Disclaimer to Story: This work is created by a fan, hence it being posted in this site. Original characters and storyline belong to the rightful owners of Cowboy Bebop.
Thank you for opening my story. Please take the time to read the author notes at the end of the story, but most importantly, enjoy!
* * * Ch. 1 – UNDER CONTROL (The Strokes) * * *
I am never in control of my life. Or rather, someone always manages to screw things up for me. That's how my entire life has been. And still is I guess.
"Are you feeling better?"
No.
"Are you hungry?"
No.
"Well…at least you made it okay. For a second the doctor thought you were a goner. Ha, aren't you one lucky man!"
No.
No, I am not lucky. I am pitiful. This is not what I have wanted; I don't want anything more to begin with. I was done living—but this is usual isn't it? Me being torn away from what I want and shoved into whatever position others find more convenient.
I keep my eyes closed and pretend not to be awake. If anyone else walked in, they would think I'm dead. Somehow, right now, I would really like that.
The nurse comes back but since I didn't respond to him earlier, he doesn't pretend to care about how I'm feeling. I just lay there, motionless, until I hear him finally leaving the side of the bed. I don't realize, but at some point, I fall asleep. Whatever time I spend sleeping keeps me from having to fake I'm happy to be here. So, all in all, it's okay.
"Mr. Spiegel can you hear me."
I don't understand what's with male nurses. As I lazily open my eyes, my sight is out of focus and I have to blink a few times before I can see things again. To my misfortune, the first thing I notice is the face of my nurse. He'd leaned over me trying to replace my IV bag and I can see his bushy, red eyebrows relaxed over his small, grayish-blue eyes. I try to avert his gaze and instead focus on his pointy nose and thin lips. I close my eyes and hear him step back. Once he does this, I open my eyes again.
"You have a visitor," he says as he picks up the tablet from the foot of my bed. "Do you feel well enough to see him?"
No.
"The doctor wants to see how well you react to others. So I'll let him stay for a few minutes. Okay?"
I'd already expected that. Why bother responding to his question anyway?
He steps outside. I lay there looking up at the ceiling. Not that there's much to see, only white paint.
"Spike."
I turn around quickly, probably moving faster than I've been moving in a while.
"Jet," I say. But it's barely audible since the sound gets caught at the back of my tongue. I clear my throat but Jet only laughs. I say it again just to redeem myself.
I try to sit up but Jet stops me by putting his hand up. He looks around and picks up a chair near the door. He brings it closer to me and sits down. There are two other patients sleeping in the room. I suppose he doesn't want to speak too loudly and wake them up.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks.
"No," I answer.
He looks down at the ground for a minute. He clicks his tongue three times and rubs the back of his neck. He slouches on the chair and rests his arms on his legs. I don't know how much time this takes up. Since I do nothing, it feels like forever.
"How are you?" he says now.
"Augh…alive I guess."
"I figured as much…" he says. He thinks for a minute and then says, "You know, a long time ago I heard this story about a cat."
"Really?" I say without interest. Even though I have a vague idea, I don't know where he's going with this.
"Yeah…"
"What's it about?" I ask. But even if I hadn't, I'm sure he would have told me either way.
"It's just an old story. But basically, this one cat can't seem to let go of his past life."
"It sounds familiar…" I say, "But you know I hate cats."
"I know," he answers coolly. "But you know what I don't understand?"
He stops talking so I guess he wants me to respond. "What's that?"
"Cats have nine lives."
"So?"
"Isn't it stupid for him to keep living in that one since he's got another eight left? I mean, even if he loses that one he's still got seven. Damn, that cat can die eight times and still be able to live."
My wit fails me and I can't respond. And for the first time, I'm very happy to see the nurse stepping into the room. He waits a second, but seeing that neither Jet nor I are speaking, he unnecessarily clears his throat to interrupt us.
"Excuse me, that's all we can let you stay for now," he says. It's such a polite way to say 'get out.' I wonder when he perfected speaking like that.
"That's alright," Jet responds. "Well, Spike…"
He says nothing else after that and leaves the room like if he knew I had a lot of thinking to do. Damn Jet. He always does that.
The nurse looks at me bitterly. I guess he heard me actually responding to Jet. Well, it really doesn't matter as much. At four, he will be finishing up his shift and someone else will replace him. But the more I think about it, it's only two and if he has anything else for me, I'm sure it will be hell. Well…it's only two hours. And I'm already perfectly acquainted with hell anyway. Either way, I hope, that if anything, the nurse that replaces him is Kelly; the woman with the round hips and pretty blue eyes.
I put Jet's comments and the nurse's stare at the back of my mind. I turn in bed and close my eyes. Maybe by the time I wake up, it will already be past four.
I don't dream of anything other than Julia. I hate that. And every single time I see her, or rather, dream of her, I hate this even more. I wish I could stop; have a switch somewhere in my brain that I could flick and have her erased forever.
