Still Sleeping

 

 

By: Rachel*

 

 

Rated: PG-13

 

 

Gender: Romance/Drama

 

 

E-mail: [email protected]

 

 

Web Address: www.Spike-Faye-Shrine.cjb.net

 

 

+ Takes place during the episode: Brain Scratch. I watched it and noticed how tender and kind Spike was being with Faye…here’s my thought on what could have been happening while they were showing other parts with Ed and Jet… ENJOY! (Don’t forget to R+R) +

 

 

+ I do not own Cowboy Bebop +

 

 

            He fell to his knees, the dust and grime around him scattered making a hazed cloud around his broad frame. His gun fell next, tapping on its sides before falling silent.

 

 

            His throat ran dry, he was gasping for breath. His fists dug into the cracked, concrete floor. His fingertips were so raw they began to bleed. His eyes stung, were they tears, or was it just the dust? “I’m not crying.” His deep, calming voice had a harsh gutturalness to it. He took another quick intake of breath, and turned gazing upon the limp body just behind him.

 

 

            Scratch, it was their entire fault. For the suicides, the carnage, the false hope, and for Faye... There she laid; mute, stiff, and cold. He hadn’t dared check to see if she was breathing.

 

 

            He closed his dulled eyes, and gritted his teeth. He needed to know if she was really gone. His chest was aching, why?

 

 

            She hadn’t left his mind, from the second he knew she was in trouble…yet was he too late, had he failed to save her this time, was Faye really…dead? No, no she couldn’t be, not her.

 

 

            Faye, with her violet locks, and those green eyes…those eyes that burned into his brain, those eyes that drove him to the point of insanity. She was the reason he couldn’t sleep at night. She was the sole person that he was now living for. Sure, Julia would always be a part of his heart, but her cruelty was too much to bear anymore.

 

 

            Julia was the constant reminder of why he hated Vicious. She had used Spike and Vicious as well. He remembered how uptight Faye had gotten, when he first mentioned anything about her. She distanced herself, and became tense when she was anywhere near him. Faye however, returned her spirited self not soon after.

 

 

            To see her looking like that though…her body was sprawled out, and her hair was covering her face, her mouth slightly parted… Spike turned his head away and pounded his right fist into the ground. Damn them for hurting her, for causing Faye such pain. He peered around the room, mangled, and falling apart, the sickening part— that there were more bodies, laying about like Faye was, haphazardly scattered about the room. Spike made an estimated guess of at least twenty bodies.

 

 

            The man called it sleeping to death. Spike could feel himself growing sick to his stomach; the smell in the room was enough to make you pass out, but to stoop as low as to… “Damn it.” Spike pushed himself forward so he could lie on the filth-covered ground. His hand fell on top of Faye’s. His head jolted upright. It was warm.

 

           

            Spike’s breath caught in the back of his throat and he shook Faye’s arm lightly. He chanted her name repetitively, growing louder with every time he said it. His two-toned eyes glazed over with tears. “Wake up.” He uttered. Spike stumbled to his feet and touched her cheek. He bent down and placed his ear against her lips.

 

 

            He sighed, she was still breathing. There was hope. Spike felt dizzy and fell backwards. He landed on an old, broken piece of wood. As long as she was alive, Spike was happy.

 

           

            His nerves were shot, his heart could have been ripped from his chest and he wouldn’t have known from the amount pain he was feeling. Fumbling through his coat pockets, he found his salvation, his cigarettes. They’d be the death of him— if he didn’t quit. His hands trembled; he took a deep breath and looked down at Faye again. His heart seemed to skip a beat; his cigarette fell into his lap. She was his sleeping beauty. Spike dropped his lighter, after his eyes fell onto her pale lips. “Just one kiss,” he whispered. “that’s all I ask, would you hate me for it?”

 

 

            Spike’s lips curved into an opulent smile. Pivoting on the front halves of his feet he bent down, his gaze not leaving her face. Spike’s fingers stretched out and brushed away her silky hair from her face. Her head was crocket; he straightened it and drew his face closer. “Just one kiss, is all I’ll ever ask from you.” He let his lips brush against hers. His heart pounded in his chest. What was this feeling, this desire, was it love?

 

 

            He pulled away and bit down on his lower lip. Taking hold of his lighter, Spike placed his cigarette back in his mouth. Closing his eyes he sparked up his cigarette and took an inhaled breath.

 

 

            She stirred, and her green eyes opened. Spike’s body tensed and he looked down, his eyes wide. “Where am I?” Faye voiced, yawning. She turned around. Spike swallowed the large lump that formed in his throat as he met her green orbs. “…Oh, it’s you.” She mused, wrinkling her nose together.

 

 

            Spike’s eyes widened a little more. He bowed his head, his brown eyes shut quickly, hiding his emotions. He smiled, and let a small chuckle escape his lips. “Let’s go home.” He sighed.

 

 

            Faye nodded her head. Frowning, she turned away and brought her hands to her lips. Why, were they so warm?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just one kiss, that’s all I’ll ever ask of you… I love you.