Just a quick note: Ed refers to herself as "I" once in this chapter but it's on purpose ;)

Session Thirty Seven

"You can't keep telling him no, Jet." Faye peeled the label on her beer. The two bounty hunters were sitting in a dive bar on Ganymede, waiting on a contact of Malcolm's. They were tracing yet another drug dealer with Syndicate ties, one Malcolm tracked to Ganymede following the aftermath of the events on Tharsis.

Jet grunted and took a sip of his whiskey.

"Besides, he's mostly healed."

"His ribs alone could take at least eight weeks to heal." Jet stared at the bottles on display behind the bar instead of at Faye. "And that doesn't even touch his other injuries."

Faye sighed. "Yeah, but leaving him alone so much isn't good for him either."

"He's not alone. Ed's with him."

"You know what I mean, Jet. He's dealing with more than just physical injuries from that Tower."

Jet sighed and looked over at Faye.

"I don't know what to do with him, Faye. If I let him go on a hunt, he's likely to get killed. If I keep everybody else inside until he heals, then we don't make any money. And we can't exactly afford that right now."

"You should talk to him," Faye said. "See what he wants. Give him something to do. You know what always happened to Spike when he had to sit idle."

Jet frowned. "The damn fool got introspective," he muttered. And when Spike got introspective, he let his sins catch up to him. It was what happened right before he fought the Dragon.

"But there's no Dragon anymore," Jet said softly.

Faye knew what he meant. She took a drink of her beer. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean Leon's not fighting demons."

"What do you want me to do about it, Faye?" Jet sighed.

"What we should have done for Spike all those years ago. Support him."

Jet looked over at her in a new light. "You know, I think you've earned that apology."

"I've had some time to get introspective."

Jet said no. Even though Leon pointed out that he could walk under his own power, and wouldn't be slowing anybody down. Jet pointed out that he still favored his left leg (only if he was running, Leon protested) and if he ended up in any sort of fight, he'd be at risk to further break or injure his still-healing ribs. Leon pointed out that he didn't need his ribs to walk and walking was all that was needed on a recon mission. Jet still said no. And then he walked out the door with Faye to investigate another of Malcolm's leads. Leon watched them go with a scowl, feeling like he'd been left behind yet again. What was Jet scared of anyway? It wasn't like Leon was made of glass or anything. Besides, he knew how to be careful and he wasn't stupid enough to jump into open combat yet. Leon wandered into the living room with a sigh.

Ed was draped over the couch, feet dangling over the arm, Tomato balanced on her stomach, her head on Ein, who lay sleeping behind her. She had her goggles on, and was drumming her heels against the side of the couch, humming as she browsed cyberspace. Jet told her to stay behind as well because the mission was a stealth op and he wanted her on standby in case they needed information on the fly. Leon suspected Jet also did it so that Leon would feel less left out, but it wasn't working. Ed, on the other hand, seemed unbothered by the whole ordeal.

Leon sat in a chair across the coffee table and lit a cigarette, then went back to cleaning his Jericho. He'd spread the parts of the gun across the table and he listened to Ed hum as he methodically cleaned and oiled each piece. There was something soothing in cleaning and reassembling the gun, putting its separate parts back in working order. Everything had its place and the gun only worked when everything was put together correctly. It was simple. Not like life. Not like the Bebop crew.

Like his gun, everybody in the crew functioned best in their place. The problem was, Leon wasn't sure what his place was. Despite the fact that everybody verbally expressed joy at seeing him alive and acted like they wanted him around, he still couldn't help but feel some sort of distance from the rest of the crew. And after Faye's early morning admissions and Jet's refusal to let Leon join in on any missions again, Leon wasn't sure if he'd really found his place here. After all, the crew had been functioning as a solid team without him - without Spike - for several years. Maybe they didn't need the reminder. Maybe they didn't need him. All he had done so far was shake things up and make trouble. He scowled at the rag in his hands.

He still dreamed about the Tower. The fire and the pain and the moment he pulled the trigger. Although Faye was the one who tipped off the Dragon, if he wasn't there in the first place, none of this would have happened. If he didn't get involved with the Bebop, then they wouldn't have been dragged into this mess. There wouldn't have been a "Tharsis Fiasco". Although ISSP managed to quell all but the most curious reporters' questions, Leon knew there were still a few that managed to get pictures of the Bebop crashing into the Tower. No one had positively identified the ship yet and ISSP erased all record of Leon, Jet, Faye, or Ed being involved. But Leon knew it would just be a matter of time before somebody let loose the real story. The story of Spike Spiegel and all the damage his son wracked up, trying to follow in his bloody, hell-bent footsteps.

"Watcha thinkin', Leo?" a voice broke into his thoughts.

