Author's Note: I finally finished this shit! Fi-na-lly! Man I hated this chapter from the start, I'm so glad its done. Took a while because I had a lot of shit riding my ass, but here it, is the end to chp 4. The loooooooooooongest chapter thus far, even after I split it in two. The funny thing is, that this chapter is the same size as the other four combined, woot that's a lot of writing
The Perfect Drug
Chapter 4
You're the only that's understood
Part 2
The black Lexus sped through traffic on the streets. Legato's gloved hands griped the steering wheel as he slid in and out traffic. The half-opened windows ushered in a rapid breeze sending Dominique's jet black hair spiraling around her. Beside her, Legato's amber eyes stayed transfixed on the road as he dodged cars like flying bullets. His pale blue hair fell lazily across his face shrouding away any flicker of emotion. They traveled in silence except for a few car horns aimed in their direction.
Dominique's head was a whirlwind. Outside she appeared calm and relaxed, but inside her heart was palpitating too fast for her to bear.
What does he want from me? I haven't done anything wrong, have I? She thought, nibbling on her bottom lip. Maybe it was something I said…
Flustered, and beyond nervous, she instinctively raised her fingers towards her mouth and began to bite her nails. Dominique's nervousness was due to the reputation Legato had. He was known as the harbinger of tragedy. Nothing good ever came from encounters with him; at least that's what she heard.
Legato was a member of the Gun Ho Guns, but in a higher rank then the rest. Or what Midvalley liked to call, the official 'Knive's bitch' position. He spent every hour of the day with Knives. The only time he talked to the rest of the crew was when he brought them their missions. Spending time with him other than to receive missions could only end in tragedy. That's what happened to the last people who met up with him.
There was something disconcerting about him. Just looking at Legato made Dominique's skin crawl. He wasn't bad looking; he was just creepy. The intensity of his presence unnerved her. It was as though he could read every single thought in her mind. No matter how good someone could be at lying, the truth always managed to surface when Legato was the one asking the questions.
Not finding a possible scenario for Legato's appearance, Dominique resigned herself to view the world passing by her window. The pounding of the wind outside slowly began to fade; signaling the car coming to a stop.
"We're here," Legato's smooth tenor voice proclaimed over the loud music emitting from a club. Slipping her hand onto the cold door handle, Dominique opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle.
An acid green sign burned down on her thin form. Glancing up, she saw the flickering lights spell out something she did not want to see; Gunsmoke.
So it isn't Legato who I have to deal with… it's Knives.
***
The young kid in the tattoo parlor had reminded Wolfwood of some of the most important people in his life. Pulling his bike onto a deserted driveway, he proceeded into a small-dilapidated building in the outskirts of town.
The building was an orphanage that many children called home. Wolfwood had grown up in the same orphanage years ago. A small church used to be attached to it, but that church had been destroyed during a bomb raid. The orphanage had been rebuilt over the years, but the church still laid in a pile of rubble. Though the church was no longer standing, the building still brought a state of nostalgia upon Wolfwood. The empty halls still vibrated with voices of the past, some dead, but still lingering in his heart.
He slowly approached the receptionist desk were a young brunette was furiously scribbling on a notepad. Her desk was littered with papers. She had several pencils tucked behind her left ear and a couple of sticky notes stuck on her tight black shirt.
Wolfwood allowed himself to smile at the site. After so many years she was still the messiest person he knew. He sat on the desk, causing her to jump in surprise. "Hey Alex," he murmured looking down at her. Her eyes widened in surprise behind her thick glasses.
"Nick!" she squealed upon recognizing his face. Immediately she jumped out from her chair and into his arms. A flurry of papers followed, as they slipped from her desk and onto the floor. The pencils that had dangled precariously on her ears slipped and banged noisily on the oak desk. She didn't mind the mess at all though, there was nothing more important than the person standing before her. "Oh my God, Nick, where have you been?" she asked tightening her grip on him.
"Working." he replied wrapping his arms around her small waist.
"I haven't seen you in so long," she mused, "You haven't been in school in like…forever!"
"I'm living on my own, I have bills to pay."
"I know, I know, but I still missed you like crazy." She said patting his cheek affectionately. "So did you come to see the kids?"
"Of course, I miss the little rats."
She laughed as she let go of her lethal grip, "Well Chapel is playing with them right now in the living area."
"Thanks Lexus" Wolfwood said getting up from the desk.
