Chapter Text
The patron sinks low as it sinks in. Bebop has lost the ritual. Miss Shelly will not be surviving this disease, Bebop has failed.
Bebop doesn't go straight home. He first goes to Wraith, at the Bear Pit. He tells her, he's not fighting anymore. He won't come back. She offers to cover the funeral funds, as one last boon. She knows he's not planning on continuing on after this.
Bebop doesn't tell Lash. Lash can live on his life, without ever knowing what happened to Bebop. He doesn't need to know.
Bebop feels numb — he's never felt so before. He didn't realise he had it in him.
Miss Shelly's fate hovers over him like a cloud covering his sunshine, as he makes his way over to the scrapyard. People keep talking to him, greeting him. He doesn't offer anything in return. They know what it means.
He gets home.
He doesn't need to say anything, and Miss Shelly knows. She can feel it, she can feel how he feels. A motherly instinct.
Bebop hugs her. He hugs her and only lets go to get to work on making dinner. He doesn't know how long she has left, he doesn't know how many dinners he has to make. It's inevitable, but he doesn't know how long her fate will falter until it's time.
He stays close to her as she eats, and then he doesn't leave her side when she goes to bed.
She doesn't make it to the next morning.
All Bebop wants to do, is sit there, and hold her, until he's dead as well, until the house has broken down on top of them, until everything but him holding her is gone.
But he has things to do.
He doesn't want to leave Miss Shelly's side, but he argues with himself, he pretends that she's still alive to keep it up, just for a little bit longer.
He starts with throwing out all the food in the house. All the plants, all the fresh fruit and veg, all the deserts.
Even Miss Shelly's favourite.
Even the cake Miss Shelly had secretly bought for Bebop, in case he came back home victorious.
The next thing to do, was contact Wraith. It doesn't take long. She even gets him a lift back home.
Together, she, her driver, him, a few of her lackeys, all get into a car, and they follow an empty hearse to the scrapyard.
Bebop takes Miss Shelly's empty body to the hearse. He places her body into the coffin, which is put back into the hearse.
Bebop closes the gates to the scrapyard, and locks them.
Closed, permanently. Wraith will deal with the property, she tells him. Bebop doesn't respond.
The funeral is short. It's barely even a funeral. It's just a coffin going into a hole in the ground.
"Here lies a mother, a wife, a friend.
Shelly Fisher
18XX — 19XX
In loving memory."
Is what the headstone reads. Bebop can't focus on what's been spoken to him. It's all a blur, as dirt covers up the coffin below the ground.
Bebop is left alone after that.
Wraith knows he's not coming back.
Bebop sits beside the headstone.
He's quiet for a long time.
"I'm sorry, mum. I'm… I—… I was a bad son. I should've been better. B-but I wasn't. It's all my fault. I—… I'm sorry." Bebop croaks. He leans against the side of the headstone.
Bebop's systems shut down, for the last time.
"Here lies
Bebop Fisher
19XX—19XX
Taking care of his mother,
even in the afterlife."
It's written on a sign that someone put up beside him. Bugs crawl over his body. His eyes are still open, but his lights are off.
His wires have been damaged by the weather. Some of them are sticking out, in the open air, frayed.
Bebop's corpse rests against Shelly's headstone, as if he were giving her one last hug.
A flower pot lives beside the two of them, fresh forget-me-nots.
A photo frame lives between them, with an old photo from one of Miss Shelly's albums — a photo of both Bebop and Miss Shelly, from a time in which they were both well. Miss Shelly is smiling in the photo.
In front of Bebop's corpse lay a letter. It's addressed to him. On the back, the sender's name lay in aged ink.
'Jacob Lash'.
Known only by the one who wrote it, the letter within contains an admittance of love.
It's dated to the day before the ritual.