Leon looked up to find Ed sitting up, goggles dangling around her neck, Tomato forgotten on the floor. How long had she been watching him?

Leon took a long draw on his cigarette to give himself time to think. "Not much."

Ed frowned at him. "That's a lie."

Leon sighed. Why did Ed have to be so perceptive?

"Yeah," he admitted.

"You wanna tell Ed the truth?" She cocked her head to one side.

"Not really."

Ed crawled onto the coffee table, careful of the scattered Jericho parts, so that she balanced on hands and knees only a few inches from Leon's face. She stared into his eyes. Leon stared back.

"Not the same, not the same," she exclaimed, frustrated.

"Of course they're not the same!" Leon said heatedly, feeling his face flush. He couldn't look in a bloody mirror without being reminded that they weren't the same anymore.

"No." Ed frowned. "That's not what Ed meant. There's something there that wasn't there before. Something sad. Something cold." She shivered. "Something...like Spike person."

Leon took another draw on his cigarette and breathed out slowly, watching the smoke drift between him and Ed. He didn't know what to say to that. It was the first time Ed had ever compared him directly to Spike. She'd been the only one who never seemed to care that Leon was Spike's son and to see Leon as just Leon. To hear her make the comparison now made his heart sink.

"Ed...that's…" His throat suddenly felt tight and he paused to clear it. "That's why I have to go," he blurted out.

"Go?" Ed's eyes got wide. "Go where?"

"I don't know." Leon clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

"Don't you like it here?" Ed asked, sitting back on her heels.

"I do," Leon said. "But I don't think I'm good for -" He broke off.

"Good for what?"

"For the Bebop."

"Leo." Ed looked him straight in the eye. "Bebop Bebop has seen so much, there's literally nothing bad for her. Ed could throw grenades at her and Jet would still know how to patch her up. There's no way you could hurt Bebop."

Leon just stared at Ed. How could she be so naive? How could she be so optimistic? How come Ed never took anything seriously?! He felt anger, hot and all-too-familiar, build up in his chest. "I'm not talking about the ship, lunkhead!" he yelled.

Ed looked as surprised as if he'd just slapped her.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Leon broke eye contact first and stood up, snuffing his cigarette in an ashtray on the table. He walked out of the room without saying anything. Ed sat in the middle of the coffee table. "Neither am I," she whispered.

Leon hurried down the hall to Spike's room, slamming the door behind him. He leaned back against the door and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in unruly tangles. He couldn't stay here. He couldn't risk tearing up the crew again. He'd seen the absolute shock on Ed's face when he'd yelled at her just now. He'd never yelled at Ed before. Something was wrong. Something was...off. Ed was right. Something was different. And it wasn't good different.

Leon stood up and took a deep breath. He may not know exactly what was wrong, but he knew what he could do to fix it. He could remove the part of the equation that didn't fit.

Just like Spike, a small voice in the back of his head said. But he shoved it down and grabbed a coat from the closet. Next he grabbed a tattered backpack from under the bed - one of the few things that he'd added to the room - and tossed a few belongings into it. A change of clothes, a carton of bullets, a toothbrush. Nothing else seemed important. In fact, nothing else in here was even his. It was all Spike's. He wouldn't take it. The objects that Faye coveted so much would finally be hers again. She'd be happy at least. She could make the room look like he'd never been here.

They could all go back to the way it was. They could pretend they never met Leon. That none of this ever happened. That the Tower was a bad dream. Leon grabbed the backpack and slung it over one shoulder, then slipped out of his room. He avoided the living room to avoid Ed, and instead took some of the service hatches to the hangar. The hangar was dark, the Redtail and the Hammerhead hunched like watchful sentinels. Leon slunk past them and slipped into the back with the Swordfish. He felt a little guilty about taking the Swordfish, but Jet did give him the ship. And there was no good way for him to get out of here without her. He had no doubt that if he set off on foot, Jet, Faye, and Ed would find him before the day was up. He needed to get away and get away fast. They'd probably track the Swordfish, so he'd use her to get a good distance between them, then ditch her and let them find her. They could take her back and put her in the hangar again, and admire the memories she stood for.

Leon tossed his backpack up into the cockpit and started to climb in after it when he realized that he'd left the Jericho sitting half dismantled on the coffee table. He didn't have a gun. And he didn't have enough wulongs to buy one either. Besides some pocket change, he didn't have any of the recently-acquired bounty money. It had all gone towards doctors, repairs, or Ed's hospital bill - yet another thing that wouldn't have happened if he wasn't there. He paused, torn between going back for the Jericho or leaving without running the risk of seeing Ed again. He could always take some odd jobs and earn enough money to get himself a new gun, then take up bounty hunting once he'd reestablished himself. That was it. He'd just start from scratch again. It wasn't like he hadn't done that before, just a fifteen-year-old kid with an ambition to make something greater out of himself than an orphan with no connections and no resources. He'd built himself out of the dust once already. He could do it again.

