Chapter Twenty: Wolfwood
Sweat beaded on Milly's forehead as she struggled up the small hospital's staircase. Her foot slipped a little, and she had to stop to steady herself before continuing up. She had just reached the second floor when Vash showed up infront of her, clearly heading down.
He glanced at her as he passed, then did a double-take.
"Milly?! Wh-what the heck is Wolfwood--"
"Vash-san! I'm so glad to see you..."
Vash stared at Milly. Wolfwood, tied grotesquely to what appeared to be his own cross with strange threads, was being carried on Milly's back, which was bent almost double in the effort.
Vash reached forward to take Wolfwood off Milly when she moved out of his reach with surprising swiftness.
"It's alright Vash-san, I can manage."
"What happened?!"
"I'll explain later..."
Milly briefly smiled, and continued upstairs.
Wolfwood-san... if you die on me now... I will never forgive you!
She readjusted her grip on the cross' bonds before continuing.
Flashback
Milly refused to look at him, and although she was there, her back was turned. The dust on the floor soaked up her tears.
All Meryl could do was look down. Her own tears streaked her face, and although they were for Wolfwood, they were for Vash, as well. She had never seen a more sadder face in her life. It was as though he wanted to cry, but he had no tears left; or he wanted to let out wretched cries or sobs, but he had no energy to do so.
It was a terrible silence as Vash lay Wolfwood onto the front pew's bench. He had a sheet clutched tightly in his fingers; he had searched the church for a coffin, but of course, there was none.
'I'm sorry, Wolfwood... this is the best I can do.'
Vash thought, in deep sorrow as he pulled over the thick, velvet sheet over him, trembling slightly.
"Don't!"
Vash looked up, startled, as Meryl did so too. Milly seemed to have reached a hysterical point; she was looking at Wolfwood with eyes that did not see.
"He won't be able to see... he won't be able to see!"
Her voice broke into hysterical sobs as she pushed forward, pushing Vash aside and pressing her hands to his face.
He was smiling.
"Why? God, why did you take him now?"
Her tears fell onto Wolfwood's chest as she grasped his shirt.
"Why does he look so peaceful? Why is he smiling? Maybe he's not dead, Vash-san... he wouldn't smile if he was, would he?"
Collapsing onto the floor, she sobbed into his clothes.
"Would... he?"
Her whisper was muffled by the black coat.
Vash gently touched Milly's shoulders, and led her away from Wolfwood.
"Milly... he was tired."
He said simply. Milly's eyes could not look at him anymore, and so she let herself be taken away, further and further from the sorrow.
Perhaps she thought that if she was taken far, far away, she could run from it.
Away from the truth she dared not accept.
"So.... hitotsu me no yoru ni..."
Wolfwood opened his eyes. Rose petals whirled around him, some brushing against his cheek. He was suspended in blue skies, clearer than any sky he'd ever seen, and only a few streaks of white clouds.
"Izuko kara koishi ga..."
He turned to the origin of the sweetly singing voice, a familiar voice he could faintly remember...
"Milly?"
He said in surprise. Milly's blue eyes met his own, her pretty face brightening with a smile.
"You're awake now."
He looked around the sky.
"Where are we?"
"We're in neutral ground. It's a special place between Heaven and Land."
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow.
"Not Heaven and Earth?"
"No, there are too many planets to say that."
"Huh?"
"There's a planet called Earth."
Milly replied. There was something in her voice, something that made her sound very mature; very old... he turned to look at her, and saw how the gentle winds lifted her brown hair, her eyes looking out at a distance, looking somewhat... wise.
"Are you really Milly?"
He asked. Milly looked taken back for a moment; then she let out a tinkling laugh.
"Wow, you're perceptive! You're correct. I am not who you call Milly."
He ought to have felt guarded against the stranger, but strangely, he didn't. Perhaps he couldn't; it was neutral ground, where the beings were both equal.
"Then who are you?"
He asked.
"I am one who helps God decide who gets a second chance to live, and who doesn't."
"To live...?"
Wolfwood thought for a moment, and suddenly, something snapped in him, and memories came rushing back. Vash, Meryl, Milly, green apples, Chapel, a rain of bullets... his last visit to church, blood and life slowly leaking out of him as he prayed his last prayer... then... death...!
"I'm dead!!"
He gasped in shock.
"You are."
Said Milly, nodding as though she had expected this sort of reaction.
"Did you say you help God decide who gets a second chance to live?"
"Yes, I did."
"Well... uhm... what do you judge me by? How well I served God?"
Milly thought about that for a moment before shaking her head.
"Well, yes, but no. It mostly depends on how you died. So tell me... why are you here?"
Wolfwood didn't know where to begin. So, he decided he would tell her from the very beginning; his childhood.
