Chapter 25

December Orphanage

Vash took a whiskey bottle from the kitchen pantry, and left a fold of double dollars in its place, then walked out into the moonlight. As exhausted as he was and as sore as his body was, he could not sleep. He walked through the cold night air and pulled his ragged brown cape closer around himself. He crossed the yard of the orphanage to Wolfwood's grave and sat down underneath the cross punisher and rested his head on the tomb. Now that he lay there he did not want to raise his head. But it was his turn to buy a drink. He lifted his head and unscrewed the cap and poured out a glass for Wolfwood and placed it beside the cross carved into the gravestone. He toasted silently to the night skies, then threw back his glass. Ah, yes, that was what he had needed. He closed the bottle and lay his head back on the grave.

"I've got something that will make you laugh." He said with his eyes closed. "Laugh till you cry. I'm in so much trouble now and your help would be good in a fight. 's not my brother this time. Though I don't know where he is. Have you seen him? Is he where you are? Are they treating you well? Have you met Rem?" He felt the prick of tears, and the tickle as they leaked out from under his eyelashes. "I miss you. I miss all who have gone. But you, Wolfwood, I miss you, so bad."

He opened his eyes; they were so thick with tears that the stars were a blur. He blinked. His vision did not clear as more tears came. He lay with his head on the hard stone, as the memories cascaded over him, the laughter, the ragging, the arguments, the way they fought with each other, the way they fought alongside each other, the team they had become. Somewhere in those thoughts, sleep crept up and took him without his being aware.

He woke groggily the next morning as the sun hit his face. His neck cramped as he lifted his head. It felt like he had not moved all night, his whole body was stiff. He blinked dazedly at the hard stone he had used as a pillow. Oh. He had fallen asleep on Wolfwood's grave. The shot glass on the grave was gone. He stared at it where he had placed it. That was a little creepy. He pushed himself into a sitting position and felt something fall down his back. He gave a start and dug in his coat to find out what it was. He turned over the soft square of squishy material. A heat pack? Someone had found him asleep and instead of waking him had dropped a heat pack on his neck? He discovered that that same person had put two thick blankets over him. Had he been so fast asleep that he had not noticed their attentions? He found the whiskey bottle and the two glasses standing neatly on the far side of the cross punisher. Okay. He had his suspicions as to who had done this. He rested his head against the shaft of the cross, and stared up at the sky. What in the world should he do now? His mind was a roaring vortex of possibilities with him standing in the center, the empty space. There were so many ideas, so many options, but no answer came to him. He watched the smoke rising into the blue sky, so thick that they reminded him of the pictures of towering rain clouds he had seen in lessons with Rem so long ago. Smoke? He leaped up and slammed his head against the cross bar of the cross punisher.

"Aaah! Ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Gasping in pain he staggered to his feet and clutched at his head and held onto the large cross, trying to steady himself and his panic. No good panicking.

He left his blankets and whiskey and ran towards the buildings that served as the orphanage. He didn't enter the main building, but instead ran into the church and took the stairs up to the top of the bell tower three at a time. He leaned out of the window in the bell room, and peered out in the dawn light. December was burning, and it looked as though the hills to the north were where the attack was coming from. Then something to the southeast caught his eye. He turned in horror, out some two miles from where the orphanage stood, was a mass of people and tents. But they were not camps for the displaced from December. That was the No Man's Land army. He could see the Fed's flags.

"No. No! Why is this happening?" He called out to the skies. "Why are people suddenly declaring war?"

He fled down the stairs and into the orphanage.

He found Milly helping feed the babies in the kitchen.

"Mister Vash!" She called out. "What's wrong?"

He pulled himself together and smiled at the small faces watching him.

"Livio? Where is his room?"

"I don't know if he'd want to be interrupted this morning, Mister Vash." Milly said blushing slightly. "Why not speak to Abe? He's in the dining hall with Brad's friends."

He was half way through to the dining room by the time he worked out what Milly meant. Then wished he had not, some things were supposed to be private.

He ran through into the dark dining hall, searching among the sleeping figures. Brad sat up, as did a few others as he passed them.

