. There's no such thing as too many hints. I think all our hopes – me, Faye, Ed and Ein before they left – were that the man would take some lessons someday. Still, at this point it's more habit than anything.
"For being so bad, you sure eat a lot of it." He's got a point there. On the other hand, it's not as if I have an option.
"They say hunger is the best spice." Certainly for this stuff. Dunno what spices he put on, but they don't work too well.
A whim strikes me. I'm more detached from reality than usual. "Ever heard this story?"
"Huh?" I can see why he's confused. It's not as if I've ever volunteered information, let alone told a story.
"There once was a tiger-striped cat. This cat died a million deaths, revived and lived a million lives. And he was owned by various different people he didn't really care for. The cat wasn't afraid to die. Then one day, the cat became a stray cat, which meant he was free. He met a white female cat, and the two of them spent their days together happily. Well, years passed, and the white female cat grew weak and died of old age. The tiger striped cat cried a million times, and then he died too, except this time, he didn't come back to life." I don't remember where I heard it. It just popped into my head. Probably because the tiger-striped cat seems a bit like me. Although I don't cry.
"Yeah, it's a good story." Figures. His kinda story. Or so I believe, at least based on the way he takes care of those bonsai trees of his. Jet's a sentimentalist at heart.
"I hate that story." Again, dunno why I told it. It always struck me as a singularly stupid story anyway.
"Hm?"
"I never liked cats, you know that." That plays a part in it too. They annoy the hell out of me.
"Oh yeah, that's right." Yeah, Jet's been around me long enough. If it wasn't for the atmosphere, he'd probably have picked up on it at the start. We both break out laughing. I suppose it is pretty funny. But somewhere inside me, I know this is going to be the last time I'll ever laugh at anything with him. He's been a good partner. It's appropriate to end it like this.
I get up and head toward my ship, slouched over and with my hands in my pocket as usual.
Jet's voice gets me to stop. "Hey Spike."
"Yeah?"
"I just wanna ask you one thing."
"What's that?"
"Is it for the girl?"
I half-turn my head to face him. We really do know each other better than we think. I'm not really all that surprised that Jet picked up on what I'm going to do. He seems to have accepted it. I think that's what made us such good partners – this unspoken understanding. "She's dead. There's nothing I can do for her now."
And with that, I turn and walk out of the life of Jet Black.
As I reach the entrance to the docking bay, I hear a click. Without turning my head, I know who it is. Faye Valentine. With a gun pointed at my head. I look at her.
"Where're you going?" I just keep looking.
"Why are you going?" Demanding as always. That attitude has annoyed me on numerous occasions in the past. But there seems to be something else in it this time. A tinge of desperation, perhaps?
"You told me once to forget the past., 'cause it doesn't matter. But you're the one still tied to the past, Spike!" Well, well. Who knew she cared? I suppose she's right. But it doesn't really matter anymore.
I lean over her, my stare boring into her. She takes an involuntary step backwards. "Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake, 'cause I lost it in an accident. Since then, I've been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other., so I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture." This must sound pretty weird. But it's true. And Faye is probably the last person I'll have a chance to tell it to.
"Don't tell me things like that. You never told me anything about yourself, so don't tell me now." Her voice is wavering.
I continue as if she hadn't interrupted. "I felt like I was watching a dream that I'd never wake up from. Hm. Before I knew it, the dream was all over." The dream of a life away from the syndicate. A life with the hope of Julia in it someday. But that's all gone now.
"My memory... finally came back. But – nothing good came of it. There was no place for me to return to. This was the only place I could go. And now you're leaving, just like that. Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you going to do? Just throw your life away like it was nothing?" So it did finally come back. In a way, I'm happy for her. She's finally dealt with her own past. Even if she has nowhere left but the Bebop to go to.
Huh. Thought she'd be happy to see me out of here. But I guess I'm a stable force in her life, even if I do annoy the hell out of her.
"I'm not going there to die. I'm going to find out if I'm really alive. I have to do it, Faye." With that, I walk past her and toward my ship. It's time. Time to see if I'm alive, just like I told her.
I hear a gunshot, but I keep moving. Then a second. A third. A fourth. A fifth. Faye is firing into the ceiling. She really doesn't want me to leave.
But I have to. She's got a future, no matter how bleak. I've only got a past.
The flight is a trip down memory lane. Images of Julia, images of myself and Julia, myself and Vicious...
Images from the dream. But like most dreams, they are only fractured collages when you wake up.
I feel the adrenaline start as I walk up those old, familiar steps and through the two sliding glass doors. Syndicate members, dressed in the Red Dragons' finest attire, all glance up at my entry. I grab one of my grenades, remove the pin, and casually boot it into the room.
Showtime.
Through the smoke, I sprint toward the escalators. Gunshots spatter past me, but I make it, crouching down so as not to be a good target. I attach a plastic explosive to the side, then raise my head and shoot a coupe of thugs leaning over the edge of the second floor. I spin and take out a third.
Yeah, I think I'm alive.
I've reached the second floor now. I sprint along, then throw myself down to avoid machine-pistol fire. They're getting close. Time for my diversion. I press the button and set off the explosive I placed on the escalator. With the area smoke-filled, I reach the elevator easily. They pick me up again, and I have to duck behind a pillar after I press the button, but I'm in. Time to change magazines as I wait for the elevator to reach the floor I can probably get to Vicious from.
As the elevator doors open, more gunfire rakes the elevator. Guess they're all on alert now. I pull the pin out of another grenade and toss it out the door. Damn I love those things.
