On the Bebop
Jun. 24th, 2006 03:02 pmIt's been a long fucking night: first night in almost two years except for one he hasn't been with Beth. Even the night he sat up at Elaine's bedside, she stayed there with him. It was the one night Ed was sick that they were apart. That whole two years, and he thought for sure they'd get to stay together... at least until she got bored with him and went on her way.
Damn. Can't take a single goddamn thing for granted and even though he knows he tried to treat every day like a damn blessing, like a honeymoon, he fell short of that mark by a long shot. There's no way he should have let Beth open that door by herself. But... what the hell was he supposed to do: go in and pee with her? She'd have stood for that for about as long as he'd have stood for that. It's just that after that weird shit when they went from the casino on Outpost 12 right to the church in Cooksfield, he figured that was it: the only trick the door or the Landlord or fate or whoever was going to play on them.
This sucks. After getting Jet back from Doc's, settled onto the couch in the Bebop's main cabin, first thing he did was try the pantry door. Then the airlock door to the hangar, then the door to the Swordfish: all those doors brought him and Beth back to the bar before. It's just none of them are doing it now and he's not sure if this is the universe's way of telling him he's had enough good luck and it's time to go back to the way things used to be, or some cosmic joke at his expense. Whatever it is, he hopes like fuck that Beth's okay, that Junior's okay. The worst feeling in the world is not knowing where the hell she is or if he'll ever see her again.
Beth, I didn't dream you. My imagination's not that good.
In the meantime, there isn't a hell of a lot left to do but go through the motions. Last time he and Beth were here they did laundry and, as he moves restlessly in his bed, it breaks his heart that there's no lingering scent of her here.
Not even an echo.
He can't stay in this bed without her another minute. He dresses, but before he heads back out to the main cabin, he takes a look in his closet. His coat's hanging there just like always: no bullet holes, no blood stains. Hell, he even calls Faye to tell her to get her ass back to the ship, but she hangs up on him. That figures. It's just... shit's about to go down, and it isn't going to be fun or pleasant for any of them.
Fuck this. Time to go check on Jet. No door's opening onto anything except where it's supposed to, and that... well, it's kind of the biggest tragedy he can imagine right now. Toughen the fuck up. A long time ago Beth asked him if he couldn't get back to the bar, would he want to remember her and what they had. It was a tough question then and it's even tougher now. His answer now, like then, is still yes, but the reality of it is a hell of a lot more heartbreaking than he ever could have imagined.
Mars looks... ominous and deadly to him, no longer a playground, a tourist attraction. The Bebop's forward cabin windows provide a round and curious view of the place anyway; Jet grunts in his sleep and then wakes.
Still, Spike can't tear his eyes away from the window and the planet below. Last time they were here, he and Beth visited his dad in that city right down there and for a desperate moment he considers going back, asking his father if he remembers he had a grandchild on the way. But that's a sucker's move and he's no goddamn sucker. It would be a setup waiting to happen; his past on Mars is no secret to anyone in the Syndicate. They'll have that place staked out, just like he's sure they're tracking the Bebop.
What he ought to do is get his ass to Tharsis. At least that way, this ship won't be a target; it's not like Jet's in any damn position to handle that. Finally, though, he turns to Jet. "You still in pain?"
"Have you heard this story?" Jet's moving toward him, a crutch under one arm. That bullet wound has to be pretty damn bad, putting his partner down for the count like this.
Do you remember Beth, Jet? I can't stop thinking about her. "Huh?"
Jet's got to be hurting. He's also got to be doing his bait-and-switch thing, because he launches into his story. "A man injures his leg during a hunt. He's in the middle of the Savannah. No means to treat the wound. The leg rots, and death approaches. Last minute, he's picked up by an airplane. He looks down and sees a land of pure white below him, glistening in the light. It's the summit of a snow-capped mountain. The mountain is Kilimanjaro. As he gazes down, he feels the life flowing out of him and he thinks that's where I was headed."
The words just kind of wash over Spike: it's a shit story with a shit ending and he knows it, and Jet knows it, and if Beth was here she'd know it. "And?"
"I hate stories like that. Men only think about the past right before their death, as if they were searching frantically for proof that they were really alive. Turn back. When you and I first met, you told me something. You said that you had died once, that you had seen death. Why can't you just let it go? Forget the past."
Because right now, the past is all I have. Without Beth, there's no reason to keep up this facade, this lie. I had her and we had a real life together. We were partners, equals and hell yeah it was like a fairy tale. Only damn time in my life things felt fair or lucky. "There was a woman. First time I found someone that was truly alive. At least that's what I thought. She was... the part of me I'd lost somewhere along the way, the part that was missing, that I'd been longing for."
Eyes closed, he remembers: Europa with Beth. Edge of the World, the place was called. Nothing but them and the birds and the clouds above the jungle, above the California River: fuck yeah, she completes him. Fuck yeah, she makes him whole, keeps him going.
And then Shin's words from last night rattle in his brain: you're a target now too. So's Julia.
Julia. He loved her too, once upon a time.
"She's back."
Jet, his breathing still heavy, his movements awkward and labored, scratches his head. "Huh? Who?"
Forget it: Spike can't even begin to explain. If he tells Jet about Beth but Jet doesn't remember... hell, he doesn't want it all to have been a dream. He's not going to give fate that opportunity. Fuck you, fate: you don't get to take those two years away from me. I'll do what I have to do, but don't you think for a fucking minute I'm not doing it to get back to Beth. Standing, finally turning away from the window, he heads to his workshop without saying a word. No matter whether he's dreaming or awake, there's still shit that needs to get done.