"No problem." she responded smiling brightly at the usage of her nickname. "Maybe I'll see you in school again."
"Yea, who knows. One of these days I may just make a special appearance," he laughed running his hand through her brown tangled hair. She snorted amusedly leaning into his touch.
"Keep your head up, ok?" he whispered placing a kiss on her forehead before disappearing through the hall.
Alex smiled as she went back to work.
I'll keep my head up…As long as you keep your on…She thought as she went back to filing documents with a new found energy.
Wolfwood passed through dimly lit halls that were plastered with children's drawings. Most were nonsensical doodles, scribbles, and such, but some had deeper meanings behind them. One drawing that always caught his attention was one of an apartment building. On the sidewalk, in waxy gray crayons, were several dead bodies, with pools of blood surrounding them. It seemed so tragic that a child would carry that grotesque image for the rest of their lives.
The cruelty of the streets still affected most of the kids in the orphanage. The reason why kids even found themselves in an orphanage was because of the oppression in the streets. Family's were destroyed and torn apart by violence. Whether it was domestic violence, or violence on the streets, death was familiar to all the kids in the orphanage. War tore parents away from their children and caused many to be homeless. Growing up without a mother or father figure was common. Loosing family members at a young age was how the story went for most of the kids in the orphanage.
Finally reaching the living area, he found Chapel being assaulted by several kids. Wolfwood stood off in the corner watching the children bounce around jubilantly. Their small smiling faces not marred by the imperfections of the world. They grinned and laughed as if they had no worries. Which was true, they didn't have to worry about paying bills or making money. The chaos outside the orphanage did not exist. Their childhood was intact, and for that itself, Wolfwood could allow himself a smile.
He was so busy watching the kids, that he failed to notice a small figure walking towards him. A five-year-old girl had emerged from her room. She stumbled sleepily over her long pajama pants, but managed to make the long trek to where Wolfwood stood. She scrutinized the tall boy before her; eyeing his features carefully.
"Nicky? She whispered looking at him curiously.
Startled, Wolfwood looked down to see the five year old looking into his eyes expectantly.
"Hey sweetie," he whispered kneeling down in front of her. Her onyx eyes widened with excitement as the traces of sleep left her.
"Nicky!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, lunging into his arms.
In a matter of seconds, he found himself on the floor with an army of children on top. Various shouts and cries of "Nicky!" insued as the kids began to latch on to him.
"Finally," Chapel sighed, over the hysterical shouting. "I was wondering how I would get them off me."
Wolfwood giggled underneath the small army of limbs.
"It's good to finally see you again Nicholas," Chapel stated pulling the younger man out of the pile.
"It's good to see you too." Wolfwood replied getting up. He stood in the place he had been struggling to run away from for so long. Looking into Chapels lens covered eyes, he smiled, "It's good to be back home."
***
The climb up the dingy stairs felt as though it took an eternity. Finally standing outside of Knive's office Dominique felt the butterflies in her stomach start acting up again. Instead of pretty butterflies fluttering about, she felt huge hairy moths drudging around her insides; simply put she felt sick.
Legato unlocked the door sliding it open. Pressing his hand against the brunette's back, Legato promptly shoved Dominique inside, closing the door behind her.
"Dominique its such a pleasure to see you." A voice exclaimed in front of her.
Adjusting to the light around her, Dominique noticed the figure of Knives standing behind his desk. She stood by the entrance, awkwardly looking around. It was the first time she had ever set foot in his office. The pangs of anxiety she had been feeling began to form into curiosity. She forgot all about the blonde standing before her, and allowed her eyes to roam the perimeter. She was impressed by how luxurious his office was. Knives was known to be involved in shady business, so she was aware he had money, but definitely not the mad dough his office showed.
The room was small, but two walls composed of glass, gave the effect of a larger room; stretching into the city skyline. The office was furnished industrially with a lot of silver and metal. The walls were painted a warm chrome set of by silver frames that held paintings of grotesque images. Paintings of disfigured bodies, and decapitated heads; Dominique wasn't too surprised at Knive's taste in aesthetics. Though the room felt metallic and cold, the splays of warmth on the walls made it feel more homely. It made Dominique feel more at ease, even with the psychotic paintings all around her. The room was warm and cold all in one; even Knives set off that stark contrast of flesh and steel. His image reflected a battle of humanity against machinery. There was almost a robotic feel to his demeanor, as though he had been programmed to be faultless. Every strand of bleach blond hair was spiked to perfection. His skin was eerily translucent but glowed flawlessly under the warm lights. His eyes in contrast, were a piercing metallic blue which showed no feelings or emotions. His wardrobe was impeccable, there were no wrinkles or creases on his crisp attire. The only sign of his humanity was the unbuttoned top of his shirt along with the rolled up sleeves. He walked a thin line between being robotic and human.
