By Sailor Red
Cowboy Bebop belongs to Sunrise Inc. / Bandai Ent
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Chapter 4
What Emptiness is Like . . .
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Jet walked down the corridors of the hospital, his head swimming in negative thoughts. He felt more and more uneasy with every step he took towards Spike's room, Faye silently striding next to him, Ed running ahead with Ein nipping at her heals. Jet didn't want to enter that hospital room and see Spike's blank gaze. He didn't want to feel the sinking in his stomach that he knew he was going to feel when Spike said 'hi' to him like Jet was some sort of acquaintance and not the long time friend he was. He felt like shit, and he looked it as well. The hair he had was not groomed, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he couldn't help but think about the two of his bonsai's he had totally butchered last night from carelessness due to his drifting thoughts and worries about the fluffy haired man.
Faye didn't look much better. She walked like she was simply going through the motions. She felt like she was walking the footsteps of some random nurse or doctor from her past that had tread the same path when going to check up on her. She didn't want to be here, but she was compelled by some unimaginable force that caused her to feel for a man she had done nothing but fight with in the past. She was lead by her memories of her own pain and suffering that had occurred only three years ago, in the same hospital, in the same room, and in the same bed.
Even Ed looked a little worse for the wear. She wasn't as cheerful as usual, and seemed much quieter since she had seen Spike and Spike hadn't recognized her. So Ed ran. She didn't run away from the problem, but she didn't run to it either. She just ran, focused on the running instead of her thoughts which were sure to push her down should she think them. Ed would not slow down. She'd go and see Spike and then use an excuse to get out for a while . . . then she would run back. She couldn't stand in the same place for too long. She couldn't stop running, or she would cry. And Ed didn't cry. She was the ever cheerful one and would not allow herself to bring anyone else any further down then they already were. Everyone was stressed out enough already. She would not be the cause of anyone else's further worry or concern. That job was Spike's, as it always had been and probably always would be.
Ed reached for the doorknob to Spike's room, but another hand was placed on it before she could turn it. Nurse Cathy's hand.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Speigel isn't to have visitors until eleven this morning. He has to do some physical therapy . . ." Ed just blinked at the woman, shrugged and ran back to Jet and Faye.
Jet and Faye weren't as nonchalant as Ed. No, they weren't indifferent at all . . . they were pissed. The two of them went over to the nurse, Faye glared at Cathy . . . Jet angrily badgered the woman with questions.
"Why the hell didn't you tell us he'd be doin' physical therapy? What's wrong with him? What aren't you telling us?" Jet fumed. Cathy gave a 'help me' look to Faye and Faye jumped slightly as if a realization had dawned on her. She poked Jet in the shoulder.
"Er . . . Jet . . ." She started. Jet spun around fiercely.
"What!?" Faye rolled her eyes.
"Why don't you calm the fuck down. Spike's been off his feet a while. Christ. He probably needs to work on his legs a little." Jet glared at her for a minute and Faye just rolled her eyes again and turned to Cathy. "Is that it?" The nurse nodded and then scratched her head.
"I'm sorry I upset you Mr. Black . . . I didn't mean to hide anything from you, and I don't mean to keep you away from your friend, It's just that Mr. Speigel requested that you people would not see him when he's doing his physical therapy." She smirked. "I think he may be self-conscious . . ." Jet laughed at that and shook his head.
"Spike, self conscious? Hell no. He was probably just trying to make
it look like he cared about if we worried about him or not . . ." Jet said
bitterly, clenching his fist uncomfortably. Damn Spike. Damn him and his
manipulative shit. Once eleven o'clock rolled around he was going to give
that man a piece of his mind.
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The instant the physical therapist walked out of Spike's room, Jet stormed in. His anger had not cooled down in the hour long wait he had been forced to go through, no, it had increased. However, when he saw Spike upon entering the room, his anger seemed to fade away.
Spike was sitting up in bed, a cocky grin on his face, a cigarette dangling lazily from his right hand. The green haired man's eyes held a mischievous glint to them, and Jet just stared at the man in shock.
Spike looked like Spike. He didn't look like the stranger that had looked to him the day before and asked him who the hell he was. He didn't look like the lost child that had looked up to him and Faye, begging for answers. He looked like he knew some hilarious joke that he was just dying to tell Jet . . . but it also looked like he was waiting. He seemed to be holding out for someone or something else before he was going to get to the punch line, and immediately Jet wanted to know the joke.
Faye ran into the room like she was prepared to pry Jet's hands from Spike's neck. So, she was shocked when she entered and saw Jet just standing there, dumbfounded. She looked past him to Spike and gasped. Something was up. Something was most definitely up . . .
"I had a dream last night . . . " Spike spoke up, grinning ear to ear, delighting in the way he was making the two squirm. He took a long drag of his cigarette. "I had a dream, and in it . . . I was blown out of a cathedral window." Faye put her hand to her mouth and Spike laughed. "You still tone deaf, Faye?" Faye forced herself to only crack a grin through her shock. She didn't want to let Spike see how much that tiny comment had affected her. Her heart was beating wildly and she had to gulp down the cheerful shriek she wanted to let out like some five year old who had just been handed a lollipop. She had to resist the sudden urge to run up to the man and give him a bear hug. She shouldn't be this excited. It was just Spike after all . . .
