In all the time I've known Spike, I knew that he was a troubled man. We have our own burdens to carry, but Spike always carried his too close to his heart.
Everywhere he and I went, he acted restlessly; it was as if he had nothing to lose. He didn't care if he lived or not. A part of him was missing.
I never questioned him about his past. A man has no business digging his nose in someone else's stuff. But on occasion I was tempted to simply because of my own safety. I liked to think he and I had an understanding, but whenever the action came, Spike left without so much as a plan.
He had a good heart, but it was torn. We developed a good friendship over the years we hunted together, but Spike could never really commit. His heart was in two and it was too late when I found out how badly the pieces were ripped apart.
I remember all the times I told him not to come back to Bebop. It was my ship and if he kept carelessly leaving, I didn't want to be a part of it. After all, I still liked to think of myself as an I.S.S.B officer. I never wanted to do the wrong thing. Spike did what was necessary, whether it was with or against the law. But I always forgave him in the end.
The last day I spoke to him, he told me a story of a tiger cat. This cat died a million times and lived a million times. He had various owners, but none he really cared about. But one day, he became a stray cat and ran into a beautiful white female cat. The two lived happily, but only for a while. The white cat got weak and old, eventually dying. The tiger cat cried a million tears and then died as well.
Sometimes heartache is just too much for a man to bear. I now know that Spike loved her with all his being. Knowing she wasn't living, he died the exact moment that bullet pierced her body. He went out with a big bang, but it wasn't really him.
Spike had a troubled past. He was a troubled man. He loved a troubled woman. And I'm afraid I never truly fully understood him… until it was too late.
Goodbye, Spike Speigel. Be free.
-- Jet Black