I look around, but there's nobody left in the smoky corridor. Another syndicate member appears at the end of a hallway. We exchange fire, and he goes down, but he got me near the elbow.
Shit, this hurts. I can't hold a gun in my left hand anymore.
I hear the elevator come up behind me, and spin around, coming face to face with...
"Shin?!" Instead of answering, he fires a few shots and takes out another guy behind me.
"Where's Vicious?" He was still working here, even if he's joining me now, so he'll know.
"On the top floor. This way!" We spring along. I leave a proximity explosive on the wall of a hallway, which turns out to be a good thing. Two guys following after us get blown to pieces, along with most of the hall and a couple of windows
We're getting closer. All of a sudden, I see something Shin doesn't. A guy with an Uzi has just popped out into the corridor. I shout a warning. "Shin!"
Too late. He sprays the corridor with bullets, and though I fling myself to the ground and nail him with a crack shot, it's too late for Shin. He falls to the ground, blood seeping out from underneath him.
"Shin!"
He looks up at me. I can see he's in great pain. "Vicious. He's got to be stopped."
Then he smiles. "I was waiting – for you to come back and take over."
Shin and Lin. Why did you guys wait for me? You should have gotten away like I did. Or perhaps not. I came back in the end, just not the way you wanted me to. I'm sorry, Shin. Thank you for what you did for me.
I continue along, finding no further opposition on the way to Vicious. As I reach his floor in the elevator, a huge explosion blows much of the top off the building. I check around, but there's nobody on this floor but Vicious. Blood runs into and around my left eye as I approach the stairs. Vicious is waiting at the top, his katana by his side as usual. He seems to sneer at me.
"So. You're finally awake. I told you before, Spike. I'm the only one who can kill you and set you free."
I was always better than he was. And he should know by now not to try to intimidate me. "Those words apply to you as well, Vicious. Either way, it's going to end here." Yes, it will. One of us dies.
I try to focus, but the gun keeps wavering from this range. I pull the trigger, but I miss as Vicious ducks. I'm gonna have to get closer.
As I sprint up the stairs, he pulls out one of his throwing knives and hits me in the left shoulder. Bad aim – my left arm's useless anyway. His katana whips out, and I block with my gun, the two of us straining against each other as I try to get it at the right angle to blow his head off. I fire three times. The third scratches his cheek, sending a fine spray of blood into the air.
He finally breaks loose. The sword slices my leg, and we're in free- fighting mode again. I block a couple of vicious sword strikes – the guy always did live up to his name. The second block sends both our weapons flying. My gun ends up under his foot, and his katana under my hand as I crouch down.
"Julia is dead." We may be mortal enemies now, but we both loved her in our own ways. I figure he ought to know. But there's no visible reaction from the man.
Then there's nothing else to say. "Let's finish it now."
"As you wish." Of course. He's been waiting for this a lot longer than I have.
We shove our weapons back towards each other. I grab the gun. He grabs the katana and swings it around, slicing across my stomach in a horrific gash. I know it's mortal. But it doesn't matter. I have the gun up and I can't miss from here. The bullet takes Vicious right through his cold, dark heart, and he collapses with a look of horror on his face. That's the difference, Vicious. You didn't mean to die here. Neither did I, directly. But I didn't care.
I stare up into the sky. My eyes, however, are focused inward. Instead of blue and the clouds, I see Julia, whispering those last words of hers.
"It's all a – dream."
And in that memory, I answer her. "Yeah. Just a dream."
You were right, Julia. It was a dream. Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet. But a dream all the same.
I descend the stairs one at a time, feeling myself dying slowly from the many wounds I've acquired recently. I hold my hand across my stomach, stemming the flow of blood from my mortal wound a bit. I should just die, but I've always been stubborn.
The Red Dragons – those who are left – stand in wait for me at the bottom. Though they all have guns, they don't shoot. They know who I am. And that if I'm still alive, then Vicious is not.
Poor confused Mafia. They've lost their leader. Well, I'm not going to be their new one. I raise my head and smirk at them. It was always my trademark.
I form my right hand into a gun and point it at them. I dropped the real one up near Vicious.
"Bang." One word, softly spoken. Yet it rings loudly in the dead silence up here.
Then I fall onto the stairs. Peace at last.
'You're gonna carry that weight...'
Not anymore I'm not. For me, it's all over.
Well, I'm done. I love random inspiration, I really do. I had to spend about half an hour pausing the last half of the Real Folk Blues Part 2 to get the dialogue, but it turned out pretty well. As read in the summary, this is my take on Spike's thoughts in that last half of the episode, and the coolest damn ending ever made.
This is obviously a one-shot. As for my other stuff, I'll finish Oh, My. Very iffy on Remnants, though. And the Feh Squad is probably out. I'm sorry - I just don't have the time. I'm pretty much reduced to about 4 hours a week in which I get to do whatever I want, and I can't spend it all writing. From now on, I'll stick to one shots. And finally, a special edition upgraded Tribute to Feh will be coming soon, in celebration of it's 32nd review. That story was a lot of fun.
Disclaimer: Bandai owns Bebop. Bandai owns Spike. And Vicious. And Faye, and Jet, and Julia, and everybody else related to that wonderful series. I own squat. I have no money. I want more Bebop. In fact, I would like to own it (wouldn't we all?). But I don't, so I'll have to be content at guessing Spike's thoughts for the end of Episode 26.
Hope all you people out there enjoyed this. I love feedback and will respond quickly, so feel free to email me at mlamdin@hotmail.com.
And of course, review. As if I needed to say it.