Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun. Do you care? Probably not.

A/N: Sigh. It's late. Ca's depressed. What does that make? An angst ficcy of course! This is heavily inspired by the song 'Memory' from Cowboy Bebop and the author Shadow and Dark Promise. Checkies his stuff out if ya can! Anyhow. A/U. It's obvious. This is one of those fics that make WolfwoodxMilly fans cry (well…not really)…and…yeah. ^^; Ca tired and depressed AND listening to Memory over and over and over and over… Well anyhow, I'll stop ranting now. It's a lot like the setting of the old New York City…also inspired by my view of Cowboy Bebop. Also, this is a softer side to Wolfie-san…so go easy if I'm too squishy. I'm in a pit of depression right now. Well…if ur still reading this…I commend you. Here, have an ice cream cone. ^^

It was late. It was raining. It was that sort of rain that is ever so cliché to all of those cheesy big city romantic dramas. I heaved a heavy sigh.

Lightning bugs sparkled and glowed as they flittered around a lamppost, it's comforting light sputtering. The rain came down in gentle sheets, making a soft, steady putter against my grayish blue umbrella. The sky was a smoky gray, the color of the smoke that emitted from my dying cigarette. Every building on this street had their lights out. Everyone slumbered in peace.

I couldn't sleep. Not for the past few days. Vash, being the friend he is, was concerned, but I shrugged it off with a sardonic reply and a grin. An empty, sparkless grin. I think he saw that as well; his expression was not that of a satisfied customer. Meryl worried a bit too, but kept to herself. For once in my life, I'm glad she isn't quite as emotionally persistent as Vash. Well…maybe, except, when it concerns Vash. I chuckled mirthlessly, as I thought of how…'school-girlish' she becomes when Vash isn't drunken, or lady hunting.

I sighed. Don't think of them…on second thought…don't think at all. Too many memories.  Too much pain.

I look back to the street, and continue at a slow pace. The cold penetrates my black jacket and white shirt, and chills my skin. So cold. So lonely.

Fury was drowned in agony, bittersweet pain, but it managed to flare every once in a while. Him. It's his fault. That gangster that took her life. Took my spirit. It was he who kindled the fury and made the flames flicker and roar with contempt. But I'm above that. I won't let rage kill me. What remains of my mind. I don't want to die that way. It was too bad I didn't see him; a while ago, a pistol came to mind.

Ah. The destination. My destination. My unspent tears. Deceased love and memories. I entered the little graveyard where Miss Milly Thompson lay.

The dirt was wet, now mud. Its smell met my nostrils, the only warmth I could feel.

I could feel the…well, it was unexplainable. The tears, the memories, the sadness…it all roosted with the hearts and lives of the dead that resided here. I searched for her grave.

Finally I had found it. I stared blankly at the head stone – it was a simple block, with a praying angel perched upon it.

"God, take care of her."

I lay the bouquet of roses on the grave, and shoved the now empty hand into a jean pocket. I was silent and thoughtless then, as if she were here consoling me, and saying how silly I was for being sad. It was then, that I felt truly warm, comfortable. It was like the way a child runs to its mother for a quick hug and reassuring word, before going back to the world.

A loud BANG rang in my ears. Still thoughtless, I peered down to see scarlet red dripping from my chest. Then, pain came and shot through me like none before. I attempted to turn, to see the culprit, but my wound only screamed with hurting and I fell to my knees. The umbrella fell; I clutched my wound.

Sadistic laughter sounded. The killer. Her killer. Mine. I could feel the adrenaline running in my veins. His eyes gleamed with tawny malevolence. Crazed malevolence. I felt numb, and dizzily collapsed onto my good side.

My eyelids felt heavy, and the rain was now licking at my wound. Viciously. Cruelly. But I didn't mind. None at all.

I'll be leaving this world or death, despair; evil…I'll see Big Girl again. No more lies, no more anything. Just…sheer…bliss. Bliss, in the rawest form you can find. Heaven.

~El Fine~