Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Man in the Long Black Coat ❯ One-Shot
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: LH-chan 
During his recovery after "Ballad of Fallen Angels" Vicious reflects. Various (mostly episode five) spoilers.
Anime/Manga: Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.13.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 382 | Visits: 646 | Status: Completed
During his recovery after "Ballad of Fallen Angels" Vicious reflects. Various (mostly episode five) spoilers.
Anime/Manga: Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.13.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 382 | Visits: 646 | Status: Completed
Author's Note:
I don't own Cowboy Bebop, never have, never will. Likewise, the song "Man in the Long Black Coat" does not belong to me, it belongs to Bob Dylan, but doesn't the title just scream "Vicious' song". =^_^=
Man in the Long Black Coat
LH-chan 2002
The jet of hot water thrummed nosily against the cold metal of the shower, raising a cloud of steam over the inner room of the space cruiser. Not taking the edge off the biting cold that raised gooseflesh over his newly healed skin before he stepped beneath the water.
An uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling washed over him with the liquid. Warm water meeting cold flesh...felt like fire....
Burning...
Fire washing over him...memories unbidden....
Blood...shattered glass...his enemy, once his friend, falling away from him, a dazed, faraway, expression on his features.
The explosion...he realized the danger only moments before the explosion.
A flash, a roar...and burning.
Glass and wood, metal and flesh....
Burning...
He clenched his fists, leaning his head against the shower wall, fighting back the wave of terror that threatened him.
Spike...it was his fault.... The thought moved through his mind and he held onto it, thoughts of fire receding to the back of his mind as his body temperature regulated and the burning chill left his skin.
Spike...it was his grenade that caused that fire; it was he who was the betrayer, who had taken Julia away, capturing her body and soul with his own.
He thought that it was finally over, watching him fall away through the shattered stained-glass window...thought that the vendetta against his enemy was at last settled.
But no.... His enemy had survived, of that he was certain, because he had survived, though he should not have.
His enemy should not have survived. He had. In his mind, he was certain.
The score was still unsettled, but the day of reckoning was coming. He thought, stepping out of the shower and turning to stare into the half fogged mirror; the scant lighting of the room casting the deep lines under his eyes into sharp relief.
That day was coming, rushing toward them both with almost palpable speed. The vendetta would be paid, even if it was paid to his grave.
............
Time Never Stops...
I don't own Cowboy Bebop, never have, never will. Likewise, the song "Man in the Long Black Coat" does not belong to me, it belongs to Bob Dylan, but doesn't the title just scream "Vicious' song". =^_^=
Man in the Long Black Coat
LH-chan 2002
The jet of hot water thrummed nosily against the cold metal of the shower, raising a cloud of steam over the inner room of the space cruiser. Not taking the edge off the biting cold that raised gooseflesh over his newly healed skin before he stepped beneath the water.
An uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling washed over him with the liquid. Warm water meeting cold flesh...felt like fire....
Burning...
Fire washing over him...memories unbidden....
Blood...shattered glass...his enemy, once his friend, falling away from him, a dazed, faraway, expression on his features.
The explosion...he realized the danger only moments before the explosion.
A flash, a roar...and burning.
Glass and wood, metal and flesh....
Burning...
He clenched his fists, leaning his head against the shower wall, fighting back the wave of terror that threatened him.
Spike...it was his fault.... The thought moved through his mind and he held onto it, thoughts of fire receding to the back of his mind as his body temperature regulated and the burning chill left his skin.
Spike...it was his grenade that caused that fire; it was he who was the betrayer, who had taken Julia away, capturing her body and soul with his own.
He thought that it was finally over, watching him fall away through the shattered stained-glass window...thought that the vendetta against his enemy was at last settled.
But no.... His enemy had survived, of that he was certain, because he had survived, though he should not have.
His enemy should not have survived. He had. In his mind, he was certain.
The score was still unsettled, but the day of reckoning was coming. He thought, stepping out of the shower and turning to stare into the half fogged mirror; the scant lighting of the room casting the deep lines under his eyes into sharp relief.
That day was coming, rushing toward them both with almost palpable speed. The vendetta would be paid, even if it was paid to his grave.
............
Time Never Stops...