The steady hum of the ship was disquieting in some way. Normally, I liked the sound, enjoyed it because it gave me something to listen to besides the silence. Somehow, today was different. Today it felt as if the noise simply amplified the silence and made it all that more unbearable. I wanted to hear the sounds of people running around. I wanted to hear the sound of Ein barking and Ed laughing while rushing around with enough noise for a herd of elephants. I wanted to hear Faye fighting with Spike over whose fault it was that they had lost the last bounty and who had to give up their dinner. I wanted to hear Spike.
I lowered my head. I knew that I shouldn't dwell on things like these. I knew I needed to move on, but it was hard. I just needed to stop thinking about it. I needed to stop thinking.
Deciding that I needed to be around people; needed to kill the silence, I made my way outside. I just couldn't stay there any longer. Faye was in her room doing God only knows what, and I could pretty much assume that Ed and Ein were long gone and I wouldn't see them again. The night air was cool against my skin, relieving some of the tension that I had been feeling cooped up inside. It was hot inside of the Bebop. The cooling system was broken yet again and I just couldn't figure out how to fix it without a very expensive part that we just couldn't afford. Well, to tell the truth, we couldn't afford it and still be able to eat for the next month or so.
Up ahead and to the left, I saw a few people stagger drunkenly from a bar. That sounded like a good idea. I could just go and get completely shit-faced. Yeah, maybe that was just what I needed. I knew that if nothing else, it would at least let me forget for a little while.
Wandering into the bar, I saw that all the stools next to the actual bar were pretty full. After a moment's hesitation, I sit down on an empty stool between a tall blonde man and a short magenta haired woman. The sound of an old jazz tune filled the air, letting me know that at least I wouldn't have to listen to bad music while I was here. Things were looking better and better. I knew that this wouldn't solve all of my problems, but at least it would keep me from losing my mind.
Wasting almost no time, the blonde man finished off his drink and turned to me. "So, what's your story?" he asked, looking me directly in the eyes. He seemed as though he had nothing to hide. Either that or he was a very good liar.
He looked nice enough, though, but I knew for a fact that looks could be deceiving. He was fairly clean and wore a long, red coat that buttoned up the front in two neat rows. His face was friendly looking enough, with blue eyes that shined with what could have been either childish hope or booze; possibly both. He had a birthmark just below his left eye, which gave him a sort of pretty-boy look. Something deep inside me told me that I had seen his picture somewhere before, but I just couldn't bring myself to care at this point in time. He was somebody to talk to. He was a friendly face in a crowd of self-pitying slugs.
"It's a long one," I confided, waving my hand to get the bartenders attention. "How long have you got?"
The man smiled at me a little, looking down at the empty glass he held before looking back up to me again. "I have all night," he answered, giving a very honest and open look.
Before I knew it, I had had one too many drinks and told the stranger almost everything that had happened since all of the Bebop crew had gotten together; at least the important parts. Retelling the death of Spike was just like reliving it. I felt a tear slide down my face and realized that I hadn't actually talked about it with anybody. I didn't think that Faye had either, but there was nothing I could do to help her if I couldn't help myself. I kept thinking back to all of the good times that we had had together, before that last showdown. Then I couldn't help thinking of the way Spike had looked when I identified the body. I found myself regretting that I hadn't stopped Spike. I knew that it was something he had to do, but he didn't need to do it right then. He could have waited until he had gotten better, until he was sure he'd win…until he was too old to have even done it. "I just don't think that I can take it anymore. Sometimes I wish that I had been nicer to him. I kicked him out of the damned ship too many times! I should have let him know just how much I cared about him." I paused a moment, mulling over my own emotions. "Sometimes I wish that I had been stricter. That I hadn't let him get away with the things that he did. That I hadn't let him feel like he could survive anything. I don't think it would have worked anyway, but that one chance…" I trailed off, letting the thought hang for a moment. "Just the idea that something I could have done might have made that difference between his life and death, keeps tearing at me. It keeps eating me up inside." I slammed the glass down onto the bar with enough force that it nearly shattered. "I don't know why the hell he always had to do things his way!"
The blond man looked at me, some sad recognition in his eyes. "I know how you feel. I know how it feels to just not be able to do anything to save somebody." The man bowed his head as if in remembrance of those who have been lost by everybody.
I was vaguely aware of the bartender refilling our drinks, and I held out the money to pay for them. "It's on the house," he said, waving away the money.
I finally looked back up from my glass at the kind stranger. "To those that we've lost," I said, holding up the glass.
"To those that we've lost," repeated the blonde, clinking his glass against mine.
In one swift motion, both glasses were drained. Sitting in silence, we both stared down at the glasses, mulling over our pain and loss. I felt a connection with the man that I still hadn't learned the name of. I think that we both felt it. We weren't alone. Even if it weren't him, somebody else would know my pain. But for now, he was the one that was there for me, offering silent support. I was tempted to take that support, but in the end, my own sense of pride got in the way. I slowly got up from the stool and turned to say goodbye to the man, but found that he had already gone. I was alone again. I was once again the only one dealing with this sorrow.
Making my way back to the Bebop, I consider for a moment what the man had been talking about. I didn't know. I wasn't even sure that I cared. At that moment, all of my grief belonged to Spike. I just couldn't say goodbye to him. I just couldn't let go. Something in the back of my head wondered if I would ever get over it, but I already knew the answer to that. I knew that the loss of Spike would always be a gaping wound in my heart.
Looking to the sky, I keep thinking of him. He was out up there somewhere…forever lost…forever gone. I fell to the ground in a heap and simply lay there. I had no desire to get up. I had not urge to move. I wasn't sure if I would ever get up again. Why did you have to leave us, Spike?
