Storm / Buried Alive / They're Not Breathing! (youre Not Delivering A Perfect Body To The Grave)

storm / buried alive / they're not breathing! (you’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave)

Panic choked him as he reached the spot where the snow had finally stopped moving. There was no sign of Faye. But he'd gone over the safety guidelines of skiing with her over and over again, including the section on what to do if you get caught up in an avalanche, so he trusted that she'd tried to swim to the edge as the snow carried her with it downhill. He'd been so close... he had seen that there were no trees or rocks for her to attempt to cling onto to avoid being buried alive... but on the other hand, that meant there hadn't been immovable objects for her to slam into while the momentum of the snow swept her along.

Her scream echoed in his ears and he chastened himself repeatedly as he dug into the settling snow. He'd lost his glove at some point but it didn't matter in the least. He'd give up his good arm just to save her if that's what it took. He couldn't even feel the cold anymore as his body began to burn from the exertion of trying to sift through the endless white in search of the bright magenta of her space suit, or the dark splash of her purplish hair. No doubt the cap she'd filched from the ski lodge gift shop was long gone in the tumble she'd just undergone.

What felt like hours later, he swiped against something that didn't feel like snow. Hope surged in his chest and nearly blinded him from being able to see that he had indeed uncovered a portion of one of her boots, thankfully still attached snugly to her shapely leg. Acting fast, he gently but relentlessly scooped handful after handful of snow away from her body until enough of her was revealed that he felt comfortable trying to pull her loose of her icy prison.

Fuck, he'd never hear the end of it after this. He knew how much she hated cold. Knew how depressing she found Callisto to be. Yet she'd been willing to entertain him when he had the wild idea of encouraging her to embrace both things. He'd foolishly thought that if he could give her some good memories, take her on an adventure that would let them cozy up in front of a fireplace while watching a snowstorm rage outside of floor-to-ceiling windows in their own private lodge... the plan had merit, but it had backfired in the worst way with this unforeseen event.

His excitement over discovering her was washed away abruptly as he realized she wasn't breathing.

No.

NO.

Before desolation could set in, before he'd dare give up on her, his body automatically began to go through the motions of CPR. It had been ages since he'd had to put the life saving skills of an ISSP officer to use, but he moved instinctively now as if he was back in the training room and earning top marks from the med tech in charge of educating them. This was so much more important than a passing grade. This was Faye - the woman who'd weaseled aboard his ship and weaseled her way into his heart. She'd been through so much... but she was a fighter! She'd fought to survive for years, fought to prove she cared about him for months in the wake of Spike's death, fought against her own uncertainties and fears to join him here for a vacation that should have let them relax and just be together.

"Dammit, Faye!" He shouted. Shouting at her, at the cloudy heavens above. "You're not delivering a perfect body to the grave! You're supposed to grow old with me! Don't you dare give up now! BREATHE, dammit!"

Snowflakes began making their peaceful way down to the moon's frozen surface. Aside from the thump of his fists against her chest, there was no sound. Her lips underneath his were icy and nonresponsive. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She was always lighting him on fire. Always kissing him with such burning passion that he couldn't ignore or disbelieve her when she vowed to love him, when she promised to stay.

"You promised, Faye!" He sobbed. "You promised me you'd stay..."

And then, just when he'd sat back on his heels... ready to give up after no doubt breaking a rib or two of hers in the painful process of trying to restart her heart...

A weak cough. A ragged inhale. The softest moan he'd ever heard from her - her sounds in the bedroom were never quiet, after all - and suddenly she was tiredly blinking her eyes open. Wetness trailed from those gorgeous green irises as she tried to shift to look over at him but he couldn't let her move - he had to wrap her tenderly in his arms, crushing her to himself as he bowed his head over her shoulder and buried his face in the snow-damp tendrils of her beautiful hair.

"Hey... easy... there... cowboy," She murmured. "I... may not... be made... of glass... but I feel... fucking shattered."

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" He ordered, easing his hug up just a touch. Belatedly, he thought to worry about other injuries she might have sustained in the descent. "Are you okay? No broken bones? Your skis are long gone I'm afraid. Hat too, love."

"Uhhh... I think... everything seems... intact. Fuck those... skis anyway... will you... carry me back? I... wanna just... curl up with you... watch this snow..." She chuckled, a sound threaded through with pain. "It looks... like it might... storm soon. Let's... get someplace warm. Wait... it out... together."

