Author's Notes: This chapter is mainly a flashback chapter focused on Spike waking up in the hospital. I will try to submit one new chapter for all my stories each month. This story will be fairly long. I'm aiming for about twenty chapters. Thank you again for your reviews and encouragement.

Spike was busy stomping on the butt of his remaining cigarette as the message of the recent e-mail swirled around in this mind. Julia, that name brought up memories. She' been his for a time, and he'd loved her. She had left him and told him that he was a dreamer. Before he'd left for that battle with Vicious, he'd left to find her. She'd been shot dead. That had been Spike's impression.

As he lay there dying he'd thought of his departure from the Bebop. For the first time he'd seen the pain in Faye's eyes. She'd shot her gun to stop him because she didn't want to think she might lose him. She might lose the lunkhead. Jet was also sad and upset although he tried his best to hide his feelings. Jet and Spike were friends, and often joked around with each other. Spike might not handle matters delicately, but he was still loved and still considered a valuable member to the Bebop crew. Spike had felt the blood pool around him. The pain from the wound was searing through his body. He winced and saw the abandoned gun at his side. It lay there faithfully as Ein the Welsh corgi might.

Spike felt the craving for a smoke set in but closed his eyes. So this was dying, he thought. It wasn't really so bad. He actually felt like he was floating. He closed his eyes and the blackness overtook him. Whirr, whirr, this all flowed lazily into his ears. White, hot lights pierced through his slumber. These lights were perched high above him and leered down at him like a vulture from the treetops. Spike moaned, and closed his eyes tighter to block out the intruding, fierce light. No such luck, it blazed through his eyelids and forced him to open his eyes. It was like walking up a staircase and realizing you'd been in a deep, dark basement. He breathed heavily and felt the sweat on his forehead. He craned his neck to see where he was now. He felt underneath him and realized it was a bed. Spike looked above and saw the lights that had made him wake up. This was a hospital. Spike struggled to find his voice. It felt like his voice had gone into hibernation and refused to come out. He finally forced it to work, and said something in barely more than a croak.

"Where the hell am I?" He demanded as he took in his surroundings. He saw several IV's dripping faithfully in his arm. There was a heart monitor that was whirring, and Spike finally realized how dry his throat was, and how cracked his lips had become. He'd had hydration from the IV drips, but nothing was more soothing that actual water. A nurse softly opened the door to Spike's room and started when she saw him awake and staring at her.

"You're awake! I'll be sure to page the doctor." The nurse smiled cheerfully and paged a doctor. Spike surveyed the woman, who was named Oriko and repeated the question he'd asked himself earlier.

"You're in the hospital. You were brought here in critical condition two months ago. We thought you would be permanently in a comatose state." Oriko replied and began to change the IV bags.

"I've been here for two months?" Spike replied groggily. He felt drugged, and he had been receiving several medications to make him stable.

"Yes, and you flat-lined twice before we were able to revive you." Oriko said in a business tone. Spike groaned and asked for a drink of water.

"I can't give you anything until the doctor says so. I'm sorry Mr." The nurse trailed off and looked at Spike to provide his name.

"Spiegel, Spike," Spike replied briskly. Oriko nodded and finished up with her activities. Spike watched her and felt the sweat on his bosom. He felt very tired and ached all over. He had thought he'd died. Yet, here he was alive and breathing.

"The doctor will be here shortly." The nurse, Oriko, stated and shut the door. Spike was stuck looking at the white board tacked in the corner of his room showing the various nurses and doctors on duty and their duties. The door opened soon after and a doctor in a white coat came in with a clipboard.

"Mr. Spiegel, it's good to see you're awake. We didn't think you'd survive the first forty-eight hours," the doctor pulled up a chair to sit beside his patient. Spike inclined his head toward him.

"How'd I get here?" Spike asked. The doctor looked a bit uncomfortable and shifted.

"We're not sure. I have no idea who found you. I was just called into surgery. You had numerous internal injuries, including a punctured lung. You were the worst case we'd seen in a long time. You didn't have any identification on you so we had no idea who to contact." The doctor said gently.

"Shit, what the hell do I do now?" Spike felt the strong need for a smoke. His whole body felt like it has been squeezed in a vice.

"Well, you will probably be here for a couple months for recovery. We're going to have to monitor you closely to be sure you. You needed blood transfusions. You really are lucky to be alive," The doctor said sternly.

Spike gave him a trademark glare and said dryly, "Thanks a lot doc." The doctor shifted his clipboard and didn't catch the sarcasm.

"You're welcome. Now we should run some tests and check your vitals." And with that, Spike was subjected to a barrage of tests. He got sick of it and managed to cuss quite a few people out and became known as very grumpy. Spike had never been known for his patience. They finally decided he was healthy and reluctantly released him.

