Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or "When Forever Comes Crashing" by Converge
A/N: Don't you just hate writing the beginning to a story, then writing the end, and leaving yourself stuck without a clue as to what should happen in the middle?
Oh, and the last chapter was mistakenly titled as Session 10, but this is the real deal.
Session 10:
When the Bebop Comes Crashing
For the swarms come and reap your day dreams of love and hope
For the fears and blood stained faith are woven in her yearn for war
I don't know what the hell that idiot Spike did, but he certainly dragged us into it with him. In the 5 days we spent in the general vicinity of Mars, his stupid ass brought 4 groups of syndicate assholes looking for us. Finally Jet thought the Bebop had had enough. Now I don't know where the hell we're going. Neither does Jet. And who gives a rat's ass what Spike thinks?
Ed suggested Earth. She never really said why. My guess is she must be homesick again, looking for her dad or something. But, then again, if she wanted to be around her dad so much, why'd she come back? Who knows? And lord knows no one will ask. Against that bullshit rule Spike always babbles about any time anyone asks him anything. Or anytime I ask him anything. Not like anyone else on this fucking ship would ask.
Spike wants to stay and fight. For once, me and Jet are on the same page. To hell with that idea, you bonehead. He shouldn't confuse the rest of us with him – we don't want to die.
So, for now, the once infamous Bebop crew – feared by bounties across the galaxy – has been reduced to nothing more than drifters hiding behind space debris like cowards. All thanks to Spike. Fuck you, Spike.
And the sadder song of broken wings
heard through the battered pavement among this city
Deafening, it betrays me in the sweetest and of the greatest of dreams
As she entered the room, drying her hair, still wet from the shower she had just taken, Faye found a casual looking Spike. Too casual, if you asked her. His fluffy green hair – it was back to its normal color, now – seemed particularly ugly and annoying today. He looked rather peaceful, eyes closed, slow breaths. He might've been sleeping, dreaming some sweet dream to keep his mind at ease during his rest.
As she prepared her best 'I-Hate-You-Spike' voice, Faye hoped she was about to ruin such a dream. "What the hell are you looking so content about?"
Spike remained on his back, lying comfortably on the couch, hands behind his head serving as a pseudo-pillow. With a smile, he spoke. "Ed actually had a good idea."
And, perfectly on cue, Ed waltzed in, tomato in its usual spot atop the young hacker's head. With eyes closed, she managed to maneuver her way around the table, Ein following her the whole way. "Not Edward's idea! Ein's!!" She said so without a pause in her step, and then just continued on her merry way. Up the stairs, then off to whatever it is she does all day.
Faye's hand, which had previously been rubbing her wet hair in a vigorous attempt to dry it, paused. "I think Ed's finally lost it."
With a 'hmph', Spike sat up. "I think that kid lost it long before we met her."
I suppose logically it's a good plan. Spike seems to enjoy it, but I've learned long ago not to trust his judgment in situations involving life and death. That kid has a bad habit of leaning more towards the 'death' side of things.
Faye hasn't let her two cents be known yet. Which means no one's told her yet – she's not the type to keep quiet on matters of… well, on any matters.
It's just too easy. And the fact that Ed claims Ein thought it up doesn't instill much confidence. It must be complete shit if even Ed won't fess up to thinking of it.
But for now, it's the best we've got. With all this flying around and playing hide and seek with those Red Dragon's, the Bebop's running on empty. With the lack of bounties successfully heading our way, we don't have the cash to refuel, and we don't have enough fuel to make it to any place other than Mars.
These moments can't avoid you
Your tired faith cannot erase
Tonight the lonesome sky opens wide
In a place like Mars, there aren't many uninhabited places a large, well-recognized ship like the Bebop can land unnoticed. And with a group like the Red Dragon Syndicate after you, you better make sure no one notices you. So leave it to Jet to find the one place they can go.
Faye watched warily over Jet's shoulder as he maneuvered the ship. She glanced out the window and pulled a face. "Where the hell are you taking us, Jet?"
Jet kept well-trained eyes on their target. The water seemed a bit on the rough side – he couldn't afford to give Faye the satisfaction of eye contact. "To Mars. A bit behind on Bebop news, Faye?"
Faye soon regretted the smack to the back of Jet's chair she shot off in retaliation, as it caused a good deal of "rough sailing" for the Bebop. This time, Jet did tear his attention away from what he was doing, though the eye contact he did make with Faye was far from favorable.
