Vash slouched on a weathered bench outside the east entrance of March's hospital. He'd have been starting his second shift at that time of day, but after recovering she'd insisted on getting a job at the hospital. The money was better, after all. Knives had argued against it. But when Vanessa pleaded her case and kissed him lightly on the lips, Knives' disapproval quieted.

"Don't let her come to harm, I warn you, brother," Knives had threatened his brother in mind. "You would be eternally sorry."

He needn't ask. Vash accompanied her from the inn to the hospital every day, and made sure to be waiting on this bench each afternoon. She was never alone in the street.

Vash used his lunch breaks to visit a target range at the edge of town, saved a little extra cash to buy bullets. Though nowhere near the perfection he'd reached as a ace gunman in his prime when he'd practiced more and consistently, he felt pretty sure of himself again.

He shifted his holster and stretched back against the bench. His back ached a bit, and not just from being on his feet all day; he'd volunteered to take the floor every night. Anything to stay between them.

He spotted her walking into the sunlight and put up a hand in greeting. "How was today?"

"Good." She hugged her leather medical pouch against her chest, the light glinting on her braids. "I'm doing good things."

"Are you using the book?" he asked, cautioning.

Sighing, she took the seat beside him. "Sometimes. Don't worry, I'm careful. There's privacy in a hospital, less religion. They won't notice."

"I hope not," he agreed. "Now, you've told me you apprenticed to learn medicine, but how did you become interested in it in the first place?"

"I guess, overhearing the scientists wanting to to open me up back when I was small, I've been interested in the anatomy and the workings of people and things."

"Open you up?" he repeated, confused.

"Huh. I keep forgetting you don't already know all of this. Hard to keep straight, that I know your memories, but you don't know mine.

"After they took me out of the bulb, my eyes didn't do well except in low light, and I couldn't speak yet. I'm not sure why, but they kept me in a room with a lot of books. I read them all. They laughed at me, thought I was looking for pictures. They spoke openly of their plans to vivisect. They weren't like Rem. One night, I snuck away.

"About the time I started creating these designs, I had my hump removed. I looked human enough to get better work, and I tried my hand at several trades, but medicine suits me. It's the great equalizer. Everybody's the same when they're in pain, when they're sick, when they're broken. Even if I looked strange on the outside, I had the same inner parts they did. So, I was born into an interest in anatomy; treating people is the kindest way to leverage that talent.

"Long answer," she admitted, shrugging.

Vash remembered the 'less kind' ways she said she'd used her book. He peered over his orange-tinted sunglasses. "Who deserves cancer?"

"The correct answer is nobody."

"I just wish I understood why you would," he asked softly.

She paused, frowning. "Ok...Here's the last time I was going to do it.

"About fifty years ago, I was staying just outside Augusta." She leaned back against the bench, shielding her eyes from the sun. "The hospital only gave me weekend shifts so I worked during the week as an assistant to a tailor. The man made me uncomfortable but I thought I could handle it. I was in the back room one day adjusting the pins in my hair, and the tailor came up behind me. Whatever he meant to do, he saw my ear and that made him think. People already found me strange. So the guy told me if I slept with him, he wouldn't tell them I was the daughter of the devil. I refused and quit. Decided I'd find another job in town.

"In the middle of the night, I was dragged out of bed by rough hands. Some men dragged me off to a barn. The tailor was there, saying I put spells on him. So did another man I didn't recognize. A bunch of folk had trickled in, probably woken up by the noise. They wanted a confession, they said. One guy had a pair of pliers and he tore out one of my fingernails. He started to tug out another and he said he'd stop if I just admitted what I was, then it'd all be over. If I didn't they'd keep 'trying me' – that's what they called it – till I confessed. Two fingernails later, I was screaming that I'd send the devil himself after them if they didn't let me go.

