Thanks all for joining me yet again in another chapter of crazy angst! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop and no profit is being made from this fanwork.
Note: Chapter title taken from Yoko Kanno's "Flying Teapot."
-- Kites Without Strings -- Part Fourteen: Door To The Secret Paradise
By Gundam Girl
When Spike walked into the hospital the next day, he was only a little surprised to see Julia already there. The doctor had been right; he'd only needed a few weeks for his eye to heal and by now his entire body was functional again as well. Just yesterday he had thought it would have been impossible for him to leave his apartment, but he felt nearly as good as he had before the sting.
None of this was news. What was news was that Julia was waiting at the receptionist's desk, her arms folded, waiting for Spike.
"What are you doing here?" Spike demanded. He immediately winced. "Sorry, that isn't what I mean. Julia…did Vicious…"
"No," she said, her voice shaking slightly with the relief of her answer. "I know it sounds unlikely, but he didn't do anything. He came back once he left your place, and he…kissed me. Only kissed me. And then he just left. But Spike…" Her eyes were almost slate grey with worry. "He knows. I'm sure that he knows."
Spike dipped his hands into the pockets of the trench coat he wore. He said nothing, merely watched her; she was twisting her fingers together, and her eyes were shining so brightly with emotion. "Julia…"
"Spike Speigel." The doctor who had treated him when Mao had brought him in was smiling from the doors that led into a corridor. "If you'll follow me, we'll lose that eye bandage," he said kindly.
Spike went with the doctor, feeling Julia close behind him, and the three of them walked into a small examining room.
The doctor seated Spike on the examining table and brought over a bowl of liquid that looked like cloudy water. "This will help take off the adhesive of the bandage," he explained, beginning to dab at the thick gauze with a towel.
Julia stood against the wall near the door, patiently waiting with her arms still crossed. Spike stared into her eyes with his only working one.
After a few minutes, the doctor gripped a corner of the bandage and pulled it gently from Spike's right eye. The bandage fell off easily, and the doctor gathered it, the bowl, and the towel and set them aside.
"There you are, Mr. Spiegel. It looks like the prosthetic healed nicely. We'll need you up front to fill out a few leases, but I'll give you a minute while I go converse with another patient. Excuse me."
When the doctor had gone, Julia pushed away from the wall and approached him. "Do you want to see?" she asked under her breath. She thought she would need a few minutes to adjust to how differently he looked.
Spike nodded and Julia took a hand mirror from a nearby cabinet and held it level with his face.
He didn't look all that different, Spike thought. But of course Julia would notice. He definitely had. With his left eye, he examined the right one. "They did an okay job," he murmured, his usual mirth absent in his voice.
"Your eyes are different colors," breathed Julia. She seemed captivated, as though trying to find every possible change between them.
Spike smiled softly. "My left eye sees the past," he told her in a hushed tone.
"And?" Despite her feelings, which were confused and rolled over and under each other in her heart, Julia smiled as well. "What about your right…"
Spike was silent. He took her hand and caressed the back of it with his thumb.
o0o
The Swordfish II shook violently as Spike steered it down onto the sand of a remote place far outside of Tharsus. A large bland structure rose in front of him as he landed, and Spike shut the engine off, climbing out and jumping to the ground, sliding a bit on the edge of the red dune.
From somewhere within the structure a radio was playing. Spike meandered toward the sound, his hands in the pockets of his new suit – a long cut of blue, which he wore over a yellow shirt and black tie. He treated it to himself; this was a special occasion, after all.
Spike let his eyes roam once he was just inside the structure. It was just a big garage really, and here and there were boxes of tools thrown in every which-way. Spare landing wheels dotted the floor beneath three large one-man pilot ships, one of which was a mono-racer similar to Spiegel's.
"Hey!" he called out to the whole space. "Doohan! Where are you?"
There was a loud clatter, an even louder curse, and then an aging man with a well-wrinkled and very displeased face appeared from behind the mono-racer, clutching his elbow. "Who the hell is it?" he demanded.
"It's Spike Speigel," said Spike. "The lousy kid you gave the Swordfish to."
"Oh it is, eh? Well." Doohan stepped up further so he could see Spike in the better light. "I figured I'd see you again sometime. You didn't wreck that piece of art, did ya?"
"Nope. But I need you to check it out for me. I'm…taking a trip." Spike was satisfied when the old man shrugged, not coming close to detecting his bluff.
"The Swordfish II is no traveling vehicle. No space plane is," said Doohan with all the importance of a man with his knowledge. "You'd want a ship."
"I don't have the time or money to look into getting a ship right now," Spike told him. "The Swordfish will get me off of Mars at least. Just tune it up and I'll get out of here."
"The problem will you young folk today is you think everybody has time for you." Doohan sighed, scratching the side of his head with the wrench in his hand.
"Like you're busy."
