"You Can Pick And Choose Your Battles, You Know. You Don't Have To Fight Every One."

"You can pick and choose your battles, you know. You don't have to fight every one."

It was not the first time Spike hallucinated Jet speaking words of advice to him while he wavered on the cusp of consciousness and a lack thereof, or perhaps more accurately... living and dying.

It was, however, the first time he heard Faye's frustrated contribution in his mind...

"That's still too many battles! Put some back!"

Of course, neither of them had ever left any fight alone even the times they'd adamantly refused - verbally, at least - to engage... so really, what a bunch of hypocrites his crewmates were.

Jet understood undertaking suicidal missions when there was a greater goal at risk. Faye understood the necessity of never backing down, of refusing to compromise. And yet they both mouthed pithy things at him as if to sway him from putting his life on the line just one more time... and maybe once again after that... and okay, yeah, a few more times perhaps...

The reproval in their eyes was clearly just a delusion on his part. When he finally woke for real, he knew he'd be met with expressions of relief on the faces of his comrades.

He'd made it through another life-or-death adventure. He'd won against the Grim Reaper.

And no one could stop him from fighting that good fight again and again.

dialogue is taken from... well, tbh I'm not sure the original source but we've all seen it before so obviously it's not mine

@febuwhump prompt: "bite down on this"

***

"This fucking hurts!"

Spike scrambled through the tool kit in the workshop and finally seized upon a tool that had a rubber sheath on it. In his haste to get back to Faye he nearly tripped over his own two feet before reaching her side.

"Here! Bite down on this!" He encouraged, offering her the tool.

Faye's mouth opened in disbelief and she had to quickly smack the proffered item from his hand before he could stick it between her upper and lower teeth himself. Despite herself and the excruciating agony tearing through her, Faye began to laugh until tears were spilling down her cheeks.

"What the fuck are you thinking, you goof?" She demanded through giggles once she was able to speak again. "You're not setting a fucking bone here, Spike!" She snorted, her chin dropping to her chest for a moment.

Spike sat back on his heels, expression crestfallen.

"I don't know what you want from me, Faye. I don't know what you need from me. I'm way over my head here..." He took in a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly though his heart was still racing wildly. "I just... you... what do I do?" His voice was plaintive and warbled slightly as if he was fighting to keep from breaking down.

Eyeing the distraught cowboy, seeing fear prominently displayed on his features for one of the first times in her life, Faye took pity on him.

"Just... hold me, you dolt. I'll take care of the rest for now. Don't worry, Jet will get back here with Doc in no time." She winced as another contraction took her breath away. Spike looked physically pained by her discomfort and she tried to suck it up and play it off as he tentatively settled in behind her so she could lean back against him.

"This is ridiculous, Faye. You should be in a hospital." Spike muttered quietly.

"I don't trust hospitals." She replied when she could focus on something other than the pressure. "I trust you. I trust Jet. And given how many times he's put you back together again, I trust Doc too."

She felt Spike shudder behind her as he exhaled. "I just... what if... I mean... if something goes wrong..."

"Shh, shh, shh..." Faye reached down to grab his hands in her own, squeezing his fingers between hers partially for his comfort and partially to deflect the discomfort she was feeling somewhere else. "Don't go borrowing trouble. Fuck the future. There's only now. There's only this. The present is where we are and what we have control over. I've got this. Do you believe in me?"

He sighed shakily, burying his face in her hair so he could lean his face down to press a kiss against the side of her neck.

"You're one of the only things in this world I have any faith in." He replied eventually.

"Damn straight." She breathed. Another contraction was beginning to crash over her. It was awful but it was endurable. And, since she'd familiarized herself with all the available text and videos on childbirth, she knew that they still had some time before their baby entered the world. She wasn't sure if her water had broken or not, but she wasn't yet feeling the urge to bear down.

"You sure you're okay? I can't do anything else?" Spike murmured, flexing his fingers against hers as her hands relaxed as the contraction faded away.

