It doesn't matter how much you try, you'll never be able to outrun destiny. It will eventually catch up with you and bring your doom. People don't believe fate exists, but they are wrong. It's slowly written as we grow up, and eventually, it becomes larger than us, larger than life.
"BANG!"
Spike fell to the ground, with a strong thud that shook the hall. The Red Dragons around him just looked, without moving, as if even Spike's dead body was emitting an aura of superiority, courage, honor and nobility.
But he wasn't dead. He was still alive. He felt his abdominal organs move around, for no apparent no reason, and a pool of blood formed around him. He closed his eyes, and started breathing very heavily. He knew he had very little time left, and tried to think of good things; but he couldn't. Something always took him back to his saddest, but fondest memories. Spike was a sad man; he had been a sad man all his life, but he had often cloaked himself in cheerfulness and carelessness, as if to make himself forget his true identity; futile attempts that tempt us all.
He remembered Jet's words: "Men only think about their past right before their death, as if they were searching frantically for proof that they were alive". Inadvertently, Spike had started doing that already… And he continued. From the lost and dark caverns of his memory he brought back the images of his forgotten childhood. But his younger years were quite uneventful, so he fast-forwarded to the day he saw Julia for the first time, near the pool table. She was such an angel… Such a great beauty. For the first and last time in his life he had fallen in love with a woman. A normal woman, who just had what it took to completely disarm Spike and reveal his true self.
Why did she have to come in his life? He was living happily, in the syndicate, doing what he always liked to do the most, with his best friend. She ruined everything, from his friendship to his syndicate life, to his liberty, and even his personality. In everyone's life there is an event which alters everything; for soldiers, it's when they get shot for the first time, for authors is when they get published for the first time, for firefighters when one of their friends dies in a fire, for a married couple when their first child is born. For Spike, Julia was that event, or rather the first time she walked in the bar, with her pompous attitude and snobby manners. He was a romantic, a poet, a criminal; she was a practical, independent woman, disillusioned with everything… They made the perfect couple.
They fell in love. Many a night they spent comforting, consoling, helping, giving life to each other. They actually smiled, they really laughed, they completed each others. And when they were separated, they felt parts of themselves were missing. They weren't complete anymore, and both devoted their lives to search the other, subtly and silently.
Spike remembered the last words they had said to one another. She had not come to the graveyard. He had waited there for a whole day, under the torrential day, but she had already ripped the message he had given her. He didn't know Vicious had ordered her to kill him, but he knew there must have been a good enough reason for Julia not to show up. She was not the kind of woman who would forget her promises.
He had left for three long years. But then… Why did she find him? Why did she show up again, to ruin everything? One more time, he was living the careless, senseless life of a bounty hunter, but she had trapped him, to precipitate his end.
But most importantly, she didn't have to fight with him in Annie's store. She could've slipped away quietly from a back door, she could've disappeared in the darkness of life again, but she chose to stay with him, to die with him. Was that proof of innocence, love and loyalty? Or was it just the ultimate act of stupidity? Spike couldn't answer, but at that moment, with another forced heartbeat he felt a deep new emotion rising from the depths of his soul, where he had buried such feelings as sympathy, compassion, and appreciation.
And he realized how foolish he had been to think he was free, or even independent. Once you fall in love, your life doesn't belong to you anymore; you share it with someone else, and sometimes, you even GIVE it to your lover. That's what Julia had done, that's what he was doing. She had thrown away her life in the syndicate; she had chosen to be hunter, just because she loved him. And in the end, she DIED fighting with him; she died because she couldn't leave him, because he was everything she was seeing.
And Spike… He had lived his bounty-hunting years escaping her memory and shadow, but nevertheless, he hadn't had the courage to refuse to see her once more, knowing that it would bring regrettable consequences.
And now… He was dying for revenge… But he was happy; he had killed the criminal responsible for Julia's death. He had killed his former best friend, for his dead lover. Somehow it made sense to him. And he saw butterflies, just like when he was on the brink of death because of Vincent's nano-machines.
Beautiful butterflies… Yellow, nimble, pretty… With a last show of force, he stood up, looking up at the wondrous insects, tried to reach them, and fell. This time, he had truly ascended; he had ascended above the gods and deities.