Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Play Me Some More of that Old Blues ❯ Chapter 21 ( Chapter 21 )

 

 

Chapter 21

 

 

“Spike Spiegel… welcome back to the living.”

 

The look on Mathis's face was that of a hunting wolf. Spike stood between him and his property… and he just couldn't allow that. He tightened his fists as he felt the surging strength in his muscles. Already, the nanomachines had repaired the damage inflicted on his flesh, allowing him to face his enemy whole. Spike, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. His exertion had drained him of much of his strength, and the leg he kicked at Mathis with burned as though on fire. In spite of this, he lifted his chin and smiled, leaning slightly against the wall behind him.

 

“I'm flattered you recognize me. I should warn you though, I never kiss on the first date.”

 

Mathis chuckled, angling to the left as he waited for an opening. The banter was fun, but what he really wanted to do was tear the other man apart with his bare hands… starting with that infuriating smirk.

 

“Is that a fact? And I was just thinking you looked easy.”

 

Spike's smile hardened as he hunched his shoulders. “You willing to test that?” His legs burned with pain, but he pushed it out of his mind. He couldn't deal with discomfort right now.

 

Mathis hunched his shoulders as he feinted to the right. He wanted to keep away from the open hatch to avoid any stray shots that might come his way. Eyeing up his opponent, Mathis chuckled. In spite of his skill, Spiegel was clearly injured, barely able to hold himself upright. This shouldn't take too long.

 

Without warning, he lunged at the other man, his eyes filled with cold purpose.

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Spike ducked when Mathis charged him, smoothly avoiding the attack, but paying for it when his legs buckled. Grunting, he rolled out of the way as Mathis tried to kick him in the ribs.

 

“Give it up Spike, this is just prolonging your pain!”

 

Spike gritted his teeth as he dragged himself up a bulkhead, pushing his shoulder against the cold metal as he steadied himself. “As I see it, I'm avoiding pain.” He responded. It was time to end this. Feeling in his belt, he mentally cursed when he discovered his gun was no longer there. Looking to the other side of the passageway, he saw it near Faye, where it had apparently dropped when he'd rolled away from Mathis. There was little time to react, for Mathis was already charging again. Steeling himself, Spike prepared for the attack.

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She wallowed in the darkness as the distant sounds of battle struck around her. Something brushed her hand and she opened her eyes.

 

Faye looked forward, examining her surroundings with dull, lifeless eyes. She could feel nothing as long as she remained still. However, the moment she started to move, pain erupted within her, making her groan weakly. Her hand was under her, held against her stomach. Removing it, she saw that it had pressed against the wound, stemming the bloodflow. Grimacing at the dried crimson stains on her skin, she carefully sat up, then slouched against the bulkhead as the motion increased her pain. A loud curse made her swivel her head, only to see a blurred shape stumble clumsily against a wall in a vain attempt to avoid a swinging fist. Rubbing her eyes, she managed to clear her vision enough to realize that the man on the floor was…

 

“Spike…”

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Mathis breathed lightly, his blood pumping with endless strength. He felt nothing but contempt for the struggling man at his feet. Something twitched at the corner of his vision and he turned quickly, startled.

 

It was a butterfly. No, it was several, a dozen… hundreds. The fluttered around him like a golden snowfall, streaks of bright color following in their wake. He was nearly shaken to tears by their beauty. A sudden stab of pain lanced through his head, and was gone almost before he realized he'd felt anything. With it's passing, he felt another surge of strength. Looking down at the other man, he had the sudden desire to crush his head between his hands.

 

Acting on his impulse, he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around the scalp… and squeezing.

 

Spike struggled, grasping the rock-hard wrists in his hands as he tried to force the clenching fingers away. It was useless- the grip was too strong. Mathis laughed at the attempt, squeezing harder while Spike grunted in pain, he legs trying to sweep Mathis's feet out from under him.

 

Mathis grinned madly, thrilling in the ecstasy of death. He only released his grip when the bullet entered his back.

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Faye hunched around her stomach wound, sighting with shaking hands at the horror taking place before her. Spike was down, and Mathis was on him, crushing out his life.

 

She found the gun almost right away. She knew she had only moments- the shot had to be perfect. Aiming for the head, she prayed to whomever was listening, and squeezed the trigger.

 

“I won't lose you again.”

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Spike could feel himself fading. The pressure at his temples had lost the edge of pain, it felt more dreamlike now.