"What's wrong?" Brad asked. His voice roused several more people. He found Abe snoring with his mouth open. The man looked peculiar without his spiked Mohawk; he had tied his striped hair into a ponytail that now splayed across his pillow. Vash crouched down and shook him.

"They're burning December." He did not want to say anything about the army, that would only cause division and panic in such a mixed group.

"What?" Abe yelled and leaped out of bed. Several others hastily climbed out of their blankets and began dressing.

"Shhh!" He hissed at him. "Do you want to frighten the children?"

"Vash, get breakfast started." Brad said. "We're all exhausted. At least we'll all need to eat before we hit the road. And don't panic so much, the people are all out, it is just the city."

"It's just a city?" Abe hissed furiously at him. "It's my damn home!" He suddenly stood still as a shocked expression crossed his face. He tilted his head quizzically to the side and a slow smile of blissful pleasure covered his face.

"It's my home." He blinked dazedly. "I never realized. This is my home now."

"Abe?" Vash asked, worriedly as the man began to cry.

He then began to laugh softly with tears streaming down his face.

"It's been so long since any place has been my home. Leaving the planet you were born on does strange things to the soul."

Vash smiled in empathy. It was why he loved to return to the Seeds ship. There was something about that place that soothed his soul like nothing else.

Abe eyed him.

"You're not a true drifter with that expression." He murmured almost inaudibly. "There is a place for you, even if you cannot stay."

Vash gave an abrupt nod and smiled. The mood he was in he was going to burst into tears right there, and if he did, he did not know if he would ever stop.

"I'm getting breakfast!" Cooking had never been such a welcome distraction.

Meryl woke up with the scuffle of running feet outside the door. Light was sneaking in through the cracks in the shuttered window. She had only had two hours sleep and her head was thick. Milly had folded the blankets she had slept in so they rested neatly on top of her pack. How did that girl manage to get up so early? She then remembered the night before. She had heard the pace of foot falls in the passage and had recognised them instantly. Vash's walk was as distinctive as Milly's. It had been several seconds before she could pull on her leggings and boots and go after him. She'd paused by the kitchen door, then had slipped back inside to sit on the table in the moonlight as he headed for the grave in middle of the orphanage yard. She would allow him his private grief.

When they had arrived earlier that night, Milly had walked directly over to the cross punisher that stood as his headstone and had stood there sobbing. Meryl had felt her heart break at her friend's pain, and had run out and hugged her friend tightly enough to express her love. Milly had first visited the grave on their return to December, before the NLBC had recruited them. She had stood crying then too, the same heart wrenching tears. She had held on to Meryl as if she were her anchor in the sea of grief, as she did now, but this time there wasn't the same aching bitterness to her sorrow. It was a long slow process for her friend, but Meryl felt that Milly was slowly beginning to come out of the bitter depths of her mourning.

The others had awkwardly clustered near the orphanage door when Melanie, the plump housemother who cared for the children, came out to find out who had arrived now and to check their names against the register. She had been hesitant to allow those not listed in, but the moment she had seen Vash she had gaped at him in wonder, then had shifted people around and made space for them all. She had made sure that Vash had a seat at the table and had heaped food on his plate before anyone else's. They had all collapsed into bed soon after the meal. She had been near falling asleep when she had heard his footfalls, Milly had cried herself to exhaustion and slept the soundly.

It was as she almost fell off the table, jerking awake, that she realised Vash was still out there in the freezing cold night air. It was past midnight as she hurried out to him and found him asleep with his head resting on the tomb. He had placed a full shot glass of whiskey on the grave and she saw his own empty glass curled in his hand. The whiskey bottle had rolled slightly away from his slumped form. She watched as a tear trickled down the side of his face. He was crying in his sleep. She put her hand over her mouth; she did not have the heart to wake him. At least in sleep, there was some chance at healing.

She shook herself at that memory. She had wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms and to kiss away his tears and tell him that everything would be well. But that was just it, she could never protect him, nor be his equal, that was not what he wanted and not what he needed. She had no right to selfishly comfort the sorrow he carried. As much as she admired his determination and loved his gentleness, doing so would only confuse him and drive him from her. No, she had worked it out during the many hours of worry over him in the arduous time before he had faced his brother. The only way to comfort such sorrow was to fight alongside him.