He spoke about his first murder; the first time he held a gun, how right it had felt in his hand, but how wrong it had felt deep inside.
He talked about joining the Gung-ho guns, and how he never saw the boss' face, yet had murdered and kill callously for him.
He talked about how he had become a travelling priest, and how his church had set up an orphanage that had taught him that there was more to life than killing.
He went on, talking about meeting Vash, when Milly interrupted him.
"Vash?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"Well, I don't know if I do. Does he have blond hair? Mole under his eye?"
"His right eye, to be exact. You do know him."
Milly nodded.
"I do."
"Well, I was looking for him when my motorcycle broke down."
"Why were you looking for him?"
"Well, to kill him. Boss' orders."
Milly looked distraught.
"I see... continue."
"Well, I thought I was going to die in the heat of the sun, when suddenly, a bus stops in front of me! Believe my luck or not, it was Vash who'd spotted me. And guess what?"
He told her about his first fears; his first fears of Vash's powers, of what Vash was capable of - what he'd been told.
But when he saw just how incredibly nice the gangly moron was to humans, particularly to two girls he was travelling with at the time--
"Two girls?"
"Yeah. One big girl and one small one. You... you look like the big one."
Milly tilted her head to one side.
"Do I?"
"You look too much like her. Why do you look like her?"
"Well, I look like the one you wanted to see most before you died. So I suppose you and her were...?"
Wolfwood felt a small blush creep up his neck.
"Well, you could say that."
"What about the small girl?"
Wolfwood blinked, then laughed.
"Oh, her? She likes Vash."
Milly's eyes widened.
"Does she?"
"Oh, yes, she does. And I think, although this is only speculation, mind you, that he's growing rather attatched to her as well."
He chuckled, before he continued. He spoke of how Vash had changed him; his perspective, his life; everything. Then he described to her exactly how he'd died.
"Although it was what Vash taught me that killed me, I felt something strange. There was no resentment or anger... I just felt that it was worth it, doing what I should've done years ago."
Milly nodded slowly, before smiling softly, and taking Wolfwood into her arms. She had a very motherly feel to her, and Wolfwood knew that this woman was definitely not Milly.
"I'm sending you back down. You hear me? You're going to live."
Wolfwood smiled gratefully.
"Thank you. I really appreciate this, you know. There's so much I have left to do."
"Just remember that no matter what happens, nothing is pre-determined. Your ticket to the future is blank - you choose what you do and what happens when you do."
Wolfwood nodded, noting the warm, slowly brightening glow that was coming from within him.
"Why am I glowing?"
"Oh, that. I'm just returning you back to your body, don't worry."
"Goodbye, then."
"Good luck."
The glow brightened to a bright, white light that engulfed his vision.
When he next opened his eyes, he was taking in a full breath of life into his lungs, and although he began to cough at the dried blood that clogged his throat, he felt a great sense of joy as he realised that he was alive.
A faintly worn ceiling met his eyes as he opened them.
Groaning slightly, he turned his head as best as he could, and saw a small girl, her small face framed with brown curls. Her eyes widened at the sight of his awakening. "Daddy!! Daddy, he's awake!!"
Her shrill voice almost made Wolfwood wince, but he managed to sit up. He noticed how skinny he was; he could see his ribs, and he had barely strength to move quickly. Footsteps could be heard; a tall, bearded man rushed in. He looked at Wolfwood, and let out a sigh of relief.
"Man, I was worried ya wouldn't wake up!"
"Wh-...where am I?"
He croaked, his throat feeling parched.
"Ya been out for weeks; in coma, I should think - ye were found by our town."
Wolfwood had so many questions, but the little girl had just handed him a clay cup filled with water; he drank the cool liquid and felt it revive him as it slid down his throat. "Found?"
He finally asked, after he had drunk his fill. The man nodded, now sitting down on a stool next to him.
"Rescue teams. Sent 'em out after we heard of those disappearin' people. Found ye in a church - we thought ya were dead, but when we carried ye out, ya started coughing. I let you stay in me house until ya recovered."
"Thank you."
Wolfwood said in all sincerity, wondering how on earth he'd survived. He'd definitely died; he was sure he felt his soul leave him... Then he remembered something.
The flurry of rose petals, the sweet singing.... Milly...!
He had to get better, quick. When he had put on a bit of flesh, he would get up and go find her again. The real one, he told himself. He would also find Vash and tell him... thank you. Then he'd go off and help him beat the crap out of Knives, if he could. Oh, and he'd attempt to get Meryl to pluck up a bit of courage.
Yep, he still had a lot to do.
He accepted the bowl of soup he was handed, and drank with a strongly burning desire to live.
And when he found her again, not only was she crying, but he found himself also spilling tears.
The first time he'd cried of joy.
End Flashback