He turned back to climb up into the Swordfish's cockpit only to find Ed sitting in it. She had a backpack of her own on her back and from the bulging lump inside, she'd packed Tomato. Her goggles dangled around her neck and she sat with her arms crossed, looking ahead. He tried to cover his surprise. He hadn't even heard her walk into the hangar.

"Ed!" Leon exclaimed. "What are you doing in there?"

"Ed's going too," she said.

"What? No! You can't go!"

"Why not? You're going."

"That's...different!"

"Why?" Ed asked.

"Because I…" Leon balled his hands into fists as he searched for a good reason. "Because you belong here, that's why," he finally said.

"And Leo doesn't belong?"

"No, I…" Leon paused. "Just get out of the cockpit, Ed. I'm not taking you with me."

"Tough cookies," Ed said. She rummaged in the cockpit for a minute and came up with Leon's backpack. "If Leo isn't taking Ed with him, then Leo's not leaving." She tossed the backpack out of the cockpit. Leon sidestepped to avoid getting hit with it, feeling anger burn in his chest again.

"Ed, I'm serious. Get out of the cockpit."

"Ed's serious, too."

Leon growled, feeling the anger flare to white-hot rage. "You can't stop me!"

"Leo's thoughts aren't walking in straight lines."

"Well, you aren't making sense."

"Neither is Leo!" Ed yelled.

With a frustrated snarl, Leon jumped up onto the edge of the cockpit. He tried to shove Ed out of the way. Ed refused to move. Despite being smaller than Leon, she had better leverage in the cockpit.

"Leo, why are you doing this?" she asked, and he found himself distantly surprised that she sounded like she was about to cry. Ed never cried. Ed was Ed. She buoyantly floated along untouched by whatever happened around her - always optimistic, always smiling, always bright and happy and -

Leon surprised himself almost as much as Ed when his punch landed square on her jaw. Ed's head snapped back. She let herself roll with the punch, absorbing as much of the hit as she could. But when she looked back up at Leon there was something angry and dangerous in her gaze. When he hit her, she'd bitten her lip and now she wiped ruby blood from the edge of her mouth.

"Get out of the cockpit, Ed," Leon said again, his voice low, foreign.

"Don't make Ed do this, Leo."

He grabbed the front of her shirt.

"Don't make me do this!" she yelled.

He pulled.

She stood up, moving with the momentum of his pull and shoved him back, hard, both hands against his shoulders. He lost his perch on the edge of the Swordfish and tumbled backward with a surprised shout. He hit the floor and something in his side snapped. His breath left him in a whoosh and he lay flat on his back, gasping for enough air to groan.

Ed leapt from the cockpit and landed in a crouch straddling Leon. Her feet were on either side of his torso, one hand braced on the floor by his head, the other drawn back as if wound up for a hit. Leon sucked uselessly at air that wouldn't come. He coughed, curling protectively around his right side. Ed didn't stop him, just loomed over him as he lay in the floor, her presence a live wire like nothing Leon had encountered before. There was something feral in Ed's presence, something wild, something untamed. Something fierce and protective...and good. Something that made him feel like a fool.

And then water splashed his face and he looked up to see Ed was crying. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. But her voice was steady when she asked. "Can you breathe?"

Leon gasped a welcome breath between the stabbing pain in his side. Like someone inserted a blade between each rib, sliding it through flesh and bone, straight for his heart. He nodded.

"Good." Ed stood up then, uncoiling like a spring released from pressure. Then she walked away. She paused at the stairs leading up into the Bebop. "You know where to find Ed," she said. Then she walked upstairs and Leon was left alone in the dark hangar, the ships looming over him like scowling judges.

It took some time before Leon felt like he had enough breath in his body to move. Breathing hurt again, a constant reminder of the fact that Jet was right. He wasn't healed enough to be on a mission yet. And he'd been such an idiot. Leon slowly uncurled himself, then got to his hands and knees. He paused a moment and took a few deep breaths, pressing his hand to his side. He needed to find Ed.

He got to his feet and walked up the stairs, pausing once to catch his breath. Ed wasn't in the living room when he got there. Neither was Ein or Tomato. He leaned against the back of a chair. Ed said he'd know where to find her, but she could be very hard to find when she wanted. He was pretty sure she knew places in the ship that no one else had ever set foot. Did she even want to be found?

You know where to find Ed. That sounded like she did want him to find her. Which meant that she'd be somewhere he could get to, even injured. She knew he couldn't climb right now. And he couldn't crawl through tight spaces. So she had to be somewhere he could walk to. Which still left a large amount of the ship to search. Leon sighed and started looking.