He inhaled sharply. "I don't know how you read my mind so well."

Another half-laugh, half-groan. "Same way... I fleeced you... all those years ago. You're just... an easy mark."

"Spike told me about your little dice trick." Jet told her then, carefully moving to stand with her in a bridal carry in his arms. The good one ached from the shoveling he'd done, but the metal one was solid underneath her fine form. He was grateful for that - a bit of insurance to see to it he was able to bring her somewhere safe.

"That... jerk.  Giving away... all my secrets!" She huffed. Her eyes glittered at him with amusement and adoration. "Rematch, love? No tricks... this time..." Her smile was devious despite her assurance.

"Okay, Faye. But when I win... don't think I'll be renting your clothes back to you. And... maybe I'll run around the ship naked with ya."

scented candle / troubled past resurfacing / what happened to me (I only sink deeper the deeper I think)

Ocean Breeze.

An innocuous name for a candle. A pairing of words designed to calm and soothe as much as the scent of the candle itself. It wasn't really very much like the ocean, though. Nothing about it screamed 'salty spray' the way the words did to Faye's mind.

Although... why did she have an idea in her mind of what an ocean breeze would smell like?

A peculiar combination of emotions stole over her. Fear, unreasonable and baffling. Anticipation, an anxious sort of excitement that almost made her hopeful.

Was her troubled past resurfacing at last? Would she finally glean some answers as to who she really was, where she had been before, what type of world she had come from? Maybe even one of the most desperate questions she had... what happened to me?!

She clenched her eyes shut as tight as possible and brought the candle to her nose to inhale deeply. There had to be something... some memory tied to this aroma. Or, to the breeze off the ocean? Water? WHAT WAS THE ANSWER? WHO WAS SHE?!

I only sink deeper, the deeper I think.

With a shriek of frustration she threw the candle as hard as she could, hearing it shatter as it hit a wall. Countless voices sprang up from all around as well. Concerned onlookers, bewildered but unhappy sales people, the deep voice of a no-tolerance-for-bullshit manager cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Faye dashed an arm across her eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears that may have been forming. Scowling at everyone in sight, she angrily strode away before anyone could think to restrain her for the damage she'd caused.

Fucking pointless. What did any of it matter anyway? Who cared about the past or answers? Life was full of uncertainty and the future was built on lies.

Stalking through the mall, she stumbled as she went by a burbling indoor fountain in the center of the food court. A quick glance at the ground didn't reveal any puddles or wetness that she could discern. Shaking her head to clear it, she continued on her way. The notion of retail therapy had quickly lost its appeal and all she wanted to do now was get back to the Bebop and drink herself into a stupor.

No need for past memories when your mind was too muddled to even remember the here and now. 

vows / restraints / don't move (see the chains around my feet)

Ed shuffled her feet nervously, vowing to listen to Jet in the future when he said not to take things into her own hands.

The chains around her feet were an effective restraint, much like the manacles that held her arms bound just above her head. As someone who had never so much as enjoyed trapping her toes inside shoes, this was torturous in and of itself. She was like a bird in a cage, except there was a gag around her mouth so she couldn't even sing.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and felt a rush of relief as she saw Faye-Faye stir where she'd been similarly trussed up.

When the other woman had failed to check in, Ed had gotten worried. She'd been back on the Bebop for only a week or two now and things there were still getting back to what she was used to before. Jet hobbled about the ship attending to the endless repairs needed to get it space worthy again while Spike remained incapacitated on the couch. That meant it was up to Ed to be the backup Faye clearly needed against this bounty head. She'd left Ein watching over Spike and had made off with the Swordfish II before Jet could realize she was up to something. He'd been convinced that Faye was fine and just being her usual unreliable self. Had forbidden Ed from going after her.

But Ed had known something was wrong. She'd come back to the Bebop originally because she had realized, after scouring the Earth for weeks looking for her father, that she preferred being someplace where people had your back. Where someone remembered to set out a plate for you for dinner. Where they looked after one another. And that meant she couldn't simply sit and wait for Faye to save herself - she had to act!

Getting caught by the extortioner hadn't been part of her plan though. The chains were cold and heavy against her ankles and the manacles were digging into the sensitive skin of her wrists. She had tried and tried to pull her hands through the metal circles but had only succeeded in making her forearms slick with blood leaking from the abrasions. Escaping handcuffs was more difficult than the videos she'd watched had led her to believe.

