Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Fantaisie Sign ❯ Dead I Am The Sky, Watching Angels Cry ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

DISCLAIMER: Cowboy Bebop and its characters are owned by the anime companies that made them, and not by me.

Author's Note: This fanfic is in the first-person style, with the POV being Edward's for all but a few chapters (and when the POV is different, I won't switch mid-chapter, the whole chapter will be like that). I've never even attempted doing something like this before, so bear with me.

French Note: For the few (non-generic) French language bits in this fic, I'll be using Babelfish. So pardon my French. ^_^

---

I was so scared... not only for myself, but for Sylvan! What could they be doing to him and his mom in there... I had to know!

"Ed," Asada whispered into my ear. "I'll distract this guy, and you go past him inside."

"I can't believe it! Asada, no..." I thought, stunned that Asada would offer to help me like this. I couldn't let her put herself in danger. "No... there has to be another way..."

"Ladies, I'm not going to tell you again," the man said sternly. "Get in your car and get the hell outta here!"

Asada and I quickly walked away from the Fantaisie Sign, toward Asada's car. Just before we got there, I stopped and turned to her.


"I'll find a way, Asada..." I told her. "Please, just go... I promise I'll be alright."

"Ed, no," Asada said. "There's no way I'm letting you-"

"Edward is really good at this sort of thing.... Ed's done it tons of times on Ed's bounty hunter adventures!" I said, sincerely hoping she'd believe me. "Asada, Ed will be fine..."

"But if I leave, you won't have a ride, Ed," Asada replied.

"Stay here then, in the car," I told her. "Ed will find a way in...."

"Dammit, Ed..." Asada cursed quietly, an angry look on her face. "If you're not back to this car in ten minutes..."


"Okey dokey thank you!" I said quickly, running from the car and ducking into one of the side alleys next to the Fantaisie Sign. "There's gotta be some sort of back way in, right? Ed will just..."

But before I could begin searching the side of the restaurant for alternate entrances, Asada's car horn began sounding repeatedly. The man standing by the door cursed loudly and stomped over to Asada's car. I gasped, terrified for my new friend as the large man began walking toward her car.

"Ed, now's your chance!" Asada yelled, a smile on her face.

"Asada, I-"

"I'll be fine! You just get your butt in there!" Asada yelled. After a split-second of thought, I seized the opportunity, dashing toward the front door of the Fantaisie Sign just as the large man realized he'd been tricked. But by then, it was too late. I got to the front door seconds before him and quickly ducked inside, hiding behind the large podium next to the front door as the man stormed into the restaurant.

"Where are you?" the man shouted, angrily looking from side to side. "I know you're in here, you little-"

I trembled behind the podium as the man continued looking around, angrily swearing as he checked under the tables. The lights in the restaurant were completely dimmed, and the light from the moon cast eerie shadows inside the once lively restaurant. A faint light was coming from the back of the restaurant, from the door next to the stage. I remembered immediately that the door led to the restaurant's offices... to Sylvan and his mother. My heart sunk again, and not only that, but the man searching for me was getting closer and closer by the second. He neared the podium and started to look behind it, but then turned around so that his back was even with the podium. If I stepped out and he turned around, he'd be eye-to-eye with me.

"Wait a minute..." I thought, my eyes lighting up slightly. "Why am I afraid? I'm Radical Edward, world-famous bounty huntress..."

And then I remembered a lesson from my father, given to me about two years ago. A devious grin crossed my face.

---

"Francoise," my father said, looking down at me. We were standing outside his trailer, and his tone indicated that he was about to tell me something important, so I listened intently.

"Is this about the birds and the bees?" I asked, smiling.


"I thought those bounty hunters musta taught you about that," he said. "They didn't?"

"No way, they didn't teach Ed that, silly!" I said.

"Uh, well, I'll tell you about that some other time," my father said, smiling and rubbing the back of his head. "No, no, what I'm about to tell you is even more important than learning about the birds and the bees. I'm going to teach you how to kick some ass."

"You already taught Ed that a buncha times," I said with a slight giggle.

"Well, put all that stuff in the back of your head for now, Francoise," my dad said. "Today we're gonna learn about pressure points. Now, you mighta heard from a few other people about pressure points, but the only one you really need to know about is this one."

