You're Gonna Carry That Weight
By Sailor Red
Cowboy Bebop belongs to Bandai ent. / Sunrise inc.
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Chapter 7
Guns, Death, and Memories
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Spike glared at Faye, his hand unwavering as he clutched his gun and aimed at her. That bitch was trying to take off again. First she had pushed him away when he had asked her for help, and now she was trying to ditch him. He wasn't going to let her go and run off again. Now that he had the strength to stop her, he sure as hell was going to.
"Get out of the ship, Faye!" He yelled and pulled the hammer back on his pistol. "Get out of the fucking ship now, or I'll make you!"
Faye stared at Spike through the window of her Red Tail. What the hell was that man thinking? She was doing this for him! She had done nothing but upset him since she had waltzed back into his life. She gulped and tried to look unemotional, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke towards the roof.
"I'm leaving Spike, get out of the way." Spike narrowed his eyes. God damn her! Why didn't she understand? He . . . well, as much as he hated to admit it, he needed her. He needed her wisecracks, he needed her annoying self righteous personality, and he needed her empathetic words. How the hell was he going to get through this without her?
"No. If you're going to get out of here, you're going to have to run me over." Faye's eyes softened. Death. Spike wanted death. He would rather be dead then have her leave.
Faye's heart dropped to her stomach. She had been so stupid! Spike had been begging for her help back there, and she had not just pushed him away, but now she was trying to run off and leave him. She had wanted to keep from hurting him again.
What a fucking laugh. She was going to hurt him a whole lot more if she ran off and abandoned him when he . . .
Oh God. He needed her.
Faye switched the ignition off and hopped out of the Red Tail.
"Drop your gun, Spike." Spike didn't lower the weapon an inch. She was still too close to that damn ship. She could still take off and leave him with nothing. He had realized in the last few hours that Faye was the one who triggered his memories. He didn't know how she did it, but she did. Every time he had remembered something it had been because Faye was around or he was following some sort of advice that she had given him. So, if she wasn't around, then he might as well be dead. Without Faye around, his life would have no meaning.
"I don't think so, Faye. Get away from your ship." Faye's eyes narrowed and she growled.
"Listen to me, Spike. I could have run your sorry ass over and left you splattered there, but I didn't. I wouldn't do it then, and I'm not going to hop into my ship and do it now. So lower your fucking gun . . ." Faye didn't flinch as she pulled out her own pistol. "Or I'll lower it for you."
They stood in a stalemate for quite a while, neither one of the stubborn two wanting to concede to the other's orders. They both had their reasons not to drop their weapons. Spike was unreasonably afraid that Faye was going to leave, no matter how much he hated the fact that he feared such a thing. Faye was simply trying to get Spike to get rid of his gun. However, it was not fear of getting shot that compelled her to try to convince him to put it away, it was trying to see if he feared being shot.
If Spike lost Faye, he would lose himself.
If Faye didn't get Spike to willingly choose life over death, she might lose him forever.
"Spike, I want to help you, but I can't do anything unless you want to live. I'm going to count to three, and then if you don't lower your gun, I'm going to shoot." Faye said flatly and stared at Spike through unemotional eyes.
Spike felt a chill run up his spine. Was she serious? Would she actually go and do something like that? Did she hate him that much?
"One." If Faye hated him, then why should he bother dropping his gun? Why would she help him if she despised him. Why would she say she would help if she planned to kill him?
Why did he want her to pull the trigger and have her end all of his rhetorical questions?
"Two" Spike saw something flicker in Faye's eyes. Was it fear? Was it determination? It looked to be a little of both. Then, in one fluid motion, Faye did something Spike simply did not expect.
She put her gun to her own head.
"Faye!"
"I'd rather shoot myself then have you dead again. If you don't value your own life, do you at least value mine?" Faye was gambling, and she knew it. But if Spike had cared at all about her, then this would make him drop his gun. If Spike thought that she would hurt herself if he were to die, then maybe, just maybe . . . he would find something to live for. He seemed to be scared. Well, good, let him be scared. He had to be scared of something . . .
He still hadn't dropped his gun, and Faye felt tears sting her eyes.
Well, I guess this is it . . . She pulled back the hammer.
