Session 1.5: Dreadful Dichotic Diversions of a Dreaming Damsel

"Where ya going?"

"Why are you going?"

He looked more annoyed than surprised or worried that she had a gun in his face, and it made her sick; he knew she wouldn't hurt him, and he was going to leave no matter what she was about to say.

Why are you going to see Vicious? Didn't you just say he framed you?

I want to see if he really did.

You're going to die.

"You told me once to forget the past; 'cuz it doesn't matter. But you're the one still tied to the past, Spike."

You drove me,

Nearly drove me, out of my head.

While you never shed a tear.

Look at my eyes Faye.

She didn't want to look. She didn't want to hear what he was going to say, but she was scared. Scared how suddenly close he was. Scared at how set and determined his face was when he leaned over her. She was too caught up in fear to look away or close her eyes. All she could do was look up from one mismatched eye to the other, wondering how all this time she had never noticed. It was unnerving. Like he was staring straight into her soul; and yet it wasn't out of love or curiosity. It was as if he were trying to implant what he had to say into her; as if it was supposed to make her believe the lame excuse he had for running off on a suicide mission.

One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then I've been seeing the past in one eye, and the present in the other. So I thought I could only see patches of reality; never the whole picture.

Remember?

I remember all that you said.

I'm not afraid to die.

You're lying.

Why? Why was he telling her? Why did he have to wait until his last moments to let her in on his personal life?

I felt like I was watching a dream I'd never wake up from.

His lips were curling into a smile now, she realized. Was this all a joke to him? Did she really mean nothing to him after all they had been through?

But before I knew it, the dream was all over.

Either way, I won't last much longer.

You told me love was too plebian,

Julia… That's all that ever mattered to him. That's all he ever cared about. She was dead, and now a part of him was dead to. He saw no reason to live, so he was going off to die on a mission to kill the one person who was responsible.

Her anger was turning to grief, and by now her tough exterior had all but broken down. She had one last chance to keep him from going. She had to show him at least she cared about his life even if he didn't, despite how often it seemed to the contrary. Pity was the only card she had left in the deck up her sleeve, and he was already taking a few steps down the hallway.

You told me you were through with me, and-…

"My… memory… finally came back. But nothing good came of it. There was no place for me to return to… this was the only place I could go… And now you're leaving; just like that."

Now you say you love me.

Silence claimed the hallway, and she was starting to lose it. The warmth in her cheeks and the tickle in the bridge of her nose were only reminders of just how little time she had left to hold back. How little time she had to keep her dignity up and not break down crying in front of him.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you going to do? Just throw your life away like it was nothing?" Her voice was cracking and what little anger she mustered towards the end was forced as she turned to his back.

Well, just to prove that you do.

He didn't even bother to face her.

Maybe I wanted to be with someone… I- I don't know…

I'm not going there to die. I'm going to find out if I'm really alive. I have to do it Faye.

C'mon and cry me a river…

Deep down she could hear in his voice he didn't want to go, but his thick-headed mind was made up. She could barely raise her gun even with the spike of anger that flowed through her. If he wanted to die, she'd be the one to do the deed for him. But she couldn't bring herself to it; her hand was so shaky that she couldn't possibly promise an accurate shot even if she tried. And if she injured him, he'd never forgive her before it healed up and he just headed off again. All she could do was raise her gun up and hope the sound alone could stop him in his tracks. But even as she squeezed off shot after shot, he continued on down the hallway unflinchingly; as if she really wasn't there and the bullets flying his way hadn't even made a sound.

Cry me a river…

Before she knew it, he had faded away… like a ghost that was never really there; a figment of her imagination that had never cared about her or Jet or anyone on the Bebop. Was it all a dream? No. It couldn't be. He was just a fallen angel that looked after them when he didn't have personal business to attend to.

'But if it was,' she wondered, 'is he fading from mine, or am I the one being discarded from his?'

'Cause I cried a river over you.

Her mind faded to a battle-worn Spike standing in a small pool of blood in the middle of a room, bleeding from god knows where. Surrounding him were syndicate guards leveling their various machine guns and pistols in his direction, Vicious standing from a balcony above smiling his cold smile. Spike held his own cocky smile, a grenade with the pin pulled in one hand, and his Jericho aimed at the cold blooded madman in the other. There was no way he could win this time; not with his life at any rate, but he was going to make sure he'd go out in typical Spike style once his objective was complete…

With a bang.

