"The Road Not Taken"
A Trigun Fanfic
By Outlaw Coyote
Two roads diverged on a desert planet, but neither led up or out. Sometimes you'd wonder what they were there for in the first place, since they didn't seem to go anywhere. I thought I'd picked mine a long time ago. I didn't expect to wake up at a crossroads every day. Then again, I guess no one ever does.
Two roads diverged down the barrel of a gun. I was seven. That one was easy. If you can't go up or out, you have to break *through*, with everything you've got. You either want to survive or you don't. The decision was as simple as pulling a trigger. One shot. Problem solved.
Yeah, right. Things are never that easy. If they were, I'd be as happy as *he* pretends to be. But at least I was out of the fire and back in the frying pan with the rest of humanity.
It wasn't ALL bad. I had the orphanage, taking care of the kids. (Yes, I AM a priest... think I'd make that up?) At any rate, it was enough to live for that I was cleaning up the roads those little guys would end up walking down. Having been down mine for some distance, I was pretty sure they didn't want to travel it themselves.
I was thinking of the kids the whole time. Sounds noble, doesn't it? Almost makes you forget I was signing myself over to the Dark Side of a grudge match between two superhuman quasi-brothers that could have blown up the world for all I knew. I spent ten years jumping tracks like that--back and forth between two destinies. Nicholas D. Wolfwood walked a priest's path, speaking God's words and caring for orphans. Chapel the Evergreen walked the path of destruction; HIS only connection with God was through sending others to Him.
It sucks, but eventually you've just gotta pick one. I'm a natural born killer. I'm don't like it, but I'm good at it. That's the anthem of responsibility, isn't it? "Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, because there's no alternative"? People tell me I'm good with kids, and I guess they're right, but eventually experience started telling me I was better with guns.
I figured as far as I'd gone at that point, I was damned anyway, so I might as well do what worked best. Well, I'd be knocking off the bad guys, so I'd still be protecting the kids... wouldn't I?
Chapel the Evergreen couldn't live at the orphanage. You don't want a guy like that raising a bunch of kids. So I moved out.
When things slow down, I start to remember how much I miss 'em. Especially now, watching these nifty little red puddles collect on the church floor... God I'm making a mess. I feel sorry for whoever's gonna have to clean this up. It's stupid, but if I could have one last little hug, or hear "bye-bye, Nick-san" just one more time, I think this hole in my back would hurt a little less.
Not that I'll have to worry about that for much longer.
I'm sitting here on the floor, pouring my heart out in my first and last confession, on my knees half because I'm praying and half because standing makes me dizzy. For the first time, I know for sure that there's really Somebody up there, listening. I pull out one last cigarette and light it. You won't find it in a Catechism or anything, but I've always considered that part of Last Rites.
Vash... that crazy, hippie needle-noggin. I might have taken HIS road, but I chose mine instead. Took a little U-turn back there, yes, but what does fifteen minutes count for? He's been living like that his whole life. The second I saw him and the road he was walking down, I was sure we'd both hit the same dead end--shot down, alone in the middle of nowhere. "He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword." You don't have to be a priest to figure that one out.
What I didn't realize at the time was that using the sword *his* way didn't qualify as living by it. It was more like living by NOT living by it. When I made my choice, I'd seen our separate paths as two interesting ways to wind up dead in some dark alley. But then I got to know him, and they look kinda differend now.
...So was I wrong?
I ask God. After all, I might be close enough to Heaven or Hell or Purgatory to hear Him answer me straight out. I sure FEEL like it.
He doesn't say anything right away, and I can't say I'm all that surprised, but suddenly I'm terrified of being in this position to begin with. Out of nowhere I'm filled with this conviction that it's not over after all. That I CAN be forgiven. That it's Chapel the Evergreen who's bleeding to death here on the floor, not Nicholas D. Wolfwood. And it's weird, but all of a sudden, I don't want to die. I want to go home and play with my kids, tease Needle-Noggin, buy Millie another cup of her blessed pudding. I want to walk down a different road, the road I didn't take before. I know I can make things right... I don't want to die!
I tell God as much, and pray He'll be okay with the change of plans. He doesn't argue with me, doesn't seem to have a problem with it. In fact, I feel a little stronger. Strong enough to grab hold of my cross and haul myself to my feet again.
I WILL survive. If Vash the Stampede can do it, why not Nicholas D. Wolfwood? I'll survive--and I'll make things right. Starting with fixing up this old church... AFTER I get back to the truck, pass out in the back seat, wake up in bed and finally get around to feeling like walking again!
I heft my cross up on my shoulder, and nearly fall down again. I've always been able to lift it easily, but now, staggering toward the door and our truck outside, it seems heavier than usual. I wonder for a minute if it's from losing so much blood, and keep going. Suddenly I can't help smiling. In my heart, I hear the answer:
"That's because it's so full of mercy."
THE END.
...yeah, so I changed it. It's called "The Road NOT Taken", isn't it? Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed my first attempt! Please leave constructive criticism--go ahead and be brutal; I'm a big girl, I can take it. (No flames! Mean people suck!)
A big Arigato Gozaimashita to Schofield-sensei for the inspiration as far as the title and theme are concerned, and thanks to Lisha-chan for being my proofreader and Mako-chan for putting up with my ranting about how unfair it was for them to kill Wolfwood off in the first place. With any luck, I'll write more in the future.
