Awakenings

By: HornyBitch

Disclaimer: if I owned Cowboy Bebop, do you *really* think that I would end the series like that? Well I wouldn't, so I don't. Own CB I mean.

Warnings: No lemons yet, probably none for this fic. But beware swear words. I tend to cuss like a sailor sometimes, and writing Bebop characters just gives me more of an excuse to loosen my tongue, so to speak. It will probably also get violent later on, but I'll make sure to tell you when that's going to happen. So far though, the rating is just for language.

A/N: okay, well, I hadn't actually intended to write the prequel to Wonderful just yet. I was gonna finish Wonderful first. Unfortunately, I got a little sidetracked due to sudden inspiration and out popped . . . this. Anyway, I am still working on Wonderful, but I'm alternating it with Awakenings. And even though I know I promised it'd be up last week, it could be a while before I upload. Writer's block can be such a pain in the @$$ I tell you. ^^;. Anyhoo, I hope you like this. It's probably a little different than most 'Spike's still alive' fics, but it should still be interesting. ^_~

~*~

Oblivion. Sweet oblivion.

I welcome you with open arms.

Why not welcome me too?

We belong together, you and I.

We go well together, you and I.

We could be lonely together, and cry together.

We could die dismal deaths together,

And then sweet oblivion . . .

We could rot in hell together, just you.

And I.

So, Spike was dead. There was no doubt about it. At least in Faye's grief stricken mind. And even if he wasn't dead then, at that moment, he would be. And then where would she be? Right back where she'd started she supposed. Back in a world where she knew no one, and no one gave a damn about her. Back at square one.

She leaned her head back against the wall behind her bed, letting the tears drip down her cheeks and then land on her lap. She couldn't seem to stop them. They just kept coming. They hadn't stopped, in fact, since Spike had left to get himself killed.

"I need to find out if I'm really alive." He'd said.

What bullshit. Even Faye knew the answer to that. Without Julia he wasn't alive. He'd probably never be alive again, he was so in love with her. And how did Faye know this? Because that was exactly how she felt about him. Without Spike, what point was there in living? There was no point. No point at all.

God she was crazy. To be sitting in the dark crying over Spike Spiegel. It wasn't like he cared about her at all. He always treated her like shit. Like she was below him. Like he could do better. And she supposed that he had. She'd met Julia after all. She knew now what she'd been up against. And slutty, annoying, whining, incapable Faye Valentine was definitely no Julia.

Still, she was something wasn't she? Something other than just a nuisance? No, no she wasn't. That was evident too. She had no family. Her friends were incoherent mummies, her house was gone, hell, her entire home planet was a freakin' wasteland. She had no one to call her own. Her own father. Her own mother. Her own brother or uncle or friend or boyfriend. She was nothing. No one. A ghost.

Only difference between her and a ghost was that Faye could still breathe. And she didn't want to anymore.

She hugged her knees and pressed her face against them. It was only seconds before her skin was soaked and salty from the tears she was sobbing. Her shoulders were shaking and she could barely breathe, she was crying so hard. And she didn't care. Not like she used to, back when crying had been for the weak. Now all she could think was that she needed to cry because she felt so dejected. So lost. So depressed.

Why Spike? Why? Was it because of Julia? Or Vicious? Or both of them? Did he want revenge, or did he just want to end it all? Or was it both of them? Knowing Spike, it was all of the above. Because Spike could never leave something simple and uncomplicated. Everything had a hidden message. Everything was important. Even if he didn't really believe that, that's the aura he gave off.

But why did he have to die? Why did he have to leave Faye by herself? Alone and scared and mourning? She clenched her hands around her arms, her nails biting into the skin.

Faye supposed that the thing she hated most about situations like this were all the why questions that came out of it. Why did it happen? Why did it happen to me? Why, why, why? Because there was no real answer to any why question. No valid one anyway.

She stopped crying suddenly and sat up, wiping her eyes. Screw this. She didn't want to cry anymore. She didn't want to hurt anymore. She didn't want to give a fuck about anything anymore. She didn't need this.

Faye stood up and packed some clothes into a small, red backpack that matched her sweatshirt.

She pulled on over her back and went out to the Red Tail. It was still in bad shape. But Jet had said it would run. At least, she thought that that was what he had yelled through her door after he'd been working on it for four hours. But she wasn't sure. She'd still been crying too hard.