The silence that hung in the air was so thick, not even a breath could be heard as everyone held their positions in the stalemate. It seemed like her mind was stuck in a freeze frame until she noticed Spikes lips mouthing off inaudible words. That's when a single gunshot rang out; the sound no doubt Spikes Jericho, followed by a slew of gunfire that erupted around him. She didn't even watch Vicious to see if he went down or not. All she saw was the grenade drop from Spike's hand and clink along the blood-soaked floor, its sound suddenly the only one heard despite the continuous pattering of gunfire. As it rolled to a rest a few seconds later, a bright orange light filled her vision as it exploded.

Faye awoke with a start, almost falling off the Red Tail before regaining her balance on top of the ship once more. Confused and slightly jumpy after the shot of adrenaline, she searched the hangar to gain her bearings in the low light.

Huh. Must've dozed off.

Outside the hangar door, the sky greeted her with an orange hue, signifying the morning of a new day on Mars.

Either she had been sweating or the morning's dew had clung to her skin because she felt damp, and it immediately made her feel like death sitting there in the hangar; nothing but cold metal and air surrounding her. Trying to bring some sort of warmth back to her body, she hugged her arms together and began to rub the clammy appendages absentmindedly, attempting to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine as she continued to look around.

Geez, it's freezing cold in here.

When her gaze reached the balcony inside the hangar, she found Jet hunched over the railing, watching her quietly from his spot with a blank expression.

"You're still here" he stated as her gaze met his, no real expression or tone in his voice.

Her brow creased slightly as she continued to watch him, both cold and slightly confused. Why was he standing there? Why was he watching her?

Slowly, a knowing look fell upon his face in the silence and he nodded slightly. "C'mon…" his brusque voice hithered. "I'm lifting this heap up to orbit." And with that, he turned around and walked through the door.

Faye's mind was still cloudy with sleep, so she decided to just shrug it off; allowing her body to go through the motions as she carefully made her way down from the top of her ship and strolled to the door. She briefly paused at a nearby console to close the hangar door before she continued to subconsciously follow his path back into the Bebop like a distracted child trailing an unwatchful parent.

As she worked her way to the control room, she passed her own room and paused. It took her a moment to realize what she was thinking before she reached for the door and twisted the switch to open it. Walking inside, the familiar smell greeted her and she began pondering her options. Should she throw on a better shirt? Nah, not enough. Her coat? It wouldn't warm up her legs. With a groan she bounced down on her bed, trying to remember if she actually had any pants.

"What I really need is a warm shower." she moaned. But that was out of the question for now. If Jet was taking off, the Bebop would be too unstable to take a shower. With a sigh, she laid back on her bed, her hands feeling around before grabbing a fist full of her comforter in each hand. "Why Jet?" she began to whine as she wrapped it around her. "Why do we have to take off now?"

Faye strolled into the control room, her green comforter wrapped tightly around her frame. As she turned the corner she saw Jet at the control chair, typing away at his keyboard, getting things ready for takeoff. A moment later her eyes caught sight of the large dent in the metal console behind him. Drawing closer, she snaked a hand out from the comforter and traced the edges of it.

This wasn't here last night…

"Here." Jet turned towards her, having realized her presence behind him. "I made you some coffee." He held out a mug of steamy black liquid, and there was a moment of hesitation before she finally took it from him. A small smirk grew on his face. "Figured it'd keep your mouth occupied long enough to keep our arguments to a minimum."

Faye raised an warning eyebrow at him, and after an awkward moment of stares and a clearing of his throat, he turned away, busying himself again with the controls. She gingerly raised the cup to her face, and allowed the steam to warm it some. Taking a small sip, she relished the warmth before replying. "Thanks." She cooed, inhaling some steam through her nostrils. "I needed something warm." Jet's fingers paused for a second before continuing their movements, leaving the two to be in their own worlds for the time being.

"So…" the bald bounty hunter offered, hoping to gauge just how lax Faye's personality was for the moment "what were you doing sleeping in the hangar; if you don't mind me asking?"