I can't even rest, even if I'm sleeping most of the time. Ironically, when my dreams turn into nightmares, I think that's when I actually get any rest. And I guess those started as soon as I gained consciousness again, but only in short intervals. It must be a little more than three week since then. I really don't know. I've been trying to forget about time.
I do sleep past four. In fact, I wake up the next day at noon. It's the weekend. I can tell because the nurse this morning is the quiet brunette. Because of that, I expect today will be another day entirely dedicated to sleeping.
"Morning," she says once she notices I'm staring at her.
I nod.
She comes over to me and starts injecting things into my arms. I'm getting really used to this part and I can't even feel the pain of the needles anymore. Which is good I guess.
After she is done, she picks up the tablet and scratches a few things on the surface with the stylus. She places it down again and slides the food table over my bed. She brings the food tray and places it on the table. She helps me sit up, even if I don't need her help anymore. She seems to be glad I'm recuperating because she's got this small smile on her face. She hides it from me, and then slides the food table closer.
"I'm not hungry," I tell her.
"I was told you didn't eat anything since lunch yesterday."
She hands me a spoon and proceeds to the next bed. I stare at the food as she goes through a similar procedure with both Walker and Jeff, the two guys who share the room with me. They're good patients: they eat all their food and answer all the questions. And they don't snore either.
I stare at the purees on the tray and dip the spoon into the one that looks less harmless. I can't even tell what it's supposed to be made out of. But I finish it. And the next one too. I'm not hungry. But it isn't like I have anything better to do.
The nurse cleans up our trays, satisfied that we all ate well, and leaves the room. I remain sitting up, something I hadn't done before. So I just sit there staring at my hands. I can tell Walker and Jeff are staring at me so I look up to meet their gazes. Walker smiles awkwardly and looks away. Jeff, who is the friendliest in the room, doesn't.
"I'm Jeff and this is Walker," he says. Walker looks back at me again and lifts his hand, slightly waving it. I already know their names though. And they already know mine, but even then, he asks "And you?"
"Spike." I don't know why I answer. Maybe I'm bored.
"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he starts talking to me like if he'd known me for a long time. I can't keep up with a third of the things he's saying and he barely waits or asks for me, or Walker for that matter, to comment. Still, it didn't catch me off guard when he asks how I ended up here.
"I don't know," I say. "It just happened." And I'm being honest about that.
"I hear you," Walker adds hoarsely. "Same thing happened to me. I was picking up my briefcase from the sidewalk and next thing I knew I was here, neck almost snapped." He laughs. Which is funny because by now I've figured out that there's something wrong with his voice.
His expression—his voice makes me smirk. And then suddenly I realize: I'd spent hours listening to these two. I don't know why I hadn't noticed before. Rather than doing nothing, watching or hearing others made the time pass much faster. And I need that.
That afternoon, just before visiting hours end, Walker gets a visit. By this time, however, the nurse has gotten tired of hearing Jeff talking and has asked all of us to rest. So, I'm lying in bed, pretending to be asleep again.
The visitor is a woman. I can tell because she's wearing heels, and unlike someone like Faye, who'd mastered walking silently, every step of this woman echoes in the room. After her footsteps fade, I hear her and Walker whispering for a while. Then the nurse walks in and tells her visiting hours are over. Her heels resonate on the floor again and then she's gone. As soon as the door closes, I hear Jeff whispering "Lucky." And after that, I fall asleep.
The next morning Jeff interrogates Walker. And I stay awake through the whole thing. Half the time though, I'm thinking whether Jet will show up today, hoping that he doesn't. I hadn't given his words much thought, and quite honestly, I don't feel like doing so. I know I should. But I've been so fixated with Julia for so long. If I give up on her, I feel like I betray her. The hardest thing of all though is that she really is gone now. And since she's gone—entirely—it's impossible for me not to falter and begin to give up. Still. I shouldn't be thinking like this.
"Hey, Spike!" Jeff says loudly.
I look up at him but he isn't even looking back. I follow his gaze past the frame of the door and into the hallway. There, I see our favorite nurse walking towards our room. But someone else catches my eye instead. Is Faye walking behind her?
I sit up in bed to see better; but by that time, they have already reached our room. Kelly and Faye stand next too each other. It's no wonder Faye disappeared standing behind our nurse; Kelly is easily half a foot taller. They finish speaking and then Kelly turns to see me.
"You have a visitor," she says before walking away.
Faye is still standing by the doorway. I look at her once and realize that this is a lot more awkward than I had expected. She walks into the room and stands about two feet away from my bedside. She doesn't even make eye contact with me. She looks at my arm first and follows the line of the IV until her gaze reaches the IV bag.
Suddenly, she turns to face me and my pulse freezes for a second. "Jet told me to come," she says very clearly.
