The bulk of this story occurs several years before the manga or anime begin.

Note: I do not own Trigun or "Vash the Stampede": they belong to the incomparable Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

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The Second Man

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Chapter 7: Wounds

Year 0092 month 2 day 12, later

We followed Mrs. Turner to her wagon. One of her daughters sat on the seat with her, and the other sat on the bench that faced backward and was attached to the wagon just behind the seat.

I led Vash to the back of the wagon, to the tail end behind the chairs. We could have sat on the bench with Rita Turner, but I arranged it the way I did so that I could speak with him privately. We got onto the wagon, leaving the tail gate down, and dangled our feet over the end.

When the wagon started moving, I laid my good hand on Vash's shoulder and spoke softly to him.

"I know that you only wanted to help," I said. In the few days that I'd known him, I had learned that much about him.

"It's a kindly thought," I continued, "but it would not have been appreciated. Besides, you've done and suffered enough. We don't want you hurting yourself, again, for those who can no longer be helped."

He nodded, but he didn't look up from his contemplation of the ground passing beneath us. Fresh tears dripped off his face.

"I understand," he said. "I just wish that I had done more to save them."

"I'm sure you did the best you could," I said gently. "You're only human. There's only so much that any of us can do, when something like that happens."

"You are," he said sadly. "I'm not."

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused.

"It's not important," he said.

"We're friends, right?" I said.

"Yes," he said. He looked toward me, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Then what's important to you is also important to me," I said.

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. "Good point," he said softly. "But, please, I really don't want to talk about that right now."

"Okay," I said. I squeezed his shoulder gently, and then let go.

Shortly after that, we arrived at the church. There were so many mouth-watering aromas coming from it that it was impossible to guess what foods awaited us. Sweet, salty and savory… every type of appetizing scent was borne on the wind.

Everyone got off of the wagon and went inside. We found one table crowded with dishes containing all kinds of food, and other tables that were empty but surrounded by chairs.

The ladies invited Vash to the head of the line approaching the food-laden table. He caught my arm as they pulled him forward, so that I went forward with him. We each took a plate, and stepped to different sides of the buffet table.

I carefully balanced my plate on my left forearm, and began taking small samples of each dish and putting them onto it. I'd hobble a step or two until I could reach the next few items, and take small samples of each of them. I glanced across the table to see that Vash was doing much the same thing, though his helpings were a bit larger… until we reached Mrs. Epstein's contribution.

I saw his eyes light up at the sight of the two large platters piled high with doughnuts.

"Doughnuts!" he said, and immediately took as many as his plate would hold.

I could hear the other ladies and girls giggling or snickering, but I only smiled at him. It felt good to see him so delighted by something, even if it was only a pastry.

I saw him find a place to sit and eat nearby. I also saw that he was quickly surrounded by pretty girls who were all a little older than I. Opal and Ruby Jensen were among them.

I sighed wistfully, and finished filling my plate. It had been silly of me to hope that I could sit and eat near him. I hobbled carefully to my usual spot in the far corner, where as few people as possible were likely to notice me.

Thankfully, with Vash attracting everyone's attention, it was unlikely that anyone would notice me at all. I put my tableware down, and then took my plate off my left forearm and put it on the table, too. I pulled out the chair and sat down. I bowed my head, briefly offering up silent thanks, and then I began to eat.

When I had eaten a little more than half of the food on my plate, a movement caught my attention. Vash was standing up, and looking around. He smiled when he saw me, and I smiled back before lowering my face to hide the blush I felt heating my cheeks.

When I looked up again, I saw that he had returned to the food table. He was saying something to a few of the ladies, who gestured toward the food, nodded and smiled. He nodded back at them, and then began moving along the buffet table again.

His movements told me that he was getting second helpings. This time, he walked the whole length of the table and it looked like he took samples of the offerings beyond the doughnuts.

Several of the girls followed him. When he turned back toward the tables designated for eating, I noticed that his plate again had more doughnuts than anything else. He smiled at me again, and then began walking toward me.

My jaw dropped, and the fork full of food stopped short of reaching my mouth. He kept right on coming toward me. I smiled at him again, and then took the bite off my fork.

He put his plate down across the table from me. "Hello, Martha," he said, smiling, "I missed you." He held up one index finger, and then turned and walked away.

He returned to the area across the room where the food was offered, and returned with two glasses of water. He put one glass by my plate, another by his, and sat down. He smiled and began eating.

The other girls had followed him, some with plates of their own and others empty-handed. Some crowded around the end of the table where we sat, and others stationed themselves nearby along both sides. They ignored me completely, and chattered at him or with each other.

