Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop.

Part 1: The Dark Side

The two former friends stood there, each panting slightly. It was time and each knew it.

"Julia is dead." A bit of a pause, then, "Let's finish it now."

"As you wish." There was the sound of a katana slicing, simultaneous with a gunshot and then...Vicious fell. Spike looked up at the sky and thought of her. 'It's all a...dream,' were her last whispered words. 'Yeah, just a dream,' he had responded. Shaking his head slightly, he began the slow decent down the stairs.

No matter how many injuries he had obtained in the past, Spike could not remember this amount of pain in his body. Vicious' katana had essentially sliced open his abdomen, and with each step down the stairs, Spike couldn't help cringing. Halfway down, he simply decided it was time to give up. Facing the confused men, he held up his hand and formed a gun. "Bang."

First there was a thought of complete and intense pain. Next there was a thought of an itch. Finally, there was a thought of the inability to move.

"Shhh," a voice slid across the air. The soft, feminine lilt caressed his ears, enough to distract from the itch. "I rescued you, you know." the voice continued. "They were going to burn everything before the ISSP arrived, but I got your body out of there first. He did quite a number on you. But you killed him...I saw his star burn out. And yours shines bright."

"Mmmhpmh..." He tried to speak, but even his mouth was taped shut.

"I know, just give it a little bit of time. You were in a coma a long time, it's been nearly two months. Now give me some time, I'll get you out of these bandages. I've kept working with you, so while you won't be as good as new immediately, you also should at least be able to move around." He could feel her moving around, undressing the wounds. It was a long, tedious process, and still painful enough. "I am sorry. You'll be in pain a long time, I think. Vicious really did a number on you..." Enough of the bandages had come off that he was able to move his arms, and he grabbed the slender arm that was working on him. "Ow!" she squeaked, "How are you so strong?" He pulled her hand to his face. "Alright, I'll get the bandages off your face, let me go!" He relaxed his grip, and let his hand drop. As she worked, his mind wandered. Julia was dead, Vicious was dead, was there anything left? When the final bandage was lifted, his eyes blinked, then shut against the light. "Yeah, it'll take you some time to get used to it," the voice laughed. She continued to work, and he kept testing his eyes. Little glimpses of her imprinted themselves in his mind. Brown skin, long black hair pulled back into a braid. A single feather was placed in it. A soft dressed hugged a curvaceous form, seemingly made of some sort of animal skin. He felt the last of the bandages free him, and his body was covered in a soft blanket. "Would you like to sit up?" she asked. He nodded. It was painful, moving, and his arms didn't work very well. With her help, he managed to sit up. He finally managed to make it, and managed to open his eyes. Soft brown eyes were looking into his. A smile curved on her lips.

"Who..." was all he could manage to get out. She laughed.

"I think you know my grandfather. You certainly visited him enough..." His eyes widened in realization. "Yes, alright. He asked me to find you, rescue you. You're work is not finished. He says there is a greater plan for you to finish. So here you are. As soon as you can walk, I'll take you back to your crew." She turned away from him, and busied herself cleaning up the bandages. He stared at her with mismatched eyes. Try as he might, all he could see was her. There was no more past to see. The dream had ended.

Jet was busy making bell peppers and beef (sans beef) as usual. He found the routine was really the thing that was getting him through. The first week had been hell. Not knowing...but after that, he had simply assumed the worst. Thus, the second week was easy. A numb sort of feeling invaded him, and he found all he could do was stare at his bonsai trees. Then he forced himself to move, and the last month and a half had been all about routine. He knew he'd never have another partner like Spike, and he found he didn't want one. Sure, he'd catch the occasional bounty-head, but simply enough to survive. It was all he needed. Well, and there was Faye...

"Faye! Dinner!" He settled down, and dug in. The woman appeared in the doorway.

"Again?" She staggered in, and collapsed in the chair provided. Poking at the peppers, she frowned at Jet. "Seriously, this is all we've had for, I don't know long." Jet smiled at her.

"And yet we still manage. Come on, eat now. Really, you're not doing anyone any good by not eating." He demonstrated how delicious the food was by taking a big bite. She rolled her eyes and continued poking the peppers. Faye hadn't done well. She was thin, large bags under her eyes, and often forgot to put on her makeup. She supposed it was because it had all happened after she discovered her past, and realized there was nothing there. While she still wouldn't admit it, there was a part of her that desperately wanted Spike to be a big part of her future. When it seemed that possibility couldn't happen, she felt deflated. It seemed more as if she couldn't find a purpose for herself. And yet, her spirit continuously fought for her to go on, whether she wanted to or not.

"What is the point?" She had murmured it mostly to herself, but Jet looked up.

"The point to what?"

"Well...I guess life." She raised her eyes and looked at Jet. Really looked at him, straight into his eyes. And he looked back.

"Making it," he responded. "And trying to have the best damn time you can while making it." He shrugged. "That's the only thing I can come up with anyway. Faye, are you alright?" She had just started to shake, and he leapt up, catching her just as she almost fell out of her chair.

"I've tried," she whispered. Jet had never been this close to her, and he suddenly found out why exactly she had always had a certain effect on men. "Jet..." Her arms circled around him and she cried. It was all he could do to hold her, since he knew there was no other way he could comfort her.

BEEP! 'You have an incoming call.'

"What?" Jet looked up. The computer screen flashed and a face came up on the monitor. A face Jet certainly never expected to see again. Faye looked up, gasped, and did something she swore she never would do. She fainted.

As Spike eased himself onto the old yellow couch next to the unconscious Faye, he smiled at Jet. "So apparently I had another life still in me," he said. Jet shook his head.

"We assumed the worst, you know," he replied. "I think we had even gotten over most of the grieving process. Where were you? How'd you survive?"

"Ah, that would be our old Indian pal. Turns out he's got a granddaughter, who was sent to save me. Apparently, I've got things to take care of. Besides my past. Anyway, I guess she took care of me. I'm still not healed, per se, but I'm awake. She gave me this envelope, says it contains what I need to do next." Spike weakly held up a manilla envelope. Jet reached for it, and opened it for him.

"Another envelope, and a note," he said, handing them both to Spike. The plain white paper had a rough scrawl on, and the white envelope had a much neater script. Spike's face paled, as he recognized both the distinctive handwritings. He opened the note.

Spike,

Julia asked me to send this to you. I guess she wants to lay low. Listen, stay out of trouble. Don't go crazy looking for her still, you know what will happen. What always happens... Just protect yourself.

Annie

Spike sighed. This was not what he needed. He wanted to move on now, everyone had died. So, why was the past still haunting him? He gently opened Julia's letter under Jet's watchful eye.

Darling Spike,

You have to know at least part of my reasons for not coming with you. I know you, I know you'll understand. It's been three years now. I can feel that something is going to happen. If I meet with you again, I'll know whether it's good or bad. You always tell me. So here. If you make it out alive, there is something you must do. Visit the Montasorri Orphanage on Mars. Spike, part of the reason I ran was to protect a hidden dream. I was pregnant, and our daughter is there. You'll know her when you see her. Please be her father, if I am not able to be her mother.

I love you.

Yours always,

Julia