"Don't move." Faye's voice rang out clearly. She'd obviously woken all the way up and had realized they were alone in the damp basement of the abandoned house. The gag that had been around her mouth had been worked down until it was under her chin.

"Ed can almost break free!" She insisted, wincing as she tried to contort her hands again. Her gag had ensured that her words were muffled probably beyond understanding but Faye was smart and could see what Ed was up to.

The other woman sighed. "Ed. You're hurting yourself. Hold still, would you? Let me just..." There was an odd sound and then Faye's arms dropped down from the cuffs they'd been locked in. "Give me a minute to get these chains off my feet and then I'll come get you loose."

Ed felt a rush of pride at her companion's abilities and relief that she could stop straining her arms in her attempt to break free. It wasn't even embarrassing to have to be saved, not when she was learning something from her mistakes!

Once Faye had gotten the chains off and moved over to Ed, lowering her gag first, she set to make quick work of the restraints.

"Faye-Faye, you've saved the day! Ed came to rescue you! Will you teach Ed how to bust free? Videos didn't help! Please, please?"

Faye bared her teeth at Ed in a fierce grin. "You bet I will, Ed." The older woman vowed. "There's no way I want you stuck in a situation like this on your own, unable to do anything for yourself except scar up your arms. Now, will you stay down here while I go check if the upstairs is clear or should I assume you're gonna be right on my heels?"

"Ed wants to help! This guy had cuffs that fit my tiny wrists - that means he's held kids hostage before as blackmail. Ed is not about to let him roam free!"

Faye sighed. "Well, okay then but you need to stay out of my way, all right? Stay behind me and cover my back. Let me handle all the hard hitting." She glanced around at the space they were in. "C'mon, I'm gonna kick out those pipes over there. We need some weapons and I think those will do just fine..."

seeing double / working to exhaustion / you look awful (sometimes I get so tired, I don’t even know myself)

Jet blinked and peered blearily at the screen that was dancing in front of his eyes. It was difficult to make out the text or the image simply because he was seeing double. He was exhausted, no, he was well beyond exhausted.

But he couldn't go home to sleep.

Home was empty.

Reminders of the life he'd once shared with Alisa surrounded him there. Memories they'd made in the tiny apartment by the sea. Hell, the place still smelled like her favorite perfume and the kitchen had a zing of the spice he'd put on the last dinner that he'd made for her before she up and disappeared.

Well, that wasn't precisely true. She hadn't vanished... she'd left.

And despite his connections, despite his sleuthing skills, he refused to track her down. What good would it do to hound her? If you love something, you have to let it go, right? It'll come back on its own if it wants to. Stalking someone you proclaim affection for... that would be the antithesis of love.

Besides, he'd made a deal with himself. Had left a window of opportunity wide open for her to return. The pocket watch ticking away in his pocket was the reassuring reminder of that.

Tick, tick, tick...

He jerked abruptly as his chin hit his chest. Working himself to exhaustion wasn't exactly the best course of action in the aftermath of a breakup but at least it gave him something to focus on. Maybe he'd been too focused on the job to begin with? Was that why she left? A moot point now if so... besides, he was getting so close with this case. Corner a few more rats, hear a few more confessions, and he thought he might just have the answer he was looking for.

Europa had a huge problem with syndicates. It was the type of problem that bled over into nearby moons and sure enough it had begun to rear its diabolical head here on Ganymede in the past few years. Of course it had, the moons were all in varying states of depression or recession or population loss in the wake of the Titan War. And still there were murmurings that another war seemed inevitable.

He idly wondered if Ganymede might be smart enough to stay out of it this time. Was there even a choice?

He was just a cop, though. If the military wanted to go cause a ruckus elsewhere in the galaxy... well, good for them. Or, fuck 'em. It didn't matter a whit to Jet.

If the war was brought here to his doorstep, that was another story. So the potential war? Not his concern. The strengthening syndicate presence here on Ganymede took priority. There'd been an influx of drugs and criminals. Suddenly people were getting nervous about being out at night. There were neighborhoods that were no longer full of happy families but instead were full of abandoned houses and illegal activities.

Investigating one of the docks was actually the goal for the evening. Even if nothing panned out from this, it felt good to have a purpose.

A Styrofoam cup bearing steaming coffee was sat down on his desk, a few drops sloshing over onto Fad's hand before he could pull it away quick enough. The other man hissed in pain and shook out the hand, shaking off the scalding drops. Jet's eyes traveled over his partner and he wondered briefly if he looked as bad. They'd been pulling such long hours lately...

