Cowboy Bebop is copyrighted 1997-2016 by Sunrise and its affiliates, and I make no attempts to claim ownership, license, or legal right to it or its derivative works at any time. Please support the anime and manga by buying the series on DVD, or watching it from legal streaming sites. This fan fiction is in no way official, and is for nonprofit enjoyment only. Thank you.
SESSION I— WHERE I BELONG
She cried for him after the last gunshot rang out. True, she had never been good with expressing her feelings with words, but even stupid men like him had to see it in her eyes, her voice, the way she carried the gun. But either he didn’t see it because he really was that stupid, or he just didn’t care.
She couldn’t bear to think it was the latter. She told herself it was the blonde clouding his mind, his sense of reason. She knew the woman was dead—she’d stood right outside in the hallway when the two men were discussing it, after all. Death, the specter of it, of losing those that you care about? She understood that could drive a person to temporary insanity with a side of idiocy, and that very thing was why she picked up her comm and dialed the number Julia had given her that day they met. Before Julia died, Faye had saved her life. She didn’t know why at the time, she didn’t know why now. But she had, and in return, parked by the seaside the day Faye saved Julia, the blonde offered her a number.
“If you ever need anything, call this number. A. . . friend of mine will help you, though it’s a one time deal, and you shouldn’t ask me for the moon.” Julia had said that day.
Nodding, Faye had taken the card. She’d kept it, and pondered using the card to ask for money towards her debt. Truth be told, she’d half-thought the card was a ruse, and that the number written on it was a fake, maybe the telephone number for a laundromat. But she kept the card anyway.
Now Jet’s leg was shot. The Bebop was shot. Her ship was wrecked.
Faye stood there in the hallway, holding the gun, her ears ringing as the feelings coalesced, like drops of water pooling together at the bottom of a shower. It’s funny how confused she’d felt that day. Like she was two people who didn’t belong anywhere—one was in the past, living an ordinary life, and the other was here, answering to no one, living by her own rules. Her feelings had started going crazy that day, and at first she’d thought it was because she could recapture her past, but now as she listened to the connection music on her comm, she realized it hadn’t been her past that was stirring up her feelings. She’d bumped into Spike one day, rushing from the shower. And when she had she’d remembered all the little moments they’d had together. How she tried to ignore it all and just live a carefree life, paying no attention to the ache in her chest.
The day she bumped into Spike in only her bathrobe the ache became a sharp need, and his eyes, even angry as they were, struck her as so beautiful she couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“I’m sorry,” she’d said, when she realized that her cheeks were heating up. “I’ve got to go.” Because standing next to you like this makes me feel like just one person, Spike, and that scares me.
She didn’t say the rest.
Now she’d wished she had. She remembered the nun from Ed’s orphanage.
“In this world, people must cherish whatever ties they have,” the woman said.
A man picked up on the other end of the line.
“Yes? How can I help you?”
“Julia gave me this number. She said you’d help me. I need a fast ship. Right now. It’s an emergency, life or death.”
“Of course. You understand this number, my services are a one time deal yes?” The man spoke as if he’d known her, knew to expect this day. It almost seemed Faustian.
“Yeah, got it, whatever.”
Her feelings after regaining her memories, only to realize she’d lost everything? She’d felt lost, nearly catatonic.
“Look into my eyes Faye,” Spike had said.
That was the moment all her crazy feelings became a single sharp truth. She could still smell him in the hallway, cigarettes, cheap whiskey, and underneath it? His own bodily scent, the own that she’d grown so used to. But it was those mismatched eyes that got her in the end. He’d leaned in close enough to kiss her, and she suddenly wished he would.
Now he was going to go and die. And she would be left alone with her new feelings, and no one to belong to.
Not this time.
“Belonging is the very best thing there is,” she whispered, just as the ship she requested descended to hover over the Bebop’s magnetic deck.
She hopped in the cockpit of her new ship, which she decided to name Payara, a fish she remembered from a documentary she’d watched in her old life. The payara was capable of taking on and devouring piranhas, and she hoped the name would lend her luck.
Five minutes later she was streaking away, searching for Spike’s transponder signal on her radar.