Looking down at her rumpled dress, Dominique felt a little disheveled compared to her surroundings. Running a hand through her wind lashed hair, she slowly approached the feral being in front of her.
"How are you?" he asked stepping towards her.
"I'm fine," she answered as calmly as possible. "How are you?"
"Exceptionally good, now that I know you're doing well." He smiled placing a hand on her bare shoulder. The cold metal of his Rolex bumped against her skin, causing a shiver to run through her (1). Whether it was from the cold, or his presence, Dominique couldn't tell. She forced herself to look neutral, although she was scared stiff inside.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Knives voiced softly leaning against her.
"Not that I can think of," she answered truthfully, "To what are you referring to…exactly?"
Knives sighed placing his chin on the mass of black hair, "I'm referring to my brother," he said squeezing her shoulders. Dominique flinched as his fingers dug into her skin.
That's why he wanted to see me. He wanted to know about his brother…But how did he find out about that? Monev and E.G wouldn't have told him… And then there's Nick…but he wouldn't have said anything either…
Easing herself out of his grip, she sat on a nearby leather chair trying to gather her composure. "If you want me to confirm what you already know then I will. Today we saw someone that held a remarkable resemblance to you."
Knives leaned against the edge of his desk; arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her, "Is that all?"
"I just saw him briefly…" she responded waving her hand away as though to dismiss it. "The only person who might know more would be Nic-" Immediately cutting herself off, Dominique realized her mistake.
"Nicholas?" Knives prodded, eyebrows raised in a pleasant surprise
She tried to show indifference, but the look on her face was that of a deer caught in a cars headlights.
"Thank you Dominique, that's all I needed," Knives smiled as he pressed a button on his desk. The metallic door slid open revealing Legato patiently waiting to escort her out.
***
In the club masses of bodies pressed together as they danced to the frenzy of sounds emitting from E.G's turntables. (2) Underneath the rage of the strobe lights E.G stood behind a set of turntables, trying to figure out what vinyl was which. Though he knew how to DJ, he had no idea what songs to play. Wolfwood was the one who had the playlist and knew what songs were in each vinyl. Without Wolfwood E.G was hopeless. It was impossible to figure out the music each vinyl contained. He had made a couple of random selections and ended playing nothing but slow dance songs. An electronic song was currently playing but the crowd was definitely getting restless. Gunsmoke was more of a dancehall club and E.G knew he better find a good jam soon. It was half past nine, and Wolfwood was nowhere to be found. Not to mention a rattled Dominique had just left the club accompanied by the freak of Legato. He looked up to where Knives office was located. Something was up.
***
Wolfwood looked down at the group of children starring up at him with puppy dog eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, don't do this. I have to go to work," he explained sadly, "but you know I'll be back."
If it were possible, their eyes enlarged glistening with unshed tears. Their bottom lips began quivering simultaneously, in a weak attempt to keep him in the orphanage. Wolfwood sighed feeling his heart leaden. He hated leaving, because he never knew when he'd be able to see the children again.
"I promise I'll be back as soon as possible, ok?" It was the best he could do, promise them. They reluctantly nodded, wiping away tears that had been threatening to leak.
"Ok, group hug," he said breaking the tension. The kids giggled and tried their best to fit into his arms all at once. "Now you guys be good. Listen to Alex and Chapel, and I don't want to hear any more complaints about the nuns. You beter know your Hail Mary when I come back." He warned releasing his grip on them.
"Ok!" they exclaimed jumping up and down. Wolfwood grinned at their eagerness. Waving one last time he left the orphanage.
****
"Where da fuck were you?" E.G growled, as Wolfwood finally appeared running up the staircase. "I thought I was gonna have to DJ all night."
"I went to the orphanage." Wolfwood answered as he hastily ran to the booth. He quickly began to flip through the vinyl crates picking out the records they would need for the night. Picking out a Ruff Ryder vinyl, he set up his table, grimacing at the odd collection of sounds that were emitting from the spiky haired ones turntable. "What the fuck is that?" he asked horrified.