"Thr . . ."
"FAYE! STOP!" Spike had dropped his gun, and was running towards her. He stopped when he saw her smirk and drop her gun to the floor.
"I win." Spike looked at her incredulously.
"You're fucking crazy!" Faye patted Spike nonchalantly on the shoulder, and walked towards the door to the sitting area, exhaling the deep breath she had been holding.
God. She had almost just shot herself.
For Spike.
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Spike followed Faye into the sitting area without even thinking. He didn't understand. He just didn't get her at all. What kind of stupid game was she trying to play? What was she trying to prove?
He watched her as she walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer. She seemed . . . distant. Like she was off in some far away place instead of ten feet in front of him. What had been going on with the two of them lately?
Spike didn't remember much of anything, but he had a gut feeling that this wasn't the way it used to be.
"Faye . . ." Faye glanced at him for a second to let him know that she was listening, then plopped on the couch, lit a cigarette, and opened her beer. When Spike didn't continue, she looked to his direction and blew smoke in it.
"What do you want, Spike?" Faye had a lump in her throat. She felt sick; she felt like she was dying inside. She wanted the old Spike back . . . the new one was killing her.
"Nothing." Spike wasn't in the mood to tell Faye about his recent memory. He wanted to. He wanted to see the way her face lit up when he told her, but he was wary of her trying to run off like she did before when he had told her about remembering something. He watched as Faye looked to the ceiling and sighed.
"Spike, if you don't talk to me, I can't help you." Faye got up quickly from the yellow couch and walked over to him. "Oh, and Spike, just so you know . . .you're not going to remember anything if you want to die." She stared at him in the eyes, swallowing the bile in her throat. "Don't go and walk in the hanger like you're planning to die. Don't go anywhere planning to die, go there to find out if you're really alive." Faye smirked and winked as Spike's eyes widened. She started striding out of the room. "Some weird person said something like that to me before."
Spike clutched his head.
"Where are you going? Why are you going? You told me once that the past didn't matter. You're the one who's tied to their past!"
"FAYE!" Spike yelled out to the purple haired woman, and she stopped in mid stride, spinning around to see Spike fall to his knees, staring in shock at nothing. Oh god . . .
"Look at these eyes. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I've been seeing the past in one eye, and the present in the other. I believed that what I saw was not all of reality . . ."
"Spike! What are you seeing?! Spike!" Faye ran to his side and crouched down beside him.
"Don't tell me things like that! You never told me anything about yourself! Don't tell me stuff like that now!"
"Faye . . ."
"I thought I was watching a dream that I would never awaken from. Before I knew it, the dream was all over."
"Spike, what are you seeing?!"
"My . . . my memory came back . . . but . . . nothing good came out of it . . . there was no place for me to return to . . . this was the only place I could go back to! But now . . . Where are you going?! Why do you have to go?! Are you telling me that you're just going to throw your life away?!"
"Faye . . . you didn't want me . . . to go. You thought I'd die . . ." Faye's jaw dropped in shock. Oh god, he was remembering that?!
"I'm not going there to die, I'm going there to see if I really am alive . . ."
Faye gulped and got back her bearings, gripping Spike's shoulders and shaking them.
"Spike! What happened that day? Right before you came back to the Bebop . . . Think! It's important!" Faye wanted to curse at herself for being so damn masochistic, but Spike needed to remember this now.
Spike's head shot up and he stared at Faye, tears running down his face, his soul feeling like it had been ripped from his body. The memory was there. The complete memory of a certain blonde haired woman smacked into him full force.
"Julia died." Spike stared back towards the floor, shaking uncontrollably. It was too much. There were too many thoughts, too many images coming towards him . . .
He wrapped a shaking hand around his stomach.
Spike could almost feel the wound that Vicious had inflicted on him. He could feel the pain of everything that Vicious had done to him.
And he could remember. He remembered his days in the syndicate. He had been a Red Dragon, a damn good one at that. He had risked his life day in and day out for someone else's sense of justice. He remembered his camaraderie with Vicious; he remembered his love for Julia. He remembered wanting to get away from all of the violence. He had wanted to run away with Julia and live a free life. But Vicious . . . he had stolen Julia away from him and had threatened to kill the both of them if they tried to run. They were going to run anyway, but Julia had backed out at the last moment so that they both could live . . .
