Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ It Was All Just a Dream... ❯ A Cowboy's Phoenix ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop and Such...

His vision was half gone, one eye blackened, unseen through the sheet of blood that ran down his forehead. The red liquid that seemed to cover his entire body matted his hair, unusually organized, down. He had lost too much blood, and he was finally beginning to feel it. This was it; this was the end to a dream. As he managed to stumble from the scarred elevator door he stared at his surroundings, shocked syndicate men did naught but stare as he finally approached the top of the escalator. Smiling sardonically, knowing that his death was near he raised one battered hand smeared in blood. Creating a gun finger he raised his hand to all his enemies.

"Bang"

And that being his final breath, he slumped to the floor, finally after many years, someone who was supposed to have died, finally did.

Or, at least, he thought he did.

Beep….beep….beep

"What the?"

It was bright, there was no doubt about that as Spike Spiegel managed to open one eye, and was this Heaven? Feeling a pinch in his arm finally forced him to look down as he saw an IV dug into his arm. Looking over himself he saw not his usual suit but a hospital surgical dress. Frowning in distaste and wincing in pain as he attempted to sit up, only to be forced to lie back down as a nurse literally jumped on him.

"Hey! Get off of me!"

"Mister, you're gonna stay here until the doctor clears you! Or at least someone claims you!"

"Tch, fine, nobody is gonna come though lady." He told her with a crass look spread across his face. His mismatched eyes now harsh with irritant anger. He then folded his arms behind his head and lay back down, looking distantly off to the side. He was feeling confined, something to the opposite of freedom, one of his most preferred feelings. And even worse, he found out a little later, the Hospital food was terrible, almost as bad as Jet's cooking. He needed to get out of here.

A matter of at least three days past before him with half opened eyes until, finally, the doctor let him go. With all of his possessions that came with him, his suit, fixed and cleaned, his trench coat cleaned and repaired as well. But to his distress, the hospital confiscated his Jerhico. Easily slipping on the clothing that he was used to, he stepped outside. This bothered him, no Jet, no Faye; nobody came by at all. He even would've welcomed a shouting match with the old dog. He didn't have anywhere else to go, so he figured, he might as well find the Bebop.

The streets were crowded, bustling as usual as he ventured aimlessly through them. The battery on his cell was shot, he had no idea where the Swordfish was at, and worst of all, he had practically no freaking money! He frowned at this fact, but nevertheless, it was unavoidable. So as quickly as he could, he spared his last five woolongs and bought a new cell battery from a nearby drugstore. With luck, Jet would still be on Mars, smartly flipping open the phone and dialing the onboard computer of the Bebop, he barely managed a signal.

About thirty miles away on the converted fishing ship, the Black Dog finally managed to get up from an uneasy slumber to find Faye gone as usual. But the beeping on a phone from the computer awoke him. With his eyes half shut, he barely managed to reach over to the phone.

"What?" He began, his voice set and resolute.

"Jet, it's Spike."

With a burst of unknown energy the bounty hunter sat up from the distasteful yellow couch, accidentally knocking over one of his precious Bonsai trees. "Goddamnit Spike! It's been three weeks! Where the hell have you been?!"

The image of Spike frowned and looked away slightly. "I've been taking care of some, things, okay? Where the hell are you? And where's the Swordfish?"

Jet smiled slightly, in an even divide of happiness that his partner was safe, and anger, knowing full well what was to come. "I've got the Swordfish docked on the Bebop, a tow-truck dropped it off, and I'm in the Ganymede Harbor, about ten blocks from the Loser Bar. Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"I'm at the opposite where you are, I think, use my phone as a locater, I don't really know."

"Goddamnit Spike, for someone who was born on Mars, you're really lost."

Back aboard the Bebop, Spike slumped onto the yellow couch, although it was still uncomfortable, it still was better than that hospital bed. The ceiling fan above him creaked and groaned, unsteadily breaking the hastened silence that followed him. Jet sat opposite of him, staring at him analytically before sighing and walking off, going to make his famous beef and sprouts, sans beef.

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, almost immediately falling into an uneasy slumber, he had the same nightmare again, the same one he had been experiencing for the last three weeks.

"Spike!"

"Julia, get down!"

The blonde woman dropped to the ground as Spike spun around and pumped out a shotgun round, blowing a gaping hole in the man that had just opened the door. Slowly she started to get up, too slow. Time itself had seemed to come to a stand still. The door exploded open as another hit man came through, aiming quickly and firing, the Cowboy managed to fire a split second before, but it was too late. She fell forward, eyes wide open in shock as a bullet exploded into her back. Doves, interrupted from their peaceful rest, took to the air surrounding her, taking flight into the blinding light sky. Spike, without hesitation, turned and fired upon the last hitman, the man cried out in pain and slumped to the floor as the Cowboy ran to the fallen woman. She looked up at him, an he in return, the both lost for words. At last on her final breath, she managed to mouth a few words.

"It was all just a dream."

And with that, she passed, the once brilliant sapphire eyes fading into the abyss as her breathing stopped, and he could do nothing but stare. This was it, what he had come to get back was lost, this time forever.

"Julia...no..."