Spike woke up to the sound of a mechanical savior…bleep…bleep…oh shit…he was alive…again… Why couldn't he ever die? Why couldn't he be right at just that one thing…Death…Why did death always refuse to be his savior? Was he not good enough to deserve death…or was it that death refused to be the reason Spike didn't fulfill his end of the bargain on life. Everything had to come full circle, and Spike's circle had stopped somewhere between the middle and the end. For some inconceivable reason karma just wouldn't let his ass die in peace or in recklessness without completing it. What was there left for him to possibly finish that the gods or the devil or the second in command, Death would rather Spike go back to his miserable life and complete.

Spike breathed heavily and swallowed hard. He pulled himself into sitting position and looked around. There were tubes in his arm, one going into his nose to help him breathe just incase his lung decided to collapse, and he looked overly emaciated. Once more… Spike Spiegel was alive. Living, breathing, functioning. He looked towards his left to see Faye wrapped in a blanket and sleeping soundly on the hospital couch. That could only mean one thing. Faye had come for him when he was perfectly prepared to die. A shot of anger sprouted in Spike as he stared at her. Why couldn't she ever stay out of his business? It was always something with this woman. He was supposed to die, just to meet Julia on the other side. How dare she yet again!

"Woman!" he called his voice was hoarse. "You! Wench!" Faye stirred but didn't really wake up. "God Damn it! FAYE!" Spike had been exerting too much force from his lungs and lapsed into a series of ragged breathing. Faye sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes. Leaning her head against the wall she sighs, at first not acknowledging Spike sitting there. Spike sat back and viewed the female before him. Her hair was cascading down past her chest and her emerald eyes were weary as they stared up towards the ceiling. Spike wasn't a good judge but he could tell he had definitely been out more than a fortnight.

Slowly Faye's eyes trailed over to the body of Spike. It took a few seconds for it to register in Faye's mind that Spike was finally up. A tear streaked down her face. "Oh, thank God, even if I never really believed in Him much." She flicked the tears away in one swift motion and sat forward. Her newly grown violet hair poured over to cover her face. From the shivering movements Spike could tell she was still crying. Why was she crying so much for him? Then he remembered. She cried heavily that night she didn't want him to go fight Vicious. She even threatened to kill him herself.

"Why the hell did you come back for me? I specifically told you that my death was inevitable. Vicious and I were to die together like old times. I-!"

"Vicious is alive! He woke up six hours ago. A year and a day, just like you!" Faye retorted rather broken. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stared at him. Faye was waiting for Spike to retaliate to her sudden announcement. He didn't.

"Well… isn't this rather fairy tale. And yet again here you are sitting at my bed side. Why?"

"I never saved your life Spike, you did. If you died then that would have meant you wanted to go and Death thought it fitting, you ungrateful son of a bitch! But you're not dead you're alive and you shall continue to suffer till your last breath!" Faye stood up and straightened her white strapless top; re bent the fold in her pants legs and slipped on her white boots. She paused a moment before grabbing her jacket as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"How'd you get the scar on your shoulder…Faye..?" Spike whispered. She heard him but did not answer the question.

"I'll call Jet to let him know that you've woken up. I have to go. They'll probably discharge you in a week or so. The Bebop is still open to you if you want to go back." Faye pulled on her jacket and opened the door.

"Go back?" Spike started.

"What?"

"You said 'go back'…"

"Well you don't have to if you don't want to."
"No- you said it in the context of you weren't going to be there." Spike retorted. Faye stopped short and stared at the ground half heartedly.

"I see your brain is still fully working in analysis mode. Very well. No, I'm not going to be there. I can't stand to be there anymore even though I appreciated the refuge. I have to go, work is calling." Faye walked out of the room without so much as a goodbye. The door closed behind her in a dull thud. Spike realized that his anger and pointed cruelty gave Faye incentive to close herself off from him at the moment. He began to wonder how many nights out of this year and a day did she spend sleeping on that couch waiting for his worthless good for noting ass the wake up. If it was anybody who deserved to be angry it was Faye.

