Done for a LiveJournal challenge with a Halloween theme. Based on an idea by AnonymousTrigunOtaku.
Disclaimer: Trigun belongs to Yasuhiro Nightow and Pioneer Entertainment, not to me.
Obligatory Reminder: Male/male relationship implied, but it's very mild.
Day of the Dead
I am looking at him again, sitting out there on the porch, watching the other sun set. He has a contemplative look on his face. I am worried, because sometimes he gets sad when he thinks too much.
I sit next to him and try to pass him a beer, but he pushes my hand away. This may be rough.
"It's almost November, Nick. It's supposed to be fall. It should be getting colder, and there should be apples."
The calendar was randomly started when someone finally thought about it, and with constant parching summer it doesn't really matter. But he knows that better than I do.
"Have to look to people for your seasons on Gunsmoke, tongari. Halloween's coming soon though."
He shakes his head.
"I don't believe in Halloween," he says.
I shrug. "I thought you believed in any excuse to have fun, Vash. It's just kids in costumes coming around for candy and all that."
"It's
a day to celebrate death," he mutters.
"Yeah, they
still do that, some people who remember. The Day of the Dead.
Picnics in the cemeteries and little candy skulls and..."
He's turning toward me now, angry. "Who the hell needs that? Don't we have enough death here?"
I grip his arm. "Easy now, Vash, it's not all about people who got killed. It's people's relatives, and their friends. Everybody dies."
He's reaching out like he wants to push me away.
"Nick, it isn't funny. When you're dead, that's it. There's no second chance, no way to change."
"That's why you have to do the best you can while you're alive, I guess."
"When you're dead, there's nothing left."
"I don't know about that, Vash, didn't she teach you about the soul?" I'm not supposed to mention her but in his anger he doesn't notice.
"Don't get all churchman on me all of a sudden. What the hell do you really know about souls either?"
I am gripping both his shoulders now, staring at him, wondering if I can do something about these doubts. Doubts are not what this man is about, and they'll kill him.
"I believe I have a soul. I believe that much, Vash."
He shakes his head again. "What about me, do I?"
It takes a minute to hit me. He is talking about the subject that should never be mentioned. What he is that I'm not.
"You must. Wouldn't make any sense, otherwise."
I feel him relax a little, and I try to steer him into the house.
"Vash, forget the damn theology! Come inside, there's beer, there's the couch, there's whatever you want."
I get him through the door but he is still talking.
"OK, yeah, so maybe I have a soul. But maybe I'm not even sure I'm supposed to die at all. What happens to me, Nick?"
"If you don't die?"
"Yeah, if I don't. One way or another, if something doesn't get me, I'll be alive, and you'll be dead."
Is that what this is about now, that he is going to miss me personally? I pull him roughly toward me. "Ah hell, Vash, I don't know. On this planet, nobody knows how long they have. If I go first, you'll get drunk every night and shoot up every town on Gunsmoke until it's your turn. We'll meet in heaven, and I'll look out for you until you get there."
He has his arms around me, the fake one digging into the small of my back, and he stares at me. "She really never did mention souls. She was just about life."
"Sometimes maybe it is about death, and laughing at it if we can, Vash... but enough philosophy for now."
He doesn't look quite ready to smile yet, but he is peaceful now. He puts his head on my shoulder and murmurs "Enough."
