By Sailor Red
Cowboy Bebop belongs to Sunrise inc, Bandai ent. and not me.
Quotes in *'s are from the song Haunted by Poe
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Chapter 5
Haunted
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*"Come here, pretty please.
Can you tell me where I am?
You, won't you say something?
I need to get my bearings.
I'm lost and the shadows keep on changing . . ."*
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Faye didn't have to think twice as she saw Spike fall to the floor. She ran.
She ran away, all things blurring through her misty eyes, all of the beeps meshing together, all of the antiseptic smells nonexistent in her mad dash to the door. This was her only chance. This was her only chance to get out of here, to get away from the memories, to get away from him. A good part of her, no, an enormous part of her wanted to stay, wanted to be there, wanted to make sure that Spike was all right. But the part of her that didn't want her to stay, that stubborn, unreasonable part of her that screamed for her freedom, forced her to run. She couldn't take this anymore. She was losing her sense of self, and how the hell was she supposed to help anyone remember themselves if she didn't quite know who she was? But still . . .
But still . . .
She wanted to stay. She wanted to help. She wanted more than anything else to turn and run back, to tell Spike that she was sorry. To explain things to him. Not that he'd care, but . . .
She didn't want to go. She didn't ever want to leave his side. And that's what terrified her.
So she left the building, jumping into the Red Tail and setting her coordinates before she had a chance to change her mind. Once they were set, there was no going back. She didn't have enough propellant to turn around and return to the hospital . . . not without bringing in some money first. Her bounty was still on Ganymede, and that was a good a place as any to get her mind off of everything happening on Mars. It was a good way to forget Spike for a while. She had to forget him, or she'd go mad.
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It had been two weeks, and Jet hadn't heard from Faye since she had run out. What the hell had she been thinking? Spike had merely suffered from exhaustion, his day of physical therapy and then his mad adrenaline spurned run to the door had caused him to pass out from overexertion. So why had Faye run? She could have at least stayed to find out if Spike was okay, but no, she had just disappeared like she didn't care if his collapse had been his death. It hadn't been that bad, not even close, but still. What the hell was wrong with that woman?
Spike had not shown any mental improvements since then, but physically he was doing fine and that was enough for the doctor to hand Jet the release papers. Spike could walk, so he was just taking up space in the hospital is what the doc had said. There was nothing else to do for him. The rest was up to him alone.
Jet walked to his room to tell him the news, only to see Ed already dragging him out into the hall, his shirt barely on him. Jet chuckled a bit. It was so like Ed to be overexcited. Not that he wasn't excited to get Spike out of this damn hospital, and he wasn't exactly mad that there wouldn't be any more crazy hospital bills to pay, but he wasn't sure what to do with the man now that he could get him out. Was it safe to bring him aboard the Bebop, or would that be too much for him? Faye had said something about . . . wait. He was going to listen to Faye? Hell no. The Bebop it would have to be.
"Got a cigarette Jet?" Jet grunted and glared at Spike for a short moment before handing him a smoke. He wasn't sure what was more expensive, the hospital bills or supporting the green haired man's habit. He'd have to get him back to work soon, or Ed would be serving Shitake again . . . maybe that would be good for Spike . . . Jet smirked and shook his head. What the hell was he thinking?! He sighed.
"I'm gonna make you pay for those someday . . . Gonna hafta make you work." Spike stared at Jet and shrugged.
"Don't know how, Jet. What exactly do I do?" Jet grimaced. What was he supposed to tell him? 'You shoot people, kill some, and make almost nothing for risking your life . . .' Jet shrugged in an attempt to cover up his discomfort.
"Er . . . just clean the ship and stuff." Spike looked at the bald man quizzically. That didn't seem right . . .
"You're shitting me. I'm not cleaning your damn ship, what the hell do I look like? What did I do before to bring in the money?" Jet rounded on him, his eyes flaring.
