going, going, gone ♡ ( fin. )

session three

↼ a slowburn in albas ⇀

Faye had forgotten the time, she had sat in her room for hours, not able to stand. It was funny. Jet got pissed, but he was calm about it. Saving his anger for when Faye was ready to fight, he found her curled up. Her hair still greasy, pajamas crumpled.

"What happened to showering?" He inquired from the doorway, his wide frame taking up far too much space. Faye blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She felt delirious, floating in between daydreams.

Jet gritted his teeth, "I cannot believe you…" He grumbled before taking quick strides to her twin bed. He yanked her up by the collar of her shirt, Faye yelped as he brought her face to face with him.

"You gotta snap out of it Faye, I need you to work with me here, he's- he matters to me too alright?"

She searched his face for an answer she couldn't find. His eyes dull pools of murk, the lines in his forehead were scrunched up, his brows drawn up. He was pleading with her and it felt so outve character.

They had argued this morning, Jet didn't argue. He said was he said and went back to his plants.

She wanted to break something, but she simply shoved herself from Jet's grasp and fell backwards onto her bed. Faye averted her gaze, "What time is it?"

"Late. You sat in here all day while I cleaned," He crossed his arms and Faye flinched. He just had to add the last part didn't he; She huffed.
"Where are we headed?"

"Mars,"

Faye looked up at him with a quirk to her brow, "Don't look at me like that. We need supplies and Its real populated there, we could get help there." Jet mumbled.

Faye nodded, "Alright. get out, I gotta get cleaned up." She shoed him out and He shook his head softly. The ghost of his smile on his lips haunted Faye as she got her things and headed to the shower.

What the fuck are we doing ?

⚜

They arrived on mars, settling in Albas City. Jet parked the bebop on an abandoned pier. Spike was still lingering in the makeshift hospital room, Jet went in there to check on him now and then. She didn't want to look anymore, it felt like betrayal. Spike would've never let anyone see him like that if he could help it. He would be smoking on his death bed; flirting with the nurse for an extra pack, or trying to slip out of the room without anyone even knowing his name.

Jet gave her a list of items and his card with their last chunk of woolongs. In any other situation she would've blew it on alcohol and one terrible poker game. She wanted to play some cards, and win. Show off what she could do, shed her skin without really having to shed anything.

A gusty wind shot through the area, Faye's hair went swimming in it. Violet locks rippling, she bit her bottom lip. Faye stuffed the crumbled paper into her waistband, clutching the woolong card in the next hand. A matte black glock hidden in the inner pocket of her red overvoat. 

It felt strange to be out in the real world, it hadn't been all that long but it still felt like an eternity of sorts.

She huffed out a sigh and went for the errands at a languid pace, She had her telecommunication device on her if Jet needed to contact her.

She watched the world pass her by, the streets filled to the brim. People selling goods on the side, kids rushing past with toys running faster than time itself, wind kissing their faces. They were free; all innocent no debt hanging over them. Faye didn't really care much for hers anymore, she knew she'd never pay it off before she died.

After all it was only a number, a very large one at that, but still, a number had no power. Nothing had power; unless you give up your own, but that makes you a loser.

Faye never loses, and by that; even if she did (which is unlikely) she'd never admit it knowingly. Stubborn as a mule, far too pretty to be compared to one.

She crossed her arms in front of her as another group of kids sped by her, laughing without a care in the world.

Faye weaved passed them, picking up the pace to get past the street venders and into the heart of the city. Her shoes clacked into the cement, sweat formed on her brow with the sun glaring down on her. The broken buildings gave way to tall sky scrapers and bustling people. They were business men and women, wandering around in a daze while people like her traveled in space. It was funny, how they had the galaxy at their figure tips and yet things still didn't work out.

Then again, cities were plagued with syndicates since the police had all but given up, that's the only reason her profession existed; if you could even call it a profession.

She continued past everyone, barely focusing; searching for a supply store. She caught sight of one, but before she hit it Faye froze in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat at the flash of orange; a child no older than twelve sped by in a flash. Hair whipping in the wind, a shit eating grin. Green pilot goggles keeling out the dirt and dust.

Faye wanted to run after that damn bike, grab the kid and the dog. She couldn't. Faye told her to go, and what would their be for her to come back to? The ship was always a disaster, but now it was worse.

She pretended she didn't see the kid. Faye didn't even know for sure it was Edward, after all there was no sign of Ein. She shouldn't even be on Mars, she swore her father was on Venus; or maybe it could've been Mars?

Her head started to spin and she shook it off with a grunt, steeling herself and pushing forward to the supply store. She entered and rushed to get what she came for; filling up a basket with medical supplies, easy warm up meals, soap, and cigarettes.

The whole trip in itself was decently costly, she blew fifty woolongs on all the junk.

She grabbed the stuff and started her way back; not stopping herself from searching for a certain orange haired girl while the sun gave her a run for her money. A funny thought popped up as she fumbled through the bag for the pack of cigarettes;

Faye wondered if she could light one on the sun; she'd burn alive most likely if she even got close. It was scary, imagining your own skin being melted off.

She rolled her shoulders back, the cancer stick hanging from her lips as she blew out clouds of grey, the nicotine soothing her nerves.

Least she didn't blow the money on a sad trip to the casino.