"Most of the audience went off to bed at that point, leaving my punishment to the handful of men who stayed. They tied my hands to the wall and encouraged the tailor to 'take revenge,' so he took out a pair of shears and he squeezed my breast and he stabbed me, here; punctured my lung," she muttered matter-of-fact, waving her finger at her chest. "They paced around, and would just fly at me all the sudden and hit me or slap me. It was like they were waiting for a cue. So, when the red-headed guy started to pull my clothes off of me, well..." she trailed off for a moment. "Four of them raped me. The last one took out an old knife and cut me with it while he had his turn. I guess it made some of them uncomfortable, how bloody it was getting, because most of them left about then. When the guy was done, he called me a slut. He went over to his buddies, wiping his hands on a rag, and they started talking about where to dump my body. They said a gunshot to the head was too good for me, weren't sure how to do me in yet. By then, I'd worked one of the boards loose, and they hadn't noticed. I yanked off the board, and I barely remember slamming one of them across the head with it. He fell against another of them. I ran to a toma shed and rode off into the desert.

"They didn't follow me for very long. For days, I just kept riding till the toma tired out, and I walked, and walked. I knew where that cave was, had enough supplies there to recover.

"When I was able, I went back there with my book, to give those men cancer. I couldn't find them but I didn't want to risk being seen so I gave up," she muttered. "And I haven't been to Augusta since."

Vash sat silent.

"We need to get dinner. It's nearly second sunset."

"That's...It's so…" Vash whispered, his words sticking to his tongue.

She turned toward him. "Well, you asked-"

His face was wet. "Could you give me a minute?" he asked softly, staring off, blinking hard behind the orange glass lenses.

Vanessa nodded, waiting till he stood, taking lead to order noodles 'to go' at a place nearby. Wordlessly, Vash carried the warm, little boxes. They made their way back to the inn. He stood back as she went to the front desk to pay for another week in the double, and asked for a key to a single for a week as well.

She started up the steps.

OXO

Vash set the boxes on a stair and touched her arm. When she turned, he put his arms out to embrace her, pausing to gauge permission first. She nodded, and he held her there, where no one could see. "You're not alone anymore," he whispered, squeezing her gently. It was no wonder, he thought, she was so adamant that sex was only sex, that it was no special thing. It must make it easier for her, given what she'd been through.

A gunshot rang out in the street, snapping him from his thoughts. Vash's nudged her toward the stair, head craning back. "Stay here," he ordered, dashing down and out of sight.

Vash rushed out into the street, blending in with the other people agape at the scene unfolding. They all stared at a woman who looked like someone's mother, complete with apron and everything, holding a handgun to a man's forehead. The man was bleeding from his side, clutching at the wound as he tried unsuccessfully to rise. "Mary, you crazy bitch," he growled at her.

"She's your daughter, you slime!" she was screaming at him, her face red, her arms shaking. "And you go and tell everybody what you did to her; now it's not a secret, how's she gonna marry? Tell her you're sorry before I kill you, you bastard!"

"You don't know shit," he sneered back. "Mind your own kids! What's my business is-"

"She's your daughter!" Mary wailed, putting her other hand around the handle of the pistol.

Vash felt someone lean close to his ear. "Aren't you going to stop this?" Vanessa whispered frantically. "Look, he's bleeding out, I need to-"

"Stay back, Vanessa." Vash stared sadly at the girl behind Mary. She couldn't be a day past ten, pretty, with cropped, curly brown hair. The girl's eyes were full of hate, and if she'd been upset to watch her father about to die, she was hiding it very well.

OXO

Mary shifted her aim from the man's head to his crotch and fired. A wail of pain rang out, and all the men watching winced. Though Mary'd missed, the man now bled from his upper thigh. The pistol trained on his temple again, the hand holding it steadier. "She's your daughter..."

Vanessa pressed her palms against Vash's back, but he didn't budge. She heard him breathe in sharply, and a thunderclap hit her ears. Eyes trained on the street, she saw Mary clutching at her bloody hand. Vash stepped away. He dashed past Mary to grab the pistol from the ground.

The curly-haired girl had been running at it but wasn't fast enough. "Give it back, I have to finish this," Mary begged him.

Medical bag tucked under her arm, Vanessa rushed to the man's side. She probed the abdominal wound with her fingers.

"Vanessa, I told you to stay back," Vash murmured, walking toward her.

"Help me stop the bleeding, I need-"

"Let him die!" Mary screamed, as the girl crouched beside her.

"If he does, you're a murderer," Vanessa growled, "A murderer can't help that girl." She determined the small caliber pistol had shot clean through. She wound thick medical tape around his gut and his leg, then pressed on the wounds.

