Spiraling
He’s alive.
I never let myself think about it before, but I know it’s true.
I let him walk, stumble, lurch out of that church, convinced he was going
off somewhere to curl up like a cat under a bush and die.
Damn him, and his rambling about tiger cats and white cats and any other
kind of cats. He’s not a cat; he can’t be, because then I’d have to
kill him another 6 or 7 times. And I’m running out of patience with
killing Spike. It’s losing its allure.
I must have known when Julia disappeared. Who else would she take that
kind of risk for? She defied her orders and ran. Maybe she was
smarter than me. She didn’t end up on Titan in the middle of a war for the
better part of a year. Lucky her.
I try not to think of Titan. It brings up Gren, and Gren is a strange
pain in my chest, something I do not, cannot, recognize. Gren was...
an unfortunate necessity. Beautiful, but ultimately expendable.
Mao must have known. “If only Spike would come back...” Not “if
only Spike was alive...” Meaning Spike was somewhere, meaning Mao knew
where Spike was, or had an idea. Meaning maybe Mao was waiting for
the moment to bring Spike back. I think I’m glad Mao’s dead.
Certainly, if he wasn’t, I would be.
That’s how I know, really. Spike must be alive, because I’m alive.
As long as I live, so does Spike. And when I die, Spike will die.
There’s something strange, almost poetic in that. One day, it will
be steel against steel between us again, and then, it will spiral out of
control, until neither of us can stop. And I will die by Spike’s hand
as he dies by mine. Fate’s fickle like that, more so that Fortune.
But they’re a pair of bitches between them.
Doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun in the meantime. Have to do something
while I wait.
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