Like that time at the park. Faye went to one of the huge, green parks which they have all over planet Earth. She wonders why it is not a green planet what with all the trees and stuff. She was sat on some stone steps leading into a gigantic lake. The soft ripples in the water soothed her frayed spirit, replenished her tired soul and calmed her senses.
She went there to get away from it all. To clear her head of what the doctors said and erase what Spike said. Though it happened a long time ago, those words still rung loudly in her mind.
"Us? You mean we went out together?"
She visited him in hospital alone, without the others. This has to be a joke. It just has to be! Faye was determined he would recognise her, given her desperation and persistence. Determination, that, and the stubbornness to accept the truth.
"Yes Spike, us. We...we're lovers. Can't you remember?" She had pleaded, almost paralysed with fear. He noticed her voice rose an octane and looked concerned.
"Are you sure it was me? Because...ah....you..."
"Faye. Faye Va-len-tine. Valentine." Faye said slowly, as if he was incapable of storing that in his brain.
"Right. Faye. I think you might had got the wrong guy, as I honestly can't think back to the last time we were together.
I'm sorry."
No matter how much she blinked, or for how long she stared heavenwards, white hot tears of humiliation slapped her beautiful face. Turning to walk away quickly, Spike caught her upper arm.
"Faye don't cry...please....I hate to see a woman cry..." He sounded lost.
Sorry. He was sorry for giving her the best years of her life, for giving her a reason to stay live, for being the single purpose in her previously meaningless existence, for making her forget her brutal childhood, and for looking out for her when they were on a mission. But that was not what hurt the most, and that was not all. It burned inside hotter than Hades itself.
He was sorry for loving her.
She was prepared to use her dangerously long and pointy nails to personally rip out the pathetic excuse of a heart, to make him suffer like she is. But the sight of him semi-naked, bandages wrapped around his head like they were the only things holding his skull intact, melted her resolve. Some women are weak like this. Ever since she was a little girl, Faye has vowed never to be one of these weak women. Yet here she was, wanting to kill him for killing her inside, wanting and failing. Why did she lose her nerve? How did she lose her nerve? Seconds before she was so sure of herself, as always, and the mere sight of the bastard standing in front of her, is enough to break down her defences into rubble.
Her blood shot green orbs glistened in the harshly bright hospital lights. His brown globes widened in shock. Probably at the sight of her running mascara, Faye thought bitterly. He placed his other hand on her bare shoulder, only to be brushed off straightaway. Still, he persisted, enveloping her in an intimate embrace she feared she would never have the chance to have again. His warm skin tickled hers, her fingers re-tracing their way on his bare back. There, the muscles that peeped out, the arch of his lean torso. The smell of a man, his smell, Spike's smell. Breathing in deeply as if trying to capsulate the smell, Faye felt like she has finally returned home. Her real, home. Faye could feel his heart beating against her, his hands caressing her shoulder blades like they used to.
Then suddenly he pulled away, and they both looked at the new arrival. She shouted his name almost in the same way as Faye does. Tones of care, of concern, and love intertwined within that voice. Faye was not bothered by her before, but as the saying goes, there is always a first for everything. Why? Why god why?
"There you are. You're looking better today." She cooed. Fayed seethed and contemplated digging her nails into her instead.
"Julia."
"Faye." Julia replied with equal venom.
In complete surprise Faye found herself in a bear hug with her adversary. As she embraced her Julia whispered something into her ear.
"Nice catch you've got here, sister."
"Don't call me 'sister'."
Pulling away, Julia continues with her attack under different guises.
"First the strong is taken, and now it looks like the hot is taken too. Isn't there anything left for me?"
"I'm not that kind of person, unlike some people I know." Faye retorted.
While the innuendo fuelled conversation went on, Spike looked from one woman to the other like spectators do at a tennis tournament. He had a vague idea of what they were really saying, but was clueless as to why they put on this charade. As the blond, Julia, carried on tormenting Faye, he got the impression she was jealous of something that Faye has.
"So you say he's lost his memory? Oh dear." Julia dramatised.
Stroking his bicep, Julia's blue eyes rolled over Spike's semi-naked torso, nearly licking her lips like a cat whose got the double cream. Then she turned to Faye, smiling in her usual sly way.
"And it's permanent? How tragic, really." She feigned sympathy.
"I am here y'know ladies." Spike drawled.
Julia was casually unzipping the zip on her blue top, slowly revealing more of her assets in a false pretence of feeling hot, going slowly so Faye would not notice. Only Faye did notice. Spike was tempted to stare and dribble, but when a woman deliberately lowers herself to such levels it raises questions about her reputation. Instead he cast his eyes on Faye, who was on edge. Straightening up, she cleared her throat.
