A/N: So, I'm not dead. And, although I'm sure many of you assumed so, neither is this story. Hopefully I'll get a few of my old readers back. If not, oh well. And, keep an eye out for edits. Before the next chapter is posted, I'll probably edit all the previous ones. It's not necessary to read them all, but there are a few important changes. I'll let you all know the major ones, to save you some time
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, or "Buried Alive" by Billy Idol.
Session 11:
Buried Alive
It's the season of the dark horse
The ocean of night
It's the angel of mercy
Leaving you behind
In this moment
You ache for the cure
You're pleading
Save me
Give me some more
As he looked on, the recognition slowly came to him. Spiky hair, matted to his forehead under the weight of the rain. It was Shin alright. Spike breathed a short sigh of relief as his hand inched away from the holster under his coat. He really wasn't in the mood to fight.
"What is it?" In a moment, Spike, the love-lost wreck, quickly turned back into Spike Spiegel, the ex-bounty hunter turned syndicate hunter. The Spike that Shin knew.
Breathing a sigh of relief of his own, Shin shot a cautious glance around the area as he approached the man. He spoke in a low voice, obviously paranoid about eavesdroppers. "We need to talk. But not here - some place more entertaining."
Entertaining. Code for secure - Red Dragon-free. From the cemetery, it was only a short walk - maybe five minutes - to Cheaters. It was a pretty upscale strip club run by a burly guy named Zan, or as his birth certificate says, Alexander Wanye. A burly guy with big enough balls and enough money to keep the syndicate out of his place.
Lots of things didn't happen on that day a year ago that should have. The Syndicate didn't fall. Honestly, I didn't really care if it did or not - that wasn't why I did what I did. I just expected it to anyway. For as long as I knew them, the Red Dragons were never without a leader. The Van ran the game while I was there. Officially, they still did after I left, too, but Mao was really the one calling the shots. After Vicious.... fixed that, the Van took over again. Albeit, only for a few months, until the coup. I don't really know how they survived after Vicious fell.
I say fell, not died. That's another thing that didn't happen that should have. That's the one that pisses me off. The first guy on the scene made sure to quickly start patching up his injuries - slowing the blood loss. Fortunately, the second man on the scene was Shin. He made sure to let a bullet stop the first man's efforts.
Shin's another mistake - a good one though. Since everyone left alive still thought he was a lowly Red Dragon, the rest of them simply thought of him as a survivor. With some quick patchwork, Shin was on his feet again only a few minutes after I made my way out. That kid's a lot quicker on his feet than you'd think - with his gun and with his tongue. I'm not exactly sure what the hell he told them all about Vicious, but it must not have sounded too good. The Red Dragons themselves, after sewing the lucky bastard up well enough to make it through the rest of the night, turned Vicious in to the ISSP. That Shin's got an awfully slick tongue. One of these days, I need to remember to ask him what his story was.
There's no shelter tonight
Escape from the pain
There is nothing
No end to this game
Shin's anxiety was clear as day. Spike couldn't help but notice the sweat gathering on his companion's brow, and consequently ordered a round of shots. Nothing loosens the tongue like some bourbon.
"You boys are looking a little troubled." Both Spike and Shin were far too preoccupied with their own minds to notice who had served them their drinks. Alexander Wayne, the tall, well-built owner of Cheaters liked to take care of the bar himself on select nights. It wasn't like he needed the tips or anything - that man could probably pay off Faye's hospital bills with the cash in his pocket.
Spike, Shin and Zan had come to a strange sort of bond over the past year. Spike and Shin both grew up in the Syndicate - they were ingrained with the same form of unspoken communication. Zan just picked up things quickly.
So, catching on to what Mr. Wayne was getting at, Shin snapped back into the calm, collected, smart Syndicate man he was supposed to be. "Not really. But, we are feeling a bit crowded."
"We do have a few private rooms," responded Zan, a smile creeping to his lips. "For a price, that is."
Now it was Spikes turn to snap back to his normal persona - the asshole. "Shut up, jackass. You over-charge enough already just for drinks." Despite his serious voice, Spike let the humor show through a slightly curled lip.
You're so wicked
Evil and cruel
It won't save you
Save me
From what I'm gonna do
Blood ran down the side of his face, gathering, and thus dripping from his chin. Quite a frightening image, once it's combined with the man's completely stoic expression. Such serenity, displayed with pristine, pale skin, marred by a long stream of crimson. The silence that hung in the air was finally broken as his latest victim gave up his battle for life - letting his automatic rifle fall unceremoniously to the ground.