"Damn! It's about time I was getting sick of that hellhole!" Spike snorted as he finally walked out the doors of the hospital. He felt the blazing sunlight on his shoulders and realized was actually relived in a way to be alive. "I wonder what everyone on the Bebop was up to," Spike mused as he yearned for a cigarette. Then he managed to bum one off someone in the street. As he smoked, he wondered if he had any right to go back to the Bebop. Ed and Ein were gone, and Jet and Faye thought he'd died. If he came flying through the doors they'd smack him, have heart attacks, or hold a gun to his head. They might even do all three. Hell, he couldn't blame them. He'd been so determined to go find out if he'd lived or not. Spike pursed his lips and decided the first thing to do was to see if he could salvage a ship. He couldn't get anywhere without money, and the Bebop was the only place he had to go. He'd saved a little bit on the ship, so he might be able to retrieve that.

He walked around and as in a sort of daze. For the first time since he lay there dying the face of Faye Valentine popped into his head. The woman he'd called a shrew more than once. Faye, she was the woman who had a weakness for dogs and pony betting, and had a difficult time remembering her past. She'd looked at him with such hurt and disdain as he'd left the ship. She'd shot her gun to make him not leave, and maybe to frighten him. "I'm sorry Faye." Spike apologized to the air and decided the Bebop was his best option. He would try to make amends with everyone. He hoped Faye might find herself able to forgive him. He hadn't admitted it, but he'd always found her beautiful and very cunning. She was smart and had a damn sharp tongue to boot. Spike was able to secure a ride. The Bebop was fairly famous for bounty hunters so it wouldn't be hard to track. As luck would have it, the Bebop had made a pit stop on Mars. Faye had caught a huge bounty and was there for the woolongs. Spike inhaled deeply as he entered the cargo ship that offered to take him to Mars.

"I hope they don't kill me," Spike thought grimly as he felt the scars still tender on his body from his encounter with Vicious.

"Remind me to never own a raven. It's damn creepy," Spike chuckled to himself as he leaned back. The hum of a ship's engine had always been soothing to him. He hummed to himself and braced himself for the encounter to come.

Back to the present time:

Spike leaned against the bridge of the ship and thought of Julia. The woman he'd once loved and who'd called him a dreamer. The woman who'd abandoned him for Vicious who'd been his partner at the syndicate.

"I'm probably throwing myself into hell's mouth doing this, but I need to make sure she's all right so I can get on with my life." Spike mused. He heard footsteps and turned around to see the owner. There stood Faye looking pissed off. Her arms were crossed and she has a frown on her face. Spike didn't think it detracted from her beauty.

"Hi, Faye." Spike said casually and tried to give her his typical bad-ass grin.

"Save it gougo. I want to know why you're bothering to go after her? Is it you still love her?" Faye's eyes flared at the last statement. Spike took a couple steps toward her.

"I don't love her. I love you, but I still need to make sure she doesn't get a bullet in her head. I don't exactly like seeing someone I care about die that way," Spike explained dryly. Faye closed her eyes and opened them to find Spike a couple steps from her.

"All right, so you must play the cowboy. But, when do we start this rescue mission?" Faye questioned and uncrossed her arms looking Spike boldly in the eye.

"Well, I was planning on taking the Hammerhead first thing in the morning. Jet won't care if I borrow it. And what do you mean 'we?'" Spike asked critically.

"Like hell I'm letting you go by yourself. I don't trust that bitch." Faye said smugly and Spike had to laugh a bit.

"Fine, you win. You're crazy you know." Spike reached out and touched her cheek gently. Faye smiled and put her arms around his neck.

"Not crazier than you," Faye retorted back and Spike didn't argue. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Faye ran her hands up and down the small of his back slightly and pulled away. Spike was looking thoughtful.

"What is it?" She questioned detecting his mood.

"Just trying to figure out how to pull this off." Spike answered her honestly.

"Hell if I know. At least you've got me with you," Faye winked.

"Yeah well let's just do our best not to get shot. I have a reputation as a real piss ant at a couple hospitals, and not to mention I'm broke." Spike said sarcastically.

"Yeah well I'm not exactly Snow White myself." Faye retorted. The two looked down the long empty hall. Most everyone was asleep, including Ed who'd fallen asleep on the couch. Her goggles had dropped to the floor and Ein kicked his hind leg in a pleasant dog dream.

"So, how about we make the final plans in the kitchen in the morning?" Spike yawned and stuck a hand in his pocket.

"Sounds like a plan cowboy." Faye gave him a smile. They kissed one more time as they walked to their respective rooms.