A/N: I am SO sorry for the late rewrite. Between school, work, and some personal things, I had trouble finding time to finish this chapter rewrite. It's completely new from the original Chapter 25 I had written, so it took a bit longer than expected. The good news is, Chapters 26 – 30 will be posted soon as they are complete, and an epilogue will be posted following the completion of the sequel.
Bebop Blues
Chapter 25: Elm
Punch.
Kick.
Turn.
Repeat.
With each motion, Faye tried in vain to quash the flurry of thoughts running through her head.
As she exited the gym and headed towards the bathroom for a long shower, she sighed heavily.
Perhaps the shower would ease her troubled mind instead.
The water poured on her as heavily as her thoughts.
Nope. Not a bit.
She toweled off and slipped into shorts and a tank top, her towel slung over her shoulders as her hair framed her face.
She paused a moment before entering the infirmary.
Another sigh escaped her, and she opened the door.
There lay Mai.
And sitting in the chair next to her, half strewn across the edge of the bed in slumber, was Roy.
Faye shook him lightly. "Get up."
He blinked and yawned as he sat straight. "I can't leave her."
"You need food and a shower, and I'm not a cook, a maid, or a personal assistant," she remarked.
He stood. "Guess you're right."
"I'll keep watch."
He nodded and took his leave.
Faye sighed again as she sat in the caregiver chair.
The conversation had become a routine between Faye and Roy.
Every night for the last two months, it had been the same story.
Faye propped her elbows on Mai's bed, intertwined her fingers, and rested her chin on the bridge created by her own comfort.
She stared at Mai intently, watching her chest move as she breathed deeply.
She had never seen someone comatose lay on their side, but with Mai's back in the condition that it was, it was apparent as to the need behind it.
Mai's eyes fluttered.
Faye blinked and craned her neck forward. She stared again.
Did she imagine that?
No movement.
She was about to heave another sigh (it was her most common form of communication these days) and lean back into her chair, but she stared a second longer, her face closer to Mai's this time.
The burn around her fake eye was nearly healed; Faye could tell from this distance that it wasn't going to leave the nicest of marks, though.
"Good morning to you, too, doll."
Raspy. Earth through a grinder. Somewhat living, but still hollow.
A dead woman waking.
"Mai!"
Mai rolled to her back and immediately winced. Her breath hitched as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. "Fuck…"
"Back on your side. You've still got burns."
Mai obeyed.
A few moments of deep breathing and she opened her eyes. "How long have I been dead?"
Faye shivered. She answered warily, unsure of whether or not Mai remembered her last bout of consciousness. "Two months."
"That's too long for Victor to still be walking a live man."
Faye felt relief wash over her. Mai didn't recall the last incident at all.
Mai's eyes darted around the room. "Where's –"
"Just ushered him out. He's dedicated to the point that someone needs to tell him to shower and eat."
"So he's alright. I'm glad."
"He took the lightest hit."
"You're unscathed as usual. I'm happy for that." Mai smiled at her.
Faye smiled back nervously. Mai was not acting her normal self.
"And Spike?"
"He's up and about. Finally back to one hundred percent as of last week."
"He took that hit for you; I didn't know how bad he took it."
"Yeah, well, he's fine." Faye twitched.
Mai laughed. "Fine, fine. You don't want to talk about."
Faye didn't want to talk.
About anything.
She had been so anxious for Mai to awaken, but now her rebirth loomed over her like an omen of ill-fated, unavoidable consequences.
Faye stood suddenly. "I'll go get Roy."
And without a glance at Mai, she left the room hurriedly.
The door slid shut.
"She's awake."
Faye groaned.
Spike was leaning against the wall next to the sliding door, his hands in his pockets, a bent joint in his mouth, and his eyes closed serenely.
"Where's Roy?"
Spike stood to his feet and let out a puff. "He left on some errand. He said he wouldn't be back until tomorrow."
