Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop. Duh.

Julia Dream

The song echoed in his mind, closing his eyes and laying his heart to rest. A soft melody, one of longing and repressed sadness. But it made him nostalgic for a time he knew he'd never revisit. Julia's face, with her fair skin and blazing blue eyes hovered above his own. She smiled when he ventured to wake and blew a bit of hair that lay over her eyes.

"Sing for me, please." Spike said quietly. And she hummed that same tune again. He knew he'd live. In that moment, he knew he'd live for her. Or die trying. He tried to keep his eyes open, trained on her visage. He was terrified of losing her, as though she were an anchor to his very soul. He felt he would lose himself if she were to leave his side that night. That was why he'd found himself at her door, in the middle of the night. Bleeding over her new blue coat, staining her hands and her carpet. Her bed. Her bed smelled of her. The soft pillows under his head filled the air with the scent of poppies. That was all he needed; an opiate to take away the pain.

Something was wrong. The melody still pounded in his head. He could hear it plain as day, but one note was off. And how could the pillows smell of Julia? He hadn't seen her in over three years. His heart began to race and sweat broke out over his face. His eyelids were heavy and slowly closed. Julia's face faded into darkness. His hand grasped weakly at her image, but caught nothing.

With a sigh, Spike regained consciousness. He ached from head to toe. His body was immobile due to the numerous bandages. His eyes moved from left to right, and finally, he registered that he was not at Julia's apartment. He was on the Bebop, laying like a mummy on the yellow pleather sofa.

Faye sat on the chair to his left, quietly humming an off-key melody to herself while she played solitaire. Her black hair hung around her face, and she absently blew it off. Noticing Spike, she laid down her deck and sat up, a smile on her face.

"Oh, so you're finally awake." She said. Spike didn't comment, too busy trying to justify to himself why he wanted her to keep singing. "You've been asleep for three days now." She was still talking. Vaguely, Spike recalled what happened. He'd fought with Vicious, and fell through the window of the old church. He sighed to himself. History does indeed repeat itself. And was currently manifesting itself in a preposterous manner.

"You know, you really should be thankful to me for sticking around." Faye continued. Spike was on the verge of saying something he thought he'd regret later. His thoughts had drifted off in a direction they hadn't in over three years. The implied betrayal caught him bitterly, the stinging bite of truth like a kick in the groin. He had to cover himself. Had to feint. Weakly, he gestured for Faye to come closer. She complied and knelt next to him, leaning in to hear. She smelled of poppies in the summer heat.

"You sing off-key." Spike whispered. At once, Faye straightened, first shock then fury registering on her amazingly dynamic features. A growl escaped her throat. She yanked the pillow—her pillow—from beneath Spike's head and hurled it on his chest.

"OWWW!" Spike yelled, as Faye stomped off. It hurt like a bitch, but it felt better than the biting knowledge of love betrayed. A card fluttered amongst feathers to land on his face. He picked it up and turned it over. The ace of spades. A grim card, one of decay and dying trust. But one also of promises.

As if. Spike tossed it to the side and closed his eyes. An opiate to make the pain go away. That was all he needed.

AN: Yeah. My first Cowboy Bebop ficcie. And it's a oneshot. I am really quite fond of oneshots—I like the no commitment thing. So yeah, let me know what you think. Based off the last scenes in "Ballad of Fallen Angels".