ABC; A: Angel; Cowboy Bebop; Spike/Faye
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Title: A is for Angel
Pairing/Characters: Spike/Faye
Rating: T (for swearing)
Disclaimer/claimer: I sure as hell don't own Cowboy Bebop or its characters.
Summary: A: Angel; Cowboy Bebop; Spike/Faye for angelchan_2004
Status: Complete
The world was hazy, and his head throbbed. He didn’t know where he was, how he got there, or the last time he had a cigarette.
This wasn’t an ideal situation.
The clouds he was floating on could only be due to heavy drugs that were drifting through his bloodstream, and even though he didn’t mind it, he wanted to remember what put him in this position in the first place.
After about twenty minutes of back-tracking, the last thing that he remembered before waking was... oh.
Stairs.
Those were never good to wind up on for an extended period of time.
Deciding to bite the bullet and figure out where the fuck he was, he slowly, slowly, slowly, managed to open his eyes. The noise that began in his throat, a mix of a groan and a whimper, alerted the other occupant of the room, who moved so quickly it was nearly unseen.
Bright, bright, bright... were the only thoughts fluttering through his brain that had been working overtime. A shadow covered the light, and a glow surrounded this object. Purple?
It had been one of the most beautiful sights of his life-or afterlife, if he was, in fact, dead-and he was grateful for it taking the brunt of the light out of his retinas.
“Spike?”
That tone could only mean desperation and worry, his mind put together. He wished he could respond, only to figure out who this angel was, but couldn’t. His mouth was so dry, he could imagine a tumbleweed blowing down his tongue existed.
The shadow covered more of the light as the angel brought her face closer to his. “Spike! You’re awake! You’re awake! I’m supposed to... supposed to... call...”
Then the angel began to cry.
If he made an angel cry, he knew his next stop would be the gates of Hell. Fuck.
With a shaky hand, covered in bandages (wasn’t he always?), he cupped the angel’s cheek. This angel wasn’t blonde, didn’t have wings, but he knew that this angel meant a lot to him and vice versa, if she was there waiting for him to wake. The loss of blood in his system was evident, he was well-aware of that, but... the need to comfort this angel was more pressing to his system. Maybe dying twice in one’s lifetime brought along a change of heart.
“Oh, Spike...” the angel pushed his hand gently back to where it had previously been. “Don’t worry. I’m going to call the doctor and she’ll help you. I wish I could help.”
He was sure she already had.
That’s who she was.
Faye.
Title: A is for Angel
Pairing/Characters: Spike/Faye
Rating: T (for swearing)
Disclaimer/claimer: I sure as hell don't own Cowboy Bebop or its characters.
Summary: A: Angel; Cowboy Bebop; Spike/Faye for angelchan_2004
Status: Complete
The world was hazy, and his head throbbed. He didn’t know where he was, how he got there, or the last time he had a cigarette.
This wasn’t an ideal situation.
The clouds he was floating on could only be due to heavy drugs that were drifting through his bloodstream, and even though he didn’t mind it, he wanted to remember what put him in this position in the first place.
After about twenty minutes of back-tracking, the last thing that he remembered before waking was... oh.
Stairs.
Those were never good to wind up on for an extended period of time.
Deciding to bite the bullet and figure out where the fuck he was, he slowly, slowly, slowly, managed to open his eyes. The noise that began in his throat, a mix of a groan and a whimper, alerted the other occupant of the room, who moved so quickly it was nearly unseen.
Bright, bright, bright... were the only thoughts fluttering through his brain that had been working overtime. A shadow covered the light, and a glow surrounded this object. Purple?
It had been one of the most beautiful sights of his life-or afterlife, if he was, in fact, dead-and he was grateful for it taking the brunt of the light out of his retinas.
“Spike?”
That tone could only mean desperation and worry, his mind put together. He wished he could respond, only to figure out who this angel was, but couldn’t. His mouth was so dry, he could imagine a tumbleweed blowing down his tongue existed.
The shadow covered more of the light as the angel brought her face closer to his. “Spike! You’re awake! You’re awake! I’m supposed to... supposed to... call...”
Then the angel began to cry.
If he made an angel cry, he knew his next stop would be the gates of Hell. Fuck.
With a shaky hand, covered in bandages (wasn’t he always?), he cupped the angel’s cheek. This angel wasn’t blonde, didn’t have wings, but he knew that this angel meant a lot to him and vice versa, if she was there waiting for him to wake. The loss of blood in his system was evident, he was well-aware of that, but... the need to comfort this angel was more pressing to his system. Maybe dying twice in one’s lifetime brought along a change of heart.
“Oh, Spike...” the angel pushed his hand gently back to where it had previously been. “Don’t worry. I’m going to call the doctor and she’ll help you. I wish I could help.”
He was sure she already had.
That’s who she was.
Faye.