This is the first real fanfic that I will ever publish, and might just be my last. It depends on how you guys like it. First off, you may not publish this on your website without my direct permission. That means that you have to email me and ask me if you can use it, give me your website, and agree not to modify this in any way. That means keeping it as an HTML file so that all the rich text is preserved, and so that anybody, in any browser and platform, can read it without worrying about file extensions.
To avoid any confusion, the italicized words are Faye's thoughts. Also, the dialogue in this until Spike leaves is actual dialogue from episode 26, and believe me, I had to bust my ass to get the actual dialogue ;)
You can find this file at http://www.fayevalentine.net/ in case you're interested in the source. The alternate source for this file is at fanfiction.net
Now, a bit about the fanfic.
This fanfic takes place in episode 26. Now, before you go skipping it, it is not your average fanfic, where Spike isn't dead, and he miraculously survives and goes back to the Bebop to be Faye's lover and Jet's best friend again. No. Not going to happen. Rather, it is based on Faye's thoughts, her motivations, and her emotions. I wanted to express a view of the 26th episode that I have held ever since I first saw it, and to somehow tell everyone the story that I was told.
I really hope that you enjoy this. If you have any comments for me, email me: jupe@fayevalentine.net and let me know your thoughts. Flames will be deleted, and only intelligent questions will be answered (I get a lot of mail) :)
Anyway, here it is. Hope you like.
Don't
by Jupe
The room was quiet as Faye Valentine lay on her bed. The darkness of the room, usually comforting, seemed unbearable at the moment. For the past day, she had been lethargic, as she wanted to be left alone with her thoughts - with the shock of remembering not just fragments, but the entirety of her past. She sat up slowly and leaned on her arms for support. Her head hung, and her eyes were slightly closed. She tried to shake the overbearing fatigue she felt. Exhaling softly, she listened; in the distance, she heard the echoes of voices: not just Jet's, but Spike's as well. She had a sinking feeling, but she had to see him. She stood, pulled her red jacket over her arms, and instinctively picked up her handgun. Exhaling once again, this time more heavily, she walked towards the voices.
In the living area, Jet Black was talking to Spike. Spike had just eaten a plate of Jet's beef with bell peppers - Faye could smell the pungent spices, and the thought of eating his cooking made her ill. She approached the doorway, but stopped short of entering, hoping neither Jet nor Spike heard her. The first thing she had heard upon entering the corridor was laughter, though not happy laughter, if there is such a thing. The laughing was forced, pained. Jet spoke first.
he said, Can I ask you one thing?
She heard Spike walking towards the hallway, but his footsteps stopped. he replied.
Jet spoke softly. Is it for the woman?
Spike waited for several moments before answering; his answer as softly spoken as Jet's question was asked. There is nothing I can do for a dead woman.
Faye leaned against the wall, outside of the room, and looked blankly at the wall across from her. Dead woman? Could she really be..? He's leaving us. She stepped forward from the wall, and then towards the doorway, holding the gun up to Spike's head as he passed through the archway into the hall. He stopped walking.
Where are you going? she asked. Spike looked at her quietly. You're leaving. Why are you leaving? Narrowing her eyes, she spoke aloud. Why are you going? All Spike did was look at her. She lowered the gun, uncertain of what he was going to do next. The silence seemed to last a millennium. You told me once... that the past didn't matter!" she yelled. Hypocrisy at its best. Was he angry at her? Or was he ashamed of himself? You're the one who's tied to their past! she yelled. Furiously, she glared at him. Still, he stood there, the same calm, peaceful look on his face, and the more he looked at her with those eyes, with that face, the angrier she became. Suddenly, he stepped forward. It startled her and she jerked backwards, but still, he leaned forward. Is he going to kiss me? No, he wouldn't. Never. He's too serious, and his eyes are too cold.
Look at these eyes, he said. She did. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. She was surprised at his intensity. She looked more deeply into his eyes, and remembered that one of them had always been slightly different. She had noticed that the iris of his right eye was slightly redder than his left eye, which was brown, but she had never bothered to ask. Since then, he said, I have been seeing the past in one eye, and the present in the other. I believed that what I saw was not all of reality... He straightened his stance; the two still stood uncomfortably close, but not touching. The silence lasted another millennium. She bit her lip to fend off the tears that she felt welling up in her eyes. She wouldn't cry in front of him. Briefly, she had a fantasy of crying, and Spike comforting her, but she knew deep down that he never would. He would never love her. Her voice, though choked back at first, came out steady. Don't tell me things like that... Her voice grew louder, until she was shouting without even realizing it. You never told me anything about yourself! Don't tell me stuff like that now! Why did he wait to tell her anything!? He acted like he cared! Every time he came to her rescue, every time he had given in to her often foul and selfish ways.. he had never been selfish to her. Well, except for now. Briefly, she hated him for it, but she loved him more than she ever wanted to hate him, and so the brief flame of hatred was doused.
