Disclaimer: I still don't own Cowboy Bebop, or any of the characters.
Wish I did, though I wouldn't wish it to be any different, Lord knows.
No money whatsoever involved.
AN: This one gets its genesis from a shot in the closing credits; Vicious and Spike on opposite sides of a fence, facing away from each other. It's more of a sequel to "Sleeping In Her Bed," than a continuation, but it's in the same universe, (Thanks, Razor-chan) and it's easier to keep them together this way. :)
Seeing Red
Red.
I'm seeing red.
It's all I can see now. Red when she called his name, red when he slammed out the door, red when I watched him walk down the street.
It doesn't matter if they did or they didn't. I know he wanted to. What else was he doing at her apartment at that hour? We were off that night, I left him drinking at C'est La Vie. He should have stayed there. Would have been healthier in the long run.
I couldn't look him in the face today. I was setting him up to die, and I couldn't look him in the eye and do it. He would have seen it, and while Spike may be loyal to the Syndicate, his sense of survival is stronger. He'd get around his own execution somehow, and this rage would never go away.
It's hot, this feeling, churning and pounding in me, burning me from the inside. I hate it. I hate the rage and anger and the red. I want it gone, and it will go with him. It has to, or I will be left with a fire in my belly that will never, ever die.
I can hardly stand to look at her now, either. To speak her name, to think it brings torments of the damned. Maybe she knows. I don't care. I just hope she knows it's all for her, because of her. It all begins and ends with her.
I think I've kept it from the people who matter. Mao would stop me if he knew. The Van would lock me away forever. Spike's their Golden Boy, their heir apparent. He's not the king yet, but it's coming. And it's time for a change. Le Roi est mort. Vive le Roi.
And it's good to be the king.
~FIN~
AN: This one gets its genesis from a shot in the closing credits; Vicious and Spike on opposite sides of a fence, facing away from each other. It's more of a sequel to "Sleeping In Her Bed," than a continuation, but it's in the same universe, (Thanks, Razor-chan) and it's easier to keep them together this way. :)
Seeing Red
Red.
I'm seeing red.
It's all I can see now. Red when she called his name, red when he slammed out the door, red when I watched him walk down the street.
It doesn't matter if they did or they didn't. I know he wanted to. What else was he doing at her apartment at that hour? We were off that night, I left him drinking at C'est La Vie. He should have stayed there. Would have been healthier in the long run.
I couldn't look him in the face today. I was setting him up to die, and I couldn't look him in the eye and do it. He would have seen it, and while Spike may be loyal to the Syndicate, his sense of survival is stronger. He'd get around his own execution somehow, and this rage would never go away.
It's hot, this feeling, churning and pounding in me, burning me from the inside. I hate it. I hate the rage and anger and the red. I want it gone, and it will go with him. It has to, or I will be left with a fire in my belly that will never, ever die.
I can hardly stand to look at her now, either. To speak her name, to think it brings torments of the damned. Maybe she knows. I don't care. I just hope she knows it's all for her, because of her. It all begins and ends with her.
I think I've kept it from the people who matter. Mao would stop me if he knew. The Van would lock me away forever. Spike's their Golden Boy, their heir apparent. He's not the king yet, but it's coming. And it's time for a change. Le Roi est mort. Vive le Roi.
And it's good to be the king.
~FIN~