Sympathy for the Damned

Literary Eden

Chapter 1

This story was written soley for the enjoyment of myself and the readers.
I do not own, nor do I claim to own, Cowboy Bebop or any of it characters in any way.

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There was nothing. Nothing but the stale stench of smoke and the cling of tears. Her hair hung in her eyes as she lifted a cigarette to her lips. The Glock was cold in her hand, her index finger curled between trigger and bar. Between annihilation and life. Between what should have been her choice and what she chose.

Faye chuckled and took another drag, watching as the cherry brightened. She exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around her upper lip and past her nose. The second hit was deeper and it stretched her lungs. She let it out hard in a short, barking laugh. She took again. And again.

She focused on the monotony and it gave her relief, glued a makeshift patch over her shredded heart. It was a happy deception, and for a moment... Faye almost believed he was back on that couch.

Glowing ashes sprayed like sparks as the cigarette hit the wall. She turned her face toward the hanger hatch, her chest heaving from exhertion and cold ache smoldering behind her eyes. Bastard.

She could still feel the hard vibration of the door closing behind him, hear the cool echo of his footsteps, see the disregard in his lanky ass posture. Spike was dead long before he left - a corpse walking toward the inevitable and away from her.

"Faye, come on. Spike-"

"Fuck off."

She saw Jet stiffen from the corner of her eye, shocked not by her crudeness, but by the rawness of her voice. Such emotion, such weakness; what a pussy she was turning out to be. Damn that Spiegel.

"Suit yourself."

With clunking footsteps he left, flicking off the light. Faye watched her world darken with sullen eyes, the chill of the wall biting into her back. Her legs ached from stiffness and she stretched them out, groaning, cursing. Her Glock was heavy in her palm as she lowered it to her lap.

"By the way," Jet called from the stairs, "You look like hell."

Faye frowned and said nothing, running her free hand through her hair and pushing her bangs away from her face. Her lipstick and mascara had to be smeared, her cheeks splotchy, and she could fell the puffyness around her eyes. The ugly result of all her blubbering. She lifted an impartial shoulder; what the hell did it matter? It wasn't like he was coming back anyway.

She winced at the sting of that thought and closed her eyes, pressing the hull of her palm to her forehead. Damp with sweat, the skin there sighed against the chill of her hand. It settled her nerves some. Once she positive she wasn't going to cry, Faye cracked her eyes open, the lids heavy with exhaustion. She gazed into the darkness, traced the mechanical patterns of the grate in the floor, and saw his eye.

She cursed and bent a knee, laying her head against it. Gone, just when she thought she had nothing left to lose. Fucking. Bastard.

Faye slipped her hand into her shirt and tugged a fresh Marlbro from her cleavage. Turning her head, she placed it between her lips and snaped open her silver Zippo, setting blaze to the tip. The flame reflected in the glass sea of her eyes, mocking the extinguished fire within them.

With a grunt, she cracked the lighter closed and inhaled deeply, savoring the dry taste of tobacco and the nicotine clench of her lungs. With burning ash glowing orange in the darkness, she heard his voice in her head. A sadistic chuckle rumbled in her throat and Faye lifted her gun. Pressing the barrel to her temple, smoke billowed past her lips and clouded around her face.

Closing her eyes, Faye pulled the trigger.

Click.

"Bang."


I had to repost this, because unfortunately FF dot net was doing werid things with it before... like putting words where they didn't belong, etc. Anyway, not sure if this is going to remain a one-shot or not. I had plans before for it, but now I'm working on other things. Anyway, review!