My dad removed his shirt and turned around, reaching over his shoulder and pointing to his lower back as best as he could.

"There's one spot, right there in the small of the back, that if you hit it juuuuuuust right, you can paralyze a guy for some time or knock him unconscious. It's a couple centimeters just left of center, and a few inches above my waist. It's riiiiiiiiight... riiiiiiiight.... darn, I need a marker or something."

I ran inside and retrieved a black ink marker from the table, then went back out and handed it to my dad. He took the marker and gently reached behind his back, making a tiny dot.

"I'm pretty sure that's it," he said. "Francoise, just this once, I want you to poke that pressure point right there as hard as you can."

"But.... Ed doesn't want to give you an owie, daddy!" I shouted, obviously having some reservations about knocking my own dad out.

"Ah, don't worry about it, it wears off pretty quick," he said. "Just do it, Francoise."

"Edward can't..." I said sadly. "Ed does not want to hurt father-person..."

"I understand," he said, his tone softening. "Francoise, you're a gentle person, and I know you don't like fighting. But I can guarantee you this move will come in handy some day."

"Ed doesn't think so...." I said. "Edward hopes she never has to hurt anyone..."

---

I would eventually betray that creed... well, I guess engaging in sparring matches with my dad wasn't really betraying it, even if I did use that move one time... it only knocked him out for three minutes, but I took it pretty hard and apologized profusely to him when he woke up. But he was right, the move would come in handy. Seizing my second golden opportunity of the last five minutes, I lunged forward and poked the man right in the spot my dad had taught me two years earlier. With a gasp of surprise, the man fell over, unconscious. I gasped and brought my hands up to my face.

"Edward... knocked him out?" I said in surprise. "That was cool..."

Just then, the door to the restaurant opened again. It was Asada, tire iron in hand.

"Don't worry, Ed, I'm-"

I quickly leaped up and clamped my hand over her mouth, causing her to emit a muffled shriek before realizing it was me and calming down. I slid my hand away from her mouth, and she smiled, a look of relief coming over her face.

"Ed, you're okay!" she whispered, dropping the tire iron she was carrying and embracing me tightly. "But... how'd you knock out that guy?"

"Edward said she'd be okay!" I whispered. "I kicked his butt!"

"Thank God you're alright," she said. "Well, did you find anything?"

"They're back there," I said quietly, pointing toward the door at the back of the room. "See the light?

Asada nodded.


"The stage up there probably leads to the back of the restaurant," I said. "Hopefully there aren't any bad men over there..."

"What do we do about this guy?" Asada said, pointing to the man whom I'd just knocked out.

"Leave him here," I said. "Edward doesn't think he'll be waking up for a while..."

"What if he does?" Asada asked worriedly. "We should probably tie him up or something."

I nodded, and Asada and I walked over to one of the tables. We grabbed a tablecloth, ripped it into two pieces, and used the pieces of tablecloth to bind the man's arms and legs. Then, we shoved him under the podium and began walking toward the stage.

"I'll go first," I said, climbing up onto the stage. "Ed will peek under this curtain and see if there are any bad men out here."

"Shouldn't you take this?" Asada said, holding the tire iron she had carried into the restaurant up to me. I shook my head and smiled.


"Edward doesn't need it, and besides, Edward probably wouldn't be able to use it anyway... Ed is a bit squeamish," I admitted.

"You're pretty tough on your own anyway," Asada said, grinning. "Good luck, Ed."

I crawled up to the curtain and, ever so slowly, poked my head under. I looked around, and immediately heard voices coming from a hallway to my right.

"Monsieur Frémont, what should we do with ze kid?" asked one of the voices.

"We will get to that later," came the reply, a voice whom I'd immediately recognized as the mean man from yesterday, the leader of the French syndicate, Cecelle Frémont. If only Faye-Faye could be here... she'd go crazy... "If Miss Mazarin decides not to cooperate, that is."

I gasped.

"Sylvan and his mom are still alive!" I thought immediately, with a great deal of relief. It was immediately overtaken by a crushing sense of fear. "But... those mean men are hurting them..."

I crawled out from the curtain and turned my head toward Asada.

"See anything?" she whispered.


