The legal shit: Nope. Don't own Cowboy Bebop or any of its amazing characters. As much I'd love to own them, I'm only borrowing them for a little piece of literature. Thanks.
            And thank you so much to all of you lovely people who replied to the first chapter. :D! You filled my creative bubble with joy!

---------------------------The good stuff----------------------------

            He hadn't been to visit her very often, if he'd actually been to visit her at all. He didn't even remember, the past few days were just a blur to him.  All he knew was that Julia was dead, and he should be too. That was supposed to be his happy ending. Well, about as happy as an ending could ever be- especially for Spike. That was the thing about endings- they were never really happy, were they? It was the end. What's so happy about the end of anything? Unless what you were ending was so sad, pathetic and miserable that the end was the happiest part, despite how unhappy it would seem.
            God damn it.
           
            The hatch opened and he could hear Jet's footsteps approaching him. He just sat fixated on the screen in front of him, not knowing what he was watching and not even caring, just trying to avoid Jet's glances. He knew that all the pictures on the television screens were composed of tiny little dots of color. He wondered how many there were, formulating theories and equations of how many tiny little dots could fit into one twenty-four inch screen.
            He knew he didn't care. There could be four or four million, and it would never bring Julia back from the dead, or keep him from feeling Jet's unhappy eyes staring at the back of his head as he tried desperately to focus on those little dots.
            Little dots that he couldn't even see, little dots that were only a microscopic distraction from the world that was moving to slowly for him.
           
            "She hasn't woken up yet," Jet growled, but it was more of a hurt growl than an angry one. Like when you step on a dog's tail, and he's trying to put up with you because you didn't know any better, but he has to growl anyway just to let you know it hurt. As if deep down, he wasn't angry, just hurt, and frustrated. "But thanks for asking. I'm sure she'd appreciate your concern." He shook his head in severe disappointment, Spike knew it must be killing Jet to see him do this to her, but there was nothing else for him do. He heard him sigh from his small greenroom, that sigh that makes you want to feel guilty for being such an asshole. Like he stepped on his tail.
           
            Damn it, he hated dogs.

            He tore his eyes away from the little dots, moving together to form perfect images of some sort of western movie, and buried his head in his hands. How long had he been sitting on this couch? It must have been three days. Faye would probably be waking up soon, and no one would be there to wake up to.

            Serves the wench right.

            He didn't ask for this. He didn't want her to play hero and mess up the one thing he had ever wanted for himself in his whole life.  The end of it, the best end he could think of. He wanted to go out with a bang. He wanted to stop dying every day of his life, and get it over with. He wanted the dream to end, he wanted to wake up. He wanted to finally get some peace and Faye wanted to play savior. All he wanted was a hole in the ground to call home, and what he got was the sickening yellow couch.

            How could she deprive him of his hole? She wouldn't let her. If he had to suffer through this longer than he wanted to, so would she. He got off the couch.

             He leaned against the doorway to Jet's greenroom. "When do you think she'll wake up?"

            He looked up, startled, from pruning the small tree. "They don't know. Could be days, could be months." He frowned. "What's with your sudden interest? She only saved your life."

            "I didn't ask her to." Spike slammed gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, anything in his power to keep from loosing his cool. "She shouldn't have. Why the hell would she do something that selfish?"

            "Selfish?" Jet raised his voice. Now he was definitely angry. "She almost died for you. She got her memory back, Spike. She had a chance this time. She had a chance of really finding herself. She had a chance at being happy." He glared at Spike for a minute before he regained his calm and continued. "She almost gave all of that up to save an ungrateful bastard like you."

            "That's bullshit, Jet. She had no reason to do… what she did." He couldn't bring himself to say it. There was no way that he would admit it. He would never admit to himself that Faye Valentine, the heartless shrew, the ice queen, the most cold hearted woman to ever walk the face of the galaxy, had taken a katana to the stomach for him.

            That would be admitting she had a heart.

            He took out a cigarette and lit it carelessly. He just wasn't going to think about it. He held comfort in his lungs for as long as he could, and then slowly let it out. Well, he decided, I'm done thinking about it. Faye had no heart, and that was the end of the matter.

            "She's right about you." Jet grumbled quietly. "You really are an ignorant bastard."

            Spike inhaled from the cigarette and angrily left the room.