In the end, he found her in the kitchen, which wasn't intuitive at all, but maybe if he wasn't tired and upset and struggling to breathe, he would've puzzled it out. She was tossing crackers at Ein who was lapping them up and barking between crackers, as if they were having a conversation. Ed held a bundle of ice wrapped in a towel to her face, water trickling slowly down her arm.

"Ed knows, Ein," Ed sighed as Leon hovered uncertainly in the doorway. "But he's not thinking, think, think, think. He's gotten all muddled up here," Ed put a finger to her temple, then tossed Ein another cracker. "But it hurts in here," Ed pointed at her heart. "And he doesn't want to say so."

Ein whined at her.

"This?" Ed pointed at her jaw. "That was Leo's say so," she said.

Ein barked and growled.

"No, Ed doesn't think you should bite him." Ed shook her head.

Ein tilted his head and caught another cracker. He barked again.

"Maybe," Ed said. "But your teeth are sharp."

Then she looked up and her eyes met Leon's and she frowned. He lingered in the doorway, uncertain.

"You should sit down before you fall down," Ed said, pointing to a chair at the table. Leon nodded and shifted to take a step, but the room spun. He leaned against the wall and slid down the door frame until he was sitting in the floor, right arm tucked closely against his side, like maybe he could heal broken ribs with sheer pressure. Ed stood up and walked over to the door, looking down at Leon worriedly. Ein trotted after her, although Leon suspected it was more out of concern for the missing crackers than for him.

"Is Leo ok?" Ed asked, kneeling beside him and staring at him with those wide, amber eyes.

Leon shook his head, finding himself short of breath.

"It's this?" Ed said, laying her towel and ice in the floor and putting a hand to Leon's side.

He gasped as she gently probed his skin, grating bone beneath. He noticed that she had a reddish-purple bruise spreading along her jaw and her lower lip was swollen where she'd bitten it.

"I'm sorry, Ed," he said.

"Oh, this?" Ed said, putting a hand to her face. "It could be worse." She shrugged.

Leon yelped as she touched a particularly sore spot.

She reached out and began unbuttoning his shirt like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Ed…" he protested, but she continued until all the buttons were undone, then she opened his shirt and moved his right arm out of the way.

His side was still bruised from his fall at the Tower and marked with the healing scars of the katana. The bruises were faded into awkward shades of green and yellow as the blood under his skin dissipated. But there was a new mark in the middle of the old bruises. A mark that nearly matched the coloring on Ed's face.

"Now we're even," she said.

Leon attempted a chuckle, but he winced as it shifted things in his side. "Not even close," he said.

"Well, Ed's sorry Leo hurts more," Ed huffed.

"No...that's...not what I meant. I'm sorry I hit you. I…"

"Was angry?" Ed supplied when Leon didn't finish.

Leon nodded.

"How come?" Ed tilted her head.

He looked away. "Because…" he took a deep breath, putting a hand back to his side. "Because I feel like...I don't belong. Faye is afraid she'll break me...if she looks at me wrong. Jet will barely give me the time of day, even when I ask. They...left me behind," Leon finished weakly.

"That's because they're concerned about Leo," Ed said. "They're scared that Leo will get hurt, and Faye Faye still feels sorry for what she did. They care about you," she said. Ed looked over at Ein with a knowing wink, then looked back at Leon.

"If you say so."

"And has Ed ever given Leo reason to doubt her?"

"No," Leon admitted.

Ed smiled like she'd just solved all of Leon's problems.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Stop trying to be somebody other than Leo," Ed said. "Stop trying to forge a place on Bebop Bebop. She already accepts you as one of her own." Ed smiled up at the ceiling like the ship was a sentient being. "Leo doesn't need to worry about where he belongs."

Leon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's if I belong," he murmured.

"No one questioned that." Ed put her hands on her hips. "It's just that...well, Leo's like glass. Beautiful and breakable. Jet and Faye Faye don't know what to do with breakable."

"I...don't know what to do with that analogy." Leon shook his head.

"Ed knows what to do." Ed grinned.

"What's that?"

"Figure out what this does!" She pointed at Leon's right eye.

Leon looked at her for a long moment. Ed had been begging him to let her look at his eye ever since he was healed enough to sit up. He'd been careful to avoid thinking about what it might do so he didn't activate any more unexpected upgrades and he'd turned Ed down every time she'd asked about looking at it. Because, if he was honest, he didn't want the reminder. He had half a mind to get it removed. But now...maybe that's what he needed. A problem to solve. A distraction. Something to repair relations between him and Ed.

"Alright," he said. "Let's see what it does."

"Hooray!" Ed jumped up and pumped her fist in the air.

Ein barked excitedly. Maybe this meant more crackers.