It had come as somewhat of a consolation to discover that, and now that last night had made it very clear that it had been the right decision, she felt comforted. She also felt guiltily relieved. If she were to take that sort of step towards him, offering him love, she would have to accept the uncomfortable truths that went with the kindness, and gentleness that so trussed up her heart. She would have to accept his pain, his sorrow, his wanderlust, and his tormented unending hunt for forgiveness. Worst of all she would have to accept his power. She shuddered at how that alien nature of his petrified her. Even now, years later, she could feel the stricken terror she had felt as he had transformed, even though he was protecting her. She would have to love the demon as well as the angel.

She hung her head, she did not have the courage, and the worst was he knew it. He knew she was afraid of him and she hated that. It was even worse that he had smiled at her and had thanked her for being honest about her feelings. And being Vash, he had deflected them from himself to the entire world. It was as if he had known of her potential to love behind the fear. As the feathers had fallen, shattering her mind with each memory, he had invited her to share in the journey, to embrace plants as her companions as well as the humans she interacted with every day. He had deflected her fear towards love. It had taken a long while for her to work it out, but with the assistance of those at Fifth Moon, she felt she had made a little difference in working out that love.

She heard more scuffles out in the passage outside and realised she was kneeling on her unmade bed with tears wet on her face. What a way to start the day.

"Love and peace." She said to herself as she rubbed her face with the rough blanket, "with determination to hold it together."

She took out her tiny makeup mirror to check her appearance. Good, her red eyes merely looked tired, not as if she had been up most of the night crying. How was it that even though he was a mere hundred yarz away that she missed him more that when he was hundreds of iles gone? She slipped it back into the Prada purse she carried in her pack. She had bought it for herself as a reward right at the beginning of her Bernadelli assignment on Vash. It had become a symbol to her, no matter how insane things became around him, there was the tiny retreat of her feminine self which was all her own. He might never see the changes he had wrought in her thoughts and personality, but she knew the stark difference. Yet, she was still her own person; she still quietly enjoyed the elegant beauty of a luxury purse, and treasured the reminder that she could be a woman in such a dangerous world.

She closed her pack and hurried out of the room. She had eaten so much the night before, but exhaustion made her hungry. There were at least twenty adults and a whole crowd of children sitting squashed around the dining hall tables eating breakfast. Someone had fried rice and, and... She grabbed a plate and heaped as much on as she knew she could possibly eat. She stacked on the toppings and wolfed it down, wiping at the tears as they fell. He had made this. She had tried to replicate the taste and the way he got the rice just so, but somehow it had never tasted like this.

"Wow, Meryl. Are you so hungry?"

"Mmmg!" Meryl sniffed and wiped her eyes as Milly walked in to the dining hall with a tray slung around her neck. She began clearing the dirty plates and stacking them into the tray.

"Are you done?" Milly asked, returning to her after her circuit of the hall, on her way out to the kitchen.

Meryl could not eat another bite, she had cleared the plate.

"Yes. Thank you."

She followed her friend out into the bustling kitchen.

"Do you need some help?"

"Sure!"

She ended up in the scullery drying dishes, which were soon whisked away back to the dining hall as the next people descended on the hall for breakfast. Milly was happily bringing back more dishes from the dining hall, so it was half an hour before Meryl could hang up yet another sodden drying cloth and flex her chapped hands.

She went through to the kitchen and found Melanie there, cooking more food with several other strangers that she did not know. She sidled through the crowd and smiled at the plump woman.

"Have you seen Vash?"

Melanie glanced up at her, surprised. She tucked a tendril of wavy black hair into the scarf she wore on her head.

"Don't you know? They set fire to December this morning, he and the men went out to see what they could do."

Meryl felt her heart sink to her boots. It was the terrible feeling of sand pouring through her fingers. Every time she came close to him, he slipped away. She stumbled through the people in the kitchen and jerked the door open. She felt like her body was not connected to her mind the way she lurched across the yard until she could look east. Standing beside Wolfwood's grave, she could see the towering column of dirty grey smoke, now blowing to the north. She became aware of a crowd of people standing at the gates of the orphanage discussing this very phenomenon. She hurried over when she recognised a woman who could only be Chronica.

