Author's Note: Well, a change of pace, I guess. Still a songfic, like the other two things I've got on ffnet, but as far as staying true to the plot of the series, Spike stays dead. I wrote this in about half an hour, so it may not be that great. I wrote it mainly to break a long period of writer's block, and besides, I've seen worse stories before. No harm, no foul or something like that.
Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop isn't mine. I think you could have guessed that. Nor are the lyrics found in the story mine, they're Chris Cornell's. "Say Hello to Heaven" is by Temple of the Dog. I'm using their song shamelessly for my own benefit. Don't even bother to sue me for any mental anguish you're going through. You will not win.
Say Hello to Heaven
It's been six months now.
I imagine you're dead by now, Spike.
It took me almost ten minutes to write that sentence.
Someone told me once that if you write a letter to someone close to you who's died, it's supposed to ease the pain. I've started about a hundred letters to you and it still hasn't worked. Then again, maybe you're supposed to finish them.
Please, mother mercy
Take me from this place
And the long-winded curses
I hear in my head
Like I said, I've written a lot of letters to you. Or tried to. Whatever. Always, always, I couldn't continue. Most of them either devoid of emotion or fierce diatribes, furious tirades, full of curses and oaths. I wanted to think that somehow you'd be getting this, and that wasn't how I wanted to leave things with you. Every one of those letters is still in the bottom of some drawer somewhere, just sitting there. Out of sight. Out of mind.
If only I could do that with you.
Words never listen
And teachers never learn
Now I'm warm from the candle
But I feel to cold to burn
I have so many good memories of you. I actually liked the fights we used to have, you know, once they became familiar. I think that's why I felt the way I did about you. You became familiar. Eventually you were the most consistent thing I had, you and Jet and Ed and Ein. That's why I always left. I was afraid I'd lose that familiarity one day. But that familiarity was why I always came back. All of you... you were my family. Complete with the dog.
All these good memories are constantly flooding back, threatening me with tears. Tears are the one thing I can't handle, because once I start, I'm afraid I won't be able to stop. I'm trying so hard to forget about you, to become that cold bitch again. But dammit, somehow you changed me. I hate you for that. But I love for it as well.
He came from an island
And died from the street
He hurt so bad like a soul breaking
But he never said nothing to me
You were so strange to me at first, but as I got used to you I wanted to know more about you. Then I met Vicious and was actually--God forbid--concerned about you. Then Julia appeared and I was outright afraid for you. When she died, and I heard you telling Jet that story, the story about the cats, I saw how terribly it affected you. I knew then what you were going to do, and I was determined to stop you. I didn't want to be right about my comrades leaving me, and I had every intention of shooting you. Then you told me about your eyes. That caught me off guard. I couldn't shoot you like I'd planned. All I could do was fire those five shots into the air. I saw you stop for a second, and I hoped that you'd turn around, come back, stay.
I wish you had told me more, Spike.
So say hello to heaven
I never used to think too much about God or heaven or hell. But like I said, I'd rather think you're getting this somehow. If there's a heaven, I'm sure you're there. How could you not be? You were a good person, with a conscience, though you tried to act like you were lacking in that department.
Poor stargazer
She's got no tears in her eyes
She knows that love heals all wounds with time
Now it seems like too much love is never enough
I still refuse to cry. Somehow I don't think you'd be too pleased seeing me cry. But I want to. I want to so terribly. My eyes are burning from holding the tears ack, but I'm doing it. For you, I guess.
You were the closest I ever came to really loving someone. It wasn't that kind of love--I think it's more or less like what sibling feel toward each other. But now I don't have love. I haven't been back to the Bebop yet. I really want to. I miss Jet a lot, and I've been wondering about Edward. But it hurts so much. I know, I'm showing that selfishness again. I feel terrible for just abandoning Jet like that, and maybe I'll get back there sometime.
I never wanted to write these words down for you
With the pages of phrases
Of things we'll never do
I'm coming to a close with this letter, and I realize I wish I had told you all this before you left. Maybe I could have held you back... I doubt it. But the thought keeps nagging me, and it won't leave me alone.
So I blow out the candle
And I put you to bed
After I finish this, I'm going to seal it in an envelope, put it in the drawer with the others, and never open it again. I've got to move on now. I'll always have your memory, always dream about you. But all the sadness and loss and guilt is right here, on paper, in black and white for you to "read."
There's one tearstain. Just one.
Since you can't say to me now
How the dogs broke your bone
There's only one thing left to be said...
I don't know how you died. There's no way for me to be certain you're even dead in the first place. But somehow, I just know. Jet told me about some medicine man, some shaman. "Running Bull" or something... The shaman said that everyone has a star, that's born with that person and dies with that person.
The night you left, I saw a star. It burst really brightly, a supernova. Then it burned out.
I love you, Spike. I know I'll see you again someday.
Say hello to heaven...