She climbed in and started the Red Tail up. She left the Bebop that night, with no intention of ever turning back. She didn't want to. It would be too painful to be there without Ed and Ein and . . . Spike.

She stared out at the rapidly passing stars.

As she flew she thought about something Jet had told her. He'd gone to visit some old Indian guy and the Indian guy had told Jet that everyone has a guardian star that is born with them. When they die, it flickers and dies as well. He'd said that Spike's star was going to fall. It was going to flicker and die.

And as she stared out at the stars, she thought she saw one flicker. And then die. But she ignored it. Because Faye had never been one for folklore. Or fairy tales. Or superstitions. And somewhere, deep inside, she still wanted to be able believe that Spike wasn't really dead.

The first conscious thought that flitted through Spike Spiegel's mind was, "Damn, that hurts." The second was, "If I'm dead, why does it hurt?" That thought lead to a third. A third that he didn't want to think, but did anyway. "I'm not dead, am I?"

Well, why in the hell not? Julia was dead. Vicious was dead. Shin and Annie were dead too. If all of them had died when they hadn't even wanted it, why couldn't he die? He wanted to for Christ's sake. Wasn't that enough?

Well, maybe it was too much. Maybe he should have acted a little more . . . normal about his death, rather than practically beg for it. But what else could he do, huh? The love of his life, as cliche as that sounded, was dead. The man he hated with a dangerous fervor was dead. The two most single important people in his life had ceased to exist. What did he have to live for? Why was he still living?

He fought to crack one I open, but it hurt too much. Still, he wanted to see where he was, so he forced it open.

He was in almost complete darkness. He could see a small shaft of light pouring into the room from a crack beneath the door. Beyond that, all was pretty much black. He closed his eye again and tried to remember something. Anything. He couldn't. All he could recall was . . . dying. At least he'd thought he was dead.

He'd thought he had bled his life away at the very least. He'd been happy. It was over. He'd finally gotten the answers to all the questions he'd had. So then how come his nightmare still hadn't ended? Or had it? Maybe he was awake for the first time and this was what life was supposed to be like outside of the dream.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly. They were getting too deep. They were giving him a headache. He needed to rest.

A few hours later, both his eyes were open and he found himself staring up into the face of a redhead. She was peering down at him, her blue eyes questioning.

Spike glared up at her.

She grinned and held up both hands, moving away from him.

"Whoa there tiger." She said, her voice amused. "Lower those hackles and calm down. I don't bite. Well, I don't bite men anyway."

Spike caught the underlying meaning to her words. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, I'm a lesbian. Think what you want, but you have me to thank. You'd be a bit dead right now, if it hadn't been for me."

Hadn't that been the goddamned point?

"Hey, don't you give me that look. I know you think you wanted to die, but believe me, you don't. Okay? You don't. 'Cause I've seen death, and from my end, it was definitely not pretty."

She stood up and stretched before leaning over him and tweaking his nose.

"You just hang out here, okay? I'll be back with some food for you. I'll probably have to hook it to an iv though, or somethin'. I don't think you can chew, or move much for that matter."

She shook her head and stared down at him. "Why oh why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" She asked out loud. "You look like trouble."

But she left anyway, and Spike watched her go, rather confused. He was still alive and she knew exactly what his agenda had been. She knew what he was thinking, how he felt . . . She seemed to know far better than he what he had been getting himself into and had gone to great lengths to prevent it.

Hmm. Interesting. What exactly was her angle in all this? And just why did Spike care? He wasn't going to be around long enough to care. He had all the faith in the world that he was going to die and die soon. So what was the point of trying to figure out women right then and there? It was no good, that's what it was.

He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him, and at the same time he wished for death as well. He thought that maybe if God was feeling generous, he'd get at least one of those. Maybe two.

Good luck, Space Cowboy

~*~

A/N: okay, so what did you think? Good, bad, ugly? I must know!!! Demanding, aren't I? Anyway, I'm finished with the second part of this (I think ^^;), so leave reviews, tell me what you though, and hopefully I'll update soon. BTW, the poem at the beginning of the fic is another of my originals. Well, to all of my faithful readers and reviewers, love ya! And, heck, to my new readers and reviewers (I hope ::cough, pleasereview, cough::), love ya too! Ja 4 now. ^^