Well, now that I've shoveled enough snow to last me a lifetime, I'm finally sitting down to post this next chapter...enjoy!

Session Thirty Six

"How many you think you got?" Jet asked tiredly.

"About ninety percent," Malcolm answered from the phone screen. Jet sat at the shogi board in the bridge, the other chair empty as he smoked a cigarette this morning. He rubbed a hand over his face. It had been two days since the attack on the Dragon Tower. Malcolm looked none the worse for wear after his shoot out in the Tower - just a few fading bruises and cuts.

"And the leaders?" Jet asked, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth.

"We've got the Snake and Tiger heads in custody. Villanova and Draugh were both confirmed dead at the Tower," Malcolm said. "I think we can successfully say this was the end of the Syndicates."

"Yeah," Jet agreed, but there wasn't much enthusiasm in his voice.

"Jet…?" Malcolm let the question hang in the air between them.

Jet shook his head.

Malcolm sighed. "Well, if you ever need anything at ISSP, just let me know. Or, if you, uh, you know, want to take on any bounties, there were a few members we know escaped. I'm sure you guys could wrap them up."

"Maybe later, Malcolm," Jet said. "It's too soon for that."

"Yeah," Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Jet."

"It's not your fault," Jet said gruffly.

"Seriously, if I can help…"

Jet shut off the phone and took a long draw on his cigarette. He knew Malcolm meant well. But it was hard to listen to his enthusiasm right now. Jet put his chin in his hand and sighed, trying to clear his mind.

And that was when he heard the scream.

The scream nearly gave him a heart attack. He groaned, eyes slowly sliding into focus as a blurry shape took place over his head. A bouncing, grinning, wide-eyed, red-headed blurry shape doing cartwheels across the room. Then she bounded up onto the arm of the couch, crowing like a rooster. A worried bark sounded as claws skittered across the floor and Ein came streaking into the living room.

The over-excited red-headed shape scooped him up and squeezed him until he yelped in protest. "Ein! Say hi, Ein!" she ecstatically waved one of the dog's paws in his direction. "Leo's awake!" Ed shouted triumphantly.

Leon groaned and immediately wished he wasn't awake. Or that he was at least deaf.

"Ed," he croaked, voice rusty and dry.

"Jet, Faye Faye!" Ed shouted, still at the top of her lungs.

"Ed," he forced himself to be louder.

"LEO'S ALIVE!"

"Ed!" he almost managed a yell even though it set his head pounding and his ears ringing.

"What?" She blinked, as if noticing him for the first time.

"Keep it down...will you?" he pleaded.

"Oh!" Ed's eyes got wider still. "Sorry, Leo," she whispered. "But Ed's so glad to see you awake! Do you want Ed to get you anything?"

Leon nodded as his eyes finally decided to agree with each other and send him a clear image of Ed perched on the arm of the couch at his feet, Ein held tightly to her chest. "Water," he mumbled.

"Right!" Ed set Ein down and jumped off the couch. She grabbed a pitcher and a cup from the coffee table, where Leon could see clean bandages, bowls, and other medical supplies spread out. Ed poured some water in the cup, then knelt by Leon's head and propped him up with one arm. She held the cup to his mouth and let him drink. Leon had never tasted anything more refreshing in his life. After he emptied the cup, Ed put it back on the table and lowered him to the couch again.

"Thanks, Ed," Leon said as footsteps clattered from the direction of the bridge and the bedrooms and Jet and Faye burst into the living room, both with expressions of trepidation on their faces, like they were expecting to find something horrible and nightmarish. Both of them broke into expressions of relief as they saw Leon.

Faye practically flung herself at the couch, coming to lean over the back of it.

"Leon." Her eyes were wider than Ed's. "You are alive!"

Jet ran up and sank into one of the chairs facing the couch where he promptly ran a hand over his head. "I thought you were dead, kid," he said.

"We all did," Ed said solemnly.

"Nah...it'll take more than that...to kill me."

"Not much more," Faye mumbled.

Jet glared at her.

She looked away.

"How do you feel, kid?" Jet asked.

"Well…" Leon shifted uncomfortably under the layers of bandages on his torso. His right arm was wrapped close to his chest in a sling again and his left knee felt swollen and stiff. There were so many stings across his body from minor cuts and bruises that they all formed one throbbing message of pain pounding his skull along with his heartbeat. "I feel...kind of like I fell two stories and got stabbed with a katana."

"Oh, good," Ed sighed.

