I do not own Trigun / Vash or Rem: they belong to the incredible Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.
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Outpost
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Year 0231 month 9 day 2
Vash walked wearily but hopefully as the suns passed their zenith to begin their slow march toward the western horizon.
The family he was escorting from one town to another seemed excited by knowing that their destination was within reach. The parents had quickened their steps, taking turns carrying their little girl. The older boy was bravely doing his best to keep up.
The younger boy sat perched on his shoulders, straddling his neck. The child was delightedly making Vash's shoulder-length black hair into a complete disaster. Thankfully, the little lad wasn't pulling too hard in the process.
Vash held one of the boy's ankles with his left hand, and clutched the drawstring of his bag, hung over his shoulder, with his right. He was careful to shorten his strides, so that the family would easily be able to keep even with him as they walked.
He caught himself whistling Rem's favorite song, and smiled.
It had been such an unexpected boon to see her alive and well again, after believing her to be dead for nearly two centuries. At first, he'd thought that he was either dreaming or else losing his mind.
But Shyla had been there. She told him that Rem was real, and alive. Then he'd hugged Rem to prove it. He found her completely substantial: she didn't withdraw or vanish as she had done in his dreams, so many times.
It had still taken him over a week to fully believe that it wasn't some kind of dream, which would end when he waked. How he'd longed for Rem over the years!
Yet it was good that she'd not been healed of her severe burns or wakened from cryo sleep before Knives ceased hunting humans. Vash knew that his malevolent brother would have destroyed her, had he learned of her survival during those years.
Vash shuddered at that thought. As much as he would have liked to see Rem again sooner, he was glad she had not been healed enough to be recognized while Knives was a danger to her. By the time she'd been healed and wakened, Knives seemed to be… gone.
The little boy yanked his hair harder than usual, distracting him from his thoughts. "Ow!" he complained.
"Be gentle, dear," the little fellow's mother reminded. "His hair is attached to his head, you know. If you hurt him, you've a long way to fall."
"I'm sorry," the little boy said contritely. He continued messing with Vash's hair, but more gently.
"Thanks," Vash said. He couldn't help smiling. He remembered playing with Rem's hair when he was small, too.
Rem... She had returned to cryo sleep, preferring to nap between his visits to the Seeds ship village. He knew that she was safe, regardless of what else might happen on No Man's Land. That was a blessing.
Speaking of unexpected blessings, Shyla was another. That independent Plant girl, who was so gentle of spirit, had learned ways to use her Plant power to heal people. She'd taken pity on that unrecognizable, nameless burn victim in cryo who turned out to be Rem, and restored her to health. In so doing, she had restored Rem to him.
The girl had been very young when he met her. He'd collapsed in the desert, after miscalculating how much water he'd need to reach the remote village where she and her human mother lived. Since Plants grow faster than humans during their first year, she had appeared to be a preadolescent human child when she and her human mother had found him.
Somehow, in the process of nursing him back to health, she and her human mother had both come to love him. Their gentle affection had worked as a balm to many of the wounds in his soul. It hurt when the old lady had died. He'd taken Shyla to the Seeds ship village after that loss. Aside from occasional visits, he'd expected that would be that.
Yet it hadn't ended thus. Instead of growing apart, they seemed to keep growing closer no matter how long he was away.
She'd gradually grown into his heart, too. He wasn't quite sure when or how, but during the near-century that he'd known her, Shyla had become as dear to him as Rem.
Loving anyone, so much, meant risking intense pain if they were lost. He knew about losses. Nicholas D. Wolfwood's premature death remained the most painful.
The old Seeds doctor, Luida, Brad, Livio, the insurance girls and so many others who had once been friends now slept quietly beneath the desert sands. Thankfully, most of them had enjoyed full lives and died of natural causes.
"How much longer till we get there?" the older boy whined.
"We should be there in time for dinner," Vash estimated. "It's still a bit of a hike, though. So keep your chin up, soldier!"
The boy saluted, and his parents smiled. They continued walking toward the town.
He should reach the Seeds village outpost by late evening, after leading the family to a reputable hotel in the nearest town. There would be letters waiting for him at the outpost. He looked forward to reading those, especially the one from Shyla. She was always his most faithful correspondent. He tried to send letters regularly to her, too.
Although he still wandered alone, he had family. Rem, Shyla, and the Seeds ship village people were all parts of his life. And they all seemed to care about him, whether he deserved it or not. He never felt completely alone anymore. Not in the way that he had before gaining these friends and family.
Things were looking up in other ways, too. Eleven years had passed since the day when he dressed a corpse strongly resembling himself in his own red coat. He had officially been declared "dead." The bounty on his head was awarded to those who shot that poor fellow.
He was beginning to believe that the ruse with the corpse had worked completely. The freedom from hostile pursuit, that he'd craved for so long, might soon be his to enjoy.
His thoughts abruptly took a more solemn turn.
He understood being "wanted" after the July tragedy. Such devastation, waste, and loss of life – he understood that they had wanted someone to pay for that, even before he remembered what had happened. After he remembered, well... for a while, he'd almost wanted them to catch him.