"I-…" Faye dragged her cloak of a comforter over to her seat from the night before and sat down with her coffee. "… I must've dozed off" she pondered. "Not sleeping for two days, y'know." She took another big sip of coffee and watched the Bebop turn to point towards an open path for takeoff.

"I see." The ship began to accelerate.

Faye watched the water beneath them fall away as more and more of the rust colored sky took up the windows of the Bebop.

"Still no word?" she asked as the rust started fading into blue.

"No word." Jet responded from behind her. "All I know is it's a mess down there and the ISSP are keeping a tight seal on things. When it comes to the Syndicates, things usually stay that way since no one wants to put their neck on the line for possibly releasing some sort of info the Syndicates don't want released." Faye bowed her head and took another sip of coffee, huddling in her comforter. She was finally starting to feel warm again.

"Don't you have people inside?"

Jet groaned. "I do Faye, but it's complicated alright? Not everyone can just snoop around or hack their way into any information they want." With that, she decided to quiet down. She still wasn't in any mood to argue, and Jet seemed like he was attempting to be nice; apparently not in the mood to argue either, but willing to if it came down to it.

Aside from the dull thrum of the Bebop's engines, the two sat in silence until Jet finally brought them to orbit. Blue had faded to black, and Faye took the last sip of her coffee.

"You never did tell me what happened to Ed" she posed, breaking the long silence between the two. "Just that she left while I was gone."

She heard a sigh escape from behind her and the engines slowly wind down. "There's not much else to tell." Jet replied, staring off into the space ahead of them. "Ed used us to find her father with a fake bounty. Everything seemed fine and made sense except a few minutes later he ditched her again on some stupid quest to map all the craters caused by meteor strikes. She seemed to take it fairly well considering, but I just don't understand how you can do that to a child. Anyway, she came home with us that night, but then took off without a word; just a message of 'Bye Bye' and a goofy face painted on the deck. Apparently she gave Spike a pinwheel, but that's all I know." She heard him get up from his seat, and watched his reflection turn from the windows. "Ein disappeared that night as well."

Faye set her mug down beside her and began unwrapping the comforter from her body. "It's my fault." She muttered with a hung head.

"What's that?" He turned around to see what he could of the top of her head.

"All of it. It's all my fault, isn't it." She began folding the comforter to keep busy.

"Now hold on. How can it be your fault Faye?" Jet questioned uneasily from his position. "You weren't even around when the kid vanished."

"Before I left, I told her to find where she belonged. That it was the best thing in the world; belonging." Her folding continued. "I just hope it actually works out for her, unlike it did for me."

Jet scratched the back of his head. This was so un-Faye-like, he didn't know how to respond.

"I told her to leave Jet, and she listened." She stood up; the comforter neatly folded in her hands. "She listened, and she took Ein with her." She turned to face him, her green eyes falling to the floor. "And… Spike…" she tapered off. "If… I hadn't met Julia…they wouldn't have met. She'd probably still be alive and he-" Jet could tell she was beating herself up inside, but there was nothing he could do but listen. "It's my fault the crew fell apart Jet. My fault. The one thing I had left, and I tore it all apart."

He waited, trying to think of something to say. Something that would snap her out of it.

"You really are a lucky woman, aren't you."

A small noise escaped from her lips, and her wide open eyes slowly began to narrow in his direction. "And just what's that supposed to mean Jet?" He smiled.

That's more like the Faye I know.

"You never wanted the kid in the first place, and Spike always drove you halfway up a wall if you were even in the same room together. Heck, I'm not even sure you and Ein ever got along either, so really, this should be a dream come true for you, right?"

Her head backed away; out of what, he couldn't tell, but he did know he had struck something. Something she was unsure about herself. Her face settled into a glare once more and she headed for the door, a throaty mumble escaping her lips as she passed him. Something he thought he made out as "I'm taking a shower."

He groaned just out of earshot once he finally decided that's what she had said.

"Women. They never work on reason."

And that's probably a good ending point for something unfinished. It may have gotten a little confusing in the beginning, but when you're overlaying the conversations Faye had with Spike and Gren on top of the stylistic jazz choice of Cry Me a River, I suppose it's bound to. Let me know what you think as comments and critiques are always welcome to better myself as a writer. Hope you enjoyed it. :)