"Thanks. You look awful," he said gruffly to his partner.

Fad looked down at him with tired eyes but Jet wasn't sure if the other man even saw him. He had that look, what was it called? A thousand yard stare?

"Sometimes... I get so tired... I don't even know myself." Fad muttered, half to himself. He blew out a deep breath and rolled his neck before taking a sip of his own hot coffee and hissing again at the temperature as it hit his tongue. He gave Jet a rueful grin. "You might've thanked me too soon for the coffee, Jet. It wasn't the dregs this time, but piss water might be better tasting."

Jet huffed a short laugh. "If it keeps us upright and moving forward... well, then it's doing its job."

Fad closed his eyes for a moment and nodded sharply as if to wake himself up. "Speaking of that. You ready?"

Climbing to his feet, Jet nodded. "Crime waits for no one. Let's hit it." Grabbing the cup, accidentally splashing some of the dark liquid onto his left hand as he used his right to grab his gun holster out of the drawer it was in, he winced at the heat. 'Tis but a scratch! He thought to himself absently, a bit of dark humor at the unexpected yet insignificant pain. The Black Knight was one of his favorite parts of that old Earth sketch comedy. Something about the way the man never wavered in his pursuit of ...well, guarding a bridge for no discernable reason like a madman, but moreover his determination, how he never gave up... it really spoke to Jet. The man was like him. After all, when the Black Dog bites, he never lets go.

He finished his coffee as he followed Fad out the door.

goodbye note / neglect / I thought they were with you (I’ve got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule)

"What the hell is this?" Faye demanded of no one.

Jet was gone - he'd left hours ago without telling her what he was up to but the determination in his expression had made her hopeful that he was going after Spike. Then again, he could just be on the hunt for parts to repair the ship for all she knew. He had been so angry in their last exchange... well, it was a front anyway and he let it collapse by the time their conversation had ended. Spike made everyone hotheaded it seemed, while discussion of Julia was a much cooler topic. Perhaps that was because they had no skin in her game. Except Spike himself.

Was he dead? Was he hurt? Did he need her to come rescue him again?

She'd do it in a heartbeat. How much trouble could it be to navigate without the right thruster? She'd managed well enough in the dog fight, after all.

Where was anyone? What the hell had happened since she left them on Earth?

The smiley face grinning up from the flight deck had caught her eye but slipped her mind in the wake of her uncomfortable need to relay Julia's message and then in her haste to defend the ship. She'd assumed Ed was just being goofy... standing up on the bridge of the downed ship, able to at last truly take in not just the cheerful image but the loathsome words scrawled out as well... 

Faye was midway through chainsmoking her entire pack of cigarettes by the time Jet returned. She'd found a dusty bottle hidden behind the fridge as well - at some point Spike had obviously restocked his secret stash, or else Doohan had never actually collected on the liquor. Either way, it was Faye's now. Despite having drained a significant portion of the contents, she felt frustratingly clearheaded yet still depressingly confused about what she'd missed in her absence. The lack of life on the ship was impossible to ignore... no clicking of keyboard keys, no nonsensical rhymes being sung, no dog farts or nails scratching on the metal floor, no youth to remind the others of innocence and optimism, no animal to inspire them to be responsible caretakers of another living soul.

She waited for Jet to hobble over to her position, standing vigil by a message that broke her heart, before gesturing angrily at the red paint of the goodbye note.

"What the fuck is this? I thought they were with you."

Jet scowled at her and grabbed at the bottle. Since it hadn't served to get her drunk, she let his hand close around the neck of it and take it for himself to chug.

The amount he put away on his first drink was concerning. Had he gone after Spike? Had he... found Spike?

"She left. Think the dog went at the same time. Back on Earth, back when you bailed on us too. Went chasing after her father, I assume. Asinine thing to do considering the guy could have criminal charges against him just for neglect." He took another swig and then sighed heavily.

Faye's mind was spinning. A sudden spasm of guilt seized her heart. Was this... could Ed have.... she'd been in such a manic state after her memories came back in a landslide that left her reeling. There was a vague recollection saying something to Ed... her emotions had been all over the place, her thought process focused on one goal - the goal that had driven her since waking up in this lonely future. There had been a flame of hope flickering to life within her, a desperate longing for the place she finally remembered as home - somewhere to belong, and people who cared about her. For real cared about her, not just put up with her. 