"I'm always busy!" Doohan insisted. "Just not as much sometimes as other times." He passed a hand over his forehead in defeat. "All right, Spike. I'll take a look at it, but it'll take a couple hours. Hope you're not in a rush."
"I just need your best work. The matter I need the Swordfish for is bigger than anything I've ever done before, Doohan."
Doohan stared into Spike's eyes for a moment, and Spike wondered if he'd noticed the difference between his eyes. "You change your look somehow, kid?"
"No." Spike led Doohan out to the mono-racer. "I'm just a bit more focused than usual."
"People who try leavin' the syndicate usually are."
Spike froze even as Doohan continued his business by opening the hood of the Swordfish II and inspecting the many gears and wires inside. "Doohan," Spike began.
"You're not the first person to try, and if you fail, you won't be the first to do that either. Just don't tell me where you're going."
Spike regarded the aging mechanic with a wary look. A few seconds later, he sighed, unable to help smiling. "I guess you would be able to call my bluff, wouldn't you?"
Doohan paused, his wrench around a screw he was tightening. "Spike, just tell me something. Are you going to get yourself killed?"
"I'm not," said Spike firmly.
"Are you going to get somebody else killed?"
"No," Spike told him, louder this time. "I'm not going to get anyone killed, Doohan. I'm going to get two people some freedom."
A silence passed between the two men for several moments. Finally Doohan resumed his work, but asked, "How are you planning to do it?"
"I was hoping you could help me with that."
"What? Me?" Doohan surged upward so fast, he hit his head on the Swordfish's hood. "Damn it, why the hell do you wanna drag me into all this?"
"I need to buy your other mono-racer. It looks a lot like the Swordfish." Spike glanced at the plane sitting idle in the garage. "Everyone knows that the only way out of the Red Dragons is to die."
"You're not serious—"
"I've got money," Spike stated. "I'll buy the whole thing from you – cash. What do you expect it'll be….fifty-thousand woolongs?"
"Well…yeah," said Doohan. "But Spike, what are you gonna do with it?"
Spike turned back to him, and the artificial sun created a halo-like glow around his emerald hair. "I'm going to die." He grinned.
o0o
"It sure has been raining a lot," Shin commented to his brother. "You think it will effect the operation tomorrow morning?"
"No, I think Vicious will work through rain and blood," replied Lin. "As he always does. And Spike is just as resilient, of course."
Both of them turned as the elevator on the top floor of Mao Yenrai's personal office building dinged. The doors parted to reveal the man in question, his cocky smile in place.
"You're a little underdressed for a meeting with Mr. Yenrai," Lin said as Spike approached them.
"I'm afraid I'm not on his schedule." Spike nodded a greeting to Shin. "Does he have a minute?"
"He's always very busy," Shin said, "but I don't see why he wouldn't want to see you anytime."
"Go on in," Lin added.
Spike began to step forward, then paused. Spinning, he set a hand on each twin's shoulder. "You two…you're really good guys. I hope you know that." He drew away and turned on his heel, disappearing into the syndicate leader's office and leaving both boys befuddled by his compliment.
Inside the office, Mao was filling manila enveloped with files on agents and documents concerning passage into Tharsus – deliveries of drugs to the Red Dragon Clan.
The man looked up from his activity, his eyes shrewd beyond the wrinkles surrounding them. Although Mao was aging bodily every day, Spike had always believed that his remarkable mind only grew in wisdom and thus stayed young and keen.
"Spike," said Mao with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."
"I'm early," Spike replied with a shrug of one shoulder. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion too much. I really needed to come here for a minute."
Mao nodded, his expression still pleasant although there was a slight glint to him that meant he had caught onto something right away. "I see. Your eye – Doctor Pearson did a very good job with it. Has it hindered you much?"
"I'm adjusting." Even saying so, Spike wished very much that he could see Mao with both of his eyes instead of just his left. This man who sat behind a desk was the only father figure he had ever known and he cared for him much more deeply than he had ever let on. To everyone, he had always been just a daredevil boy with good piloting skills. To Mao, he had been a son. "I never said thank you for helping me."
"There's no need. It's Miss Julia you should be thanking. Had she not called you, the results would have been far less favorable than the mere loss of a single eye." Mao stood up, pausing for a second as he rose while his senior legs got used to the change of position. Then he turned away from the desk and stared out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the wall there.
The silence stretched between the two men, though not uncomfortably, until at last came Mao's patient voice: "Why have you come here, Spike?"
Spike moved forward until he was just in front of the desk, his fingertips resting on its surface. "When I thanked you, I meant about everything. My whole life…it all happened because of people like you, and people like Annie…you didn't have to take me in. But you did anyway and made sure I grew up well."
"Spike." Mao came around the desk now and though he had to look up to meet Spike's eye he seemed no less powerful for it. "I did what I was obligated to do. Your father and I were in the same unit of the Red Dragons. We were good friends. When he died, I naturally went to see to your mother."
