13. excessive chainDisclaimer:
Cowboy Bebop owns me, but not the other way around.Notes:
This is a companion piece to Looking
He is staring at the ceiling, but that’s not what he wants to see. He knows if he just stares long enough, the world will fade away. He’ll fall into the slip, and he can close his real eye and see where he wants to be. See her in a fancy hotel room bought with somebody else’s money, blonde hair splayed over the pillow and her laughing.
But that’s not what he’s seeing. His mind is hung up; he cannot fall like he wants. Faye is distracting, yes, but that’s just an excuse. Well, it approaches the real reason, but it’s still an excuse.
Spike is too busy thinking, not seeing today. The heat makes him think, makes him hunt for the faintest respite, ties him back to where he is. Faye makes him think, damp fabric of her clothes clinging even more than usual. He can hear the clank far off of Jet trying to fix the cooling system, Ed singing some pretty nonsense, a bark every so often. All of it holds him back, keeps him from falling. So he cannot choose but think.
His loyalty always was his greatest curse. He is still bound to Julia, to Vicious, to the completion of their story. But he is bound to Jet, to Ed, to VT, and, as it almost pains him to admit, he is bound to Faye. He is chained, and chained, and chained again, caught in a net of his own creation.
And when he pulls, it only gets tighter. The better part of him wants to cut and run, to find Julia at all costs. But he can’t do that; he can’t leave Jet and Faye. Churning, dark thoughts about Faye whisper in and kiss his mind, the kind of thoughts she’d slap him and love him for having. But he can’t do that; he can’t betray Julia.
All he has is that place, the world behind his false eye, the past bottled up. Nothing binds him there; he comes and leaves as he pleases.
He gets up, so lost in thought that he doesn’t even notice when he touches Faye. If he can’t see, he’ll sleep. It’s the next best thing.