The tall graceful woman, dressed in a jumpsuit, with an elegantly tailored duster over it, watched her as she joined them. Meryl was surprised to see how just the sides of her temples had black hair; the rest was as Doug had described it, a beautiful pale blond.

"You've also just heard, have you?" She asked tersely. "Our hot blooded men folk have gone to entertain themselves and left us behind!"

Meryl nodded.

"What are you going to do?" Chronica asked, sizing her up.

It was odd. They knew each other by reputation, having only briefly met once before just after Vash and Knives had flown off. She decided she rather liked Chronica's decisive manner.

"Help them. What else?" She smiled as Chronica frowned at her. "What is your weapon of choice? I have several rifles and…"

Chronica's frown vanished and she laughed quietly.

"I am a plant, and I will fight as a plant, but if you have a pistol, I'd take that as a side arm. Do you think that your friend would mind the possible sacrifice of her truck? It's the only one left; Livio left the keys under his pillow."

Meryl let Milly drive, as she wanted the reckless speed. They had taken all those who wanted to aid the party. Chronica knew most of them, and between Meryl, Milly and Melanie they could vouch for the skills and steadfastness of the rest. It was late afternoon as they approached the city, and it became apparent that fires were burning out of control in the south quarter. There was a thin guard of Feds, and to Meryl's surprise, Earth Forces at the east gate that waved them down.

Chronica stuck her head out of Milly's window.

"François! You're detaining me!" She imperiously informed the Earth Force guard.

"Chronica?" The guard exclaimed. "We heard you were dead."

"Well clearly, you heard wrong!" She snapped at him. "You would have let our allies in earlier."

"Who would that be, Chronica?" François asked. "You're not exactly Earth Force anymore."

"Because I fell in love with a man?" She asked incredulously. "They can go bury themselves, honestly."

"We're with Fifth Moon Investigations!" Meryl said, speaking out of the passenger window, as the Feds crowded around them. "We're gathering information on the plants fighting inside here. And you know there are several. Either we go in and you get your information, or we stay out here and your superiors get angry when we mention you in our reports."

There was a pause.

"Prove it."

Meryl handed down her business card.

They inspected it, then handed it back.

"You're to report to Captain Talit in the Federal Offices on Bourbon Street."

"You're letting them in?" François exclaimed as the Feds pulled the gates open.

"She's with him." Meryl heard as Milly drove forward.

"Who?"

"Vash the Stampede. And I ain't pissing off his girlfriend no way."

Meryl cringed at the incredulous stares she could see in the side mirror. It was not like that in any way or form, but sometimes misapprehensions helped.

They had not intended to report to Captain Talit, but the roads had been barricaded, and Bourbon Street was as far as they could go in the truck. Meryl leaped out of the truck as an officer walked over to investigate.

"Fifth Moon Investigations…" She began.

The man's eyes widened and his smile grew.

"She's here! They've come!" He called to those in the office. "Meryl Stryfe and Fifth Moon!"

"What?" Meryl said, bewildered.

They were issued into the Marshall's office and stood in a group by the door as the tall man with broad shoulders and a beefy neck walked over, looking haggard but relieved.

"We're so pleased you've come!" He said. "There are at least two independent plants in the city, creating havoc, nothing like the chaos Vash the Stampede and Millions Knives did, but they are wrecking the place! Have you anyone among you who can fight them?"

"I can." Chronica said coolly. "And I require my task force to remain with me. Could you have some of your men escort us to where we are needed?"

The Feds loaned them a jeep and gave Meryl the directions, but could not spare any men to go with them, they were too busy defending the walls from the attacking humans. Meryl drove through the devastated city, feeling a sharp wrench of pain as they drove down their street and found the lovely bakery only a collapsed pile of rubble. Fifth Moon Investigations was not looking much better with all its windows blown in.

"There!" Chronica called, pointing.