"How should I know, man, I don't know what da hells in this shit!" E.G growled over the weird jumbled electronic beats. "We need to start labeling all this bootlegged shit," he motioned pointing at the unlabeled records.
"You need to learn how to read, because the name is in the inside!" Wolfwood exclaimed showing E.G the inside covers. In black typed letters was the name of the artist, album, and genre.
E.G blinked starring at the perfectly labeled records, "Man, I can't read your handwriting" he grumbled.
Shaking his head Wolfwood slipped on his headphones as he let Down Bottom run. As soon as the opening of the song began to sear across the club, the crowd instantly became swept up in its rhythm. They began to dance and shout the lyrics, as though it was the anthem for the streets.
"Hell yea we bust our guns!"(3)
Wolfwood smiled approvingly at the sight below them, "See only I can rile em up like that."
E.G scowled, "It's cause I wuz here to warm em up for ya." he muttered walking out of their booth. "I'm a get us some drinks, ya dig?"
"Yea bring me a Corona." Wolfwood said as he began to set up for a blend.
The orphanage was something that kept him alive, spinning vinyl kept him sane. There was something almost therapeutic about scratching, creating, blending, and synchronizing sounds to a melodic level of harmony. It was like finding peace of mind. Finding a small part of Eden in this whirlwind of life. His mind was slowly losing itself in the music when the weight of someone's stare caused his eyes to snap open.
Standing behind him hidden in the shadows was Legato. His golden eyes flashing under the dark lighting. He approached the DJ booth stealthily enough to make Wolfwood wonder if he had moved at all.
"Knives wants to see you," he said through a voice that sounded like crushed velvet. Soft and silky, but raw and unnerving.
"R-Right now?" Wolfwood asked sounding shakier than he wanted.
"Right now," Legato smiled, eyes glowing under the strobe lights. He began to walk away, and Wolfwood quickly followed the retreating figure.
Knives wants to see…me? He thought following Legato. This can't be good. Conjuring up all the possible reasons Knives would want to see him, he could only come up with one; Vash.
Wolfwood was so busy thinking about who could of leaked the info that he didn't even notice the climb up the dark stairs nor the wait in front of Knive's door. When he realized the only person who could of told was Dominique, he was already standing a couple of feet away from Knives.
"Wolfwood, it's nice to see you." Knives stated greeting him.
"Whaddup Knivez" Wolfwood responded as he plopped onto the leather armchair that Dominique had occupied earlier.
The blonde glared, but kept up his facade. "It appears you have some information I want."
"And what would that be?" Wolfwood asked searching for his cigarettes.
"Don't play dumb Nick, you know exactly what I want."
Wolfwood arched an eyebrow eyeing Knives quizzically, "I really don't know what you're talking about, so why not make it specific," he stated pulling out a crumpled pack.
Knives approached Wolfwood the same way he had done with Dominique, in a way that could only be described as predatory. "Don't even try to fuck with me Nick," he growled snatching the cigarette that Wolfwood had just pulled out. "I'm the last person alive you would want to fuck with," he snarled as his hand crushed the white cylinder.
Wolfwood looked on half intimidated half annoyed. The last thing he wanted was for his limbs to end up like the cigarette in Knive's hand. He didn't doubt in a second what Knive's was capable of. If inspired Knive's might even make a nice pie out of his severed body parts to send his relatives. Just the thought itself caused bile to rise in his throat.
"It's about Vash isn't it?" Wolfwood asked taking another cigarette out.
"Yes," Knives answered becoming silent as he stared out the window overlooking the city. "I want you to protect him."
Wolfwood stared at the blonde speechlessly. For as long as he could remember Legato was always the one who gave out missions and assignments. Knives never told them directly what they had to do, and all of sudden Knives demanded to see him in his office to give him an assignment?
"Say wha?"
Knives glared at the perplexed boy; he wasn't one to repeat things twice. " I want you to protect him. I want no harm to come to him. I want you to hold him under close supervision, and watch every one of his moves."
Wolfwood sat dumbfounded for a while as he let the mission sink in. "Wait, your asking me to watch over him?" he looked at Knives with an expression of deep confusion. "I can't be watching over him 24/7, I have a job, school to attend, and not to mention a life!"
