Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.
A/N: Everyone, read this first please. I must explain the setting and what-not. This little scene takes place in volume 7, right after Wolfwood and Vash leave Meryl and Millie in order to confront Knives. So imagine them traveling. I wrote this because I've never written Wolfwood before. It's kinda fun, actually.
Rustle, rummage.
Something lit.
"Aw, come on."
"…"
"Do you really have to smoke that in here?"
"Don't start."
"It's nasty and bad for you."
"Shut up, Spikey."
"I'm serious, you're going to get cancer."
"Just let it go."
"I'm telling you—"
"I said let it go."
Grumble, grumble.
Pause.
"Worried?"
"We might not see them again."
"They can take care of themselves."
"Probably pissed off right about now."
"They're smart girls."
"And too nosy for their own good."
"Who knows; they might follow us."
"No. She won't."
"Meryl?"
"Yeah."
Pause.
"Funny, I thought she'd be the one dragging Millie."
"Not after what happened."
"Oh. That."
Silence.
"…can't even look at me…"
"Don't you get it?"
"…"
"Forget it."
"…"
"You always end up shooting yourself in the damn foot anyhow."
"I know."
A cigarette's thrown away.
"You say that every single time we go over this."
"And I never say that you're wrong either."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"Spikey."
"Well, I'm just saying—"
"Can't you be serious for once?"
Pause.
A ray of sunlight hits the floor.
"Well…"
"Well what?"
"What else can I do?"
"Oh no. Don't even try asking me—"
"I face my screw-ups—"
"—one after another—"
"—and do what I can—"
"—getting yourself shot—"
"—but people. Still. Die."
"What the hell, you're not a superhero—"
"—they die. Because of me."
"You don't just randomly pull the trigger—"
"—still my fault—"
"—you can't save everyone—"
"—Yes! Yes I ca—"
"Fuck, Vash, it's impossible! How many times have we argued about this? How many times has it failed? There's no deus ex machina here, but there's a choice, a goddamn choice you have to make, and it's coming!"
"…"
A cloud passes by and briefly renders everything in shadow.
"I know."
A sigh.
"All those years."
"…"
"But…I try though."
"…it's hard."
Somewhere in Gunsmoke, a boy kicks up a cloud of dust, startling nearby birds, and they fly off in a frenzy; more dust whirls.
A long silence (time winding down). And finally…
"It's getting late."
"Got an appointment?"
"He's expecting me."
"Then we have to move fast."
Rustle, shift, creak.
And then—too quickly—a groan, buried thoughts, dust rising, and…nothing. Over.
Vash pulls on his pants and walks to the bathroom door. Pausing, he glances at Wolfwood and the rumpled covers.
"I shower first."
The clergyman shrugs and strikes up another cigarette. "Don't be slow."
Right then, everyone should now go: BZUH?! Oh, and review, please!