this fic is :

amazingly short
Wolfwood focused
pointless
possibly shounen-ai (?)

these characters are :

not owned by me
owned by a very groovy guy
introspective

you will :

enjoy (?)
destroy (?)





---

It's quiet.

But how long will it last?

How long will the silence last for you, Vash the Stampede?

It's never long. Soon, someone or another, will be after you. It's only a matter of when and why. Maybe you'll do something, say something, and manage to piss off some random gun-toting lunatic. Probably stick your fool nose into a situation where it doesn't belong again, trying to save more people you don't know. Of course, it could be more bounty hunters. I don't plan on shooting you in your sleep anytime soon, but I have to admit, that $$60 billion reward is tempting. Just think of the kids.... But naw. You're worth more alive than dead. To me anyways.

Ah yes. Me. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Priest-san. Chapel. Gung-Ho-Gun. That might be the other set of guys coming after you. You've only just scratched the surface of them, you know. And you, Tongari, idiot, always let them go. People who feel nothing for another human, who exist only to make your life a living hell until their own flame of existence is stubbed out into an ashtray.

I shouldn't smoke. It's killing me, slowly. I can feel it. But that's alright. I'd rather be killed this way. I'd rather hack and cough and wither and suffer in my dying days than be shot dead in the middle of one of these dusty streets. I want dying days.

I want....

I want peaceful days. I want to believe, like you do, Tongari, in people's hearts. I want to be able to look into the eyes of a killer and say "It's alright. You can stop now." I want to be able to finally put down this bloody cross.

Too bad that's never going to happen, eh? Because it can't. I can't. I can't believe. I can't believe that a murdering bastard would really put down his weapon just because someone asked him to instead of blowing that person's head off. I can't believe it because it doesn't happen. It never happens.

Unless you're around.

But that's just luck. Chance roll of the dice. You find all the softies, I guess. The Gung-Ho-Guns aren't like that though. You're not going to be able to defeat Midvalley with your pretty words. You're not to be able to beat Legato with love and peace. They're not like that.

I'm not like that.

Because I can't believe. Not in them. Not in my fellow man. Not in the non-existent good inherent in the human heart and soul. Not in me.

But.... you....

I think I could believe in you.

Vash the Stampede.

---





I'm on a posting frenzy lately, booyah! Must be because I'm digging up all those lill dusty fics I stuck away that were never supposed to see the light of day.... and yet here they are. Sigh. Fic inspired by Elton John's song of the same name. I'm not really a big fan of his, but I did like the tune (obviously). Here's a lill snippet of it, for those curious :

' Without love
I wouldn't believe
in anything
that lives and breathes
without love
I'd have no anger
I wouldn't believe
in the right to stand here

Without love
I wouldn't believe
I couldn't believe in you
and I couldn't believe in me '

and on a random note.... I finally wrote a Wolfwood fic! HUAHAHAHAH!! Even if it is short, fluffy, and pointless like everything else I seem to write. Ah well.