Knives is being ridiculous not to mention inconsiderate. There is no way that I'm going to put my life on hold for an assignment. I'm not gonna be a fucking babysitter…He thought angrily.
"Even if I do watch every single move he makes, wouldn't it be obvious? He probably would think I'm a stalker or some shit, I mean no offense Knives but this is a pretty lousy mission." He gritted through the cigarette in his mouth as he fumbled with his lighter.
Knives glowered, "I don't care what you have to do, sleep outside his window every night if that's what will get the job accomplished, but if Vash gets hurt in any way, you're the one who's going to pay the price."
Wolfwood sat there, cigarette dangling from his lips, "Why me?"
So many thoughts and questions were racing through his head. The day had been one of those that never ends, and just when he thought he could scratch and relax, Knives decided to drop a bombshell on him. He couldn't help but feel slightly ticked off. "Wouldn't this type of thing be easier for someone like Dominique? I'm sure she could probably find a million excuses to stay in his bedroom."
"Everyone else will receive very important missions. This is the one I decided to designate to you, but you're already making excuses." Knives snapped as he paced the room, "maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you're not capable of being anything but a petty thug on the street."
Wolfwood didn't respond. Knive's words were like a slap across his face. If there was one thing Wolfwood couldn't stand, it was being told that he could never amount to anything.
Knives began to speak calmly once more, "Don't worry about your job or the money. You'll be getting a pay check from me every week, which should be enough to take care of you and Vash."
"The money isn't a problem," Wolfwood stated hiding behind a billow of smoke.
"Oh really, then what is? Why are you being so reluctant?" Knives asked, carefully watching the other boys expression.
"I…" Wolfwood trailed off thinking hard.
Why am I being reluctant? Any other time I would be jumping at the possibility of an assignment. Why don't I want to accept this?
"No reason I guess," he muttered weakly still not being able to work through his feelings.
"Well in that case I want you to transfer to his school as soon as possible," Knives said handing Wolfwood a small stack of papers. "I trust it won't be too much trouble for you?"
"No of course not. I'll transfer tonight." Wolfwood stated flipping through the crisp white pages.
Knives smiled for the first time. Not a genuine smile, but a sinister one that hinted satisfaction. "Good, it's your duty to protect him and make him happy, got it?"
Wolfwood stopped flipping through the pages in order to look up at Knives, "Whoa, you said nothing about making him happy." he protested.
"I just did."
Wolfwood tried to open his mouth in order to protest, but closed it shut knowing damn well that it wouldn't do any good to argue.
"Well then I'm assuming you accept."
Wolfwood nodded reluctantly. Getting up Knives walked back to his desk, "Just in case something does happen to my brother, I won't take it out on you."
Startled, Wolfwood looked up at those freezing blue orbs.
"It will be the children at the orphanage who will pay the price for your mistakes."
Wolfwood's jaw dropped. How could Knives know about them? How the fuck did he find out?
"I know everything about everyone, understand? It makes no use hiding, because eventually I'll find out." He told the boy smiling bemusedly at his shocked expression. "Are there any questions?" he asked turning his attention from the gaping boy to the club below.
"N-no..." Wolfwood stuttered in pure shock.
"Good, now don't disappoint me." He stated grinning.
Wolfwood stood up shakily. What did I just get myself into? He thought as he left the presence of a true maniac.
****
It felt unusually cold. Vash rubbed his hands up and down his arms in order to warm himself up. His vision was blurry, but even through the haze of sleep he found a steel gaze wrapped around him.
"Brother, are you ok?"
"I'm fine." He heard himself speak. The voice sounded young and childish.
"We have to get out of here." He could hear the voice and the gaze behind those words, but everything else was lost in the darkness of his subconscious.
He felt himself nod at the words and began to search for an escape.
Silver, metal, cold, dark, steel, "I can't find a way out"
A hand pressing against a metal door; alarms going off. Vash felt dizy, the once dark blue room was swimming in bright red; he felt hot.
"I can't-I'm scared…" He said falling back, eyes closing.
Blue, red, orange, black.
"Brother don't leave me…have too…"
"I can't," he felt himself whisper again, "I just can't do it." Ice blue orbs stared back at him, accusingly. "I'm sorry," he felt the words leave his throat, dying as he hit the cold metallic floor.