"You nearly got yourself killed is what you did, and that just put us in the fucking hole! Besides, I'm not supposed to tell you anything, and taking you back aboard the ship is bad enough. I'll probably be killed for bringing you back to the Bebop if Faye . . ." At the mention of the purple haired woman Spike's eyes flickered with . . . something. Pain? Betrayal? Abandonment? Some kind of weird mixture of emotions that Jet couldn't quite put his finger on. The whole situation since Faye had left had been weird. Spike seemed . . . a little overemotional. Not aloud, of course, but internally. Jet had been his partner long enough to be able to read Spike pretty well, and there was something definitely . . . off. He had tried to avoid mentioning the woman, but when he was angry, well, that was another story. Jet sighed.
"You know what, Spike, when we get there, just sit on the damn couch and do nothing but drink beers and smoke all day. That should be a better plan for you. When you get your memory back though, you're getting back to work." Spike smiled mischievously.
"With that kinda life, maybe I won't want to tell you . . . " Jet just shook his head, not bothering to let Spike's statement bother him. What was starting to bother him more and more with each passing day was that Spike seemed to be the same old Spike, except for his venerability issues. His personality, his mannerisms, everything was the same but his memory and his odd way of zoning out like he was trying to find something, creasing his brow, flicking his cigarette roughly, and cursing under his breath as the memory and his cigarette slipped through his fingers. Jet pulled a cigarette out and lit it as he led Spike out the hospital door. It was going to be a long night.
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Faye sighed as she sat down on the familiar yellow couch of the Bebop. Jet had been foolish enough to leave the access code to the ship unchanged, and she had gotten inside easily . . . almost too easily. She lit a cigarette and popped open the top of a beer she had stolen from the fridge, relaxing on the couch, trying to calm her aggravated mind. She had read the damn bounty pay out incorrectly. It turned out that she didn't get a million for it, only a hundred thousand. That hundred thousand had been barely enough for her to repair damages on her Red Tail and get enough gas to make it back to Mars. Well, the orbit of Mars, anyway.
She had seemed to have gotten herself back on track. In fact, the moment she had stepped foot on Ganymede, things were as they were when she thought that Spike was dead. Sure, she thought about him once in a while, but the majority of the time she had immersed herself in her bounty, a little gambling, and a lot of drinking, all of which helped her to temporarily forget. She didn't seem so on edge all of the time and that was a great load off of her shoulders. Now if she could just figure out a way to get down to Mars, give a proper good bye to Spike, and get out of the way of everyone she had ever become attached to, she'd be fine, and she'd be able to be the same old Faye again.
The same old Faye. Faye bit her lip. Now that she actually thought about it, she didn't know who the old Faye was. Was it the cheerful girl who taped a message to her older self in the future, was it the lost, bitter woman who couldn't remember her past, or was it the sentimental feminine person she had been lately? She sighed and put her beer on the table, taking a long drag of her cigarette and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. She cursed. What the hell was she doing? Why the hell was she stressing over this? She was herself. Why couldn't she just follow her heart and do things without overanalyzing them? Why couldn't she just live day for day for her, and not worry about what anyone thought of her? Wasn't that the old Faye? Why did she care about tying up the loose strings with her little dysfunctional 'family?' Why couldn't she have just stayed on Ganymede and found another bounty? Why was she asking herself so many damn rhetorical questions?
She picked up her beer and took a long swig of it, only to spit it out in disbelief at a figure in the doorway. Spike. Faye blinked away her shocked expression as Jet came marching into the room, looking like he was going to shove his fist in her gut and pull out her intestines.
"What the hell are you doing here?! You think you can just break into my ship, steal my beer, and sit on my couch anytime you feel like it!?" Jet was right up in front of Faye's face practically spitting. Spike walked over calmly and swung his hand in-between the space separating the two.
"Jet, shut up." Jet rounded on Spike.
"What the hell did you just say?!" Spike's eyes narrowed, and Jet stepped back. What the fuck was that look for?!
"I said shut up! My fucking head's been killing me since we got in the hangar." He yelled and then softened his voice. "Just . . . yell at her when I'm not in the room." He turned to Faye and pointed at her beer.
"Where'd you get that?" Faye stared at him unemotionally and took a sip from her can.