"You're doing everything I need right now. You are everything I need right now." She replied in a soft voice.

Their world was about to change for better or for worse... hopefully for better even if it took a lot of work to keep it on a good course. She understood his fears, his concerns, his helplessness. She could welcome those emotions, address them, and ideally soothe him a bit. Perhaps it was the mother already in her that was so patiently dealing with his anxiety in a time when she herself ought to be comforted, but she felt remarkably calm. She felt nearly invincible, truth be told.

Spike so rarely fell apart. He did not often display any sort of true uncertainty or worry. It made him all the more human to her, his panic, and it made her love him even more deeply. He would likely put on a brave front when the others arrived, but for now he was clinging to her like she was the only secure thing in a world of upheaval.

And realistically, she was.

The woman who had cracked open his heart after Julia left it weakened and exposed... Faye had reset it like a broken bone and nurtured it until it was no longer paining him. She had become his guiding light, his north star, the safe port where he could moor his soul and rest easy enjoying the days at her side.

But neither of them were truly capable of relaxing into a life of easy sailing. They needed challenges to thrive... and what better challenge than raising a child?

It was the butterflies that did it.

Dancing at the edge of his vision... There except whenever he would turn to look. Not always present, of course, but whispering into existence far too often for him to not develop doubts.

It didn't help that he had been half convinced life was all a dream prior to encountering Vincent. And now...

The child was gone, the dog presumably at her side. It had hurt to read that goodbye but it felt somehow fitting that innocence should have fled before things got really bad.

With their absence it was harder to hope for a bright future. Harder to believe that this weary existence wasn't a dream turned nightmare.

And still the butterflies fluttered at the corner of his eyes.

Sometimes he thought Faye might see them too. The way she'd turn her head too quick and then frown in puzzlement. The way she gazed out of the windows without seeing the view beyond the glass... He could always tell when that thousand yard stare meant she wasn't seeing anything truly in front of her eyes.

Jet had actually asked once, when she had somehow not heard him calling her name multiple times. Faye had been startled when Jet clapped his hand onto her shoulder and had mumbled something about dust motes, though Spike could hear the lie in her words.

Were they living a shared dream? Had they actually died at some point before... perhaps as early as the explosion in the Linus Mines? Perhaps bewitched by that restless spirit child who lurked in the internet and drew other souls down into eternity with him? There were countless occasions where they could have met their end without realizing...

Was this purgatory? Was this a dismal dystopian dream? Was this truly living?

Jet was morose. Faye was haunted. Spike wasn't sure he could do a thing for either of them except perhaps ensure they continued to exist in this... Whatever it was. Maybe that was cruel of him. Maybe they wanted out just as much as he did. But he couldn't make that choice for anyone else, could only assume this was reality and that their lives were to be protected.

After he walked away from Faye, he felt a heavy loneliness settle on his shoulders. It was crushing in a different way than the weight he carried for the sins he'd committed over the years. There was no dream of a golden haired vixen... There was no impossible future to pretend was in reach...

There was only Spike, dead set on a mission to find answers. To find closure. To discover the truth, as if it even mattered.

Just Spike, flying off to face the devil and perhaps secure his own death.

Just Spike... and the gentle kiss of butterfly wings caressing his cheeks, brushing against his hair like the softest breeze, almost real and yet...

And yet...

Was any of this real? Would facing Vicious shatter this illusion into some sharp-edged reality he could piece back into something that had a chance of having a tomorrow?

Spike would soon find out.

this is almost exactly how I pictured them when writing one of the chapters of Boogie Wonderland...

so very happy that you are drawing them! you've done a lovely job!

so happy to be drawing them, hope you like it too!

@febuwhump prompt: obedience

***

Shame coursed through his veins, but damaged pride made him cry out in self defense.

"We are upholding the law of the Dragon! We are no betrayers, sensei. We are loyal men!"

