in photos we were smiling
but something was wrong in you
inside you were suffering
lungs were barely moving
I wanted to comfort you ohh no
so I said shhhhhh
oh you'll fix all my cracked broken bones
and replace all my black poison blood
****
He awoke with a gasp. Struggling to breathe, he sat up as the sweat trickled down his neck, leaving the mass of mossy hair in damp curls. After what felt like an eternity, his constricted airway eased, allowing sweet breaths of air to enter his lungs. He inhaled a few shaky breaths as his body relaxed and wiped the sweat from his face.
Spike couldn't remember what he had dreamt, but he figured that it had something to do with his past life. Breathing deeply, he forced his mind to focus on anything else to chase the demons away. As he looked around the room, his eyes fell upon a photo taped to the wall above his desk. Although he was too far away to actually see the picture from the bed, the details were etched in his mind.
The picture had been taken a few months before, during a stopover on Ganymede. Edward had been running around the deck with a camera around her neck, taking pictures of the floor, the door leading to the storage area, Jet's cybernetic arm, Faye's suspenders, Spike's big feet. She now wanted to take "candy-dandy" shots of her Bebop "family," much to their consternation. No one particularly liked posing in front of a camera, and as much as told her so by their protests and their grimaces. Edward's usually impenetrable demeanor was absent; she had looked at them all with as if she wanted to cry.
Spike professed to dislike kids, among other things, like pets and tomboys, but his heart twisted at the look on Edward's face. So, exhaling in an overly dramatic huff, he sauntered over to Faye, and in a sudden move, grabbed her around the waist and proceeded to tickle her. As she sputtered her surprise, he peeked over at Ed, and with a nod of his head gestured to her. A huge smile plastered across her face, she rushed in closer and snapped the picture.
"Edward!" Faye complained in a mixture of giggles and fury. "Spike, if you don't get the hell off me…"
***
Spike smiled at the memory, but the dark edges of his nightmare seeped through to the surface, fraying his nerves. A sudden knock at his door caused his heart to race. Damn, I must be losing it, he thought, letting out a shaky laugh.
The door slid open and light from the corridor illuminated Faye as she poked her head into the room.
"I thought I heard something…" she paused when she saw his face.
He glared at her mutely.
"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, walking over to him and leaning over to peer into his face.
He opened his mouth to fire off a retort, but for some reason, the words stuck in his throat.
"You okay?" she asked, uncharacteristic concern evident in her voice as she sat on the edge of the bed.
As he looked up at her he felt moisture welling at the corner of his eyes. Not now, he cursed to himself as a tear escaped down in cheek. Not in front of her.
Faye looked at him for a moment, then leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him. Spike closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of being enveloped in her warmth. She stroked his curls, comforting him as she chased his nightmares away.
"Shhh," she whispered. "Shhhh, it's okay."