The door reopened. Faye had come back. She walked over to him and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good bye. I advise to stretch your legs. By the way, as much as I don't advise it, Vicious wants to see you on the roof. Dear God so help him if he does so much as push you off. Good bye, Mr. Spiegel." She left this time, for good. Her kiss lingering on Spike's forehead and the faint tingle of her hair when it brushed his shoulder.

-243446-

Vicious stretched in his bed. Although he had woken up before that, his weary body hadn't allowed him to move any farther from there to the bathroom and back. He absolutely refused to use that atrocious bed pan. He didn't give a shit how badly he was broken and wanted to piss. Now, he had to go again. As he pulled himself up to drag his lazy limbs off the bed he realized he was not alone. As inhuman as he felt at the moment Vicious was about to tell the figure standing by the window to get the fuck out when he realized it was like an apparition from the past.

"I thought I killed you?" Vicious growled.

"That you did, in more ways than one." The navy blue haired male turned around.

"Then are you telling me I'm that weak and delusional that I'm staring at an apparition." Vicious drawled.

"Oh, come now Vicious, you know better." Grenicia smiled sweetly.

"Then why the fuck, are you still here?" Vicious snapped growing increasingly irritated.

"Oh, I told them I was your only significant other aside for Mr. Spiegel. I was better, I am your lover."

Vicious's steel eyes narrowed till they were barely able to be seen. "I know now you want me to kill…"

Before Gren could answer the door to the room opened and in came a middle aged nurse with a tub of water and soap.

"Ok, Mr… Viktor Damon." She said staring down at his chart. "It's time for your meds and your bath."

"What the fuck?" Vicious stared the nurse down.

"So tell me how did you think you've been kept clean this entire time..?" Gren said rather cynically. He knew better than anyone, Vicious' No Touching policy unless he wanted you to.

"You shut the fuck up?"

"Mr. Damon I don't think you are in any position to talk to anyone in such a manner! It isn't polite-!"

"Don't tell me about polite, lady! I still have no idea what the hell you're still doing here!" Vicious barked.

"You have to-!"

"I know what I have to do and I'll damn sure do it myself. Get the fuck out!" The lady, rather ruffled by Vicious's harsh demeanor, left promptly leaving the medication and the tub behind.

"'Fuck' seems to be your word of the day… That wasn't very nice, considering the fact that she thought you beautiful all this time."

"I don't care how people perceive me. And further more you had no right to tell them my real name."

"What difference does it make? To the syndicate world you have fallen and are dead."

"There's always someone who can still track you."

"A bit paranoid, aren't we!" Gren's grin continued to stay plastered to his sweet face. Vicious began to wonder how Gren was ever so cynical and still kept his angelic and soft features.

"Is this what you came back for? To constantly pester me? What is it, pay back you wish for?" Vicious paused. "Sorry, but its going to take a little more time before you can compensate for what I've done to you."

Gren tossed his head back in pure glee. His eye's held lucid delight as he refocused his gaze unto the male in front of him. Gren realized that Vicious only knew the world of stab or be stabbed. Therefore it was only natural for Vicious to think that Gren really wanted payback for Vicious killing him twice over. However, Gren wanted something a little different. Yes, Gren did want to make Vicious feel… but feel in a way Vicious so despised that Gren would win without having to lay so much as a finger on this silver haired beauty sitting ever so belligerently before him.

Grenicia strolled over to the low nightstand where there stood a pitcher and a glass. He poured water into the cup and took out two pills from the prescription bottle. He strolled over to Vicious and held out the pills for the patient to take. Vicious stared at Gren icily. Questions were running through his head, questioning the dark haired bombshell. It wasn't so much out of fear but out of habit. The motive of this apparition standing there had to be in question, it just couldn't be so unheard of to care for someone after they tried to kill you twice…

Love...? Gren was never that naïve. Love was for the weak willed. It never really got you through much of anything. Unless of course you had someone to love you for you, thus giving you a reason to try. Vicious never had such a thing. It almost led him to believe that he never wanted such a thing. Vicious shoved the thought violently out of his mind. He got up and took two pills out of the bottle, popping them into his mouth, took the glass from Gren. Upon draining the glass he glared at his companion.