"Your loyalty is not in question, Spike. It is your obedience we demand. These territorial disputes with the White Tigers and the Blue Snakes and the Golden Eagles! These - these... Pissing contests you and Vicious persist in participating in!" Mao's anger was sharp but even more cutting was the disappointment shining in his eyes.

Vicious, standing rigidly at Spike's side, kept his eyes fastened to a spot just over Mao's head. For his part, Spike could not look away from his mentor's stern face.

Embarrassment made his skin hot. To be held in such disregard... To be admonished as if they were children... Worse still, to have let down the man who had taken them in and given them a place in the Syndicate...

Mao sighed heavily. "You boys are far too brash, too bold, too disruptive. There was a reason you were removed from the Dragon's Teeth. You cannot be trusted to moderate your behavior or to adhere to the orders you are given."

"Sir, you don't understand - they started it this time! We caught them crossing into our turf by the harbor. They were setting up shop in one of the warehouses down there! We had to push back before they got the idea that this kind of thing is acceptable!" Spike protested.

Mao stared at him. "Why were either of you down there in the first place? You had no assignment in that area. There are no bars to cool your heels down on that wharf. Your... impetuous behavior was uncalled for and has set back the treaty talks that had begun between us and the Eagles. Worse, your attack on their men resulted in the death of one of their Capo's sons. They are demanding blood for blood."

Spike pursed his lips and shifted his glare to the floor. Vicious continued to stand silent beside him. Of course, Vicious never had much to say in their defense. He felt their actions spoke loudly enough and insisted that their words would only fall on deaf ears. Spike was beginning to realize the truth of that assumption.

"You cannot...seize opportunity... the way that you have. Neither of you are at a level to be trusted with making decisions for the Van. The Elders demand obedience even if you choose to not offer them respect. I will say yet again that I am ashamed at your wild behavior. It reflects poorly on more than just the two of you. It lowers me in their eyes as well. This type of thing cannot continue. Dragons do not truly exist so let us compare you to canines instead. You are curs, not men. You are to be on a leash of our control and to obey our commands. You bite who we say to bite, no others. If a dog cannot be trusted to obey, the dog is to be put down. Do not delude yourselves into thinking that the Van requires your skill set so much that this will save you from a death sentence."

Spike could hear Vicious grinding his teeth. He felt like doing the same.

There were so many arbitrary rules to follow in the Syndicate... So many hoops to jump through to keep the Elders happy... So many commands that made Spike's skin crawl. He craved the violence of taking down their enemies, fighting hand-to-hand or storming in with guns blazing. To be engulfed in the heat of battle with no time for second guessing your moves and to have only yourself, your weapons, and your bloodthirsty teammates standing between you and a painful death. He reveled in the thrill of beating someone in a fair fight and he took pride in the destruction he could cause with explosives.

He and Vicious were men of action. They were fierce and formidable and fought like devils. They deserved to be the Dragon's Claws, striking out and rending flesh! They were not made to act as the Dragon's Teeth, standing around like invisible shadows behind the puppet masters, quietly waiting for a chance to showcase their talents at keeping their lords alive. That had been belittling, to serve in such a boring capacity.

But now... To be told they weren't allowed to defend their own territory? To be made to sit idly by as rival syndicates encroached upon the streets that they controlled? It was galling. It was ludicrous. It was a mark of feebleminded frightened men.

They were Red Dragons. They had to prove their power, draw first blood, and demand respect.

Acting as delivery boys - as had been their missions lately - was embarrassing and annoying. It was pathetic work, something fit for children, not for some of the toughest men the Elders had at their beck and call.

"Sir," Spike tried again, speaking through gritted teeth. "Respectfully, we would like to be reassigned. We are being wasted as errand boys. It is degrading."

Mao's hard eyed stare made him gulp. Vicious shifted uncomfortably next to him when Mao glanced in his direction.

"You think you are important enough to make demands? You think you are worthy enough to have more responsibility? You arrogant children..."