His body had been used, entirely against his will. Was that how women felt, when men forced their bodies to do things they didn't want? If it was at all similar, he could fully understand their devastation.
If it weren't for the memory of Rem forbidding him to give up, he might have given up. He'd faltered and nearly fallen, even with those memories of Rem's love to strengthen him.
The blessing of Rem's return had come with a difficult day where he had needed to tell her about Knives. To his astonishment, she did not blame him for either July or the hole in the fifth moon. She, Shyla, and even Luida, had blamed Knives for both of those disasters.
In his own mind and heart, he'd always loved his brother deeply. He'd always considered his twin so much a part of himself that he'd felt equally responsible for both of their parts in those two tragedies.
To his astonishment, Rem had scolded him for trying to carry Knives' sins. Shyla had agreed completely.
His first thought was to be grateful that they loved him enough to want to take his part.
Yet, over time, he slowly came to realize that his love for Knives had clouded his own judgment. He and Knives had always been two people, not two extensions of one person. What deeds Knives had chosen to do were, as Rem declared, his own choices and not Vash's responsibility.
There was something liberating in realizing that they were right about that. He was not the only one to blame for Knives' sins. He was, perhaps, partly responsible... but neither fully nor equally accountable.
It was possible that he could have done better in preventing his brother from many of the evils he had either committed or encouraged in others. However, Knives had chosen the path he pursued on his own. None should hold anyone else accountable for that choice.
That conversation with Rem and Shyla had happened seventy-three years ago. It took him a few years to completely process it, and fully accept the justice of their view. Had it been anyone else, other than himself and his twin, he might have taken their view from the beginning.
He still carried the weight of his own sins, and those were heavy enough. Rem and Shyla had forgiven him for everything they knew about, which seemed a strange contradiction. He still could not forgive himself. Yet they both forgave him, and loved him anyway.
Are women stronger than men? Most people didn't think so. Perhaps the strength is equal, but in different areas. It was something to ponder, during future walks when he didn't have a family with children in his care.
He set aside other thoughts, and focused on enjoying the journey and the occasional lighthearted chatter of the family he accompanied.
…
He'd estimated their arrival time with fair accuracy. He took them to a hotel with a good reputation, and pointed out a café that served better than average food. They thanked him and paid him. He put half the wages into the hands of the hotel clerk, and said that was to pay for their room. The man nodded, and Vash left the building.
It took him two and a half hours after leaving the town to reach the Seeds outpost. "Hello?" he called, knocking on the door.
"Ah, come in," the sentinel said. "We'd hoped you might arrive today."
He gratefully accepted the glass of water offered. Fresher water was so welcome, after too many mouthfuls of canteen-flavored liquid. It beat dying in the desert, but 'canteen' definitely was not his favorite flavor.
"Thank you," he said again. "I don't see your wife, Ed. Is she in town today?"
"No, she's entertaining our guest," he replied. "She seems to be enjoying having another woman around to talk with."
"Lady guest, eh?" He opened himself to sense Plant emotions, and found that Shyla's troubled feelings felt about where she should be, in the Seeds village. Why was she feeling so troubled? Unfortunately, he was too far away to do anything about that except to write her an encouraging letter.
"Yes," Ed verified. "Our guest has been here for a month, waiting for you to show up."
Vash was puzzled. Who would be so determined to see him that she'd wait a month? Neither Lumia nor Larissa would be likely to arrive so far ahead of schedule. "Well," he said, "now you have me curious."
"She might not forgive me if I delayed bringing you," Ed said, grinning and handing over the letters Vash had expected. "Come on."
Vash followed Ed to the living quarters, and saw Ed's wife wave a greeting. He responded in kind, while the woman originally seated with her back to him stood up and turned.
"Rem!" he said, delighted.
"Vash," she said. "It's good to see you." She was hugging him before he had time to think of anything else to say or do.
As a Plant, he should have better reflexes than an ordinary human. However, sometimes, he could be sufficiently surprised that those reflexes were almost useless. He hugged her back, enjoying again the reality that she was safe, alive, and whole.
"We need to talk," she said softly into his ear, before disengaging from the hug.
He nodded.
"Well, the wife and I need to tend some things," Ed said, making a polite excuse. Bless the man for his courtesy!
"We'll see you later," his wife said, smiling, as she left the room.
"Thank you again," Vash said as Ed stepped out through the door and closed it behind him.
He turned toward Rem. "Ok, what has you awake and all the way out here?" he said. "I'm delighted to see you, as always, but you sounded serious."
"It is serious," Rem said. She gestured to the chairs. "We may as well be comfortable as we talk, though."
He sat where she indicated, and waited.
"I came to talk with you because..." she began. It took her little time to outline the situation, and he hung his head.
"I had no idea," he said softly. "I'll come to the village as soon as possible."
"Thank you," she said, sounding relieved. "I suspected that nobody had said anything."
He reached out and squeezed Rem's hand. "I'm sorry," he said.
She smiled. "Just make it right," she said. "I know you will find a way."
He smiled back, feeling less confident than she sounded.