"Good?" Leon raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yup! Because that's exactly what happened!" Ed exclaimed. "If you felt something different then you might be going cuckoo." Ed crossed her eyes and waggled her fingers beside her head.

Jet chuckled and even Faye cracked a smile. "Well, I guess that's one way to make sure your sanity is intact," Jet said.

"Yeah...I guess it is," Leon said softly as his eyes drifted closed again. But a smile tugged at his mouth. He was back on the Bebop, and all his friends were safe.

When he woke up next, the living room was dark, the main lights turned off. He turned his head to find Faye reading a book by lamplight at a chair in the corner of the room. He stared at her absently until she looked up. She blinked, her mouth turning down into a pout.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Did the light wake you?" Without waiting for an answer, she put her book down and flicked the lamp off, throwing the room into the haunting blue glow of the safety lights on the staircase. It took Leon's eyes a moment to adjust to the dark - his left took a second longer than his right. He saw Faye stand up and cross the room, an indistinct shadow backlit in blue. She perched on the edge of the couch near his feet.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Alive," he answered.

"That's good. Do you need anything?"

Leon shook his head slowly.

Faye sighed and looked down at her sweater, playing with a loose string hanging off her sleeve.

"What time is it?" Leon asked.

"About three in the morning," Faye said.

"Were you...staying up for me?"

"Well, yeah. Somebody's been up with you every night since the Tower."

"Really?"

Faye nodded. "We weren't about to leave you in here by yourself, lunkhead."

"That bad, huh?" Leon whispered.

"We honestly thought you were dead. But Ed found a heartbeat and somehow she and Jet coaxed you back to life. We haven't left you alone since."

Leon lay in the dark for a long moment, silent. Back in the Tower, he'd been certain he was going to die. The pain alone was worse that anything he'd felt before and even now he could feel the constant throb of the cuts and bruises he'd acquired, including one sharp knife of pain in his right side. But at least he could breathe through the pain now. And no one wanted him dead. He was beginning to think that life wasn't such a faraway prospect after all.

Leon watched Faye in profile, her dark hair haloed in soft blue.

"Hey...so, about what I...did," she said, licking her lips. "You know, when I called the Dragon and almost…" she faltered. "Almost got you killed," she finished in a steady voice. "I-I'm sorry."

Leon didn't answer.

Faye frowned and looked away so her face was in profile again. "I loved him," she said without preamble. "But he loved her," a bitter note crept into her voice. "And I could see why, when I finally met her. Your mother. She was...an angel. Spike was truly lucky. Even if I'd had the chance to try and convince him otherwise, I don't think he would have ever seen past her. And I was...jealous."

Faye hung her head, strands of dark hair falling in front of her face, obscuring her expression. "But I miss him more than I've ever missed anything else in my life. And then you showed up and you were...a cruel illusion. You have so much of him in you, but you're also part of her. And I felt myself wanting to take you in and push you out all at once. But I didn't think I could stand it if I had to watch you die at the feet of the Dragon. Because then I'd be watching him die all over again. I didn't think about what it meant for Leon to die. I was only thinking of myself and a vision of the past."

Faye broke off and bit her lip, her teeth white against her dark lips in the half-light.

"And then I realized that I was looking at this all wrong. I wasn't the only one who missed Spike. But I was the one who still needed to let him go. I was protecting myself when I called Villanova. I didn't think about what that would mean for you, or Jet, or Ed. I only wish I figured it all out before I wrote you a death sentence," she whispered. "So, if you want to hate me, I understand. But I am sorry, for what that's worth."

Leon stared up at the ceiling fan over their heads. For once it was still. Faye sat stiff and unmoving at his feet. He hadn't had much time to think about what happened at the Tower, but as he thought on it now, he realized that he didn't feel that hot-fire rage that burned in his chest before. He didn't feel that ice-cold betrayal that stabbed him back at the casino. He wasn't sure exactly what he did feel. Some part of him felt empty, drained and used up, like there wasn't enough emotion left to actually feel anything. Some part of him just felt relieved that all this was over.

"Faye," he finally said. "I don't hate you."

Faye shifted, a little tilt of her shoulders, but she didn't raise her head.

"Would you...forgive me?" she asked.

Leon shifted so that he was propped higher against the arm of the couch, half-sitting. He hissed as pain lanced through his side, hot and sharp.

Faye leaned forward, a worried expression on her face. He waved her away weakly.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I haven't thought that...far ahead yet. I had time to learn more about my father while I was in the Tower. And I think that I'm beginning to understand just how long a shadow he cast. I don't think I can blame you for loving him. I can blame you for what you did to me."

