Here I go again. I'm trying to crank this out as fast as possible. Happy
you're all enjoying. I know Faye seems too timid-but give her a break!
She was just beaten and raped, for crying out loud. That's bound to change
anyone's perspective at first.
So here it is!
I repeat: Cowboy Bebop is not in any way mine.
Chapter 4: Revenge and Romance Just Don't Mix
Faye groaned, opening her eyes to look at the glowing clock. Three a.m. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. This insomnia was killing her. With an exasperated sigh she sat up. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since she had awakened in the hospital almost two months ago. Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood and stretched. The numerous cuts and bruises were healing nicely. Only a few light yellow spots remained around her eyes, and most of her bandages were gone. She would have one or two faint scars from the deeper cuts, but they could be removed if she decided to later on. She was in pretty good condition, at least physically. Her emotional scars couldn't be erased so easily.
She quietly stepped into the hall, pausing to see if anyone was around, then walked to bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror examining the woman reflected there. Faye hardly recognized herself these days. She hardly ever brushed her hair, never wore make-up. The same oversized sweatpants and T-shirt that Spike had lent her had adorned her frame since she had left the hospital. She had a closet full of beautiful, sexy clothes, but she couldn't bring herself to wear any of them. They made her feel vulnerable, naked, and even a little trashy, like she was some kind of whore. The only thing that hadn't noticeably changed was how often she showered; but she no longer walked around in a towel. She always went in fully clothed and came out the same way.
She frowned at herself and raised her hand to touch the mirror. I'm not even a shadow of who I used to be, she thought sadly. I miss me, but what can I do? She let her hand fall limply to her side. She couldn't answer her own question, and knew no one else could answer it for her.
She left the bathroom and walked to the observation deck, but not before stopping in the galley first to grab a bottle of gin she had left on the counter. With the open bottle in one hand and a burning cigarette clenched between the fingers of the other, she stood staring out the window at the endless stars.
***
Ugh, ten in the morning is to damn early to get up, Spike thought as he lay in bed. He reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for his cigarettes and matches. Satisfied that his fingers had found what they were searching for, he lit one and inhaled his first smoke of the day while still lying down. Still groggy, he pulled his pants on and walked out to couch, the cigarette dangling from his lower lip.
"Damn it all! Not again!" he muttered, eyeing Faye curled up on the old couch, a half empty bottle lying on the floor next to her. When was she going to stop doing that night after night? He stood over her and just stared. He shrugged and bent down, slipping his arms under her neck and legs. If she was going to insist on falling asleep on the couch, she was just going to have to deal with him moving her.
Faye grunted as her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him, confused, and then annoyed. "What the hell are you doing? Put me down, Spike. I was finally sleeping!" She was pissed and he knew it.
He grinned a little at her grumpiness. It was the first of the old Faye peeping through he had seen since they had brought her home. Every other morning that he carried her to her room, she had said nothing. Now she was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot she knew. Good, he thought, there's hope for her yet.
"I mean it, you jerk! PUT ME DOWN!" She was yelling now.
"Have it your way, princess," Spike said, unceremoniously dumping Faye back on the couch and plopping next to her. He turned the TV on and lit a second cigarette off the first.
Faye glared at him. She was obviously hung-over and in a nasty mood. She snorted and stole the cigarette right out of his mouth. Spike sighed and lit another.
"You know you should really stop drinking so much for dinner," he said casually, wondering just how foul her mood was.
"Jerk," Faye mumbled, glowering. If a look could kill, Spike would have been dead in half a second.
"Your night-time drinking has really cut into your beauty sleep, Faye. You look like shit."
Instead of yelling at him, Faye just looked at him. The anger was gone from her eyes, replaced by the hurt look he had gotten only too familiar with in the past three weeks. He suddenly felt guilty. She looked like she was going to cry. Silently, she stood up and walked toward her room. A moment later he heard the sound of a door closing.
"I am such an asshole," Spike swore at himself, jumping up to follow her.
"Faye," he said as he knocked on her door.
No answer.
"Come on, Faye. Open up. I want to talk to you," he paused, waiting for a reply. He was rewarded with more silence. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. You look fine!"
"Please.just go away," begged a muffled voice.
"I'm coming in," Spike said, pushing the door open.
Faye was curled up on the bed, her knees hugging her chest. Her head was buried under her arms. Her tiny body was shaking with her sobs. He sat down next to her and patted her back.
"I really am sorry. I was just playing with you. I guess I just thought things could finally be the way they used to. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss fighting with you."