Spike shuddered. He remembered everything.
He had teamed up with Jet soon after leaving the syndicate. He remembered going after drug dealers, crazed animal activists, a demonic child, an explosives expert, an annoying western styled cowboy (oh, wait, that was a terrorist . . . oops), a cackling balloon shaped lunatic . . . and . . .
He remembered meeting Ein in a pet shop and saving him from plunging to his death instead of cashing in on a bounty. He remembered meeting Faye, the only person he knew that was as impulsive, if not more impulsive, then he. He recalled his encounter with Ed, the girl who had forced him to let her tag along and brought humorous insanity to the ship.
Spike started shaking uncontrollably and vaguely registered Faye clutching his shoulder, repeating his name over and over again.
Faye. He had met her in a casino and had ended up trying to get a bounty off of her head. She had spouted nonsense at him from day one, and he didn't realize until much later that the reason that the reason she didn't say anything real was that she didn't remember having anything real . . . he recalled again the day that they had gotten the beta tape in the mail and she had watched from the wings . . . not registering the memory from the pictures she was being shown. He recalled again the fateful day on the Bebop where she had tried to stop him from getting himself killed, telling him that she had gotten her memory back, but it didn't matter . . .that the past didn't matter. He had made her cry then, too.
Only two weeks ago, he had stared at an unfamiliar ceiling, only to see that purple haired woman pop up in front of him. He hadn't remembered her. He had looked at her and asked her who the hell she was. He remembered the hurt look on her face, and then the fear that looked like it had wrapped itself around her heart. He remembered her screaming at Jet to get the doctor, because she knew . . . she knew what was going on the instant it was happening. He remembered each and every time she had broken into tears and run out of the room, excuse after lame excuse. She had felt what he was going through. Spike was sure of it. Even worse, her pain must have been much greater than his own. She had known what he had lost.
Faye was crying now, shaking Spike so hard she felt like she was going to pass out from the effort. She was terrified. Why was he trembling like that, why wasn't he responding to her? What the hell was wrong with him?!
"Spike!!" Faye shrieked, choking hoarsely on her sobs. "Spike, answer me!"
Spike blinked and looked at Faye, his eyes clearing from their haze. Faye swallowed hard and stared at him, clutching her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat in her ears.
"F-Faye?" Faye hiccuped and grinned widely. He was okay . . . oh thank god he was okay!
"Oh, God, Spike, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that . . . are you okay?" Spike smiled, a brightness radiating in his eyes that Faye had never seen before.
"Don't you dare apologize." Spike spoke with a softness in his voice that Faye didn't recognize. He smirked, and then gave Faye a quick hug.
Faye gasped, fresh tears falling down her face. She knew.
He had . . .
He . . .
"Spike . . ." Spike sprung back from her and joking relaxed on the couch in an utterly lazy manner, picking up her beer can and lighting a cigarette. He turned to her and gazed at her with dancing eyes, smirking with mischief.
"Memory's back . . ." Faye put her hand to her mouth and almost screamed in joy . . . until she realized something . . . She scowled.
"Hey! Hand's off my beer, Afro-puff!"
"Your beer?"
"Yeah, my beer. That's the last one, hand it over!" Spike grinned.
"Oh, if it's the last one . . ."
Spike downed the remnants of the can, got up, and walked out of the room, whistling. Faye picked the empty can off of the table, and threw it at him.
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To Be Continued . . .
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Hey minna, hope you like. There is definitely more to come. ('bout 3 more chapters, case you were wondering.)
I have to be honest with you guys, I know I've been trying to get up two chaps a week, but my beloved PC just bit the dust, and I'm currently typing on this unbelievably old laptop that hates me. I'll try to go quick though, cuz next chapter is gonna have one of those cliffys that is gonna make ya wanna kill me . . . heh heh. That, and I feel horribly guilty when I don't update when I say I will . . .
Okay, I will see you either Thursday or next Monday w/ Chapter 8. Luv ya minna!
Ja!
*This Fic is copyright March / April 2002 Sailor Red / Elaine Mahlecke