Spike didn't reply, but his surprise was great. This was more than Mao had ever told him about his parents. It was true that he had never really asked about them, but it was strange at any rate.
"I could see she was ill. Her heart was weak from the dust that lesser technology couldn't prevent from entering the city then. It was obvious that she would not survive giving birth to you. I had it arranged for you to be put into an orphanage, sent to school, and to be trained by the syndicate until you were fifteen years old. If you then wished to be free of the Red Dragon Clan, you would have that wish granted.
"But you did not choose to go, and you joined us the very day you turned fifteen. And you have been with us ever since." Mao joined his hands behind his back. "Have you any inquiries for me?"
Spike's face was grim, but he did have one question. "Why are you telling me all of this now, sir?"
Mao's face relaxed ever further, and his smile widened. "Because the look in your eyes now, even your prosthetic one, is the same look you had when you decided to join the syndicate. I can see that you have made another important decision." He stepped away from Spike and moved to a small safe at the far corner of the room. His back to Spike, he opened the heavy iron door and drew from it a single revolver. Closing the safe, he walked back to his agent and held out the gun. "This was your father's."
Spike took the gift with a numb hand. He was having trouble meeting Mao's eyes.
"I am not giving it to you because I believe it will influence you in any way. I know you are too hard-headed a young man for such a maneuver to work. But it has been nine years since you became a Red Dragon Clan member. Long enough, I believe, for you to have earned the honor of carrying this weapon."
Spike held the gun up to his good eye and stared at the letters engraved into the side. "Jericho," he muttered.
"If anyone is so worthy a marksman to use it, I am confident it is you. The walls of Jericho were brought down," mused Mao, "but I do not believe this one could be if it is in your hand."
Spike lifted his gaze to Mao. "Thank you."
"You are welcome only if you use it well." Mao extended his hand and Spike shook it wordlessly. "Be well." The two words dismissed him in one small wave of pride.
It wasn't until Spike was on the street outside the building that he realized Mao had, in his own subtle way, bade him goodbye.
o0o
It was raining. Julia could hear the thunder roll from inside her apartment. She was looking at a sculpture on her window sill; two fish facing each other at different heights. It was starting to make her think the fish couldn't get to each other. She'd bought the thing on impulse, but now that she was feeling like this she wished she hadn't. She hadn't turned on her lights, and the whole room was cast in a grey glow that made it seem dismal and faded.
She had just received a call from Lin, whom Vicious had asked to mention about the sting that would take place tomorrow morning. "This time," the older of the twins had joked, "Spike is sure to be safe from any harm with Vicious there."
If only Lin could know just how dangerous Vicious's presence was; Spike was more likely to be harmed this time than at the sting that had taken his eye.
Her door wasn't locked. The thought came to her like a sixth sense a split-second before it opened. She froze for a moment as the intruder stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Her heart in her throat, she turned.
Spike stood there, his smile small but full of certainty. He did not greet her but gave her a look that seemed to read her whole mind in a second. And right away, then, he could tell she knew about the operation.
"When this is over," he said, "I'm leaving the syndicate." His smile never wavered, and the lack of fear both impressed and concerned Julia.
The confusion of emotions made her voice steady and clear. "They'll kill you." It was a fact. "You know how they work."
Spike gave a soft, single chuckle, and a gleam came to his eyes that told Julia he was up to something. "Let them say I'm dead." He reached into the pocket of the trench coat he had donned. Julia's eyes followed his hand there, and she recognized the outline of a gun, but Spike brought out a folded slip of paper and not the weapon.
"I'll be waiting at the graveyard. By the graves, not in one of them," he added.
"Spike…" Julia wanted to take the paper, but survival instinct wouldn't let her just yet. "I can't come with you." Every sensible part of her told her this.
But Spike was the insensible part of her and said otherwise. "Yes you can. We'll leave here…and get out of this." His voice was fluid, like the way he fought, but for now he wasn't fighting.
Yet Julia was fighting. "And go where?" she asked desperately. "And do what?"
"Live." He said the word with the most amazing passion, both calm and animated at the same time. "Be free. It'll be like watching a dream."
Those words were what convinced her heart. Her hand lifted of an accord that didn't quite seem her own. Or maybe it simply didn't seem her own because Julia wasn't used to giving in to her heart. Spike slipped the paper into her hand, his fingers brushing hers and sending a flare up her arm, reminding her just how much she loved him.
She met his eyes, and in that instant Spike understood why he loved her: he had never met someone with so much vitality and feeling. He had never met someone that was truly alive before her.
As Spike left after a kiss that made her knees want to buckle, Julia was reminded just how much it hurt to love him even while loving him had brought her the only true peace she'd ever known.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Okay, guys. Revelation time. There is only ONE MORE chapter left to this fic. It's been an amazing run, with the most intelligent reviews I've ever received, but all good things come to an end. Thank you for a wonderful writing journey. The final chapter is already half-written, so look for it to be up as early as Friday.
And please review!