Spike seethed at the censure from their mentor. It had hurt when he felt like they had let Mao down, especially since they had anticipated being rewarded for quelling that invasive maneuver the Eagles had tried to pull. He hadn't exactly expected rewards but this was absurd.

Outrage roiled in his belly, rising up his esophagus like heartburn. He was hard-pressed not to make matters worse for himself by adding anything else to the one-sided conversation.

Mao, clearly still vexed, gave a sigh and shrugged. "Well, fortunately for the pair of you, the Van has indeed decided that you are to be pulled from your current jobs. They were not impressed by your success rate anymore than they were pleased by your assault against the Eagles. In fact, it was decided that the pair of you shall be our offering to appease their bloodlust."

Vicious opened his mouth but said nothing. Spike physically recoiled.

"Don't look so offended, boys. It's hardly what you're thinking. In fact, it's exactly what you desire. We are sending you over there as a sort of Trojan horse if you will. They think you are a sacrifice. They do not realize that allowing you into their headquarters will mean offering their own necks to be cut. We intend for you to turn the Eagles' Nest into a slaughterhouse."

At that, Spike and Vicious glanced at one another. Smiles began to creep across their faces, hardly daring to believe their luck.

"You are to head to their neighborhood this very afternoon. Act contrite, express our condolences. They will likely bring you to the Capos themselves so you can go through with this sham of a trial they are insistent upon. This will place you near enough to the heart that you can stab it with ease. Be thorough." Mao advised. "Now, I have business to attend to. See yourselves out, if you please."

"Hand it over lady! All your cash! Now!"

Faye closed her eyes and took in a deep drag of her cigarette.

"Did you hear me?! Give me your wallet! All your woolongs, now!!"

Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes to a narrowed slit indicating her aggravation. The man standing before her was dressed decently for someone down on his luck enough to be utilizing theft as a means of living. He was a bit thinner than would be considered healthy and had sunken eyes that gleamed with avarice. He brandished his knife like a cattle prod as if to encourage her compliance.

Faye snorted and gestured irritably at herself. "Does it look like I have money?"

The would-be robber glared at her. "You're on the street half naked! No doubt you've been raking it in tonight!"

"All right, asshole. You're fucking with the wrong woman." Without warning, she flicked her cigarette at his face. Her aim true, the burning tip succeeded in making contact with his eye. The man cried out in pain, slashing wildly with the knife as his other hand shot to cover the injured eye.

Faye, back to the wall she'd been leaning against while enjoying her smoke, scuttled to the side to avoid his blind assault. Moving fluidly, she swung her leg out low to knock into his ankles and brought him crashing down to the dirty alley ground. A swift kick to his elbow had him dropping the blade he'd somehow managed to maintain possession of in the initial fall and she quickly booted that out of his reach.

By the time Jet came out of the building with a cardboard box presumably full of the miscellaneous parts they'd stopped at this sales shop/garage for, Faye was standing with one heeled boot planted firmly on the wanna-be thief's back and casually smoking a new cigarette that she'd liberate from a pack he'd had on his person. The blade was decent so she'd pocketed that for herself as a souvenir to make up for having to deal with this kinda shit first thing in the morning.

"What the hell happened out here? I wasn't gone five minutes!"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Try closer to an hour, Jet. You're like a kid in a candy store at these places, you can't get in and out quick. Trade me. I'll take that stuff back to the ship, you can haul this prick to the nearest precinct. Probably a bounty on him for something, he seems the type."

Jet sighed as he handed over the heavy box. "One of these days we'll have to clear your name so you can bring perps in on your own."

"Psh. I already do enough work for this job, I think you can handle being the delivery guy. Besides, what else is all that muscle good for?" She jested, using her right elbow to jab at his abdomen as she gave him a wink.

The flush that spread across his cheeks was always somewhat endearing to her, so Faye quickly made her way towards the zipcraft with a cheeky little "ta!"

Just another day, just another brawl, just another blush...