Vash awoke in a cold sweat. He struggled to catch his breath, drowning in the stuffy room. Groping around for his blankets, he threw them on to the floor and slipped out of bed. The heat in his room was unberable. He brushed away the sweat trickling down his forehead as he opened one of his windows. The cold night air blasted against his warm skin. Breathing more calmly he relaxed and tried to dislodge those eyes from his mind. But they remained.
Ice blue; almost a perfect replica of his own, except they were darker…colder. They had haunted his dreams before, but the images were coming stronger now. It seemed as though the dream was becoming clearer every day... Before it was just sounds and flashes of colors. Now there were voices; images and a feeling in his chest. Vash ran a hand across his chest feeling the rhythm of his heart. He felt sad, that was the only way to describe the feeling; sadness and…hurt?
Picking up a gray hoodie from his cluttered floor, Vash left his room, and went down the long spiral stairs. He made his way towards the kitchen and slipped on his burgundy Puma's which he had left there hours ago. He couldn't fall asleep even if he had tried. The images were to fresh, the feeling to urgent.
Pocketing his keys he gently opened the door, as to not make a sound, and crept out into the night.
***
Wolfwood was currently sitting in a park bench smoking away. The hazy wisps of smoke curled around his face, clouding his vision, as his minds current state. His mind was a jumbled mess of questions and accusations, feelings and resentments. He tried to keep order of what he was thinking, but it was useless since the thoughts rushed at him a million miles per hour.
"What the hell am I getting into?" he asked aloud.
He had just spent an hour hacking into the schools computer. He had easily broken into the schools database, and managed to enroll himself into Vashs classes. Unfortunately for him, most of Vash's classes were advanced placement. So to get into most of those had to create an imaginary school record. With the record he had in his old high school he probably wouldn't even be allowed to step foot into this school. Problem was, he didn't know how long he would have to spend watching over Vash and failing an advance level class meant he would have to drop out of it.
I can't believe I'm actually going through with this. I have to be one stupid ass motherfucker, he thought bitterly finishing his cigarette.
***
Vash shivered as he stepped into the cold night. As soon as he was out of sight from his house, he broke into a run. The cold night air slamming against his warm skin; sweat instantly drying against the cold breeze. He ran trying to get the feeling out of his chest. It hurt, and he could feel hot tears creeping in his eyes.
Why do I want to cry so badly? Why do I feel so much pain right now?
He quickened his pace practically flying down the street.
He called me brother…But it's just a dream, nothing more, I don't have a brother…I'm an only child. But then why am I so sad? Maybe I did have an older brother. Maybe he died… but then why wouldn't I remember? Why would Rem keep it away from me? She wouldn't do that…
His muscles were getting tired, he was staring to gasp for breath, but he urged his body on, almost as if he could reach the answer that way.
There'd be pictures, a birth certificate, but there's nothing. Nothing to prove the existence of a sibling. But his eyes-I-I feel as though I betrayed him…I betrayed him…
Vash was so lost in thought he didn't even notice the person walking in front of him. Colliding into another body, they both tumbled onto the ground. Vash landed face down on the wet grass. He laid there gripping the blades of grass in his hand, not moving, not feeling.
"Damn…Are you ok?" a rather hoarse male voice asked standing up. Vash felt a weight lift of his legs, and began to push himself of the ground.
"I'm fine…" he whispered trying not to cry.
"Vash?"
Slowly turning around Vash looked up to meet stormy gray eyes.
"Wolfwood?" he asked trying to keep the shakiness in his voice from showing.
"Vash, are you ok?" Wolfwood asked worriedly looking at him. His eyes were gleaming with unshed tears, his voice was quivering, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears.
"I'm fine," the blonde whispered again, not being able to stop the trembling in his voice.
Wolfwood stood there awkwardly wondering what to do. Looking down at the shaky blonde he did the only thing he could do; wrap his arms around him. Vash eagerly accepted the contact and wrapped his arms around Wolfwood's neck. Pressing his face against Wolfwood's chest Vash could feel the hot tears leaking out. He let go of the pain building up inside of him, and let the tormenting tears finally spill out.
"Oh Vash I'm sorry," Wolfwood whispered wrapping his arms around the smaller ones waist, "I should have been watching were I was going…"
"It's not that," Vash whispered hoarsely in-between sobs. His small frame shaking as he crumbled onto the ground. Wolfwood followed him shortly, scooping him into his arms.