"I never was tone-deaf, you asshole, you just can't tell talent when you hear it." She stuck her nose in the air jokingly. She was about to say something else but . . .
"Spike . . . you get your memory back?!" Jet was kinda slow on the uptake today . . . he had heard Spike's words when he had said them, but they just didn't click. Spike's face fell and he flicked his cigarette's ashes on the floor.
"No. Just that one. Heard a song on the radio and . . . well, I got the feelings behind the pictures in my eye . . ." Jet's face fell. Faye frowned . . . there was something nagging her about this whole situation. She mentally shook it off. It was probably nothing.
Then again . . .
"Spike . . . you've got an image of me in that eye?" Jet jumped and stared at Faye like she had grown an extra head. The purple haired woman was looking directly at Spike, her eyes set and unwavering. Spike looked at her quizzically.
"Well . . . yeah . . . " he answered, looking at the woman in confusion. Why did she look so shocked? Why did it look like she was going to cry? Why did he care . . . and, more importantly, why did he care that he cared?
Faye visibly gulped. 'No' she thought to herself. 'No, Faye, you will not cry. What the hell is wrong with you lately, anyway? You were never this soft before. You were tough. You were untouchable . . . so why do you care? Why do you care that . . . that you're a part of his dream . . . that there's an image of you in his dream eye . . . why the HELL do you care?' she shook her head. 'Enough. Cut the shit, Faye. Stop thinking.'
"Why?" Spike spoke, and Faye barely managed to catch herself from jumping.
"Huh?" Spike almost looked uncomfortable for a moment, like he had said something he didn't mean to say out loud. He recovered, though.
"Why do you want to know?" Faye smiled. She could get out of this one. At least for now . . .
"Spike, I told ya I wasn't going to tell you shit about yourself, so don't ask." Spike smirked.
"Fine, then I won't tell you anything else I remember." Faye's eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists. She walked over to Spike and slapped him. Hard. Fire lined her eyes. How the fuck could he say something like that? How COULD he!?
"What the FUCK Faye!"
"What the hell is wrong with you, Spike?! Haven't you figured it out yet?! Don't fucking joke about that shit to me, all right! Don't fucking DO that to me!" Spike's eyes narrowed and went cold.
"What are you talking about?"
"I have my reason's for not telling you anything. You MUST have felt something when you were getting all of those pictures fed to your fucked up little brain . . . how did it fucking feel to have a memory so close you can taste it, but you can't reach it? I won't fucking tell you anything, 'cause I know how that feels. I fucking know . . . and I don't want you to have to go through it anymore than you have to. I'm dying to just break down and tell you everything . . . but it'll just . . . you know what, Spike, SCREW YOU!" Faye screamed. The final straw had been pulled and she had broken. She wanted to hold back her anger. She didn't want to be screaming at him . . .
She didn't want to see the look that was in Spike's eyes when she rose her head to meet them.
Hurt. She had hurt him. She had never hurt him before . . . at least, not that she had ever seen. She felt guilty, and she hated it. She didn't want to feel guilty right now, she wanted to be angry. She wanted to be untouchable . . . but deep down she knew she wasn't. She wasn't even close. That damn green haired man made her venerable, and she HATED it. She wanted to run from it; She wanted to run from HIM.
He was making her feel.
Faye didn't want to feel . . . she wanted to be numb. She wanted to simply not care about anything or anyone. But Spike . . . Spike had fucked her up. He had gone and reduced her to tears again and again and again. Faye scowled, grabbed her cigarettes, and walked calmly out of the room, ignoring the sound of Spike's surprised call of her name.
Faye Valentine would not let herself attack herself through that man again. She needed to get her bearings. She was sick of being weak. She was sick of . . .
"FAYE! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Faye spun around in shock . . . how the . . . how did Spike . . . how did Spike get to his doorway? The man was leaning against the door frame, holding onto it for dear life, and panting from effort. Jet was close behind. Faye clenched her fists, looked at Jet, and turned away from Spike. "Faye . . . "
"Leave me alone, Spike. I'm sick of caring. You don't need me, Spike, you have Jet. He actually gives a shit about you, so don't bother with me." Faye was cold, but despite that, she felt the urge to vomit at her words. She was being a bitch. Well, that was how she was supposed to act, right? Then why did she feel so damn guilty?
"Fuck you, Faye. I need you here, and you're gonna run out? You're the only one who knows what this is like . . . what this emptiness is like . . ." Spike's voice faded out, and Jet yelled out suddenly in surprise.
Spike had collapsed.
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To Be Continued . . .
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Yeah, it's a little cliffhanger . . . I'm sorry this part is so short, it's just that my work schedule is insane this weekend, and I promised I'd get this up for the 8th, so . . .
Well, I shall see you with part 5 very soon. I've gotta do me some brainstorming for the next part. (Yes, I will actually use a legitimate writing process next chapter GASP!) -_-;
Ja!
This fic copyright March/April 2002 Sailor Red / Elaine Mahlecke