It was reflexive, thinking about them, on this day. He would close his eyes and think way back, way, way, back to those glorious days. Of course, as he lived them they hadn't been glorious. It was only now among the expansive empty desert he felt this. Little things came to mind, little phrases, snatches of vivid memory. He wanted to turn to a friend, to say 'Hey, remember when...'
He could have done that maybe eighty years ago, could have done that and not felt guilty, maybe ninety years ago. Now, there was no one living to tell the stories to. This had happened once before, well not once, he should really say that it had happened ages ago, because that's what it was. Ages had past, things had changed.
Meryl, Millie...Wolfwood.
Tears had gotten bitter about twenty years after Meryl finally breathed her last. She had been a seasoned age of eighty-six before passing away. He had been there, sitting with her in the hospital room at the end of it all. With her last breath, they had shared stories.
Hey, Vash , remember when...
She had told him stories, took him back to the way-back-whens one last time before dying seven hours later.
Millie had settled down with a gentleman from the old spaceship. He'd taken her and Meryl there to meet his family, well, the closest thing he had to one. She had hit it off with one of the guys, Seraph and they had settled down. He fondly remembered being dubbed godfather for all ten of her children.
As time passed, Vash really wished for one individual. He wished for Wolfwood. The name, the memory of the man's face, his laugh, even his foolhardy swagger, made his throat clench and his heart thud. That man had seen him, seen beneath his happy-go-lucky facade. No one had seen him, not since Rem.
'Hey needle-noggin...'
But there hadn't really been time for memories, not for him and Wolfwood.
"Brother, you're here, again."
"Yes, can't seem to stay away."
"What importance does this place have to you, that you come here every year?"
"There used t' be...a church here."
Knives scoffed, but Vash couldn't help but smile. True the religion had died years ago, but the man who had long past had made him a believer. Because if Wolfwood was dead Vash could only imagine the man deserved a heaven.
"G'bye," he whispered softly. He would be back next year and the next, until the end of all things, until even time forgot the place, until the stars dulled and the sands turned to glass, until he found his heaven where Wolfwood and all his friends would be.