Meryl glanced down a side street as Milly slammed on the breaks, reversed and turned down it. At the far end they found Livio with Brad and several others, crouched behind a pile of rubble exchanging fire with an equally trapped group of Terrans on the far side of the road.

"How did you know they were there?" Milly asked in amazement as they brought the truck to a halt.

"I always know where Livio is." Chronica smiled at her, then hopped out of the jeep and lifted what Meryl had assumed to be a bazooka from the stash of weapons they had loaded into the back. Except this had AGL Pulsar stamped into the side of it. She did not recognise the make, and supposed it was Terran. Livio turned and smiled at her then his eyes widened the size of saucers when he saw what she was carrying.

"Crap, Chronica, you're not setting that thing off in the city, there will be nothing left!"

"It's better that there be nothing, than Johnston gets the power plants."

"Where is Vash?" Meryl asked, ducking down to join them in the small bunker area they had created behind the rubble.

"We last saw him by the power plant station." Brad pointed to the south east, where the curved hull of the ship was still visible over the tall skyscrapers.

"Let's go." Chronica said.

"A moment." Livio interjected. "What if I create a diversion down in the north east. You'll want to wedge yourselves around the station to defend it. It'll draw the Terran's to us and give you an opening."

Chronica nodded and Livio's smile broadened wickedly.

"It'll be our pleasure. Brad, let's leave these boring sods and go and find us some real entertainment!"

The suns were slowly setting, and the pale moons were visible in the evening sky. Meryl absently glanced at the Fifth Moon as she often did without thinking. The crater had become oddly comforting, as much as he hated it, it was his mark and she treasured it. She was perched on the top of a three-story building, beside Milly, and she watched the surrounding buildings for snipers. Her partner had her stun gun and was busy covering Chronica's back as she and five of the men sneaked across to the power plant. They were near the southern most entrance on the eastern wall, and she trained her binoculars over it, watching for the Terrans who might have gained the wall. She almost dropped her binoculars in shock as she recognised a tall figure in a distinctive red duster, with its tails flaring out behind him in the evening wind. He stood high on the wall over the gate waving a white flag, no, wait, that looked very much like her own white cape. Had he kept it all this time? No, there was no time to think of that now! What was Vash doing, waving a white flag, er cape? He wasn't surrendering was he? She felt panic slick her back with sweat. That would be just like him. Did he think the Terran's would leave the people in peace? Had he seen what they had done to the plants they were after? Hell, he had spent time in their company and he had heard the stories they had told about Johnston.

She then saw the floating car soar up from among the Terran Tanks. Ah, so that was what he had been signalling. He lowered the cape and waved in a friendly fashion. The car came near enough the wall for her to see the people in it. She ground her teeth in fury. Johnston was among them, dressed in that distinctive hat and coat. She wanted to grab his throat and throttle him, no, she wanted to hand him over to Abe and Calor they would find far more inventive punishments.

Vash seemed to be talking animatedly. The Terrans replied with a few terse replies. Vash nodded enthusiastically. She watched as the car floated away from the wall. Vash slouched slightly as if in relief and walked away. She felt her heart leap, had he negotiated come kind of cease fire? She trained the binoculars on him; he was smiling as far as she could make out. She felt her spirits lift; he knew how to sue for peace. She then heard a rapid rapport of gunfire, and watched in horror as his face twisted in agony and he staggered. Odd white flames encased him; it was as though he were on fire. She felt her breath catch in her throat. What had Johnston shot at him? He caught himself on the wall, slumping against it, his face a rictus of agony. Then another bullet caught him in the back and a strange white glow engulfed him as he fell off the wall. She was drawing back the range of the binoculars as it happened. Johnston held the gun with a firm look of determination on his face.

"Nooooo!" She screamed.

"Meryl!" Milly released her stun gun and clamped her hand over her partner's mouth.

"Milly!" Meryl struggled free. "They shot Vash! He fell from the wall!"

"What?"

Meryl abandoned her post and ran for the stairs, her mind in a dazed blur. She reached the ground floor as two of the men who had gone with Chronica joined them.

"What happened?" They demanded, searching for their attacker.

"They shot Vash!" Milly declared.

They glanced at each other.

"Go to him!" One declared. "We will guard Chronica."