"I'll do it myself next time. Leave me now."

"Without further ado…love." Gren smirked because it irked Vicious's nerves to hear someone so fond of him. He left the room, his dark hair swaying lightly as the door shuts behind him.

-8-

Vicious's hair blew in the wind gently as he stared out across the city terrace of Mars. He breathed in deeply and grasped his chest. Apparently he hadn't fully healed yet, though he hated to admit it. He waited for his breathing to regulate before casting a irritant glance at the roof door. Sure enough, there stood a rather wobbly and jaded looking Spike.

"You look like you need a cigarette and a stretcher, Spiegel." Vicious smirked. He couldn't help but think that maybe Spike was either too weak to come, or just didn't want to come.

"Yeah well they refused me the first but the second they wanted to keep me strapped to." Spike slowly shuffled his way over to the banister where Vicious stood. For a moment Vicious could see the impatience in Spike that Vicious refused to show because of his own weak body. However, they knew they had no one to blame but themselves. As Spike slid down into sitting position much like an old man he sighs heavily.

"So what the hell did you want, Viktor?" Spike began, fumbling to open a pack of cards he'd lifted from a kid's pocket as he passed by him in the hall. Vicious sat down next to Spike and took the cards from him, opening the box easily. Without really answering he began to shuffle and deal.

"Nothing really…" Vicious stopped as he reached the seventh card, put one down face up, left the deck beside it. Neither party moved to pick up their cards. Spike's brown eyes scrutinized Vicious for that moment and then moved to pick his cards.

"I haven't played Rummy in a while." Spike said and Vicious nodded in agreement. "You're never one to waste time, so how about we quite the bullshit." Spike picked up the card and tossed another back.

"They way I'm seeing it we're just about square… You're dead, I'm dead, and the others in between are just our spooks come back to haunt us. For you…it's Eckener and for me…It's Faye…" Spike finished momentarily.

Vicious once again nodded. He pulled a card from the deck and scrutinized it for a moment. Upon deciding he didn't need it, he tossed onto the face up cards.

"They way I see it neither of us are going to have two clean hands." Spike nodded as he picked up the card Vicious tossed out. Both waited a few plays before speaking again.

"And I'm still baffled as to what I have to do with you dissipating your spooks." Spike mumbled as he tried to figure out whether or not he would need this particular card.

"Don't play stupid. You're not as naïve and reckless as you try to make out." Vicious said as he picked up the card Spike hesitantly tossed out. He had one hand put together all he needed was one card to win.

"I wish you would just say it without me having to think about what I say before I say it."

"Fine. You are my spook Spike, always have been. You just wouldn't leave, wouldn't die, and wouldn't just become absent. A nuisance. Now I realize that Gren has decided to follow in those footsteps too. I suppose I should sincerely thank you, Swimming Bird, for saving his sorry ass and sending him straight to Laughing Bull." Vicious spat out cynically as he became increasingly frustrated by the fact that his card wasn't coming up. For the first time since they began the game Vicious looked into Spike's glistening muddy pools and shook his head. Vicious picked up the second to last card. Immediately his dropped the first half of his hand and tossed back out the unwanted card. As Spike dropped the first half of his hand he chuckles as he picks up the last card. And tosses it back out.

"You bastard, you and I are building the same hand." Vicious growled, "I forgot that you always built spades."

Spike's eyes glinted in the sunlight. "I guess this one ends in a draw."

"Yeah." Vicious pushed his hair out of his face. A soft wind blew as the two sat quietly.

"Viktor…"

"What?"

"Me to you… Throw me off this roof…" Spike said as though it were the everyday norm.

"Spike… if I did that I'd be going with you."