"No, but Ed heard something..." I replied quietly. "The bad men ARE here... and they might be hurting Sylvan!"

"That's terrible," Asada said. "Your poor friend..."


Asada lifted herself up onto the stage and brandished her tire iron fiercely.

"Asada, no..." I said. "We have to be careful... we have to find Sylvan and help him and his mom, and-"


"Then let's go," Asada said, rolling herself under the stage curtain. Seeing no alternative, I followed her, and soon, we were both in the back of the restaurant. I could hear the voices of Frémont and his henchmen very clearly, and a new wave of panic swept over me.

"The bad men are that way..." I said, pointing to the right. "But there's a hallway to the left... they might have Sylvan there!"

"Should we split up?" Asada asked.

"No, let's stay together..." I said quietly. "Strength in numbers... let's go to the left first."

We slowly began creeping toward the left hallway, looking around in all directions for any of Frémont's henchmen. Finally, I peeked around the corner and peered into the corridor, ready for anything.

"Ed...." Asada whispered. "Anything?"

At the very end of the hallway was a single henchman, standing in front of a door. I quickly pulled back my head so that he wouldn't see me.


"Oh, oh, oh, I hope he didn't see Edward..." I thought, sweat pouring down my face. Suddenly, I heard a grunt from the back of the hallway, and rapid footsteps. "He saw me... he saw me... he saw me!"

"Ed, quiet!" Asada whispered sharply, "Oh crap..."

The man ran out of the hallway, and I immediately leapt forward with a swift kick to his stomach, causing him to groan and double over. I recoiled in shock, but Asada was completely ready to land the finishing blow, cracking the man on the back of the head with her tire iron and knocking him out. Voices began coming again from the right hallway.

"What ze hell was that?"

"I don't know, was it ze kid escaping?"

"Go check it out," Frémont said sternly. "If it is, Miss Mazarin will suffer dearly..."

I gasped. Asada began pulling me down the left hallway.


"Ed, c'mon!" Asada said urgently. "The door's clear! We can save your boyfriend now!"

"But what about Sylvan's mom?" I protested as Asada pulled me towards the door, completely ignoring the boyfriend remark. Asada quickly opened the door and pulled us both inside, shutting it behind her.

"We can help her out later," Asada said. "Hey, this room's pretty dark..."

Before I could reply, a weak groaning noise reached my ears. I quickly flipped on the light switch by the door, and gasped as I saw the unconscious Sylvan lying on the floor, his hands bound behind his back.

"Sylvan!" I shouted frantically, running over to him and untying his bonds. "Are you alright? Sylvan..."

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He groaned again and rubbed his head, blinking at me as I slowly lifted him into a sitting position.

"Ed....ward.... is that.... you?" Sylvan asked, looking into my eyes.

"Oh, Sylvan, I'm so glad you're okay..."

Another wave of relief swept over me, adding to the emotional roller-coaster of the past twenty minutes. I smiled happily at him, and he smiled back at me.


"Ed, you shouldn't be here..." he said seriously. "Frémont came back..."

"Gee, we sure didn't know that, Einstein," Asada said sarcastically. I frowned at her.

"Asada, Sylvan's been through a lot..." I said, slightly embarrassed about my new friend's sarcasm. "Sylvan-"

"I'm fine, Ed," he said, standing up. "All they did was knock me out... and they took my gun."

"You have a gun?" Asada said, surprised. "Well, had a gun."

"Ed, is my mom okay?" Sylvan asked me in a concerned tone. "Is she-"


"She's fine for now, but we'd better hurry," I said. "The mean men are-"

"Incoming!" Asada shouted right as two of Frémont's henchmen burst through the door. Sylvan and I immediately turned and got into fighting stances, ready to take the two henchmen on.

"Ed, these guys are dangerous!" Sylvan shouted. "You can't-"


"It's three-on-two," I said, smiling. "Edward likes those odds!"

However, I gasped as both men suddenly reached for their waists, most likely for guns. Asada responded by swatting one of the men across the face with her tire iron, causing him to scream out in pain and clutch his nose, which began bleeding profusely. I ran at the stunned henchman and headbutted him in the chest, causing him to fly back and slam into the nearby wall. The other man got his gun out, but barely had time to blink before Sylvan kicked it out of his hands, then spun around and kicked the man hard in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Bastard," Sylvan said, picking up the henchman's gun and pointing it at his head. "I'll show you to-"


"Sylvan, no!" I shouted, lowering the gun in Sylvan's hands. "Don't kill him..."