I smiled at him, murmured thanks for the water, and then lowered my face to minimize the appearance of the inevitable blush. I resumed eating my own lunch, pausing occasionally to drink some of the water he'd brought.

As before, he ate steadily without saying anything in reply to the chatter or inquiries directed at him. He might nod, or shake his head, or shrug, or smile, but he didn't speak to them.

He did catch my eye, once, and say, "These doughnuts are very good! My compliments to the baker."

I smiled at him, and then nodded, and then looked down at my own nearly empty plate.

Other girls exclaimed, each apparently assuming he was speaking to her. They chattered for a short while about how Mrs. Epstein ran one of the local cafés. Hers contained a small bakery, and her pastries were a favorite treat.

When I finished eating, I stood up to take my plate, cup, and eating utensils to the kitchen downstairs. That's where potluck dishes always went, to be washed by the people assigned to cleaning up.

However, I'd barely hobbled two steps when Ruby Jensen tripped and pushed me, hard, toward the outside wall. What flashed through my mind, as I saw the window looming closer, was to wonder if she'd pushed me hard enough to break the glass… or if I'd only get bruised this time.

To my surprise, I heard Vash say, "No!" and then I felt his left arm around my waist. He pulled me away from the window, and tried to catch me, but we overbalanced and fell together onto our left sides on the floor.

There was a collective gasp, and then a brief silence, from everyone nearby.

He grunted, and I heard his breath hiss between his teeth. "Ouch!" he said.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Are you?" he said tensely.

"I think so, but I asked first," I said.

"I'll… live," he said.

I rolled away from him, and pried myself up to a sitting position using my left elbow and right hand. I had to push against the skirts of some of the other girls to make room for myself on the floor.

He was holding his right hand against his right side, where his ribs were broken and where the doctors had operated. His face was far paler than it had been a moment ago.

"Let me see," I said gently.

His initial response was only a pleading look, and a slight head shake.

"Let me see," I said again, more firmly this time.

He grimaced and closed his eyes, but this time he moved his hand and arm away from his side. I carefully lifted the right side of his vest, and saw a bright red spot spreading about where his stitches from the surgery were likely to be.

If that much blood had soaked through both his bandages and his shirt…

"Oh, no!" I said. "You shouldn't have done that!"

"Those windows have very thin glass," he said, still grimacing. His words came more slowly, probably because the pain of his injury was increasing. "If it broke, it might blind you. I couldn't let that happen. I had to do something."

I'd nearly lost an eye before, when I acquired the crescent-shaped scar that curled around my right eye. Thankfully, that circle was incomplete and the eye had been missed.

"Thank you, V-friend," I said.

I felt terrible. I had come so near to slipping up and breaking my promise: I'd almost said his name, in public!

I also felt incredibly worried and guilty – he was hurt, because of me.

I reached out with my good hand, and gently took hold of his natural hand. I pulled his hand forward so that it could rest by my lap without making his arm cover the part of his side where he was bleeding. I did not let go of his hand.

He opened his eyes, and tried to smile, but the pain made his face grimace again.

"It hurts," he said, in a bewildered tone much like I'd heard very young children say it. He wasn't really complaining as much as stating a fact.

"Somebody!" I shouted, "Please, help! He's been hurt!"

I was surprised that all the girls surrounding us had remained still, and mostly quiet, and simply stared. Nobody had gone for help, and nobody else had yelled for help.

My shout brought some of the women, instead of only the girls. It also brought a few of the men who had begun to trickle into the church, after they'd finished with the graves and washed up.

Ike was among the men who came. He pushed aside some of the gawking girls, and knelt behind Vash. He rested one hand gently on Vash's bicep.

"What happened?" Ike said. He was using his "I'm the Sheriff, and you better have a good answer or else you're in serious trouble" voice.

Vash opened his eyes and gasped, "Ruby tripped Martha… and pushed her." Then he closed his eyes, grunted "ouch," and clenched his teeth as he grimaced again.

Ruby found her voice. "I did no such thing," she said haughtily. "He must be mistaken. Peg-she's so clumsy! She probably just tripped on her own."

"Shut up," Ike said to Ruby. He shifted his gaze to me. "Martha, spare him the pain of talking," he said. "Tell me what happened."

I looked down at Vash. He opened his eyes, and looked at me. I saw an expectation in those eyes that I simply could not bear to disappoint.

