Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ In The Middle of The Night ❯ In The MIddle of The Night ( Chapter 1 )

I wrote this 'cause it's just something that popped into my head. Hm... I'm still thinking whether or not to make it a chapter story or just keep it confined to this one story. I guess I'll find out also when I get to the bottom.
This takes place... um... sometime in between ep. 3 and 26. Spike has a strange habit (read and find out). But this bad habit could reveal some things that, maybe shouldn't be revealed. But who cares!! Ahahahaha! Please R&R!!


In the middle of the night

by: Setryochi


* * *

It's a quarter 'till 3... In the morning that is. I've been awake, still trying to find that comfortable position. All of my attempts of comfort have failed miserably though. Every last one of them. I looked at the clock and time was passing slowly, it had only been five minutes since I last looked at the clock. I sat up swinging my legs over the side of the bed tiredly. I ran my fingers through my messy, green, curls. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and stood up walking out of my room. I passed Faye's room heading to my training room where I could sit and watch the stars. But I stopped. Taking a few steps back I looked at the door that blocked me from her room. I knew that I shouldn't, and that I shouldn't have before. But it calmed me down, relaxed me, made me feel that my problems weren't so bad. She locks her door every night, so I'd have to pick the lock. Hm... That's what I don't like about the Bebop, the doors on the inside were so easily broken into. But... I wasn't breaking in. I was... Well, I wasn't breaking in! That's for sure...

I had picked the lock as easily as I had the other nights. Quietly I crept in through the door closing it with care. I walked over to the darkest corner and sat in the chair that I had gingerly pulled over. I always sat in the darkest corner, so if she did happen to wake up, there was a good chance (at least I hoped) that she wouldn't see me.

She never smiled in her sleep. Often I'd hear her murmur names, or sometimes a "no". She'd toss and turn at those times. I always wanted to ask her about them, or hurry to comfort her. But I couldn't, I doubt she'd understand. She'd be angry if she ever found out I watched her at night. I think she'd kill me even. Not that she could.

When I watched her time often went fast, I wished it hadn't too. It was already going on 4, I hadn't noticed the time. I was beginning to feel as if I could fall asleep right there. My head would bob slightly as my eyes started to close. I'd continually snapped myself awake. I was almost ready to give into the greatly welcomed sleep. That is until I heard her move and murmur something.

"...Spike..."

My name? Could I be hearing things? Was it a delusion from lack of sleep? Wishful thinking maybe? Whatever it was I was wide awake and looking at her even more intently. She rolled over once more, now she was facing in my direction. A smile snaked it's way onto her face as she said it again. This time I wasn't delirious or half asleep. I heard it plan as day...

"Spike..."

I watched as she reached out to grasp something, but the smile had faded when she retrieved nothing. What was she dreaming about? I wanted to know, but I could never ask her. After that I figured it was best that I didn't listen to anymore. I was invading her privacy and hearing things she didn't want people to know. And against her will she told me, she didn't know, but that's what was happening. I made my way back to my room locking her door before I left. I laid down but was no longer tired, I had a new reason for staying awake tonight. I had my arms under my head like a pillow, even though I had a pillow under me. I felt terrible. The questions running through my mind, making sharp turns and starting new questions. And they were always questions I couldn't answer.

How could I ask her? Or even talk to her at that? Why was it so hard to tell her something? Was I afraid?

Wait!

Spike Spiegel is never afraid!

I just... Can't form things into words, that's right. Talking isn't my thing.

But doing... is...

The problem with just doing, in this situation, was sure to get me killed. All the other stunts I pulled, all the dangerous "missions" I went through with, even without thinking, I was convinced I'd come back "alive". I was unprepared, I was trained in martial arts, not talking. I had never been a conversationalist...

As the night went on, so did my thoughts. It was near 7, at least that's the last time I had looked at the clock before I had fallen asleep.