Determined to cover up her folly, Faye pressed on. "I know we're going to Mars, Jet. But what part of Mars is that?" As she questioned, a long, feminine finger, complete with freshly painted nails, pointed out and at the churning pit of water they were headed for.
Jet shrugged off the question. "Damned if I know. But no one else is there, and that's all that matters right now."
Spike was roused from his slumber by Jet's rather graceless landing in the seas surrounding Mars. As he stumbled through the hallways of the rocking ship, he wondered how good they'd all be about not being found. He was fairly sure the sounds of Faye's forceful, and not always dry, heaves could be heard for miles.
He figured someone like Faye - someone who has been flying through space pretty much constantly for the past few years - would be able to hold their lunch on a few waves.
"Spike, just where do you think you're going?"
He didn't have to turn around to know that the voice was Jet's. He could perfectly picture the man - stern look in his eyes, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. Probably had his apron on, too. That's how Jet always stood when he was about to tell Spike that he wouldn't go after him. Spike had lost count as to how many times he's heard something like that from Jet.
He slowly raised his hand to open the door to the hangar. "I know, Jet. If I go, you're not coming after me, right?"
Jet's eyes closed as he raised his chin indignantly. "That's right. And when you come back, I won't waste our hard earned money on fixing your ship."
"Then, I guess I'll keep all the bounty money to myself then." A smug smile spread across Spike's lips. He knew he'd won. A haphazardly thrown hand took to the air, a strange form of a wave. "Later, Jet."
"Bounty?!" Jet's mouth was nearly salivating at the thought. Bounties meant money. Money meant getting the hell off of Mars. "Whoa, Spike! What bounty?"
This time, Spike did turn to face Jet. One side of his lips curled up into a chiding smile. "Anyone who's lived on Mars knows there's always a bounty or two floating around. But you and the rest of the Bebop stay here - I wouldn't want to cramp your style."
I suppose I wasn't really lying when I told Jet about the bounties. There are plenty of bounties on Mars to catch. But that's not what I'm looking for.
What am I looking for? Well, I'm not really sure. But those Syndicate lackies coming after us just proves to me that I need to be looking for something. The Syndicate's changed since the elder's got plugged - they wouldn't give a rat's ass anymore if someone who knew things about them was alive or not. They're not just after me to shut me up. Then what the fuck do they want?
Forgive me,
2 a.m. my city lights burn bright as day.
Catching the flattering silhouettes of the tired and the damned
Spike himself wasn't exactly sure when the Swordfish landed, or when he got out of it. He didn't know where he was going, either. He just knew that he was there again. That part of town.
The little section of Mars where his life was ruined. He couldn't even remember when. Three, maybe four years ago? Maybe even longer. Life on the Bebop, and then life on the run, had been lumped together in Spike's mind. There was no amount of time allotted to it. It was just "after." After he and Julia supposed died. After his falling out with the Syndicate... with Vicious. After everything went wrong.
His eyes glanced from building to building, recalling every haunted memory they held for him. The bright lights of the city streets made it easy to make out every feature of the buildings.
The bar where he first met Julia. The park bench he was sitting on when Vicious first told him who Julia was. The little shop that housed Julia when she was hiding from Vicious and the rest of the Syndicate.
A sad smile appeared on Spike's face. That was the same place that Julia had taken him to in order to recover. He could still remember every moment he spent on that bed, completely wrapped in bandages. She would hum to him while he rested. Well, she was probably just humming to herself to pass the time, but Spike always thought that, in some way, it was for him.
The smile faded into nothingness. That was the same place in which Julia had told him, after he had recovered, to leave. He remembered opening his lips at that moment. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He knew he would leave, but he wanted her to come with him. He was sure she would.
What was once a smile turned into a hardened scowl. That was where Julia had told him she wouldn't go with him.
I am tapped clean of respect
And I'm walking waist deep in ruin.
If this is need then I never wanted you.
Spike's boots hit the pavement hard, not stopping to apologize to the hobo he had splashed. He should pick a better place to sit.
There was a soft crackling under each of Spike steps. A mixture of dead leaves and small pebbles being crushed under their weight - the weight of Spike and the devil on his back. The sound caused Spike's eyes to wander.