~Coyote
A Trigun Fanfic
By Outlaw Coyote
Two roads diverged on a desert planet, but neither led up or out. Sometimes you'd wonder what they were there for in the first place, since they didn't seem to go anywhere. I thought I'd picked mine a long time ago. I didn't expect to wake up at a crossroads every day. Then again, I guess no one ever does.
Two roads diverged down the barrel of a gun. I was seven. That one was easy. If you can't go up or out, you have to break *through*, with everything you've got. You either want to survive or you don't. The decision was as simple as pulling a trigger. One shot. Problem solved.
Yeah, right. Things are never that easy. If they were, I'd be as happy as *he* pretends to be. But at least I was out of the fire and back in the frying pan with the rest of humanity.
It wasn't ALL bad. I had the orphanage, taking care of the kids. (Yes, I AM a priest... think I'd make that up?) At any rate, it was enough to live for that I was cleaning up the roads those little guys would end up walking down. Having been down mine for some distance, I was pretty sure they didn't want to travel it themselves.
I was thinking of the kids the whole time. Sounds noble, doesn't it? Almost makes you forget I was signing myself over to the Dark Side of a grudge match between two superhuman quasi-brothers that could have blown up the world for all I knew. I spent ten years jumping tracks like that--back and forth between two destinies. Nicholas D. Wolfwood walked a priest's path, speaking God's words and caring for orphans. Chapel the Evergreen walked the path of destruction; HIS only connection with God was through sending others to Him.
It sucks, but eventually you've just gotta pick one. I'm a natural born killer. I'm don't like it, but I'm good at it. That's the anthem of responsibility, isn't it? "Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, because there's no alternative"? People tell me I'm good with kids, and I guess they're right, but eventually experience started telling me I was better with guns.
I figured as far as I'd gone at that point, I was damned anyway, so I might as well do what worked best. Well, I'd be knocking off the bad guys, so I'd still be protecting the kids... wouldn't I?
Chapel the Evergreen couldn't live at the orphanage. You don't want a guy like that raising a bunch of kids. So I moved out.
When things slow down, I start to remember how much I miss 'em. Especially now, watching these nifty little red puddles collect on the church floor... God I'm making a mess. I feel sorry for whoever's gonna have to clean this up. It's stupid, but if I could have one last little hug, or hear "bye-bye, Nick-san" just one more time, I think this hole in my back would hurt a little less.
Not that I'll have to worry about that for much longer.
I'm sitting here on the floor, pouring my heart out in my first and last confession, on my knees half because I'm praying and half because standing makes me dizzy. For the first time, I know for sure that there's really Somebody up there, listening. I pull out one last cigarette and light it. You won't find it in a Catechism or anything, but I've always considered that part of Last Rites.
Vash... that crazy, hippie needle-noggin. I might have taken HIS road, but I chose mine instead. Took a little U-turn back there, yes, but what does fifteen minutes count for? He's been living like that his whole life. The second I saw him and the road he was walking down, I was sure we'd both hit the same dead end--shot down, alone in the middle of nowhere. "He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword." You don't have to be a priest to figure that one out.
What I didn't realize at the time was that using the sword *his* way didn't qualify as living by it. It was more like living by NOT living by it. When I made my choice, I'd seen our separate paths as two interesting ways to wind up dead in some dark alley. But then I got to know him, and they look kinda differend now.
...So was I wrong?
I ask God. After all, I might be close enough to Heaven or Hell or Purgatory to hear Him answer me straight out. I sure FEEL like it.
He doesn't say anything right away, and I can't say I'm all that surprised, but suddenly I'm terrified of being in this position to begin with. Out of nowhere I'm filled with this conviction that it's not over after all. That I CAN be forgiven. That it's Chapel the Evergreen who's bleeding to death here on the floor, not Nicholas D. Wolfwood. And it's weird, but all of a sudden, I don't want to die. I want to go home and play with my kids, tease Needle-Noggin, buy Millie another cup of her blessed pudding. I want to walk down a different road, the road I didn't take before. I know I can make things right... I don't want to die!
I tell God as much, and pray He'll be okay with the change of plans. He doesn't argue with me, doesn't seem to have a problem with it. In fact, I feel a little stronger. Strong enough to grab hold of my cross and haul myself to my feet again.
I WILL survive. If Vash the Stampede can do it, why not Nicholas D. Wolfwood? I'll survive--and I'll make things right. Starting with fixing up this old church... AFTER I get back to the truck, pass out in the back seat, wake up in bed and finally get around to feeling like walking again!
I heft my cross up on my shoulder, and nearly fall down again. I've always been able to lift it easily, but now, staggering toward the door and our truck outside, it seems heavier than usual. I wonder for a minute if it's from losing so much blood, and keep going. Suddenly I can't help smiling. In my heart, I hear the answer:
"That's because it's so full of mercy."
THE END.
...yeah, so I changed it. It's called "The Road NOT Taken", isn't it? Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed my first attempt! Please leave constructive criticism--go ahead and be brutal; I'm a big girl, I can take it. (No flames! Mean people suck!)
A big Arigato Gozaimashita to Schofield-sensei for the inspiration as far as the title and theme are concerned, and thanks to Lisha-chan for being my proofreader and Mako-chan for putting up with my ranting about how unfair it was for them to kill Wolfwood off in the first place. With any luck, I'll write more in the future.
~Coyote