"Find it yourself." Jet glared at her and Spike looked at her in confusion. She blinked innocently, then stared Spike in the eye. "I'm fucking serious Spike, go find it yourself . . . christ. It's not that hard." She sighed. "I don't know why you want it. Smart of you to want a beer when you've got a headache, Spike, really smart." She said sarcastically, and Spike growled and started walking around the chamber.
It was so familiar, yet so strange and unknown. The whole area riddled his head with questions. The table was familiar, the couch, all of the pipes and rails and stairs screamed out at him like they wanted to tell him something. However, they were inanimate objects, and they couldn't talk. The only two in the room that could weren't saying anything, so Spike just sighed.
He jumped when he realized the area he was in. Somehow he had subconsciously maneuvered himself to the cooler, somehow he had remembered where the beer was. Faye smiled like the smart ass that she was and Jet just stared at the woman in disbelief. Jet threw his hands in the air.
"All right, Faye, fine. You can stay." Faye raised her eyebrow and smirked.
"I was going to anyway. Can't exactly go anywhere with my ship out of gas, I was gonna ask you for some but . . ." Okay, so it was a downright lie. She wasn't planning on staying when she had come here, but she might as well. Carpe Diem and all that. Besides, if she left, Jet would baby Spike and Spike would never get his memory back. She couldn't allow that to happen . . . well, no that was another lie. She could . . . but she wouldn't. If she got sentimental along the way, fine. If she got lost, fine, and if she had little spouts of happiness, well, that was fine too. She was sick of following her brain. It was well past time she let her emotions have their chance.
Faye was startled out of her thoughts by the pop of Spike's beer can and his plopping on the couch beside her. He didn't look at her, but she knew he was upset. She sighed. Jet seemed to notice some sort of tension and he made a lame excuse about watering his bonsai's, leaving the room. Faye sighed again.
"What are you sighing about?" Faye smirked.
"Oh, hi Spike, how ya doing. Now that you're done answering your important beer question you can take the time to talk to me. God, I'm so flattered." Spike turned to her and glared.
"I don't owe you any hello when you don't even bother a good-bye. I fucking trusted you to help me with my little problem and you ran away. So you know what Faye, let me repeat your little sentiment to you. Screw you, Faye. Don't even bother." With that, Spike got up and made his way to leave. Faye's heart seemed to skip a beat in dread and guilt. She ran up behind him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, tears spilling down her cheeks. Spike stiffened in shock, his eyes widening in his surprise.
"I'm sorry Spike . . . I'm so sorry . . ." she started, resting her forehead on his back. "If you want . . . If you want to know . . . this whole situation is killing me. I've told you a few times that I've been through what you're going through before . . . but what's really bugging me . . . what hurts the most is that I know the answers to a lot of your questions, and I know how much you want them answered, but I . . . I just can't tell you so many things. I want to. I really do. All I can do is help guide you to finding the answers for yourself. I . . . " Faye shook and gripped the fabric on Spike's back. "I want to help you . . . I want to help you through this . . . but I end up this sobbing mess every time I try . . . every time I try and every time I have to hold my tongue when all I want to do is answer all your questions and put your mind to rest. God . . . I know . . . I know what you're going through . . . I want to take all the uncertainty away . . . but I . . . I . . . " Spike clenched his fists and spun around. Faye gasped as she saw tears running down his face and gasped again as he took her into his arms and held her close, whispering into her ear.
"Help me. Please, Faye . . . get me back . . . I want to know who I
am . . ."
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*"Come here, no I won't say please, one more look at the ghost before
I'm gonna make it leave
Come here, I got the pieces here, time to gather up the splinters,
build a casket for my tears
I'm haunted by the lives that I have loved
I'm haunted by the hallways in this tiny room, the echo there of
me and you, the voices that are carrying this tune
Ba da pa pa, Ba da pa pa"*
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To Be Continued . . .
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Yay. Here ends part 5, part 6 should be up soon. ^_^ Luv ya minna, please leave a review on your way out, I appreciate it.
This fic copy write March/April 2002 Sailor Red / Elaine Mahlecke