The shrill cry of a child filled the air. Vash had grabbed the girl around her chest, a switchblade falling from her little hands into the dust beside Vanessa. The girl was screaming not to touch her, and when Vash did as told, she ran back to hug Mary.

Vanessa's eyes met Vash's for a second, sending a chill down her spine. Hanging his head, Vash knelt on the other side of the now-unconscious man. His hands pressed against her wet fingers, down against the man's wounds. Vanessa replayed in her head, over and over, how long it'd taken for Vash to act.

Paramedics rushed in to carry the now-unconscious man away. The pair stepped aside and sunk back into the receding crowd. Vanessa wasn't surprised no one thanked them.

"Let's get cleaned up," she suggested, touching her sticky palms together. Vash followed her up the stairs and down the hall to the communal bathroom. They stood at the sink and took turns scrubbing with soap, till the water ran clear.

Knives' heavy footfalls entered the room. He scowled at them both in turn. "Are you hurt."

"We're fine, no big deal." Vanessa dried her hands on one end of a fresh towel, Vash at the other. "I am so hungry..." Seeing their confused expressions, she added, "What? I've bloodied my hands many times before."

Vash shook his head. "Still, the-"

"Don't put her so close to danger," Knives interrupted, poking at his chest with an accusing finger.

"I told her to stay back," Vash argued, voice hinting at anger. "She's safe. As promised. I saw you watching from the window, not doing anything to-"

"To help the humans? I'd have let it happen, but you had to be the hero. Ridiculous. When I saw Vanessa involve herself I was about to join you, but I trusted you."

"And I didn't let you down. Did I."

"Thankfully, no."

"Dinner?" she interrupted, brushing past them to retrieve their food from the stair. She laid everything out on the end table and brought a forkfull of noodles into her mouth, watching them file in.

Knives closed the door, took up his box, and sat beside her on the bed. They ate quietly as Vash stared out the window, down at the street.

"Did you rent another room as I'd asked," Knives muttered between bites.

She nodded, setting the key on the table beside Vash's cooling dinner.

"Good, now Vanessa can have her own-"

"Vash, it's for you," Knives interrupted, chuckling.

"No way I'm-"

"Yes, Vash, you are," she argued, tossing him the key, which he caught in the air. "We were thinking, it's time you distanced yourself from us, so you can make your decision about whether you want to join them or us. It's just a couple of rooms away."

"We'll enjoy the guilty luxuries of living here a few more days before returning to the cave," Knives announced, to the surprise of both Vash and Vanessa.

"So soon?" she squeaked.

"I don't relish the thought of you wrist deep in their viscera every day, as it is; today you're doing so in the street, and the blood is that of an incestuous pedophile. Even from the window I can see the lust in the eyes of the men watching you walk past. The very food we eat can be traced back to plant enslavement. I could go on."

Obediently, she clamped her mouth shut. There was no use in arguing, anyway.

Vash knuckled his Colt, tight-lipped. He picked up his duffel and walked out of the room.

After a beat, Vanessa grabbed Vash's box of noodles, explaining aloud, "He'll get hungry eventually..."

He was standing in the hall, turning the key in the lock to the new room. She held out his food. "Everything's going to work out. You'll see."

Vash kept staring into the room. He tossed his bag into the room with a thud. "Shut up, Vanessa."

Standing there, the weight of his dinner seemed too much, and she set it on the floor of the hall between them. She spun round to walk away.

"I want to talk to you," he whispered.

"He's expecting me back. I'll see you on the bench tomorrow, we can-"

"Make him sleep," Vash mouthed, pointing at the book ever at her hip.

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "You told me to never do that again..."

"Changing my mind. Do it, and come to my room. We have to talk."

She nodded, and left him in the hall.

OXO

An hour passed. Sunset passed. Two hours more.

Vash sat in the lone chair in his very small room, waiting with a heavy heart. He'd never left them alone together for this long.

When finally a knock snapped him from his anxious thoughts, he tugged on a cord attached to the door latch to unlock it from where he sat. Lifting his Colt and taking aim at the doorway, he watched the doorknob turn. His aim was on her as Vanessa stepped into the room.