Spike was still calm, his voice still soft. I thought I was watching a dream that I would never awaken from, he told her. A faint smile played across his lips. She wondered how he could possibly be happy at a time like this, but realized that it wasn't happiness he felt. No, more like the deepest remorse any human being has ever felt. She began to question even her own remorse for lost time, lost love.. He continued, Before I knew it, the dream was all over.
Don't leave us.. Don't leave me... Anything, to keep you here, Spike.. Please don't leave me. Finally, something came to her mind. In that second, he had begun to walk away. She turned her back to him, and looked at her feet.
My memory came back. He paused. Good. Maybe he wants to stay. He's listening, at least. But nothing good came out of it. There was no place for me to return to. She felt her hands which hung limply at her hips begin to tremble like a leaf blown by a gentle breeze. Was he looking at her? Or was he waiting for her to finish speaking so he could go out and kill himself? This was the only place that I could go back to! but now.... She briefly felt his gaze upon her, but only briefly. She became more urgent. She would do anything to keep him, to have him as a lover, as a friend, even as an enemy. She just wanted to be near him. He began to walk away, and she heard his quiet footsteps all too clearly. Where are you going!? Why do you have to go!?
She turned quickly and almost reached to touch his shoulder, but couldn't. It didn't seem right. She stood next to him, he facing straight forward, she facing the side of his head. He didn't look at her, but he listened to her, and that was enough for now. Are you telling me you're just going to throw your life away!? Her voice echoed throughout the entire hallway. There was no doubt in her mind that Jet could hear their conversation. She knew that he wouldn't ask questions, but she would tell him again what happened later. She had a feeling he would listen this once, and understand.
Another millennium of silence passed before Spike spoke again. He was so sure of himself that Faye's eyes began to well up with hot tears.
I'm not going there to die. He looked up, but still didn't make eye contact with her. I'm going there to see if I really am alive. He began to walk again.
Don't leave me. Spike, do not leave me. These thoughts raced through her head. She raised her gun and aimed between his shoulders. I should wound him. Then he won't be able to go. Briefly, she imagined shooting him, only in the leg. She imagined him falling, and her running to him to drag him to bed, even if he was kicking and screaming, but the more she imagined, the more steps he took away from her. I can't shoot him. Instead, she raised her arm and fired at the ceiling.
Bang! You can't do this!
Bang! Don't leave me!
Bang! Leave the past behind!
Bang! We love you!
Bang! I love you!
The large door of the docking bay opened and shut with a loud slam. She knew that he was climbing into the Swordfish and flying away. She knew that she would never see him again. She slumped against the wall and dropped the gun. Her entire body shook, and she let the tears flow from her eyes. You idiot.. you stupid damned fool..! She sunk until she was crouched on the floor, her tears running down her face, onto her knees, and even some down her legs. She didn't bother wiping them away. All she wanted was Spike, more than anything else in her life. She never wanted anything more.. and now he was gone. She didn't tell him how she felt, but maybe he already knew. If the Red-Tail wasn't damaged so much, and if Jet wasn't too injured to fix it, she could go after him... but these were IFs, and not AREs. She sat there for a long time: longer than she cared to realize, until she heard the uneven, struggling steps of her remaining comrade in the hallway beside her. She looked up at him, and he looked at her. Coming to rub salt in my wounds? To say that you told me so? He came back, and now he's gone... To her surprise, Jet laboriously bent over and took her by the elbow. She understood this as a silent encouragement to stand up. She let him help her stand.
"Your crying was getting to me," he quietly said.
Spike's gone, she replied. She knew that it was a stupid thing to say, as he obviously knew that, already. Jet just nodded to her, and for the first time in ever having known him, he showed compassion. He wiped the tears from her face, the stain of her mascara tainting his fingertip. Without warning, she hugged him. She needed comfort, and he seemed to understand, because after a moment of hesitation, he even hugged her back.
Several hours passed. To Faye, it was as though she had relived the missing years of her life on her bed, half-covered by blankets. Her pillowcase was stained from makeup, but dry, as her tears could no longer flow. She left her room and joined Jet on the bridge. She looked out of the window, towards Mars. Jet stood next to her, likely thinking the same thing she was. She felt a dull stab just below her rib cage, then an aching pain. When she thought she felt that she could cry no more, her eyes released a fresh downpour, and her body jerked with emotion. She looked at Jet, and he at her. He nodded, because he understood. He felt the same pain.
Together, they would carry that weight for Spike.