A crowd of five, all heavily armed, stared on in a mixture of awe and horror. Though they would've proved to be overkill against any other intruder, the five seriously began doubting their chances of survival. That is, until the man - staring at the five barrels trained on his figure - spoke with a deathly low voice. "All those who lower their weapons will be considered allies."
Five guns fell quickly to the ground.
You're just a number
You're just a victim
A dead man walking
Buried alive
Three sat around an Oak table - well oiled, with ornate carvings up its four legs. They sat on a round, plush, velvet sofa, encircling the round table. The single, round wall was covered in a fabric to match the furniture - though whether it was for the sake of luxury, or to help be sure that the sounds that went on in said room remained there, was still to be determined. "Spill it, Shin."
The man's eyes slowly rose from their previous position - downcast, examining his glass - to make eye contact with Spike. Though the privacy of the room had eased Shin's mind somewhat, he still feared one person hearing what he had to say - the man he was looking at. No telling what Spike's reaction would be.
Oh, cut it out, Shin! Just bite the bullet, his mind urged. His mouth complied.
"Vicious is out. The ISSP has deemed him 'reformed.'"
"Stupid fucking..." Zan's voice trailed off, mumbling the rest of his obscenities under his breath. It was well known that the club owner was not a fan of the police force in the area - but who in their right mind would be?
Shin paid no mind to the other man's words - his eyes remained solely focused on the ex-bounty hunter. He expected an outburst - or at least what Shin had come to learn of Spike's 'outbursts.' From what he had heard of the man, he wasn't exactly the most emotional guy in the universe. This stoic, aloof personality had only grown more extreme in the passing year. So Shin searched for a tell tale eye twitch, muscle tightening, glare, hard swallow - anything!
Instead, Shin got a verbal response that nearly knocked him out of his seat. "I know."
"God damnit! Where's Spike?"
Jet stomped his way down the hall, Spike's communicator clutched tightly in his hand. The bounty hunter, during his previous stay on the Bebop, had never left without it, save for during his encounters with Vicious. Jet had assumed that if that was here, Spike would be too.
Spike hadn't been in his room when Jet went to get him. He wasn't in the exercise room either. Heavy steps brought him into the main room of the Bebop. No Spike. In all honesty, he didn't expect to find the bounty hunter there. After all, that was where Jet had started from. "Damnit!"
Ed stared, mouth agape, at Jet for a moment before speaking. "Spike-person not going after Edward's bounty?"
"No, Ed!" Jet's hand took to the air, a very violent sign of exasperation. "And he's not stayin' on this ship anymore if he doesn't get his ass back here soon!"
Faye opened one eye and glanced tiredly at Jet from her position on the couch. "Told you he was a bad seed."
Jet quickly turned his angry eyes to Faye. "And you! You slept all day, you bet your ass you're not sleeping all night, too! Go after that damn bounty!"
"Me?" Faye shot up into a sitting position, her fatigue forgotten in her outrage. She spoke with anger, but her face was pleading. She needed to sleep! "But that's Spike's job! You of all people should know we have a system, here! Ed finds the bounties. Spike gets the bounties. You fix everything. I save Spike's ass."
"And steal all our money."
"That's beside the point!"
Jet folded his arms and began to walk away, back to the serenity of his bonsai trees. "Just do it, Faye," he called over his shoulder as he walked.
Hold out for a better hand
Wait for better days
You can feel it coming
"Come again!?"
"I said I know." Spike greeted the shocked voice and equally shocked faces with a flat, mater-of-fact response. "He already paid me a visit."
"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?" Shin's eyes traveled through a range of emotions - shock, anger, fear, confusion, disbelief. Spike merely stayed calm.
"A few days back - he sent some hooker up to distract me while him and some lackeys he managed to muster up ambushed me. Didn't do so well - must've gotten rusty in the big house." A smug smirk graced Spike's face, finally showing a bit of interest in the topic he was speaking of.
"But, Spike." Shin had since stood up, his face finally deciding on confusion. He placed a hand on Spike's shoulder - hopefully it would hold the man down, as he was sure Spike would give an extraordinary reaction to this bit of news. "Vicious was only released a few hours ago."
The fury of my rage
My vengeance
Will rain down on you
There's no mercy
Have mercy
In what I'm gonna do