"But they... they're ruthless, Ed!" Sylvan replied.

"Ed's right," Asada said. "Just knock them out or something... the police can arrest them later!"

"I guess... I guess you're right," Sylvan said, lowering the gun. "Besides, we've gotta go help my mom!"

I smiled.

"Thank you, Sylvan," I said. "You did the right-"

Suddenly, a strong arm came around me from behind. One of the men, I couldn't tell which, had caught me in a headlock. He pulled me back, and Sylvan again lifted his gun.


"I wouldn't," the henchman said. "Unless you want to zee your beautiful friend's brains splattered!"

I growled.

"There's no way I'm gonna let you use Ed like that, you meanie!" I thought. Lifting up my left arm, I slammed my elbow into the man's stomach, knocking all the wind out of him. He doubled over, and I slipped from his grasp and ducked away. Before I could catch my breath, I heard a loud gunshot. The man let out a pained gasp, then collapsed to the ground. "Sylvan, no!"

Sylvan held the smoking gun in his hand, a look of concern on his face.

"Ed, I-"


"Sylvan didn't kill him," Asada said. "Look."


She pointed to the man's knee, where a large, smoking gunshot wound had just been formed. I looked back up to Sylvan.


"Ed, I didn't want to kill him," Sylvan said. "It was a crippling shot, not a fatal one."

I smiled and nodded at Sylvan.

"Spike-person shot people too," I said understandingly. "I was just a bit... not used to seeing it anymore, I guess... and you didn't kill him, so that's good!"

"Well, we kicked their butts," Asada said. "Let's go save your-"

But before Asada could finish, tall, trenchcoated Cecelle Frémont stepped out from around the corner, his long cape-like coat flowing around him.

"What ze hell is going on here?" he shouted, walking toward us and reaching toward the inside of his trenchcoat with his black-gloved hand.

"Where's my mom?" Sylvan shouted back, pointing his gun at Frémont's head. "You'd better tell me where she is right now!"

Frémont grinned, and began pulling something from his trenchcoat. When I saw what it was, my eyes widened in stunned surprise. It was a large, metallic object, and it glimmered, even in the weak lighting of the back rooms.

"What... is that?" Asada asked.

In Frémont's right hand was a large, crescent-shaped blade. It had no handle, and appeared to be about three feet from one tip of the crescent to the other. He continued walking toward us, the crescent blade giving him an even more menacing presence. Even Sylvan stepped back slightly.

"Sylvan, be careful," I said fearfully.

"Ed, gun vs. sword always comes out better for the person holding the gun," Sylvan said, and memories of the first time I'd been told of Vicious and Spike's alleged gun/sword battle immediately came to my mind. "Stay back!"

Cecelle continued to advance toward us, until he had reached the edge of the narrow hallway. That's when Sylvan fired, right at Frémont's head. I gasped and closed my eyes.

"That's it," I thought. "Sylvan killed him..."

But immediately after the gun fired, I heard a loud, plinking noise. I looked up and saw Cecelle standing unharmed, and I immediately began quivering in fear.

"The... hell?" Sylvan said, stunned. "How did you-"


Cecelle smiled and held up his crescent-blade. There's no way... he blocked it? No one has reflexes like that! How-

"Crescando is superior to any weapon," Cecelle said in a cold, calculating voice that sent shivers down my spine. "And any person."

With a flick of his wrist, the large blade came screaming toward us, spinning at impossible speed. It whizzed right between Sylvan and I, and then suddenly, I heard a loud, piercing scream from behind me. I gasped, immediately recognizing the scream as Asada's. I looked up to see the blade right back in Cecelle's hand.

"Damn," Cecelle said angrily. "It's so hard to throw this thing in the dark."

I turned back, toward Asada, and saw her kneeling on the ground, her hand over her left eye. Her glasses were on the ground, sliced in two near the screw that connects the left earpiece to the left lens. A stream of blood was dripping from behind her hand, and as she moved her, I could see a large gash right above her left eye, crossing her eyebrow. Tears were pouring from her eyes.