"Do you?" she asked.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

Faye sniffed and Leon thought he caught a glint of tears on her cheeks "I don't know," she admitted.

Leon was silent. Finally he spoke again. "I won't pretend I wasn't angry, Faye. Hurt. Betrayed. I spent a lot of time in the Tower thinking about what I'd do to you when I got out. But that...doesn't matter anymore. I don't feel hate anymore. I don't feel anger or betrayal. I don't feel...anything." Leon sagged back against the couch, sleep dragging at him again.

"Leon…" Faye looked up at him then, the silver flash of tears on her face and a hint of fear in her eyes. Faye reached out as if to touch him and make sure he was still there. She settled for brushing his hand with hers.

"I can feel that," he whispered, eyes drifting closed. "I'm not dying, Faye."

He felt Faye squeeze his hand, then she shifted, but she didn't get up.

He fell asleep with the weight of Faye's body at the other end of the couch.

A week later, Leon lay on the couch in the living room, watching the lazy ceiling fan make slow turns over his head. As soon as they landed on Ganymede, Jet had fetched a doctor and brought him to the ship to see Leon. The doctor had been both surprised and impressed at Ed's stitching job and the fact that Leon was doing as well as he was. It seemed that aside from a good deal of pain and a few broken ribs, there was no serious internal damage from the sword. He declared Leon's collarbone fractured again and cautioned him to wear the sling once he was back on his feet. His knee was a bit worse, something about wrenched muscles, but the doctor seemed to think it would heal too, given the time. Leon had been given more pain meds than he could count and instructed to spend the next several weeks resting. He spent the next few days sleeping off a drug-induced haze. But now, almost ten days since the Tower, he felt he'd go crazy if Jet confined him to the couch one more day. Although still heavily swathed in bandages, Leon thought he could risk moving as long as he took it slow.

The Bebop was quiet right now. Faye and Ed had gone into town to buy supplies and food and Jet was elsewhere in the ship, probably doing repairs and maintenance. Ein lay curled in one of the chairs across the room, sleeping with his head resting on his paws.

Leon took a deep breath and propped himself up on the couch. He was able to sit up on his own now at least. He sat still for a while, watching Ein sleep.

"Ein," he called softly.

The little corgi's ears twitched.

"Ein, wake up, buddy," Leon said.

Ein yawned, showing off all his teeth, then blinked sleepily at Leon. His butt started wiggling and his tongue lolled out of his mouth when he noticed Leon was awake.

"That's a good boy, Ein. Now, I need you to help me find Jet, ok?"

Ein tilted his head, as if he were listening. Then he stood up and jumped off the chair, barking twice and running in a circle.

"Right, find Jet, Ein," Leon said.

Ein wagged his butt some more and ran over to the stairs leading to the bridge.

"Of course he would be upstairs," Leon muttered. "Alright, here we go."

Leon put his feet on the floor and took a deep breath, then stood up slowly. He kept a hand on the couch until he felt like he had his balance, then straightened until he stood at his full height. Although he felt dizzy, nothing threatened to give out on him and he didn't feel like he'd pitch into the floor at the first step. So far, so good.

He shivered now that he was standing, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and the bandages on his torso. He looked around the living room for a shirt, but didn't see one, so he settled for wrapping a blanket from the couch around his shoulders. He took his first step hesitantly, like a small child learning how to walk. Only no one held his hands to make sure he didn't fall. He winced as his left knee took weight, but it held and he limped over to the stairs without falling flat on his face.

Ein tilted his head as Leon walked up and leaned heavily on the stair railing. He whined softly, as if to ask, Are you sure about this?

"Go on," Leon waved a hand up the stairs. "I'll be fine."

Ein scampered up a few stairs, then stopped, looking back at Leon. Leon gave the corgi a smile, then braced himself and headed up the stairs. Ein beat him to the top then turned and barked, wagging his butt. Leon worked his way up slowly. By the time he made it to the top, he could feel sweat dripping down his face and back, and he stopped to catch his breath, feeling like he'd just run a long distance. He doubled over, one hand propped against his knee and the other pressed to his side. Ein whined again and ran a few steps toward the bridge.

"Don't you do it, Ein," Leon panted. "If you get Jet...he'll send me back to that horrible couch."

Ein's tongue lolled out of his mouth again and Leon realized he was talking to a dog. He rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't understand anyway," he said. "Just give me a second...to catch my breath."

