Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Contemplations ❯ Contemplations ( Chapter 1 )

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"It's sad, isn't it, that something fake can make you cry."
"Huh?"
"I said ‘It's sad, isn't it, that something fake can make you cry.'"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't get it, huh Faye? This life is tough. When cartoons make you cry, you have to
rethink everything that's ever made you sad."
"I think it's the death part, Spike. Death is horrible, even if is false."
"Yeah, but still. . .it's fake. You know the next time they air the show they'll be there
again."
"That's a pessimistic view of things, isn't it?"
"No, it's just the truth."

I think about that conversation a lot. He was profoundly right as much as I hate to admit
it. If a character dies, they'll be there next time the show airs. That's how I like to think about his death.
Someday, I hope, when they play our show again, he'll be there and I'll see his face again.
When and if they ever do this for me, I'll take him in my arms and say I'm sorry for
everything bitchy that I've ever done. I'll hold him close and tell him whatever he did is fine with me. He doesn't need t
cover anything up and he doesn't need to lie. Somehow, I think he knew I wouldn't mind his past, but he just hid it
anyway.
I'd tell him not to worry about getting back at Vicious, he'd get his eventually, and that I
never wanted to see him sprawled out at the bottom of a staircase drawing his dying breaths ever again. Even if
Julia was dead, he still had us, me, Jet, Ed and Ein. We still needed him. He shouldn't make us sad again. We love
him either way. He just never opened up.
About him never having a future. . . He had one, if he would just get off his lazy ass and
scratch below the surface a bit. He would move on eventually. Everyone does. He would find a new love and pine
after her every waking moment, and she wouldn't be half as tragic as Julia was.
And If I ever got the chance again, I'd shoot him before he went to fight Vicious. Like he
said, there's nothing you can do for a dead woman. But there's even less you can do for a dead
man. I'd just give him a bullet to the knee and he could stay with us.
But then again. . . it would break his heart. He loved Julia, I knew that, and he would have
had a happy life with her if Vicious' men hadn't shot her down. I think he knew he would die
when he went to fight Vicious. He knew it, but somehow, it didn't matter to him. I commend him
for his bravery. I would have gone chicken shit and ran away. But no, he had to be a hero and die.
But I suppose he's with Julia now, which means that he's happy. The tears I cried that day were
more out of happiness for finding his love again than anything else.
And as I think about it, there was more than one meaning to what he said. He couldn't
help Julia, but if I went and got myself killed, there was nothing he could do for me. But now
there's nothing I can do for him. If he's listening to me, I have one thing to say to him.
Bang.