"He's right," I said softly. "Ruby tripped me, and pushed me toward the window. He worried that if it broke, the sharp edges might damage my eyes. So… well, I'm not sure how he did it, since he came from behind, but he caught me and changed the direction of my fall. It looks like that exertion broke the stitches from his surgery. Now he's bleeding."

Ike sighed and pinched his own nose between his eyes. "Someone get Mil— no," he corrected himself, sounding sad, "she can't come." He sighed again.

"Someone get a bottle of the strongest whiskey in the saloon," Ike said firmly, "and get Ruth to come and stitch him back together. The rest of you, go on about your business."

People began to disperse, if reluctantly. I started to back away, with intent to stand up and leave. But Vash pulled weakly at my hand, and Ike caught my shoulder.

I stopped trying to back away, and both men seemed to relax. I stayed with Vash and Ike, while nearly everyone else left. Sally stood behind Ike, looking concerned.

"Please tell me the truth, Martha," Ike said. "Is this the first time that Ruby has tripped or pushed you?"

"Probably not," Sally said. She sounded somewhat annoyed, which was moderately unusual for her. "Martha always had far more 'accidents' at school than at any other time. That's why we pulled her out, and had the teachers send the work home. Getting out of the schoolhouse improved her grades, when she didn't have to worry about getting hurt there anymore."

I looked up at Sally, astonished. I had no idea that she'd ever suspected, until now.

"I see," Ike said to Sally. Then he looked at me again, and gently jostled my shoulder to get my attention. "Martha, talk to me," he said softly. "Tell me. Please."

Vash squeezed my hand three times.

I gathered my courage and said softly, "Almost everybody at the school has either tripped me, or pushed me, or sometimes both." I shrugged dismissively. "It happened a lot."

Ike sighed and shook his head. "Can you tell me who hasn't?" he said.

"The teachers didn't," I said. "The ones three or more grades younger hadn't started school before I left. The MacDonald twins, Cindy and Ella, were usually too busy playing by themselves. I don't think that Fred ever picked on me, nor his sisters, either…" My voice faded away. At the moment, I couldn't think of anybody else.

"Did anyone trip or push you more than most of the others?" he said, still talking much more gently than I was used to hearing him address me.

"Well…" I said, hesitating.

I felt heat in my face, and looked down at Vash. His eyes were closed, and his face still contorted in pain.

He squeezed my hand three times, again. I didn't know how he managed to be so gentle, given how much pain he must be suffering.

"Please," Ike said, encouragingly.

"Ruby," I said slowly, "Gilda, Lois, Iva, Hattie, Reggie, Boris, and Quentin will hit, kick, trip, throw something, or push me nearly every time they see me. That was happening even before we ever started going to school. Sometimes they dare others to do it, instead, but one of them is always around when anybody hits, kicks, trips, pushes, or throws things at me."

Vash squeezed my hand once. I hoped that meant he approved. I'd only told the truth, but it had a sour taste in my mouth. It was very difficult to say those things.

"O my God," Ike said softly.

His words sounded like a sincere prayer, which puzzled me. Normally, when he said something like that, it was spoken in anger. I looked up at him, confused.

"Thank you, Martha," he said, even more gently. "Let's take care of this man. Then I will look into the other matter."

"Are you considering making arrests?" Sally said, sounding curious.

"I can't arrest all the kids roughly Martha's age," he said, "but I can put the fear of God into them. This man is correct. Martha might have been blinded. We never should have let things go so far that it could come to this. Ruby, and some of those others she named, may face a stiffer penalty than a mere scolding."

I looked at him, my eyes wide with fear. "No!" I said. "Please, don't…"

Ike reached out to me and rested his hand on my shoulder, which made me fall silent. He gazed at me for a long time.

Finally he said, "I'm sorry, Martha. I… haven't always been as gentle toward you as I should have. You're family, but I haven't been much of a brother to you. I was wrong, and I have no excuse. I'll try to do right by you, though, from now on."

He squeezed my shoulder again, and then he let go and stood up.

"Where are Ruth and that whiskey?" he demanded loudly.

Sally started to kneel, a slow and cumbersome process while she was so late in her pregnancy. Ike caught her shoulder and shook his head.

"We will take care of him," he said. "You get away, so that you don't get sick."

She looked mildly displeased at first, but then she looked down at her bulging stomach and smoothed her hands over it.

"Okay," she said softly. She straightened and slowly walked away.

"Let's get his shirt open," Ike said to me, "and start unwrapping his bandages."

I helped Ike until Ruth arrived. She had the whiskey, plus a needle, thread, scissors, and clean bandages.

