going, going, gone ♡ ( fin. )

session one

so what are you now, dead or alive ?

A question tugged at the pit of Faye's stomach, she watched Spike lay stiff on the makeshift bed Jet had set up. Jet had patched up his wounds, but he still hadn't moved. His eyes were closed, and it angered her, he had always been so watchful. He had always seen things before they happened like a sixth sense, even when he claimed all he could see was the past — bullshit! Faye spun and smacked the collection of medical supplies Jet had left scattered, sending them clattering to the floor. Her shoulders shook, their little team was torn at the seams.

Spike, in another world, Jet staring into space (literally) as they flew aimlessly wasting precious fuel. Ed had ran off in search of her father, Ein trailed behind. Faye's heart ached, she had pushed Ed to go. It might've been for the best though, she wouldn't have wanted the younger girl to see such tragedy.

She heard heavy footsteps, the violet haired female fixed herself. She squared her shoulders and narrowed her brows, her eyes were red and puffy. Jet poked his head in, eyes heavy and red all the same. "Anything?" He asked hoarsely and it send a knife to Faye's chest.

She shook her head despairingly, her shoulders shook her fingers trailing up the arm opposite to them, clutching her flesh. Her eyes squeezed shut as she hugged herself. Why did she have to care for this dumbass?

Jet stepped forward surveying his handy work, his gaze on Spike lasted a short moment. He sized up the heart monitor and the I.V. Faye knew he wanted to put the brain wave monitor on him too, but that'd be a last resort. She didn't want to think of what would happen if that was placed on Spike, would it just be ear piercing static, or memory fragments?

She stared at the floor inhaling the musky air, the metallic scent a calm storm that reminded her of why she had stayed the duration. Why she had laughed with them, fought with them, "Faye." Jet started softly. His voice was crackling, and she couldn't take it.

Spike always had to go out with a bang. It was wholeheartedly him, to have all the attention and the eyes, to flash a bit of teeth and a snarky one liner. She avoided Jet's painful gaze and her eyes darted to Spike. His eyes still closed, heart thumping softly, a faint sign of life in between the agony.

She was selfish to think how much she missed his eyes, the liquid fire they held. Always a plan in motion, ready to keep going till the ends of the earth. A deep playfulness and a heavy sorrow, go down further to his lips. They were missing the cigarettes or the whiskey, she wouldn't know.

This made her wonder about her family, she remembered the cracked fragments of the moon through the window. The echoing screams of horror, pitching her stomach into tight knots, had they been by my bedside weeping? Had they mourned? Is that was this feeling was, mourning? He's not dead though. She told herself over and over, but in any moment that could change. She trembled, the ghosts in the room playing with her ears, tweaking them to hear a flatline.

"Faye." He repeated again, her eyes shot to him. The last soul she had left, "Jet." Her voice wavered, clogged with tears and oh god — she couldn't. She felt like a child, unable to function. "What," She swallowed the lump down her throat, her eyes watered, crystal tears from emerald eyes. What a pair, what a fucking match, Faye shook her head. Her body shook harder, and Jet didn't seem like he was holding it together either.

"W-w-what are we g-g-gonna—" Faye couldn't speak, her voice clogged with sobs that wrecked her vocal chords.

Her legs shook and Jet caught her before she hit the floor, He trembled all the same. Faye wouldn't have imagined crying in front of him, or accepting some kind of embrace from this mess of a man. She didn't fight it though, they both cried harshly for their friend, who was one breath away from death.

"C'mon cowboy…" Jet whispered, Faye bit her lip. "I wonder if he figured it out…" She whispered her eyes glossed over, staring at Spike. Her mind miles away, but Jet brought her back, his hands steadying her forcing her to stand on her own. They should arm to arm, hunching over, inches from his bedside. Jet's fingers scratched at his scruff, his brows furrowed. "What are you saying…" he whispered to the air and Faye shook her head.

She stared at the floor counting the rusted rivets, "He told me." She started breathing deeply, "T-that he wasn't going there to die." Jet eyed her strangely and Faye sighed looking up to meet his gaze, his murky brown eyes were dull. Nothing like Spike's.

Jet still wasn't understanding, he was waiting for her to elaborate. Faye didn't want to, because it hurt to think about, how he had shared something personal, gotten in her face. He showed her his eyes, no fire left, just heaviness in pools of auburn murk. She hated him then, hated how he lost his fire. She wanted it back, and she couldn't describe why.

She never paid much mind to these heavy feelings before, so why now? Why was she torturing herself over a comatose man that might be too far gone, why, why was she —

"What did he say?" Jet called her from the distance, his hand on her tense shoulder. She looked to the pile of tools she had flung to the floor. "H-he told me, he was going there to see if he was still…" Her voice died, searching for her words once more. Faye closed her eyes, "Alive." She finished, her throat dry and screaming for water.

Jet scoffed, "The bastard." He choked out before spinning on his heel and storming out. The door slam echoed over the steady heart monitor beat, but the question still rang true.

"So what's it gonna be Spike," She whispered to his ghost, hands finding his painfully cold wrist. She stared down to the shell of a man she knew, "Are you dead or alive?" She choked out, her eyes squeezing shut against the onslaught of tears threatening to spill.

Her chest ached against the raging current in her mind and body, her fingers released his wrist and she turned on her heel facing the door. She didn't want another look.

She wanted to run away, though she would be banished to hell if she abandoned Jet now. She wouldn't live with herself if she went along with the impulse, so she left the room.

Letting the question echoe in her mind with the words Spike had left her, even so, even after all the time the group had spent together.

Spike was still the only one with the answers.