Ein sat and waited on him patiently. After a few seconds, Leon straightened up and walked into the bridge. Another small flight of stairs awaited him, but he got through these by sheer willpower. When he got to the top of the stairs, he could see Jet sitting in the pilot's seat, running diagnostics on the Bebop. He had a clipboard in one hand and he was muttering to himself, probably counting up the price of replacement parts.

Leon shuffled up to the navigator's chair, Ein running ahead of him barking.

Jet turned around at the same time Leon half-fell into the chair, wincing as he sat down faster than he meant to.

"Leon! What are you doing up here?" Jet demanded, his eyebrows drawn into a frown.

"Aw, you're not...happy to see me, Jet?" Leon said, a little breathless.

"I'm not happy to see you out of bed."

"You can't expect me to sit on that couch all day!" Leon exclaimed. "I'll go crazy."

Jet rolled his eyes. "Heaven forbid you sit still for a few days of your life."

Leon gave him what he hoped was a stern look.

When Jet spoke next, he spoke slowly, as if he were shaping the words before he said them. "If you don't mind my asking, kid...what happened at the Tower? You know, after you fell."

Leon was silent for a long moment. He looked down at where Ein curled at his feet, a warm fuzzy body pressed against his ankles. He felt something in his chest tighten that had nothing to do with his still-healing injuries.

"Jet…" his breath hitched. "I killed her." He gripped the arms of his chair with white knuckles.

"I know," Jet said softly. "Draugh hinted at it when we pulled you out of the Tower."

Leon looked ahead for a long moment.

"Was she the first?" Jet asked.

"That close, yeah," Leon said. "I mean, I've shot at people before. And I've killed in self-defense or to save someone else's life. But not when I could see it in their eyes. Not when I stood there...and watched them die."

"I take it that's why she got you," Jet said, gesturing at Leon's right side.

"Yeah," Leon dropped his head into his hands. "Because I wasn't cold-blooded enough to just pull the trigger."

Jet stared out the bridge windows at the calm Ganymede evening for a long moment. He knew the feeling Leon had. He'd had it too, back when he was a young policeman and an undercover mission went south. He'd shot the guy in the head in the backseat of a car. He'd watched the surprise on the guy's face just before he collapsed over himself, becoming something less than human. A puddle of organs and flesh and bone. Jet had considered himself tough back then. And no one ever accused him of being soft. But it still shook him to the core, even though the other guy had been trying to kill him at the time. He could only imagine what Leon felt, especially after having been through whatever the Dragon subjected him to beforehand.

Finally, Jet spoke. "There are a lot of things we have to decide in life, kid. One of those is where we aim our bullets. And sometimes, that means shooting to kill, whether we want to or not. It's never an easy choice, even when you're protecting something you love. But sometimes it's the only choice you can make."

"Yeah, but is it the right choice?" Leon asked.

"Sometimes."

Leon looked up at him then. "Jet, was my father as bloodthirsty as Villanova said?"

"What did she say?"

"That he wouldn't hesitate to shoot her. Is that true?"

Jet sighed. "Spike was a lot of things, Leon. And one of them was a killer. I won't pretend he didn't have a lot of blood in his past. After all, he was Syndicate and he was one of the Dragon's top enforcers. There was a side of him that was just as cold and deadly as that Jericho you carry. But it wasn't the only side of him." Jet paused, giving Leon a smile. "I also saw your father take in lost strays and give them a home, even if he did complain about it most days. I think complaining was his way of covering up his sentimental side. He brought all of us together, after all." Jet gestured around the Bebop. "And at his core, Spike was a lover. If given the chance, I think he would've settled down with Julia and lived out a quiet life in some unknown town. Especially if he knew about you. But that wasn't the hand he got dealt. So would he have pulled the trigger? I can't say for sure. He might've."

"But I did," Leon said.

"And now you feel emptier for it," Jet said.

"Yeah. I thought…" Leon bit his lip. "I thought I wanted her dead, Jet. But it feels...wrong, somehow."

"That's because you've got a heart, kid. It'll never be easy, making the choice to end a life. But the pain does fade. And memories get old. I won't lie, you're gonna carry that weight. Just don't let it define you."

Leon nodded. "And Draugh?" he asked quietly.

"Dead," Jet said.

"I thought so. I saw it in his eyes when he told me he would get me out."

"Yeah...and there was that side of Spike too," Jet said.

"What side is that?"

"The side that made everybody respect him so damn much, even the people who hated him."

"Well," Leon ran a hand through his hair. "I guess that's one side of him worth looking up to."

"You got that right, kid," Jet agreed.

And I even got a quote in from the show ;)