 

He remembered this feeling.

 

Once more, he stood at the chasm while his life drifted at his back. Could he willing step into it again? He said once that he wasn't going out with the intention of dying. But he didn't fear it if it came. Why would he? Anything worth living for was gone, and there was nobody depending on him to survive.

 

“Are you telling me you're going to just throw your life away?!”

 

It was her voice; broken, quiet, pleading. She desperately wanted him to stay. But what if he had? She had begged him not to leave, and he turned his back on her, a Ronin warrior on his path to war.

 

“why do you have to go…”

 

“I have been seeing the past in one eye, and the present in the other. I had believed that what I saw was not all of reality...”

 

The fingers around his head squeezed tighter. Spike kicked out blindly, but met only air. He fought twin battles, one in the present, and one in his memory.

 

“I thought I was watching a dream that I would never wake up from. Before I knew it, the dream was all over.”

 

And he had gone. And he had died. And then, all that was left for him was dreams.

 

Only this time, he wouldn't be the only one drifting in numb suffering. Someone `was' depending on him to live this time around.

 

“We're comrades, remember?”

 

He'd denied that by all the times he'd gone off on his own, and she'd reinforced it by coming to his aid… even when he didn't want it.

 

And now she needed him.

 

And suddenly, he discovered that death just didn't hold the allure that it had before. He realized, with a surge of shock, that he wanted to survive. Not for her, not for the fact that he might be needed, but because… because the dead were dead, and he might actually be able to live for once.

 

As this thought was formulating, the pressure on his skull suddenly vanished, and a heavy weight fell on him from above, slamming him to the deck.

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The bullet struck, but not where she'd intended. Never-the-less, a shot to the spine would work just as good as far as she was concerned. With Mathis incapacitated, she turned her eyes to Spike, who lay on the floor, apparently unconscious. She bit her lower lip as she forced herself to her feet. Shaking terribly, she somehow stumbled to his side.

 

She was sure he was dead. A thread of blood ran from his nose and mouth. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and his skin was so pale!

 

But, leaning closer, she saw his chest rise with one breath, and then another. Almost weeping in relief, she placed her bound hands on his cheek. “Spike…”

 

Something wasn't right. Something was missing…

 

Gunfire. The atmosphere had suddenly grown dead silent.

 

As she started to turn around, there was the sound of boots on metal. Something solid pressed at the base of her neck.

 

“I know you heal quickly, but I don't think the same can be said for your friend. With that in mind, please don't make a fuss.”

 

Turning her head, she saw the last of the personal guard of the General enter the passageway. The General himself was the one who had spoken. Dropping her pistol, she lowered her head wearily. She didn't even feel the energy for a snide comeback.

 

She knew they would kill Spike once they had her. All she wanted was a way to prevent it. There had to be a way to save him.

 

“I promise not to fight you. It isn't as if I could really do anything anyhow, being I'm fairly well tied up at the moment.” She managed a weak laugh, which fell flat at the stony expressions before her.

 

Crying had never come easy for her… at least, not until Spike walked out of her life. She had cried plenty then. In fact, she could honestly say that moment changed something within her. After careful thought, she realized it had taken away whatever was left of her childhood. She just didn't care about things the way she used to. A matronly voice inside her, she assumed belonged to her mother, wanted to say she had re-prioritized her life. In her own words, Faye thought it more likely she had simply discovered she had priorities. The main one being the unconscious body at her side.

 

She couldn't let him die again.

 

Leaning forward, against the warnings of her soon-to-be captors, she pressed her cheek against the stubbled one beneath hers. Then, breathing in his scent, she softly caressed his lips with her own. The touch caused a slight stir within him, and his eyes slowly opened, confusion filling them. “What…”

 

She turned away then, not wanting to see any other reactions he might have. For many reasons, she wished he'd just stayed asleep.

 

With resignation, she lifted her head. “You can do what you want with me. All I ask… no, beg you to do, is let him live. Please, please let him live.”

 

Though the General assured her they had no reason to kill him, she'd been around enough crooks to read the lie in his eyes. She realized, at that moment, that she'd die to keep him alive. Her eyes steady on the man in front of her, she felt at her side for the weapon she'd released earlier. She couldn't kill them all, but if she could take down the General…

 

“Sir, you need to see this!”

 

At that moment, her hands closed on the gun.

 

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