Damn. Can't take a single goddamn thing for granted and even though he knows he tried to treat every day like a damn blessing, like a honeymoon, he fell short of that mark by a long shot. There's no way he should have let Beth open that door by herself. But... what the hell was he supposed to do: go in and pee with her? She'd have stood for that for about as long as he'd have stood for that. It's just that after that weird shit when they went from the casino on Outpost 12 right to the church in Cooksfield, he figured that was it: the only trick the door or the Landlord or fate or whoever was going to play on them.
This sucks. After getting Jet back from Doc's, settled onto the couch in the Bebop's main cabin, first thing he did was try the pantry door. Then the airlock door to the hangar, then the door to the Swordfish: all those doors brought him and Beth back to the bar before. It's just none of them are doing it now and he's not sure if this is the universe's way of telling him he's had enough good luck and it's time to go back to the way things used to be, or some cosmic joke at his expense. Whatever it is, he hopes like fuck that Beth's okay, that Junior's okay. The worst feeling in the world is not knowing where the hell she is or if he'll ever see her again.
Beth, I didn't dream you. My imagination's not that good.
In the meantime, there isn't a hell of a lot left to do but go through the motions. Last time he and Beth were here they did laundry and, as he moves restlessly in his bed, it breaks his heart that there's no lingering scent of her here.
Not even an echo.
He can't stay in this bed without her another minute. He dresses, but before he heads back out to the main cabin, he takes a look in his closet. His coat's hanging there just like always: no bullet holes, no blood stains. Hell, he even calls Faye to tell her to get her ass back to the ship, but she hangs up on him. That figures. It's just... shit's about to go down, and it isn't going to be fun or pleasant for any of them.
Fuck this. Time to go check on Jet. No door's opening onto anything except where it's supposed to, and that... well, it's kind of the biggest tragedy he can imagine right now. Toughen the fuck up. A long time ago Beth asked him if he couldn't get back to the bar, would he want to remember her and what they had. It was a tough question then and it's even tougher now. His answer now, like then, is still yes, but the reality of it is a hell of a lot more heartbreaking than he ever could have imagined.
Mars looks... ominous and deadly to him, no longer a playground, a tourist attraction. The Bebop's forward cabin windows provide a round and curious view of the place anyway; Jet grunts in his sleep and then wakes.
Still, Spike can't tear his eyes away from the window and the planet below. Last time they were here, he and Beth visited his dad in that city right down there and for a desperate moment he considers going back, asking his father if he remembers he had a grandchild on the way. But that's a sucker's move and he's no goddamn sucker. It would be a setup waiting to happen; his past on Mars is no secret to anyone in the Syndicate. They'll have that place staked out, just like he's sure they're tracking the Bebop.
What he ought to do is get his ass to Tharsis. At least that way, this ship won't be a target; it's not like Jet's in any damn position to handle that. Finally, though, he turns to Jet. "You still in pain?"
"Have you heard this story?" Jet's moving toward him, a crutch under one arm. That bullet wound has to be pretty damn bad, putting his partner down for the count like this.
Do you remember Beth, Jet? I can't stop thinking about her. "Huh?"
Jet's got to be hurting. He's also got to be doing his bait-and-switch thing, because he launches into his story. "A man injures his leg during a hunt. He's in the middle of the Savannah. No means to treat the wound. The leg rots, and death approaches. Last minute, he's picked up by an airplane. He looks down and sees a land of pure white below him, glistening in the light. It's the summit of a snow-capped mountain. The mountain is Kilimanjaro. As he gazes down, he feels the life flowing out of him and he thinks that's where I was headed."
The words just kind of wash over Spike: it's a shit story with a shit ending and he knows it, and Jet knows it, and if Beth was here she'd know it. "And?"
"I hate stories like that. Men only think about the past right before their death, as if they were searching frantically for proof that they were really alive. Turn back. When you and I first met, you told me something. You said that you had died once, that you had seen death. Why can't you just let it go? Forget the past."
Because right now, the past is all I have. Without Beth, there's no reason to keep up this facade, this lie. I had her and we had a real life together. We were partners, equals and hell yeah it was like a fairy tale. Only damn time in my life things felt fair or lucky. "There was a woman. First time I found someone that was truly alive. At least that's what I thought. She was... the part of me I'd lost somewhere along the way, the part that was missing, that I'd been longing for."
Eyes closed, he remembers: Europa with Beth. Edge of the World, the place was called. Nothing but them and the birds and the clouds above the jungle, above the California River: fuck yeah, she completes him. Fuck yeah, she makes him whole, keeps him going.
And then Shin's words from last night rattle in his brain: you're a target now too. So's Julia.
Julia. He loved her too, once upon a time.
"She's back."
Jet, his breathing still heavy, his movements awkward and labored, scratches his head. "Huh? Who?"
Forget it: Spike can't even begin to explain. If he tells Jet about Beth but Jet doesn't remember... hell, he doesn't want it all to have been a dream. He's not going to give fate that opportunity. Fuck you, fate: you don't get to take those two years away from me. I'll do what I have to do, but don't you think for a fucking minute I'm not doing it to get back to Beth. Standing, finally turning away from the window, he heads to his workshop without saying a word. No matter whether he's dreaming or awake, there's still shit that needs to get done.