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It was hard to believe that the woman sleeping in front of him almost gave her life to save his ass just a few days after meeting him. Faye was lying on the yellow couch, still unconscious after crashing her ship against that bomb. Maybe he was wrong about her, after all.
Spike was sitting next to her and stopped healing her wounds for a minute to just stare. He was definitely wrong about her and now he felt like shit. Not many people would have done that for him, to say no one. Her purple hair framed a tired face that rested still with an afflicted expression. Spike tucked a lock, dirty with dried blood, behind her ear.
"Hey," he whisped to wake her up without scaring her. "Faye, wake up." Seeing that it was not working he touched her shoulder and moved her a little bit.
She trembled before opening the eyes and jumping in the seat, stifling a scream.
"Hey, hey, easy, it’s OK," whispered him in the calmest way possible while getting up to sit in an armchair next to her so she could have some more space. Her eyes were wide open looking at him, afraid. It took her a second to understand what had happened and where she was.
"The bomb...," starts mumbling, looking at her own shaking hands full of scratches.
"You stopped it."
Faye glanced up and looked at Spike with sparkling eyes. He entertained himself by playing with a bandage between his fingers.
"You saved both of us."
The room was lit by a warm light from old light bulbs, one of them flickering. The noise of the motors charging the batteries could be heard in the background.
"So... everything went well?"
"I didn’t say that," answered Spike shrugging shoulders, the truth is that he didn't want to talk about it yet. "But we followed the smoke trail. You are lucky to be alive, Faye."
"Cool I've done something worth it once in my life."
"I'm not joking," his expression became serious. "I don't even know why you did it, to be honest."
"Yeah, neither do I," she looked at the ceiling. Well, maybe she did know why she did it, but it was too soon to open up like that in front of him. Spike smiled tenderly.
“Thanks for finding me, I guess. What about my ship?”
“I’m afraid it’s… toasted.”
Faye keept staring up at no particular point, trying to assimilate that all that was left from her entire life was now gone.
"Sorry that I woke you up, but you really should take these pills. Jet asked me to make you swallow 'em even if you didn‘t want to."
Faye chuckled.
"What am I, a dog? Are you putting them in my mouth and force it to close?"
"They will help, I promise.” He passed her a little tray with them on top. “Jet is very good at medicines and drugs; I guess being a cop makes you good at both."
"And what kind are these? Hope the second ones."
He chuckled.
"You can ask him later."
He hadn't finished talking when she swallowed them up all at the same time, then took a sip from a glass on the table.
"If he wanted to kill me, there have been better ways."
He couldn't help but take a look at her back, where some blood was glimpsed.
"May I...?" asked Spike with a raised eyebrow, pointing at her back. Faye tried to look at it, moving the fabric to discover a cut.
"Oh, shit."
"Lemme see." Spike stood up and grabbed some cotton and alcohol.
"OK, but don’t go too smart, I know your kind," said Faye turning her back to him and lifting her shirt.
“My kind?” Spike laughed, but there was no need to answer, they both knew what she meant.
His hands moved carefully upon her damaged skin, disinfecting all the cuts and applying ointment on top. There, almost naked, she looked like different person; her shoulders rested in a defeated position, she looked so helpless, far from the image of the tough girl she wanted to give the world. Her back was full of bruises, some new, some old and poorly cured. She stood still all the time he worked, just emitting a groan from time to time. Her eyes stared at the wall while covering her chest with the shirt.
"It doesn’t seem too serious; I would say that a few days off and some of your shower-bath-shower thing will leave you as new.” Before her grateful smile Spike decided to give her some space to rest, so he stood up and leaded to his room.
“It won’t hurt you to say it,” her voice resonated loud.
“Huh?”
“You know, like a ‘Thank you’. Maybe even followed by a ‘For saving my live, losing all of what’s left in your life and almost dying’. I know it’s difficult when you are so stubborn, but I’d really appreciate it.”
Faye made an obvious fake smile and Spike chuckled. He was more of an opened book as he thought.
“Thank you, Faye. For real.”
She was so surprised it was that easy. Spike looked at her in the eyes with the most honest gesture and then walked towards the door.
"And what about that stupid dog?"
"He's fine, probably pissing on the floor of the ship, as usual," Spike smiled and stopped from a second without looking at her. “You know what’s cool about losing your life?” His voice was soft and feelt even more personal then. “… That you get to build a new one”.
There was a sad smile in his face, but somehow it also showed tenderness and relieve of having her there.
“Welcome to the Bebop."