"Anyone for coffee?"
"I'll have one." Spike said.
"Me too." Julia purred, eyes devouring Spike's lean and toned body.
Spike shifted, uncomfortable at receiving such intense interest from a stranger. Unknown to him, Julia does not intend to remain a stranger for long. He made an excuse to help Faye carry the drinks, anything to get away from this 'Julia'. But she latched onto his bare arm, pouting her ruby lips and fluttering her lashes to maximum effect. Spike twisted out of her grasp but she was relentless, clinging to him in one way or other. Faye saw this routine and went ahead to the vending machine. Julia was using the snaring technique, which almost always guarantees her any man she chooses. A distant memory cheered her up somewhat; the bimbo once pulled a gay guy, who was stringing her along anyway.
Standing before the vending machine, Faye surveyed the selection of drinks available; coffee, tea, hot choc, orange juice, and chicken coup. Sighing deeply, she headed for the nearest exit.
In the peaceful gardens, other patients looked so serene, so calm. Gazing at the lush world which surrounds them, some had family with them for company. She only had her faithful shadow for company. Why could she not just disconnect herself from Spike's life? Make a clean break and start a new life afresh? A small voice spoke to her in her head, the devil which made its residence by perching on her shoulder, urging the demons to keep hounding Faye.
Because when you have been that intimate, that close to someone, it can be very hard if not impossible, to walk away. Even more so if you have been together for seven years. You know their every habit, fault, good points and tastes and they know yours.
Then imagine one day, it all changes beyond recognition. The routine that you always do, little cute gestures that baffle others but make you laugh till you cry, the things you love which only he knows. Heartfelt things, priceless things, the stuff which no amount of wulongs can ever buy.
Gone. End of. Finnito. Period.
Where was the angel who should be sitting on Faye' other shoulder? Don't you usually have both on people's shoulders? Obviously God decided she was not worthy of an angel, and took hers from her. Though technically, he was still in the same world as she, except for the lack of memory.
"Faye."
She looked up from the bench she occupied, and saw no one. Figures, now insanity has come knocking on her door. Faye Valentine, the once third member of The Bloods on Mars, is not only losing her mind but is also dying of a broken heart. It would surprise most people she should have one, after all the things she has done.
A man kneels down in front of Faye, who is still trapped in self pity. His long coat sweeps the ground clean of the autumn leaves, his gloved hands rubbing together for warmth. The wind toyed with Faye's violet hair, the coldness giving a rosy hue to her cheeks.
"Faye." The man said again gently.
He studied her curiously, wondering if she had heard him. Placing his hands on her arms, he was about to try again when she did meet his eyes.
"Forget me." Faye whispered.
Before he had time to respond an almighty BANG! rang out; the birds fled from the trees, the other hospital patients screamed and were wheeled inside for safety. As Faye laid into his broad chest, the sounds of fear were getting softer by the minute. Brushing the hair from her beautiful face, he begged her to stay with him. She was not afraid; why would you be afraid of dying, when the one you are in love with has forgotten you, is sorry to have loved you, and you're adversary is moving in the for kill? What do you have left to live for? What is the point?
Back in reality, aboard the Bebop, Faye begins to cough really badly. Wheezing at first, the effort shakes her body like a tornado shakes the foundations of a house. It gets worse, uncontrollably worse, and soon she is coughing up blood. Spike who was rubbing her back holds her tight. He shouts for help and Ein runs in, then runs out again to fetch Jet. When he see's the state of things he closes his eyes.
"WHAT?! IS SHE GOING TO BE ALRIGHT?! WHAT?!"
Spike was clearly scared of what was happening to Faye, but Jet was not even shocked. He merely shook his bald head, rubbing his temples.
"It's happened before Spike. You know what's happening?" Jet said solemnly.
"TELL ME! THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WE CAN DO! THAT I CAN DO!! Come on Faye." Spike begged.
"She's dying of a broken heart. And you're the only one who can save her."
He stared at her fragile form, stunning but fragile. Faye Valentine, the strongest and most intelligent woman Spike has ever met, was reduced to this – and because of him. The guilt that it is all his fault was intensely great. The pressure to take responsibility was building to infinite heights. Wiping the blood from her lips, her body was limp in his arms, limp and lifeless like a rag doll. Yet he had this nagging which was beginning to eat away at him.
"But how? I can't remember my past..."
Do you think Faye should blow out the candle she's holding for him? Or is there really any hope of a re-igniting the flame?