"I see," I tell her. It's incredibly uncomfortable and I feel forced to continue talking. But I'm not really feeling positive so I say, "He gave up on me pretty quickly this time around, didn't he?"
"I wouldn't say that," Faye says passively. "He just went to pick Ed up…Her dad's gonna be on some long expedition and Ed said she would rather stay at the Bebop instead of following him this time…It's kind of odd really."
"What is?"
"Well, it seems that Jet's got custody of her half the time even though he's really not her father…I don't mind though."
"It gets quiet when she's not there." It's so obvious I feel stupid for having spoken at all.
But she responds, "That's why I don't mind."
Then, Faye sighs gently. I can smell the nicotine lingering on her breath and skin. And since I haven't smoked in what seems like forever, I have the strong urge of pulling her down and licking her all over.
"The nurse told me you're doing well," she says after a few seconds of silence.
"I guess," I answer hastily, looking down and staring at the needle in my arm while trying to dismiss my previous idea.
The needle is itching.
Why hadn't I noticed before? I look up at the doorway and I see Kelly walking in to check on the other two. She comes to me next and asks if I'm fine. "My arm itches," I say pointing at the spot where the needle is inserted.
"I'll take a look at it," she says.
Faye's in her way, but she steps back before the nurse even asks her to. Faye moves to the foot of the bed and says, "Well, I'm going."
She turns to leave but Kelly says, "It's alright, this won't take long. You can stay longer."
Faye looks at me then watches as the needle is removed from my arm. Her face distorts a little at the sight. Since I'm used to it now, I don't have any reaction, not even when the new needle is being inserted.
"It's okay," she says to the nurse. Then, she turns to me again and says, "I'll tell Jet I came by."
She doesn't say goodbye or anything. She walks out of the room as casually as she'd come in. And that's the end of it.
The nurse watches her leave and stares back at me as if blaming me for having done something wrong. I don't see why she cares. It's not like Faye and I were having an actual conversation to begin. But as far as Kelly is concerned, she's definitely lost her spot on my list of favorite nurses and is being replaced by the quiet brunette whose name I can't pronounce.
As Kelly begins to leave, I wonder what Jeff and Walker will ask. Jeff looks at Walker then at me. "This is not fair," he says bitterly, "I want a girlfriend too." I'm about to interrupt him to let him know Faye and I are nothing when he says, "Even that old guy that visited you has a pretty girl."
"Pretty?" Walker cuts in with his weird voice, "She made me reconsider my ten-year relationship with Carla…And Carla is pretty."
I should laugh. But somehow I really don't feel like it. What would Jet and Faye say if they were here?
Soon, Jeff and Walker begin arguing whether or not Faye and Jet are in a relationship, without even bothering to question me about it. I listen to them shortly before I realize that I'm interrogation free. Just to make sure it's kept that way, I turn in bed and go to sleep before they notice I'm no longer paying attention.
Several weeks pass, and after seeing Faye that once, Jet becomes my only visitor. It's fine this way though. This is better.
However, the longer I stay here, the more unbearable it becomes, especially after Jeff's release. I force myself to sleep and take forever doing whatever activity can take up time. When I have nothing to do, I sit there counting my pulse. It gets to a point past pathetic. Thankfully though, this helps enough to keep me busy until my release day.
By the time it comes, I can't stand this place anymore. I guess Jet also knows this because he arrives very early in the morning. We manage to take care of the paperwork quickly and are ready to leave by nine-thirty. Walker, who's still got a little longer, says goodbye. Kelly is there too, but I kind of ignore her. Then, Jet and I walk out of the hospital.
It's a bad day. It's cloudy and stuffy and it looks like it will start raining soon. But I'm so relieved to be out of the hospital's white walls that it doesn't seem as bad as it should. As we walk down the steps of the hospital, I notice water marks punching into the concrete. After a few seconds, I look up and watch the water start pouring. And I can hear her. I can hear her voice in the rain. And all I can think is: I don't want to be here.
* * * Ch. 1 End, Continued on Ch. 2 * * *
Updates: If all goes as planned, this story should be updated on a weekly basis. (I've finished writing all but the last chapter; all I need to do is proofread the existing chapters.)
About the titles: It was incredibly hard for me to come up with appropriate names for the chapters. My plan was for them to be song names, but I didn't realize it would be so hard to write first then try and find a song that suited the chapter. Thankfully, I was able to find a suitable song for each chapter without having to rewrite anything. But let me tell you, it was fun whenever a song played and I realized it would be perfect for the story. Knowing that, each chapter title is a song name and in parenthesis is the band/artist name. I encourage you guys to listen to those songs. Apart from being great, they definitely set the mood for the story.
Interesting fact: For those of you who have read "Crazy," you might find it interesting to know that I wrote this as a self-response to that story…
Please review and keep an eye out for the next chapter.
See you soon cowboys!