She turned her head to look at him. He gave her a sad, crooked smile and shrugged helplessly. She sat up, staring at him through the uncombed hair hanging in her face. Without thinking he swept her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. He really hadn't meant what he said. Even with the dark circles under eyes, he still found her quite pretty.
"You know you're still beautiful, don't you?" Spike whispered, blushing slightly.
He leaned closer, their noses almost touching. Faye's breath was coming in short gasps; their eyes still locked together. 'What am I doing?' Spike wondered, unable to move away. 'It's just pity,' he lied to himself. He was drowning in a green gaze that was timid, yet somehow passionate.
'I really want to kiss her,' he thought , licking his lips. 'Whoa, where did that come from?'
The shock was enough to send him to his feet. Where had that come from? He didn't notice the relief that washed across her face.
"So.um.do you remember anything that might help us catch the bastard?" Spike asked changing the subject. He and Jet had no leads as to the identity of Faye's attacker. The DNA had come up with no ID, like it belonged to a phantom. Ed hadn't been able to find a match, either.
"No.," Faye said.
Spike looked at her. She had kept telling them she knew nothing, not even what he looked like, but somehow he knew she was hiding something.
"Faye," he began, leaning over her, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips. "I know you're hiding something."
She looked up at him startled. "I'm not.I mean.why would I-"
"You tell me why you're lying to us. Don't you want him to be punished for what he did to you?"
"Yes."
"Then why won't you tell me what you know? Why won't you help us?" Spike was almost shouting.
"Because I can't! I just can't! He'll kill you! That's why he did it, Spike. To get to you!" She was yelling, tears streaming down her face.
Spike was floored by the gravity of her words. She was hurt because of him, and now she was protecting him. His knees gave out, and he sank in front of her, his arms wrapping around her middle.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with loathing. "Tell me, Faye. I want to know who."
"No, Spike, please don't ask-"
"Tell me, Faye. Tell me now," he demanded. His voice was so full of hate it scared her.
His eyes burned into her as he searched her face. Her eyes grew wide as held her gaze until she turned away, the answer on her lips.
"Vicious," she said, ashamed of her own weakness.
Spike looked at her, but he didn't really see her. His mind was elsewhere.
'Vicious, you fucking bastard! This is the last time you hurt someone because of me!'
He stood up and left her room, slamming the door behind him.
Faye sat on her bed staring at the door he had just exited through.
"Oh, God, what have I done?"
Here ends chapter 3. Sorry it's so short.
So here it is!
I repeat: Cowboy Bebop is not in any way mine.
Chapter 4: Revenge and Romance Just Don't Mix
Faye groaned, opening her eyes to look at the glowing clock. Three a.m. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. This insomnia was killing her. With an exasperated sigh she sat up. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since she had awakened in the hospital almost two months ago. Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood and stretched. The numerous cuts and bruises were healing nicely. Only a few light yellow spots remained around her eyes, and most of her bandages were gone. She would have one or two faint scars from the deeper cuts, but they could be removed if she decided to later on. She was in pretty good condition, at least physically. Her emotional scars couldn't be erased so easily.
She quietly stepped into the hall, pausing to see if anyone was around, then walked to bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror examining the woman reflected there. Faye hardly recognized herself these days. She hardly ever brushed her hair, never wore make-up. The same oversized sweatpants and T-shirt that Spike had lent her had adorned her frame since she had left the hospital. She had a closet full of beautiful, sexy clothes, but she couldn't bring herself to wear any of them. They made her feel vulnerable, naked, and even a little trashy, like she was some kind of whore. The only thing that hadn't noticeably changed was how often she showered; but she no longer walked around in a towel. She always went in fully clothed and came out the same way.
She frowned at herself and raised her hand to touch the mirror. I'm not even a shadow of who I used to be, she thought sadly. I miss me, but what can I do? She let her hand fall limply to her side. She couldn't answer her own question, and knew no one else could answer it for her.
She left the bathroom and walked to the observation deck, but not before stopping in the galley first to grab a bottle of gin she had left on the counter. With the open bottle in one hand and a burning cigarette clenched between the fingers of the other, she stood staring out the window at the endless stars.
***
Ugh, ten in the morning is to damn early to get up, Spike thought as he lay in bed. He reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for his cigarettes and matches. Satisfied that his fingers had found what they were searching for, he lit one and inhaled his first smoke of the day while still lying down. Still groggy, he pulled his pants on and walked out to couch, the cigarette dangling from his lower lip.
