Authors Note: Ok, this chapter turned out to be longer than expected so I cut it down to 2 parts. The second part is taking forever to write, especially because I keep losing what I wrote, so it wont be posted till maybe a week or two. Till then I decided to post part 1. Cuz I didn't want to have you guys wait until the whole chapter was done, u guys cant wait 2 more weeks right? Yea I thought so. Sorry for the delay!

The Perfect Drug

Chapter 4

You're the only one that's understood

Part 1

A horizon of pink dissolved into a velvety gray sky, as the sun sank beneath the Earth. The newly born darkness cascaded over the city, encompassing it in a cool, silver glow. Neon arrays of light flashed throughout the sky as clubs and bars became packed. Between all the boisterous celebration the night partook in, Wolfwood sat perfectly still; hoping to distract his mind from the burning fire that was manifesting on his arm. He gripped the edge of his stool tightly as two gloved hands finished stitching his wound.

"Come back in a week," A calm, calculating voice said wrapping his arm in gauze, "Unless of course your dead by then."

Wolfwood opened his eyes relieved that the searing pain was over. He ran his fingers along his newly patched arm deep in thought. "Dead?" he finally spoke, addressing Caines statement, "I can't die, I'm immortal." He grinned cockily before jumping of the stool.

The silent sniper gave him a very cold glare. He couldn't understand how someone so young and hopeless like Wolfwood, could be part of the Gun Ho Guns. Their organization was one of the most powerful in Sacramento, made up of only the best criminals. From snipers, to hijackers, to assassins, the Gun Ho Guns were the best at what they did. From what he'd seen, Wolfwood did not fit the bill. But Knives had recruited him for a reason. It'd be interesting to see what that was. Maybe their leader had seen some potential, though Caine doubted any existed.

"Thanks Caine!" Wolfwood shouted, leaving the Gunsmith. "I'll see you in a week then!"

He made his way towards the tattoo parlor next door. Both stores were located next to each other, since they both were owned and operated by Gun Ho Guns. A couple of streets down was Gunsmoke, a nightclub were most of the Guns worked at. The path leading towards the three locations were drug routes were dealers made their drop. It was a triangle of business that everyone was a part of. One way or another, everyone was linked to this world of corruption. And the sad thing was, no matter how graceless or degrading life on the streets could be, there was no way out.

Wolfwood knew this. He had tried to run away from this lifestyle many times now, but no matter how far he went, no matter how hard he ran, he always found himself back on the same spot. He had resigned himself to the streets, he had become a slave to them like everyone else. The only difference was that he accepted it.

In reality there wasn't much Wolfwood could complain about. Business was good, the money was great, and the respect you got for being a Gun Ho Gun was unmatched. No other gang had the respect the Gun Ho Guns had in the underground. But then again no other gang had a mastermind behind them. Knives was the leader, the boss, the one who made every decision and ran things. If there was one thing Wolfwood didn't like about their exclusive club, it had to be Knives

There was something unnerving about Knives, something not quite humane, but Wolfwood hardly ever saw him. In his eyes the true heart of the Gun Ho Guns was the nine criminals that belonged in it. They had formed a family. They were the only family each of them had. When things got sour, they all had each others back. That was the main reason for joining. It was never about working with Knives, or the money. Deep down he knew they were all just searching for a family, for a place to call home.

Stepping into the tattoo parlor from the back door, Wolfwood made his way towards the sounds of a needle probing itself deep into someone's flesh. Walking down the hall he entered a room, were he found Midvalley busy at work.

"Hey Valley," he said before plopping down onto a nearby couch.

"Hey!" Midvalley answered, looking up from his customer. "Where have you been all day?"

"Running errands for Dominique." Wolfwood stated, propping his feet up.

Midvalley chuckled deeply, "She's got you under control, huh?"

"Hell no," The younger man protested. "Where she at anyways?"

"Probably working."

"Already?" Wolfwood asked glancing at the clock stationed on the wall. "It's still really early…"

"She could be, I haven't seen her all day." The older of the two responded going back to work. He pressed the fine point of a needle into the back of what seemed to be a young boy. Wolfwood couldn't really tell. All he could see was the boys back, along with the tousled blonde hair poking here and there.

"Do you have the car?" Midvalley asked suddenly, pulling Wolfwood from his observations.

"Um…Yea, I just need to empty it out."

"It's in perfect condition right?"

"Of course!" Wolfwood lied through his teeth, "You know me, I didn't drive it at all."

"Good. When you hand me the keys, I'll hand you the money." Midvally muttered concentrating on the fire he was manifesting on the young boys back.

After staring at the young customer for a while, Wolfwood finally had to ask, "Isn't he a little young?"

Midvalley shrugged, distorting the natural skin tone into an array of colors. "He had money, who am I to discriminate?"

Wolfwood couldn't help but snicker, "It's all about the Benjamin's with you, isn't it?"

"Shit, I gots ta get paid." Midvalley protested, accidentally pressing down too hard on the boys skin.

"Ow," came the yelp underneath Midvalley's hands.

Wolfwood realized that was the first sound he heard the kid make thus far.

Damn, when I got my first tattoo I didn't stop cussing until a week after I got it done. He thought to himself, That has to be one brave little boy.

"Yo, kid, who you roll with?" He asked curious to see were this young cat came from.

"I roll with no one, I'm on my own." Came the muffled reply. His voice sounded hoarse and croaky, but it was unmistakably that of a child.

Damn, this thug probably hasn't even hit puberty yet.

"So you hustle?" Wolfwood continued, thoroughly amused.

"Fuck yea." Came the response, sounding seemingly inappropriate emitting from such a young boy. "Money, power, respect, it's the key to life," He continued, sounding as if he had been reciting that motto his whole life.

