Bang

Lin.  Julia.  Vicious.  Untold members of the Red Dragon.  All dead because of him, whether directly or indirectly, all their deaths were on his head.  Jet had been shot, wounded in the thigh by the bullet, because of him.  Faye's ship was half-destroyed if not worse and the Bebop wasn't exactly fairing well either.  Once again, his fault.  It seemed, to him anyway, that he was the root of all the problems in his life, and in the lives of everyone he was close to or tried to be near.  Maybe it was better that he was dying, that way he couldn't be held accountable for any more deaths, that way the pain would end.  With each faltering step he took, another wave of agony took him, even the hurt from dozens of scrapes and bruises was causing him more suffering than he cared to imagine.  Funny, he had always thought that death would be more or less painless, this was anything but.  And still, the guilt eroding his mind and burning his conscience was more powerful, more painful than the combined pain of all his injuries, mortal and slight.  He let out a grunt of pain as he went down another step.

Step.  Ouch.  Another stumbling step to get both feet down on the same stair.

                His thoughts were hazy, little more than a chaotic whorl …everything fading in and out and mixing together …the faces of the surviving members of the Red Dragon Syndicate disappearing from his vision as his thoughts drifted to Julia, his love, Vicious's love.  If only she had stayed down like he ordered, then maybe …no.  There had been more men on the way and she would have been a pathetically easy target if she had remained on the ground.  They were used to taking risks in order to survive, it was something one learned early on if they wanted to rise to the top in the syndicate or to escape somehow.  She had the option to leave and she had chosen to stay with him …not much of a choice really, in the end it was inevitable.  He hadn't been able to get away from it and neither had she and so in the end they were consumed by it, like all the others, like Shin and Lin and Vicious and the Elders.  The Red Dragon Syndicate would have them all soon, and …he wasn't sure what would happen to the others now, now that there was no absolute leader, now that the Elders were murdered and the prime candidates for succession dead.  That didn't matter …in the end, all that mattered was them, the three …Julia …dead …Vicious …

                He and Vicious had always been so alike, and yet so different.  In the end, they had both known how things would go down.  They had been like brothers in the beginning, working together and fighting together …Julia had been Vicious's from the start, but things had spiraled into chaos.  He hadn't planned on falling so hard for Julia, and he certainly hadn't expected her to reciprocate, but he had known that once they had been together, he could no longer stay there in the syndicate.  For the first time in his life, something had mattered more to him, but …apparently things hadn't been meant to be for he and Julia.  He could only imagine how Vicious would have felt once he found out that the two people closest to him had betrayed him …blood of my blood …it was too late.  It was over.  Vicious was dead, and he would be soon to follow …

Step.  More pain …he staggered slightly as he worked to put his other foot down.

                His thoughts eddied again and focused on Jet Black …his partner, his friend.  Jet had known what was running through Spike's mind as he had eaten the cursed meal of bell peppers and beef.  His last meal …his last conversation with the man who had pulled him from the fire countless times, and for whom he had returned the favor.  He hoped that Jet's leg wasn't bothering him, it hadn't been his intention for his friend to be shot.  He wondered vaguely if Jet had ever told him about how he had lost his real arm …if he had, the memory of it was not forthcoming.  The two of them had been shrouded in mystery from themselves and even from each other …but Jet was a solid, reliable soul, someone you could depend on and trust while he on the other hand …he brought death and pain to those he cared most about.  A cursed life …a cursed life that was too soon to end, if he could be any judge of the matter.

                He was dying.  Hadn't he already been dead once though?  How many times could a person die anyway?  Unless he was truly like the cat in the story, doomed to live a million lives and to die a million deaths before meeting his one love and having her die, only then to die himself and to be freed at last.  He could feel his own blood, hot and sticky, soaking through his trench coat and bringing him ever closer to death.  There would be no miracle recoveries this time, Faye and Jet wouldn't be there to bind his wounds and to heal him.  Jet's ship had been shot up to hell in the assault by the syndicate when they had been searching for him.  Faye's ship was even worse, again because of him …Faye …

Step.  Stumble, bleed, and moan.  Both feet on same stair, good.  Step, step …

                Faye, with her own jaded past, a past that she couldn't fully recall.  Wait.  What had she told him before he left?  She remembered …she had gone to her past and she had remembered …at least her haunting past would not be her grave.  She had been scared to stop him from leaving, scared to try, but even more scared of letting him leave without saying goodbye in her own unique way.  No joking or tales to try and lighten the moment as it had been with Jet.  It had been Faye he was facing, Faye who had to confront him, Faye whom he had given a piece of his past.  He had never told anyone before how he had lost his eye, never really seen it as worth mentioning …he had shocked her, frightened her, and maybe even brought her close to understanding why he had left.  It wasn't to avenge Julia, although that was part of it.  It wasn't to die uselessly in a battle that had been foretold.  'They are fated to die at each other's hands.'  Fate was a bitch, but so was life.  Faye was the only one who could possibly understand what he was facing, what he had to do.  He wondered if she knew what he meant, wondered if she understood now …oh well, no matter …

                He realized he regretted never saying goodbye to Edward or Ein, the strange and nearly inseparable duo …the ingenious pair who had left before him.  Gone to find their place in this crazy world, and he found himself rooting them on.  His mind was muddled and slipping further, thankfully he could no longer remember the pain and humiliation from being beaten up by Ed's father.  Oh, he would not have lasted long in a ring with that fellow …good eggs though, a welcome change they had been from the bell peppers and beef, and the occasional bad mushroom.  He found himself missing the girl and dog, and smiled ruefully at that.  Maybe someday they would return to the Bebop, Jet would never turn them away …they'd all be fine without him …

Step.  The Syndicate members were there again, watching him.  Step.  Stop.  He grinned weakly and raised his arm, making the shape of a gun with his hand.  "Bang."  …And he was borne away on a wave of ever-fading pain …

It's been a wild ride, Space Cowboy …