"Damn it all! Not again!" he muttered, eyeing Faye curled up on the old couch, a half empty bottle lying on the floor next to her. When was she going to stop doing that night after night? He stood over her and just stared. He shrugged and bent down, slipping his arms under her neck and legs. If she was going to insist on falling asleep on the couch, she was just going to have to deal with him moving her.
Faye grunted as her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him, confused, and then annoyed. "What the hell are you doing? Put me down, Spike. I was finally sleeping!" She was pissed and he knew it.
He grinned a little at her grumpiness. It was the first of the old Faye peeping through he had seen since they had brought her home. Every other morning that he carried her to her room, she had said nothing. Now she was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot she knew. Good, he thought, there's hope for her yet.
"I mean it, you jerk! PUT ME DOWN!" She was yelling now.
"Have it your way, princess," Spike said, unceremoniously dumping Faye back on the couch and plopping next to her. He turned the TV on and lit a second cigarette off the first.
Faye glared at him. She was obviously hung-over and in a nasty mood. She snorted and stole the cigarette right out of his mouth. Spike sighed and lit another.
"You know you should really stop drinking so much for dinner," he said casually, wondering just how foul her mood was.
"Jerk," Faye mumbled, glowering. If a look could kill, Spike would have been dead in half a second.
"Your night-time drinking has really cut into your beauty sleep, Faye. You look like shit."
Instead of yelling at him, Faye just looked at him. The anger was gone from her eyes, replaced by the hurt look he had gotten only too familiar with in the past three weeks. He suddenly felt guilty. She looked like she was going to cry. Silently, she stood up and walked toward her room. A moment later he heard the sound of a door closing.
"I am such an asshole," Spike swore at himself, jumping up to follow her.
"Faye," he said as he knocked on her door.
No answer.
"Come on, Faye. Open up. I want to talk to you," he paused, waiting for a reply. He was rewarded with more silence. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. You look fine!"
"Please.just go away," begged a muffled voice.
"I'm coming in," Spike said, pushing the door open.
Faye was curled up on the bed, her knees hugging her chest. Her head was buried under her arms. Her tiny body was shaking with her sobs. He sat down next to her and patted her back.
"I really am sorry. I was just playing with you. I guess I just thought things could finally be the way they used to. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss fighting with you."
She turned her head to look at him. He gave her a sad, crooked smile and shrugged helplessly. She sat up, staring at him through the uncombed hair hanging in her face. Without thinking he swept her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. He really hadn't meant what he said. Even with the dark circles under eyes, he still found her quite pretty.
"You know you're still beautiful, don't you?" Spike whispered, blushing slightly.
He leaned closer, their noses almost touching. Faye's breath was coming in short gasps; their eyes still locked together. 'What am I doing?' Spike wondered, unable to move away. 'It's just pity,' he lied to himself. He was drowning in a green gaze that was timid, yet somehow passionate.
'I really want to kiss her,' he thought , licking his lips. 'Whoa, where did that come from?'
The shock was enough to send him to his feet. Where had that come from? He didn't notice the relief that washed across her face.
"So.um.do you remember anything that might help us catch the bastard?" Spike asked changing the subject. He and Jet had no leads as to the identity of Faye's attacker. The DNA had come up with no ID, like it belonged to a phantom. Ed hadn't been able to find a match, either.
"No.," Faye said.
Spike looked at her. She had kept telling them she knew nothing, not even what he looked like, but somehow he knew she was hiding something.
"Faye," he began, leaning over her, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips. "I know you're hiding something."
She looked up at him startled. "I'm not.I mean.why would I-"
"You tell me why you're lying to us. Don't you want him to be punished for what he did to you?"
"Yes."
"Then why won't you tell me what you know? Why won't you help us?" Spike was almost shouting.
"Because I can't! I just can't! He'll kill you! That's why he did it, Spike. To get to you!" She was yelling, tears streaming down her face.
Spike was floored by the gravity of her words. She was hurt because of him, and now she was protecting him. His knees gave out, and he sank in front of her, his arms wrapping around her middle.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with loathing. "Tell me, Faye. I want to know who."
"No, Spike, please don't ask-"
"Tell me, Faye. Tell me now," he demanded. His voice was so full of hate it scared her.
His eyes burned into her as he searched her face. Her eyes grew wide as held her gaze until she turned away, the answer on her lips.
"Vicious," she said, ashamed of her own weakness.
Spike looked at her, but he didn't really see her. His mind was elsewhere.
'Vicious, you fucking bastard! This is the last time you hurt someone because of me!'
He stood up and left her room, slamming the door behind him.
Faye sat on her bed staring at the door he had just exited through.
"Oh, God, what have I done?"
Here ends chapter 3. Sorry it's so short.