She was a fucking fool. She'd gotten herself so excited, had believed things were finally going to fall into proper place... she'd even inspired Ed to make moves of her own. It was all her fault the girl was gone. The Bebop had been a shelter for them both, had been a place where they were fed and given places to sleep and made to feel welcome. She'd thrown it all aside in a mad bid for a reality that did not exist. And she'd convinced Ed to try her luck at... at what? Tracking down some asshole who couldn't care for her like Jet did? For some jerk who didn't look out for her like Spike did? For the ludicrous words of a woman who had no right to say a damn thing, no authority to encourage such a wild departure from a stable life - even one so dangerous and destitute as the one they led here had still had more to offer than aimlessly roaming a barren countryside constantly at risk of lunar debris crashing down.

She nearly choked as she hit the filter on her latest cig. Spitting it out, she hurriedly lit another one and then, in a rare show of generosity that should have indicated to him the remorse she felt, offered one to Jet as well.

A head full of chemicals, a mouth full of ridicule... she didn't trust herself to speak.

They stood in silence, smoking and drinking, watching as the sun set on another brutal day of heartbreak and the eternal struggle to keep going.

She didn't know where Ed and Ein were. Couldn't bring herself to ask Jet if he'd found Spike.

There was an kernel of something positive in the lack of knowledge... in the chance that the ones missing were miraculously doing okay.

borrowed clothing / bridal carry / not much longer (it’s okay just to say “I’m not okay.”)

Part Three of Three (first prompt 6, second prompt 28)

"...not much longer..." A familiar voice was assuring her. Or someone near her at any rate.

Faye immediately regretted the return to consciousness. There was pain in every portion of her body that was currently reporting to her mind. Some parts seemed to be numb but that was a pale sort of relief when you considered why they might be lacking sensation, and when you considered how eventually that numbness would recede and discomfort would take its place.

She was being carried in someone's arms, one strong arm under her upper back and another under her knees as if she were about to be brought over a threshold into a happy new future as someone's blushing bride. There was something unpleasant smelling covering her... she squinted at her own lap and realized she was wrapped in a filthy and bloodstained trench coat. What the fuck?

"Faye?" Her ride was speaking to her.

"I'm fine." She replied instantly, though she was the furthest thing from fine that she could imagine.

A wheezy chuckle. "Don't make me laugh. I'll drop you." She noticed the arms that were carrying her seemed to be shaking from the strain. "It's okay to just say 'I'm not okay' you know. It's just us, you don't have to put on a show of strength."

"Look... whose talking..." she mumbled, head lolling against the dirty suit jacket that could only belong to one man. "In what... mad world... did I decide to borrow your clothes?"

"If it's any consolation, you fought me pretty hard while I tried to put that around you." Spike told her. "Granted, you were obviously out of your head with delirium thinking that I was the enemy. For someone so fucked up... you still had quite a bit of fight in you." There was definitely pride in his tone and Faye smiled.

"We going... back to the ship?"

"Nah, well, yeah. Not immediately though. Almost to Doc's place. It's kinda like a safehouse and he can patch us up while we're there. I don't know where your bracelet is and my ship is too far to get to."

"My bracelet..." That was a significant blow. Having the ability to call upon her own vessel for rescue or a quick escape? Absolutely clutch in so many situations.

"We'll see if Doohan can rig you up another." Spike promised, seeming to understand her dismay. "In the meantime... well, I'll come running whenever you call."

He had clearly been through a bloodbath on her behalf. There were far worse options as far as having a backup plan went. Or, backup in general.

This wasn't the first time he'd answered a hail to save her life. And truthfully she trusted his ability to get her out of no-win scenarios just as much as she trusted herself to do the same. Perhaps it was time to admit that she was grateful for his presence in her life... to admit she needed him around.

"Spike, I... you..." she fumbled over her words, knowing what she wanted to say but not sure how to get it out.

"I know." He interrupted.

She tilted her head to look up at him in confusion and saw a smirk dance across his lips. "Wha..."

"You told me all sorts of stuff last night when you thought we were about to die." He replied. And then glanced down at her with a softer smile. "You were pretty out of it so I won't hold you to anything you said."

A blush spread across her cheeks. What could she have confided? Worse, what could she have promised?

"Stop thinking so loud," he complained then. "I can practically feel you giving yourself a headache. Later, when we've had a chance to decompress, I'll tell you everything you might have forgot."