Note: I've never seen the end of the last episode. I have NO clue where he gets shot. This one isn't as good as my other one. By your side, but please, please. READ and review. For me. : ) I would really like your opinion. Cowboy Bebop does not belong to me. This song 'Cold, cold heart' belongs to Norah Jones. ENJOY!!!
Cold Heart
I've tried so hard my dear to show you that you're my every dream…
Spike re-entered the Bebop, holding his shoulder from which blood poured from a wound, tainting his clothes. I rushed up to him. "Are you okay?" the words slip from my mouth, before I have a chance to stop them.
He mouths the words, "I'm fine," before falling into unconsciousness.
"Sure you are." I carry-more like drag- Spike's body to the couch, where I lay him bleeding his life slowly away.
I leave, returning shortly after first aid kit in hand. Sitting on the ottoman for the recliner chair, I began to peel away his shirt. The sword wound was horrible, straight through, clean cut. Thank God. I wrapped him firmly and gently in gauze and bandages.
Yet, you're afraid each thing I do is just some evil scheme…
I sat beside him the whole time, watching his eyes flicker, his forehead crease and his limbs jerk. I wondered what he was dreaming about. Probably her…
She's gone now, Spike. Can't you see? I brushed a piece of his green hair away from his eyes. He was dripping in sweat.
Two days of sitting by his bed finally paid off. He opened his eyes, looking up into my emerald green ones. "Faye," he whispered his voice ragged. "What are you doing?"
"I'm saving you." I whisper back, leaning over towards him to hear his soft whisperings.
"Why?" I heard the sadness in his voice. "I have nothing to give. No paybacks. No money."
"Can't a friend help a friend?" I question, shocked by the fact that he thought I was going to make him pay me.
He cringed, drawing in a shaky breath. "Sure, a friend can."
I nodded, "Spike, I… I love you."
He looked at me from the corner of his eye. His lips set in a firm line. And I knew your answer…
A memory from your lonesome past keeps us so far apart…
"I can't, Faye… I can't." he looked back at the ceiling. His cold, harsh words cutting into me just like the ferine, wintry snow.
I nodded again, at lost for words. I stood, walking towards the door. I knew now what I wanted to say. I spun around on my heel, attacking the recovering man with words as harsh as his. "She's dead, Spike! Get over her! Can't you see? She's not coming back this time!" I stopped abruptly. The words were mean, horrible and I regretted them.
Spike's frame was still as an unmovable building. Nothing can move it, but that one bomb that threatens the whole structure.
"I'm sorry…" I apologize. "I didn't mean…"
"Leave, Faye. Just leave." His words emotionless.
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart…
"I'm truly sorry, Spike." I whisper before I turn to go. I needed someone to talk to. "Jet," I call into the hanger.
"What?" I hear his faded voice from behind the ships. Then, I hear the clinking of his metal cane as he comes around hammerhead. "What?" he repeats.
"I just needed to talk." I walked towards him, and then my walk broke into a joke. I threw myself into his arms, crying. I felt him stagger, but catch his self in time. He patted my back. "It's okay, Faye," he comforted, but his words had no solace.
Another love before my time has made your heart sad and blue…
"He's still not over her, Jet." I looked up at him, the light reflecting off my tear-stained cheek. "You had said one that she has a hold on him. You didn't even know the half of it. It goes through death. They still are not apart!" I was practically yelling by now.
"Faye, give him time." Jet whispered. "He's been stabbed, wait till he heals to attack him like this."
And so my heart is paying now for things I didn't do…
I watched Spike recover from his wound from afar. Jet brought him his food and helped him around when need be. At Spike's request of course. I was no longer an ally, but a enemy to be watched and caution against.
It was only a matter of time before he was back on his feet. I was still of no use to him.
It was only two days after that when he decided to talk…
I was lying on my bed staring out the window at the stars. It was a clear night, the stars shone and the waxing moon glowed brightly in its spot. He pushed open my door, walked in and over to my bed. He reached out, hand wrapping around my shirt collar, dragging me to my feet.
"What are you doing?" I choked out.
"You don't know what you are talking about!" he yelled at me.
"What?" I was clueless and scared.
"She's coming back."
I stopped fighting and stared at him. "Spike, are you drunk?"
He laughed. "I had a few cups of vodka."
"You're right, Spike. She'll come back for you in the form of an angel, but until then she just wants you to be happy. Can't you see that? She'd just want you to be happy."
In anger unkind words are said that make the teardrops start…
"Bullshit!" He yelled in my face. "You're full of shit."
"Damnit, Spike. I'm trying to make you feel better."
He began to shake me from where I was held above the air. "She's not dead, Faye."
"You're delirious and you're drunk. Go to bed," I choke out.
He flings me into my wall. "Shut the hell up, Faye. You don't know what I'm going through."
I hear Jet's door open just as mine closes. Teardrops trace lines that should have etched chasm in my face from how many times I've cried. My door open and a single ray of light falls upon my defeated form.
Jet kneels beside me, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" his worried voice gets to me.
"I'M FINE!" I snap.
"Okay." He stands and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
Spike, I don't know how I can still love you…
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart…
The next day, Spike apologized profusely. He said he was drunk, he didn't mean to. I accept his apology, though I don't know why.
But, he still did not talk to me a lot. After that stunt with me telling him Julia was dead, no use really mourning.
There was a time when I believed that you belonged to me…
When she wasn't here or gone, before I met her. I thought she was gone. I thought I had a chance, but I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.
You were still stuck in her grasp. Her dangerous beauty.
I will never compare to her…
But, now I know your heart is shackled to a memory…
"Spike," I sat down next to him. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," I apologized again.
"You shouldn't apologize again." He looked at me, "I've been thinking about what you said. You're right I need to get over her." He whispered.
Faye nodded, trying to suppress her smile. Finally…
The more I learn to care for you the more we drift apart…
"I was wondering, Faye. If you would give me another chance."
I jerked my head towards him, "What?!"
He didn't say anything, just leaned over to where I sat on the couch, placing his lips on mine.
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart…