1 am. Dead man Waking
A/N: I may continue this into a story, it depends on the response I get! If so, the title will mean something. Otherwise, nope, no relevence at all. The conversation Faye and Spike have is made up, by the way.
Disclaimer: No, I'm sorry, I don't own Cowboy Bebop. Drats.
Summary: May continue into story! Title will mean something then! Faye visits Spike's grave, their last conversation echoing round her. Who grieves whom? Implied (at the moment) SpikexFaye...kinda, anyway.
'Dead don't hear the livings pleas, Faye.'
'But why can't the dead grieve the living? Why must it be the other way around?'
'I don't know...maybe it is...'
'You're lying.'
'No, I'm not.'
'Yes you are, your eye twitches when you lie.'
A laugh.
'Nicely worked out Poker Alice.'
'I worked it out when we first met, when you were leaning your chin on your hand, pushing the skin round your eye back.'
'Well noticed.'
...
'Why?'
...
'Why Spike? Why won't you tell me? You've died before! Did you grieve when you were dead?'
'I am dead.'
'Are you grieving now?'
'...'
'Spike?'
'Yes. Yes I am.'
Faye remember that day very clearly in her mind. It was the day he went to die, right before he talked with Jet about some dum cat story. She wanted him to stay - it didn't work, he went off to find Julia. She wanted him to stay instead of going after Vicious, she told him of her memories coming back, even held a gun to him, but still he went.
Dead man Walking.
It was at this moment Faye broke down and cried. She cried and cried infront of his empty grave, the headstone the only material thing left of him.
His words upon the headstone, words Jet had found on an old piece of paper in his back blue trouser pocket when doing the laundry said:
I'll take the beatings for you, but I swear love isn't the reason.
And I'll take the bullet; I'll let you free while I am caged.
The dark hour will be our only moment alone
Except the times when you visit my grave.
And Faye wept.
She could only imagine if the words were for her, at all.
-PapP
-Becky