So many dead leaves covered the paths. The benches carried a good amount of rust. Mildew covered the tombstones. He wondered if anyone had even been in here since that night. He could probably find his old blood stains if he looked hard enough.
This is a monument to our everything
Before our forever comes crashing.
He looked up at the cracked face of an angel. The statue stood as the center of the cemetery. He wondered what the angel's name was. He never did know much about the folklore of dead religions, but he assumed the important ones had names. This one certainly seemed important enough.
"Spike."
It must've been important. This is where she wanted to meet him. And she always knew about those kind of things. He should've asked her what the angel's name was.
"Spike!"
But he never got the chance to ask her. In fact, he never even got the chance to see the angel. Vicious ruined that opportunity. If he recalled correctly, he was still about ten feet away from their little meeting place when the gunfire started.
"Spike!"
He turned, a thoughtful look on his face, to head out of the cemetery, only to find Shin standing in the same spot he was 4 years ago.
I loved you.
A/N: Yeah, so that took forever. Sorry guys. Lots of things were taking up a lot of my time, but I'm back in school now, so hopefully that won't be happening as much. And I have a fairly decent idea as to what should be happening in the next two or three chapter, so they shouldn't take as long.
To My Reviewers:
Rashaka: Yeah, I know, you compliment me on updating, and then I go a good two months without one. Don't you just love the irony? Well, I'm glad you're enjoying this (and hope you'll still read after the long absence).
The Great Thing: Well, about Faye. Yes, she is in the same boat as Vincent, Vicious and Gren. But the thing is, that part is told from Gren's POV, and Gren doesn't know that about Faye, so to him, it's still just him, Vincent and Vicious.
Kyra1: First off, did you get screwed over with the whole no double names thing? I Couldn't help but notice the 1 at the end of your name now. That happened to me over at FictionPress.Net. It sucks, so if that's the case, I'm still calling you Kyra. Fuck you, other Kyra. Anyway, I'm still worried about Cassandra's chapters because she's awesome. But, this isn't a writing competition, so I suppose I don't care all that much. Although (unless she updated recently), I beat her on updating. And, since I'm just one poor little college boy, a poor little college girl liking it does help. I like writing those inner monologues the best, so I'm glad to see someone likes them. I'd do the whole story like that, but the plot would almost never progress that way.
ESP: Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. It took me a whole to come up with that summary. Too bad that part of the story that makes the summary make sense is still a good few chapters away, it's just kinda pointless for now.
Aniiston: First off, I have no idea what your name means, but it's cool as hell. Next, don't let little old me discourage you. Keep on writing. I'm sure you're writing is great, too (though I haven't had a chance to read any of it). Thanks for the very kind words. And if you liked the tenth chapter the best, then stick around. I had a lot of fun writing that one, so I think I'll be shifting a lot of the upcoming stuff to fit that same mood.
www.shut-up.com: That's a great name. Anyway, thank you, and I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. I'm even more glad (gladder?? gladilyful? over run with gladdness? what the hell was I talking about...?) that it got you to see the movie. It's an awesome film. Number 1 in my collection. And, as cliche as it may be, some of us writers (like me) need to be told to update soon, or we forget.
Linda: You know, I'm really glad that, not only did you like that bit with Ed, but thought it believable. I really wasn't sure whether or not many people would believe that. In fact, I still doubt a lot of people did (seeing how you're the first to comment on it). But, if one person goes for it, I'm happy.
Linda (version 2.0 - I figure if you review twice, you deserve two little personalized comments for your troubles): I tried really hard to get that across. In life, I always believed in playing the devil's advocate. Everyone's point of view has some values to it, and it should be heard. That, combined with the fact that personally I'm still not sure who I agree with, made be write that the way I did. And it's always wonderful to know that someone had a reaction to what I wrote. Don't worry about the whole following thing. I'd rather have a few people giving me solid reviews than a lot of people giving me crap. And yours are definitely solid reviews. On a side note.. weeiiird. My religious Bebop fics are the same. Well, cept this one. That would just be conceited.
anime queen3: Uhh, thanks.
Raven: Don't cry. The old goat's not dead. I'm just a lazy writer. I do plan on finishing, so don't worry about that. I just don't know how soon that'll be. I hope this chapter isn't too much "candy" for you. Wouldn't want to ruin your teeth. And, thank you. Your review jump started me into finishing this chapter.