"It hurts..." she cried through racked sobs.

"Asada, I'm so sorry..." I said, hugging her in an attempt to alleviate some of her pain. She hugged me back with one arm, keeping her other hand over the wound.

"How dare you!" Sylvan shouted angrily. "She barely even hurt you, Frémont!"

Frémont laughed and charged at Sylvan, crescent blade in hand. Sylvan pointed his gun at him again, but was quickly caught off-guard by a slash from Frémont's blade. He leapt back, dropping the gun in his hands. Frémont laughed and picked up the gun, tossing it into the nearby room where Sylvan had been imprisoned earlier. I began to suggest that Sylvan run in and retrieve the gun, but I knew that doing that would leave him open for an attack from Fremont's blade. Just as Sylvan began to attack Fremont again, Frémont's fist slammed into the side of Sylvan's face, knocking him back hard against the wall. I screamed as Sylvan passed out from the collision and slumped against the wall next to the three unconscious henchmen, lifeless. My rage began to build.... He's hurting Ed's friends... Edward isn't going to take it anymore! This guy is toast!

"Pathetic," Frémont said. "Looks like I'll have to kill your mother and you."

"No!" I shouted, standing up and confronting Frémont. "Edward has had ENOUGH!"

Frémont's eyebrow lifted slightly, and I knew I'd surprised him. Breathing heavily, I continued my rant.

"You won't hurt Ed's friends anymore... Edward will-"

Suddenly, my world came crashing down. Frémont's left fist plowed into my stomach, and I could no longer breathe. I stumbled back, gasping for air.

"Are you quite through talking?" Fremont said in an annoyed tone. "Good."

He roughly picked up Asada and placed his large crescent-shaped blade to her throat. Her face was still soaked with tears, and the large gash above her eye continued to drip blood.

"Asada...." I said weakly, regaining some of my breath. "Don't...."

"Now, are you going to cooperate with me, or not?" Frémont asked. "Go in that office and wake Miss Mazarin up. I knocked her out after you pathetic kids did the same to my henchmen. Tell her to get out here if she wants her impotent son and his whimpering friends to live."

"I'm already here," came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around to see Sylvan's mother standing in the right-side hallway. "Please... I'll do anything you want, just... just let them go."

Frémont threw the sobbing Asada over next to Sylvan and the three unconscious henchmen and smiled. I quickly ran behind Frémont and scooped up Asada and Sylvan into my arms, holding them close and praying that we'd all be alright. Tears began to stream from my eyes.

"You know the deal then," Frémont said. "Fifty-one percent of everything this place makes goes to me from now on. I'd kill you, but then I'd be killing the beautiful voice that's going to make me a lot of money from now on. In exchange, I leave, and as long as the payments continue, there will be no more incidents like this. Understand?"

"Yes...." Sylvan's mother replied, tears streaming down her face. "Please... please go..."

Frémont smiled and slowly began walking out of the hallway, toward Sylvan's mother. He walked toward her until he was nearly three feet away, and she began to tremble. Then, he casually walked up to the edge of the stage.

"Remember, fifty-one percent," he said. "Or I can no longer guarantee your safety. When you call the authorities to cart off my hapless henchmen, this was all just a violent robbery. Don't even try to send them after me. I think we both know how that would turn out."


Frémont put the sword back in its sheathe and walked through the stage curtains. We didn't know if he'd left the restaurant until we'd heard him walking out the front door. When he did, Sylvan's mother collapsed to the floor and began sobbing violently. I walked up to her, but she waved me away.


"Edward, call the police... call 911, we need the hospital and the police... hurry, before any of those horrible men wake up!"

I quickly obliged, dashing into the office and dialing up the emergency number on the office's videophone, which thankfully hadn't been disconnected. As I dialed, still sobbing, I could only hope that Sylvan and Asada would be okay... and that I'd never, ever have to see that horrible man again...

---

Poor Edward! ;_; I'm sorry for such a dark chapter... but now all of you have a good idea about just how vicious and mean Cecelle Frémont is! The review button is a good place to bash him. Or praise him, if you root for the villain, heh...