"Are you kidding me? He just takes off –"
"After you tell him to go. He hasn't left once since she's been out. Bad timing."
Faye pursed her lips, but said nothing. She stormed towards the kitchen, Spike slouching as he followed her. She began opening cabinets and pulling out random assortments of food and spices. She wasn't much of a cook, but maybe food would take her mind off the lunkhead brothers and the she-dragon.
"So you're not even going to tell her he's gone?" Spike asked.
"I don't know what to tell her, Spike," Faye spat as she turned. Her finger was against his chest, and her eyes were lit with worry and frustration.
"It's all too real now, isn't it, Faye?"
"Can it." She pushed her bottom lip out further in disapproval. "Lunkhead," she added for good measure.
"Yeah. I know." He turned tail and left the kitchen, throwing a hand up as his departing sign.
Spike stood before the infirmary door a moment before lighting himself another joint.
No one liked entering the dragon's den; the pause before the doorframe seemed ritualistically necessary to retain one's wits.
The door slid open.
"Yo."
Mai smiled up at him as he walked in. "Hey."
"Roy stepped out for the first time since you've been unconscious."
"Ah. And Faye's avoiding me. Gotcha."
"Nothing slides by you," Spike smirked as he sat in the chair next to her.
"Could you help me up? I'd like to sit; I'm pretty sure my arm is asleep from lying in this position."
He leaned over to grasp her arms gently. "Faye and Roy moved you a few times to keep that from getting too bad."
Mai looped her arms around Spike's neck, and he reclined backwards to pull her forward. She rested her head on his shoulder a bit before straightening up. "Sorry about that. Apparently that takes a lot more energy than I've got at the moment."
"You're awfully soft." His implication was two-fold.
Mai's eyes glimmered. "It's only a matter of time…"
"So you've made your decision, then."
"We both know that I shouldn't be here right now, Spike."
Her voice was biting; there was the earthen firecracker he missed.
"Isn't that my line?"
She laughed. "Usually." She winced as she spoke, her new sitting position pulling at muscles she hadn't used previously.
She could feel her wrappings pull, and Spike could see the blood staining the once-white cloth.
She needed fresh bandages.
Just his luck: Roy was gone, and Faye was pulling a Faye and keeping her distance.
Damn Dashing Fox.
"I think I need fresh gauze," Mai said as she winced.
"Seems like it."
He looked around the room in search of something to aid his situation. Spotting a rolling bed tray, he stood and retrieved the item and a pillow. Dropping the pillow onto the tray, he rolled it to Mai so that it faced her.
"Lean forward."
She complied and unbuttoned her gown. She crossed her arms on top of the pillow and rested her head. "That was thoughtful of you."
He offered no response, but took the nearby medical scissors and cut the old bandages free.
"Can I steal a drag?"
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Should you be smoking?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
Deciding not to argue, he took a deep hit and leaned downward to face her. Nose to nose, the smoke lifted between them ominously. Her breath tickled his cheek as they stared eye to eye.
He pulled the cigarette from his lips, placed it between hers, and stood to complete his original task.
"Tastes like whiskey."
He remained silent as he pulled the fallen bandages from around Mai's stomach.
She inhaled slowly so as not to agitate her lung; coughing would be unwise.
"You should let it breathe."
He sat back down to light himself another cigarette.
"Probably. Surprised these suckers haven't healed, yet," she commented. She looked over at Spike as she sat up and pushed the tray aside; pulling her gown back to her shoulders, she raised an eyebrow to him. "You're nervous."
He blinked at her. "Nah."
"It's all over your body language, plain as day. You and Roy speak louder with your bodies than you do your mouths, just in different ways."
Her wording was deliberate.
And Spike wasn't an idiot.
"So why did you do it?"
"Because he wakes me from the dream." Mai always knew exactly what he meant.
He offered her another eyebrow raise, another question.
"Spike, it's not like you to deal in hypotheticals. You're too calculated for that."