Both Midvally and Wolfwood had to laugh. This kid had been them years ago. Wolfwood smiled as he remembered the days of his childhood, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy towards the young boy. Being young and on the streets was the hardest life anyone could have. He could still remember how helpless and lost he was. He had to grow up at a faster rate in order to survive the cruelty of the world. Even though some part of him was old and mature beyond years, Wolfwood still held on to a childish demeanor in order to salvage a childhood he never had.

"What's your name?" Wolfwood asked, getting ready to leave.

"Zazie…Zazie the Kid."

"You're one brave motherfucker Zazie …" He paused looking down at the young boy, "Maybe someday you can join us."

"Join who?"

But by the time Zazie had asked his question Wolfwood had already walked out onto the busy streets.

****

"Are you serious?" Rem asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

Vash nodded slowly; eyes glued on the TV screen.

"I can't believe it. Meryl seems like such a nice girl…"

"I couldn't believe it either," Vash responded, "But then again I'm not surprised."

"Why not?" Rem asked popping more buttered kernels into her mouth.

"Well, she doesn't exactly have the perfect life." Vash explained, completely engaged on the game he was watching.

"I see what you mean…" she paused deep in thought, "And that's exactly why I provide you with everything you need." Rem said curling up on the couch. "I would just die if you got involved in such filthy habits."

Vash's eyes briefly flickered to his mother who had now turned her gaze towards the TV. "Yea," he said quietly, "That would be a shame…"

He was sick and tired of the sheltered life he was given. He couldn't blame Rem for it though, she was a single mother trying to raise a child on her own.

Still though, I wanna struggle for something. Just once in my life, I want to earn something the hard way instead of it being given to me on a gold platter. His gazed focused on the glowing screen, thinking about the images he hadn't been able to dislodge from his mind all day.

Wolfwood, he's the only one that can't be given to me so easily. That's fine, I don't mind fighting for what I want...

Making up his mind that in fact Wolfwood was what he wanted, Vash want back to watching the game.

****

In an empty parking lot out back, a 1969 Shelby Mustang hid beneath roaming shadows. Wolfwood approached the priceless piece of machinery sighing deeply. As soon as he reached it he ran his hands across the black paint finish, sliding down towards the car door.

"I can't believe we have to say good bye all ready." He whispered, "I'm gonna miss you so much…racing and running away from those pigs…They were never able to catch us, we were way to fast." He grinned remembering how close he had been to killing himself in one particularly rough police chase. "You took good care of me, and I'm going to love you forever," He whispered dejectedly before he began to empty out the car.

He glumly began to take out the various objects that had been left in the car. Shifting through various articles he found a black backpack on the floor of the passengers seat.

This aint mine, he thought yanking out the backpack.

He opened it and took out the first paper he found. Lifting the crisp, white paper into the light, his eyes roamed over it until he found 'Vash Saverem' neatly printed in black ink.

Vash…

His eyes ran through the paper once more, searching for something, but only finding equations.

"Vash…" The name left his lips before he could even realize what he was saying. Still staring at the perfect handwriting, he felt something queasy in his stomach.

I guess…I guess I better return this. He thought shaking any other thought roaming in his head.

He didn't know why the idea of seeing the blonde again put him in better spirits. He was upset about saying goodbye to his car, but the prospect of seeing Vash again made the pain disperse. Picking the back pack up along with the rest of his stuff he walked towards the tattoo parlor to hand over the keys.

******

Along the streets of Sacramento expensive shops lined the streets. Rich floral lights illuminated the clean areas were young ladies danced and laughed in their own high. They pirouetted and posed in their rich, plastic, luxurious lifestyle. The rich played an ignorant charade night after night. In the dissolve of darkness war did not exist. There was no pain or suffering, just the simple enjoyment of life. The circumstances they were living in cut lives short, so people enjoyed it the best they could. This was the decent part of town, not the slums.

In the ghettos, the hoods, or Harlem's, it was a different story. Life was not always so enjoyable. In fact, many needed help to make their life better. No matter what the want or the need was there was always someone ready to provide. No matter how twisted, wrong or indecent dreams could be; someone made it legal. Drugs and sex were just the tip of the iceberg that made up the underworld of souls searching desperately to fulfill unlimitless wants and needs. Among these scavengers was Dominique prancing the streets like she did every night. Many would seem selling yourself to the streets as wrong or immoral, but to her it was the only way to survive. The streets were home, and they were calling.

She walked sensuously letting the black lace of her dress cling to her thin form; swaying gently with every step. Sliding long fingers through her onyx locks, she scoured her surroundings. It was always important to have a way out in case the eye in the sky came. Police sirens rang out in the distance, but they were too far to worry about. It was still early, the party didn't get started until the clock hit ten. But already desperate souls hovered aimlessly looking for a direction; she was more than glad to provide one.

As she was about to approach a frequent customer the lights of a black Lexus dissolved her vision.

Shit. She thought glancing at the approaching car.

Sure enough the driver pulled up besides her rolling the windows down.

"Get in." The driver ordered in a low voice.

"I'm working right n-"

"I said get in." The voice cut her off speaking more harshly. Dominique knew she couldn't escape, so she slid into the passengers seat obediently. The driver nodded approvingly as he drove toward a destination familiar to them both.

"Shit," she breathed again. It was never a good sign when Legato came looking for you. She glanced at the silent driver, wondering what it was he had in store for her. As they near their destination, she got a sinking feeling she didn't want to find out.

TBC

End Notes: Hopefully that wasn't disappointing, I feel so bad for not updating in a while. Anyway don't fret, part deuce is almost done. Its cold, its 4 am, I'm sleepy, tired, and its snowing outside…Peace out.