"However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and cal it hard names." Henry David Thoreau from Walden
Chapter Nine: Keepin' the Beat
Third Person POV (Jet)
Jet bounded over the scattered bodies, entering the elevator while holding his breath. The stench of decay was overpowering. These people had died instantly. He cringed at the realization while he ascended the levels of the building to Faye's room. The doors opened with the chime of a bell and he stepped out onto the desolate floor.
He leaned against the wall, holding his gun up, ready to shoot at anything that dared to move. Hearing nothing but the whirl of the lights above him, he made his way down the corridor to room 707. On his designated path, he warily admired the plain white walls, litered wtih blood splats. Nurse stations were abandoned, the bodies probably lying contorted on the floor, hidden behind the counters. Trying not to contemplate over it, he came upon her door. Taking a deep breath, he kicked it open, and jumped inside.
What he found, was not at all what he had assumed. Spike was there, as was Faye, and another man he had never laid eyes on before. Spike was holdign his left arm, and Jet could see a blood stain forming through the dark fabric of his blue jacket.Jet wondered if that ever stained.Spike's gun was on the floor, forgotten as it lied there, next to the man, the ex-cop assumed he had been the one to kill the attacker. Faye was sitting there in her bed, shaking from fear or the sudden loss of adrenaline. Her bed covers were messily wrapped around her, and her eyes were fixated on a random spot of the floor. As a mentor, Jet made a move to grasp her attention. He snapped his fingers in her general direction, but she didn't move.He tocalled her, but nothing.
Kneeling, on the floor, he bent down to examine the body. The man was clothed in officer's garmets, but he was no cop. Jet could sniff out a fake quick and this guy was definately a fake. Not knowing what else to do with him, but leave him for the authorities, he stood back up, brushing off his pants.
Still worried about Faye, who had now had two close brushes with death, Jet went to her side, taking her hand in his own. "Faye? Hey, Faye. Speak to me." She said nothing, didn't even look at him, she was still staring at the floor, staring right through him at her spot.
"Let's get her out of here," Spike said, moving between his friend and the shocked girl.
He picked her up in his arms, allowing her to grip the front of his shirt so she could balance herself. Jet followed his lead, going out to the ship with him. It had been hard for him to overlook all the bodies, but Spike moved over them as if they meant nothing at all. He just shifted his weight to aid him in evading a limb and used Faye as a balance of sorts. Jet could only wish he was that graceful in his actions as he bumbled behind.
When they reached the lobby area, Jet remembered why he had come. "How did you get here before me?" he asked, curious over all the untied ends of this new mystery.
"I just knew," Spike answered, carefully loading Faye into the Swordfish. "Meet you back at the Bebop."
"Right," Jet replied as his friend took off. What question had Spike answered? For some reason, Jet thought there was more to it, then beating him to Faye's side.
First Person POV (Spike)I had come back. I had finally figured out what I was meant to do. Bounty hunting isn't the life of kings, but it beats most of the alternatives. I hadn't died when Vicious killed me because my purpose was to watch over them, all of them, especially Faye. She had no one. I knew that now. It was just had to understand why and why me. After all, Jet was a much better mentor, so why?
I carried Faye in to her room, knowing Jet would be here in a couple moments. I placed her down on her bed. She was still under sleep's deep spell. Her covers were all crumpled together at the edge, so I unwrinkled them, wrapping her up in case she got the chills. Then I switched off the light, heading out to inform Jet of all that had occurred.
"Cold."
I glanced over my shoulder. Had she just spoken? I reentered the room, grabbing the spare sheets folded at the base of the bed. I tucked them all around her, making sure to secure her body's warmth underneath them, as I had assumed I had done before. Then I stood up straight and stepped back, to check all angles for a sign of skin. I would have left right then and there, but her hand flopped over on top of mine.
I stared at her blank face. She appeared to still be sleeping. Could her hand movement only be a twitch brought on by a dream-like state? I was going to leave again, but her eyelids fluttered open. I was stuck. Those eyes looked so deep into my soul that I wasn't mobile. I could only stare back. The way she could ensnare me in her orbs reminded me so much of Julia. The pain of her loss hit my heart, causing me to cringe under Faye's gaze.
Wordlessly, she moved over, patting the spare space beside her. I climbed on top of the bed, not hesitating for a second, and lied down aside of her. She let out a relaxed sigh, sounding like a mythical angel, though I knew that innocence to be nothing more than a deception. Still, I couldn't help but gaze down at her pale face, a complete reflection to my own light skin. Almost instantly, she fell asleep, still without speaking to me, just trusting in my care.
I thought of staying with her as she slumbered, simply falling asleep next to her, which for some reason completely appealed to me even more so than my manly instincts. I remembered all the long nights I had held Julia in my arms, how fulfilled I had become when I felt the warmth of her body pressed against mine. Not knowing how Faye would react in such a situation, I kept my mitts to myself.
When she awoke, would she recall her request for me to stay with her, or would she wake and naturally suspect the worst from me? I didn't need to have another fight with her, not so soon after her scare. So, carefully, I rolled off of the bed, and left her room. As I passed from her chamber to mine, Jet saw me, gliding down the hall. He raised an eyebrow as I stopped to look at him, confused, but I waved him off, going to bed. He could eat his precious dinner alone with Ed. I had some serious sleeping to catch up on.
A/N: I am well aware of how short this chapter turned out to be. It's more of a filler than anything else. So I'm sorry for the length. However, I'm having a bit of a dilemma lately. I am in love with art schools, but I am having the hardest time mastering the art of realistic drawing. It bothers me to extreme frustration and though I am taking classes, so far, I have seen very little improvement and it is scaring me. I'm fearing I'll never get into college and the tension I'm feeling has begun to effect my writing. So once again, I apologize for the shortness, but at this time, it's hard to complete a long chapter with good quality. Neveada Sierriana