Ike took the bottle from her, and spoke to Vash.

"I don't know your name, son," he said, 'but I think you know what needs to happen. Some of this whiskey goes inside of you, to help dull the pain. Some will go outside, to keep the wound clean. It's going to hurt like hell, though, even with you half drunk and Ruth trying to be gentle."

Vash nodded, opened his eyes, and reached for the bottle. He carefully drank a little less than a quarter of its contents, before extending the bottle back toward Ike.

"Are you sure that's all you want?" Ike said. "You might want to be more drunk than that, with as much as this is going to hurt."

"Don't want to throw up," Vash said. "That'd hurt, too."

By that time, we had his shirt unbuttoned and laid open. We cut away his bandages.

"Okay," Ike said. "Ruth, please do what's needed." He stood up and backed away.

Ruth nodded and knelt where he had been.

She owned the mercantile, and had become the best seamstress in town… since Mildred was gone. She soon had Vash's wound stitched back together, though the process made her face look uncommonly pale.

Sometime during that process, Vash passed out.

She gently felt of his ribs, re-bandaged him, and buttoned his shirt back together.

"His ribs feel firm," she said, sounding relieved. "Since he didn't land on that side, the work done at the hospital to hold them in place while they heal is probably fine. Most likely, he just moved wrong, perhaps twisting too much, and that tore open his wound."

"Thank you, Ruth," Ike said. "I really appreciate your help."

She nodded, stood, and walked away.

Ike said, "Wait here with him, Martha. I'll get Bob, and we'll get him into the wagon."

As promised, Ike took us home in his wagon. Vash lay in the back, and I sat beside him. Bob rode shotgun. When we reached the house, they carried Vash inside and up the stairs.

They worked together to get Vash's clothes off, stripping him down to his bandages and his underwear. Then they lay him flat on the bed, and pulled some of the blankets over him.

I took his bloodied clothes downstairs. I set the washtub on the counter beside the sink, and set the clothes into the washtub. I took the biggest bowl I could hold and filled it with water, and then poured the water into the washtub. I repeated that process, until the washtub had enough water in it that all of his clothes were either submerged or floating. Then I poured laundry soap into the washtub and stirred it.

Those clothes should soak for a while, so I returned upstairs.

Ike and Bob were still in the room with Vash, who still slept. They turned toward me when they heard me. I stood in the doorway, concerned.

"I don't know if he'll wake tonight," Bob said.

"My sister will bring dinner later," Ike said. "It's her turn. Hopefully she'll have the sense to bring it in a manner that will permit him to eat later. I'll send Dusty home tonight, too, so you won't be alone if this man needs anything."

I nodded.

Bob sighed, and stood. "I suppose we'd best get going," he said, "if Seamus and I are going to get those bank robbers hauled to December, and return in time to have a decent night's sleep."

"Aye," Ike said, and then he stood up also. "Martha, I'm sorry that we won't be able to spare anyone to stay with you tomorrow. With the robbers in December, though, Dusty can be here at night. I'll begin looking into that other matter, too."

"They'll say I lied," I said softly.

"That's to be expected," Ike said. He surprised me with a friendly smile. "However, the way you've been so quiet about it all these years, and the fact that it took this man seeing it happen to pry the information out of you, I won't believe them if they call you a liar."

I felt heat in my face again, and looked down. "I wouldn't lie about something like that, Ike," I said.

"If I'd been paying attention, like I should have," Ike said, "I should already have known that about you. I'm sorry that I didn't."

I shrugged. I didn't know what to say.

"Try to get some rest, while he's sleeping," Ike said. "He may want your company later, when he wakes."

I nodded.

"Goodnight," Bob said.

"Goodnight," I said.

Each man shook my hand, and then left the room and went downstairs. I heard them leave the house, close the door behind them, and then drive away in the wagon.

I stood for a time, looking at Vash and silently praying for him. Finally, I said softly, "Get better, please."

I turned and hobbled across the hall to my room. I changed out of my good clothes and into dark-colored comfortable clothes. I figured that something dark-colored wouldn't show much if it got rumpled while I slept in it.

I saw some blood on the blouse I'd just taken off. I figured there might be some on the darker vest and skirt, also. So I took my clothes downstairs, and put them into the washtub with Vash's.

I grabbed the handle of the washtub on the far side of the sink, and poured most of the water out into the sink. Then, using the bowl again, I poured fresh water into the washtub. I added soap again, and stirred it again.

Leaving them to soak, I returned upstairs and took Ike's advice.