Death. What is death really? Death is only the beginning of another existence, some say. God, I hope Spike is happy somewhere...

Faye Valentine moved restlessly in her bed. The dim light in the room did nothing to help her sleep. There might as well have been a couple of elephants stomping around. She didn't think she would ever be able to fall asleep. Her thoughts kept her wide awake.

It had been two days since her best friend had died. She'd been surprised at her self when she first thought of Spike as her best friend. That stupid, annoying jerk.... with his big goofy feet and poofy hair. And that cocky attitude, that fearlessness, that silly grin.

I mean, I didn't even know I considered him a friend until after his- his death. Everyone I knew used me when I woke up in this now... until him.

He never really wanted anything from me. As gorgeous as I am, I'm a little surprised, she thought, preening despite herself.

Kicking at her sheets, she sighed. Staring at the dark ceiling she knew was above her by the thin shaft of wan yellow coming from the hall, which spread acrossed it like ever-widening road of light, she blinked. Light in the dark...

What's all this thinking getting at anyway? Spike's dead, as much as we miss him, we have to move on. I have to move on.

Her thoughts drifted to the other current member of the Bebop crew, Jet Black. Poor Jet. Spike was his best friend, too. He knew him for a lot longer than I did, what must he be going through?

At first, not really knowing what she was doing she sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying slightly. Heading out her door, she padded softly down the dim corridor. Her feet slapped softly against the cold metal of the floor as she wandered around. She realized she had never even seen Jet's room. Choosing the most logical course, and finally finding a suspiciously bedroom-type door, she peeked  inside. Careful to open the door slowly, to avoid any noise which might disturb the occupant.

The sound of soft breathing confirmed her suspicions. Jet... I wonder, are you dreaming about Spike? About all your times together, or about his death, or about...

A thousand possible dreams he could be dreaming. She was being silly, why did she even come here? To check on him? Or, hoping perhaps he couldn't sleep either? Was she lonely, was that it? She shifted her weight from foot to foot, wondering if perhaps she should just go back to her room.

Her thoughts that had turned inward were pulled back to the here and now by the shifting of a body in bed, made troublesome by a wounded leg. A soft sound, not a moan or a whimper or a sigh, but some small sound of discontentment reached her ears.

Her face transformed into a mask of sympathy for him. Why had this happened? Spike didn't deserve death. Was this all some cosmic asshole's idea of a fun, to see people grieve at needless death. And not only Spike, she realized, but everyone who has ever died must have left behind someone who mourned them.

But then, wasn't that life; everyone died eventually, and so, was Spike's death just meant to happen, just another drop in the bucket? And the cosmic wheel keeps turning. All that happens, happens for a reason, and all that bull? Too many questions with no concrete answers. It was starting to hurt her head, this philosophical crap.

She turned her attention back to Jet. I don't understand a lot of things, this is too hard to deal with. Death. Loneliness. Worry. Too hard to deal with alone. Maybe... they could get through it together. She didn't know Jet as well as she'd like, she decided, and with Spike gone, we're all the other has.

So Jet, it looks like you're stuck with me, we're going to get through this together... whether you know it or not.

Faye didn't know how long she stood there, but finally the numbness in her feet brought her to attention. Making up her mind in an instant, she slipped into Jet's room. She peered around for a minute, until her eyes adjusted to the mostly dark chamber. Glancing around, and finding no chair she edged over to the bed.

For a moment she thought she would yelp aloud, and scare the crap out of Jet as she stubbed her toe on something hard. She slapped a hand over her own mouth.

Finally peeling it away she looked down accusingly at the offending object, which she made out to be a boot. Frowning at it and silently cursing it, she moved around it and its accomplice.

She wondered if, maybe she should wake Jet. She decided to, reasoning that a stranger slipping into his bed would be rather… alarming.

Hesitantly, she reached out and shook his shoulder firmly. "Jet… Jet?" she whispered.

A sleepy groan answered her, and then… "Huh? Wha…?"

"Jet, it's- it's me, Faye. I, well, I can't sleep and I was wondering…"

She stopped, realizing she didn't know what she wanted from him. Her resolutions made not long before were forgotten, as suddenly she was unsure of herself.

Jet sat up. Once he had woken up enough to comprehend what was going on, he asked " Is everything alright, Faye?"

This question brought forth an unexpected reaction in Faye. No, everything was not alright, Spike was dead, she couldn't sleep, and quite frankly, she was lonely, more lonely than ever before. She let out an involuntary sob as depression and woe tried to overcome her. Silent tears began to course down her cheeks. Everything is just so wrong now.

Jet was startled by this uncharacteristic reaction to his question. He realized then, that she must be going through a similar reaction to Spike's death. He gaze fell softly on her, and softer still he drew her towards him, into his powerful arms. She fell against him, the tears coming freely and wept.

Jet rested his cheek on the top of her head, and rocked her softly. He pulled her onto the bed with him and after a while, if she had noticed, Faye would have felt drops of salt tears on her dark hair.

For what seemed an age they lay like that, tears finally subsided and they fell to sleep, unplagued by unpleasant dreams.