Silence.
"But if you must know," she took a pause to return his joint to him.
He hadn't noticed that he finished his.
He took it, half-confused, half-curious, and inhaled deeply.
"Strawberry," she finished. "Though, right now it probably tastes like who-knows-what, because I seriously doubt anyone's brushed my teeth the last few months."
"Faye has." He smirked at her. "You know, she's usually the blunt one."
"She's cryptic her own style."
And they lingered in silence and smoke.
Faye punched and kicked and twirled again, this time with more fervor and anxiety than before.
"Didn't you do your kata already?" a voice asked behind her.
Faye wasn't in the mood.
Just like the lunkhead to be back earlier than expected.
"Maybe."
"Pent up frustration?" he asked casually.
"What do you want?" she snapped.
"I see why she likes you."
Faye rolled her eyes. "You know-"
"Thank you, Faye," he interrupted.
She stopped mid-punch. "Excuse me?"
Roy walked forward to stand next to her, lighting a Mai-brand cigarette leisurely before ambling forward to lean against the railing.
She gave up her practicing in favor of joining Roy.
She had been practicing on the Bebop.
Spike's old spot.
"I said thank you."
"For what?" She followed his lead and lit her own joint.
"For Mai."
Two words, and Faye knew everything they meant. For keeping Mai together when he couldn't, for supporting Mai when she was weak, for caring for Mai, for nursing Mai, for loving Mai in some strange way beyond sisterhood and just short of soul mate.
Faye was considering telling him of Mai's awakening for a split-second, but the last response sent her back into her fit. "Well, I didn't do it for you."
"And that's why I'm thanking you. You did it for her."
"And now you expect me to sit back and watch her walk into her own twisted fate."
"She'll do it of her own volition, Faye."
"But Rin-"
"And Rin has a right to live, too."
Faye pouted.
Damn Spiegels.
She was damn near sure she hated each and every one of them.
"You're so damn difficult," she finally muttered.
"Yeah. A real lunkhead," he agreed.
"She deserves better."
"She does."
Faye scoffed. "So why?"
"Because even Mai would make the choice," he answered solemnly. "She's just unlucky for it."
"Luck? Seriously? That's the best explanation you have?" Faye was exasperated.
"You tell me; you're Lady Luck in the flesh."
Faye snorted. "Hardly."
"Always unscathed, alive, and a winner."
"Spike's alive. Every time."
"Hardly unscathed. He gets beat to hell in the process. You, missie, stay flawlessly healthy."
"What are you getting at?"
He shrugged and flicked the remains of his second cigarette from his fingers. "Just making an observation."
Faye was not convinced. "Jet and Rose make it by just fine. Are they lucky, too?"
"People like Jet and Rose make their own luck. Karmically lucky. They put good into the world, so they get goodness back." He exhaled a ring of smoke. "You, on the other hand, are lucky for the sake of it. You may not win with the ponies or the slots, but fate gives you the luck you need to keep on living in this lawless universe. Cosmically lucky. If you ask me, that's a better ticket than karmic luck; it works because you will it so."
She had never thought of it that way.
Cosmically lucky.
Damn.
"So that's it, then. Mai has to meet her fate, luck or no luck."
"Precisely."
Faye sighed, resigned to the truth she couldn't bear. "She's awake, you know."
He turned to face her. "I'll have to see her then. No sense in squandering time."
He pivoted to leave.
"Hey Roy?"
"Yeah?"
"What'll happen? In the end?"
He answered without turning, his face to the ground and his shoulders heavy. "You'll live happily-ever-after, pixie, the way that the Great Spirit intends you to."
"And Spike?"
Roy laughed. "I don't think Lady Luck has it in her eyes to let him die any time soon."
As he passed the threshold of the room, he left one final thought. "I much rather have the cosmos on my side, than karma. It's not often frozen fairies get second chances, now, is it?"
And Faye lingered in sweat and silence.
"So, Spike."
"Yeah?"
"What do you intend to do? In the end?"
Spike blinked at her. He stood from his leaning position against the wall to open the cabinet near Mai's bed. Pulling out fresh bandages, he offered his response. "Find my reason to live, I guess."
"Oh?"
He shrugged as he sat on the edge of the bed, unraveling the roll of bandages in his thin fingers. "Dead men need reasons to live."
"Hardly dead."
"Hardly living," he countered.
She blinked before laughing. "You're blaming me for saving you."
He wrapped her torso slowly, his fingers working deliberately to remember the dragon. "I guess I feel cheated."
His words were heavier than they sounded.
"Don't blame me. I didn't know whether or not you'd survive. You fought the fight to live again, so really, you should be wondering why you cheated yourself from death."
"Or cheated myself out of life."
"So which was it?"
He said nothing, but finished re-bandaging her back.
Mai sat straight to see him more clearly. "Well?"
He let out a resigned "heh" and stood. "For once, it was just my luck."
"And what made you so damn lucky?"
He stretched his arms above his head and avoided her gaze. "A woman."
Mai laughed, her earthen timbre back in full-force. "Always a woman with you Spiegel boys."
Spike walked towards the door.
"Lady Luck isn't done with you yet, huh?"
Without turning to face her, he offered his resolved response. "Seems that way, doesn't it, sis?"
And he left the room without a second thought.
He walked purposely.
"Get yours," Spike commented as Roy passed him.
Roy grinned. "I missed her."
Spike pushed his hands into his pockets and headed towards the Bebop.
Some physical exertion would get his mind off things.
Faye was still practicing.
Spike said nothing as he eyed her and stripped to his sweatpants.
He walked to Faye and proceeded to practice on his own. The same motions, but in his style.
Faye frowned as frustration took her. She furrowed her brow and concentrated on her motions. "I'm off."
She was filling the unbearable silence with anything words she could.
Spike glanced at her to observe her kick again. "By a hair."
"I can feel it. My weight is off on my left foot when I pull my right one up to kick. I'm leaning too far right."
Spike put a hand to her shoulder and twisted her slightly. "You're not relaxing."
Filling the silence betrayed her.
This was even heavier air.
Spike moved a hand to her hip to shift her stance.
Her breath hitched.
"Stop tensing."
"You make that damn difficult."
He said nothing but moved his hand from her shoulder to slide it down her arm. He stopped at her wrist, lightly pulled her arm further from her torso, and repeated his previous sentiments. "You're balance is off because you're tense."
He didn't acknowledge her remark.
She balled her hand, the one he was practically holding, and moved her arm forward to change positions.
She twisted out of his grasp, his hand remaining on her hip.
She tensed again.
He frowned and spoke, the cigarette in his mouth dangling from the edge of his lips. "Faye."
"Spike," she leveled.
He removed his hand and shrugged, deciding to take the high ground.
He started his kicks and punches again.
Faye watched him.
Confusion.
When he was done, Faye was still staring.
He raised an eyebrow to her. "Something wrong?"
"Why are you alive?" she blurted.
He raised an eyebrow to her, but continued his actions. "Is that really what you want to ask, Faye?"
She put her hands on her hips and leaned towards his face, annoyance clear in her eyes. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want an answer."
He smirked. "Fine. I told you I wasn't going there to die."
"Yeah."
His smirk grew as he rested on his feet. He turned exit, deciding that his training was no longer necessary.
"That didn't answer my question," she yelled to his retreating figure.
He stopped at the door and glanced over his shoulder, his profile prominent and firm. "Ask again, Faye."
She frowned, but persisted. "Why are you alive?"
He closed his eyes momentarily. "I was going there to see if I was alive." He paused to light a cigarette. After a puff, he faced the door, and as he crossed the threshold, he finished his answer. "And I suppose Lady Luck decided I was."