"Whatever it is, it's ok." Wolfwood whispered trying to comfort him. The blonde simply clutched on to him, not wanting to ever let go. Wolfwood felt his heart breaking at the sound of Vash crying. He sounded heart broken. He ran his fingers up and down his arm trying to calm him down.
He's so small and innocent. He doesn't deserve this, Wolfwood thought bitterly, he doesn't deserve to have a lunatic as a brother…He knew Vash was unaware of Knives existence. Legato had spilled some secrets to the Gun Ho Guns one night. He told them Knives was a raving lunatic obsessed with his brother. He told them how Knives haunted his brother, how he hadn't said, but Wolfwood could tell Vash was haunted by a memory he didn't even know existed
Wolfwood closed his eyes feeling the turmoil running through him. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He was going to lie to Vash, keep away a secret he had the right to know. It was his mission to take care of Vash, but Wolfwood knew it was more than that. He wasn't sitting on the cold wet grass in the middle of the night because of Knives. He was sitting there because of Vash. He wanted to help Vash, he wanted to protect him, take care of him…maybe even make him happy…
But I'm going to lie to him; I'm going to let him suffer…I'm going to break his heart…
With Vash lying in his arms, desperately hanging on, Wolfwood felt an ache inside of him. He felt tears prick in his eyes as he looked at the tear streaked face.
"I'm sorry," Vash whispered sniffling.
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Wolfwood replied brushing away the tears that traveled down the porcelain skin. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers raced down Vash's cheek towards his lips.
"I shouldn't have, I-I probably messed up your shirt," the blonde whimpered, ashamed that he had gotten carried away with his emotions.
"Don't worry about it," Wolfwood breathed against the pale skin, inches away from his lips, "It's not important…"
Vash shook his head closing his eyes shut. He placed his forehand in his hands, trying to get away from the haunting image that followed him. Wolfwood placed his chin on top of the blonde spikes, bringing Vash's small body against his own. They sat there, in the middle of the night, both lost in the oblivion of the their thoughts.
I'm going to regret this…
TBC
End Notes: Wasn't that long? I felt that shit took 4eva to write. Whew, *wipes away imaginary sweat*
Ok I won't write for a loong time, god knows how long, so I wanted to point out why. I cannot write simple fics, my life would be easier if I did, but I can't. There's always a complicated plot, and that's how I screw myself over. This fic is no exception, I know the summary is just like 'oh high school,' but unfortunately its gonna get deeper than that. So I got to go back to the drawing board and make sure I don't dig myself into a hole.
Next, there are a lot of Trigun characters running around, and I want to make sure they all get properly developed. They are all inter-linked in here, and I want to make sure no one gets fucked over or brushed aside. Everyone's important, and I've been getting too OOC with them.
Lastly, I'm not satisfied with the direction the story is going in. It took 4 chapters to get through one day, ONE day! I can just imagine how many chpters it'll take for day two…Also originally this was about drugs and high school, and there hasn't been a lot of that. So I have to go back and regroup my plot. Not to mention, I'm letting my experiences get into the fic, this story is about them, not me, so I need to stop doing that. And I need to stop with all the street life. This story aint about the streets, it aint about the ghettos or the hoods. This fic is about two ppl becoming addicted to something forbidden, (one another ^_^) so no street dreams, I'll save that for my next Trigun fic called: From the Window in my Room, but that's another story…
So anyways, I'll be back soon, and maybe wen I do come back I'll be a stronger writer, cuz this fic gots potential and I'd hate to be the one to screw it up. Not too bad for a ghetto girl
(1) Knives be blingin!
(2) Everytime I see ''In the club' that song gets stuck in my head. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go shwarty It's shour birthday, sike I'm not gonna sing it.
(3) I love that song, and it is the anthem for da streets, or at least it was, back in da day… Man I sound old
I wanna give a shout out to all the people who reviewed, you rock! And to all the ppl who don't review, you guys rock too! And Mad Producer, if I you are who I think you are, then you need to stop talking smack fool, cuz my ryhmes be iller than the shit you be spitin! Lol, go back to listening to Justin Timberlake you rapper wannabe, stick to the pop bullshit, cuz this game is for the real ryders! And I bought Meteora and it rocked, so take that! Woo Linkin Park! Alright I'll stop, whoa I'm in the middle of ho-where!
Shameless plug: Check out my gallery it has 2 V/W pics so check if yas bored, you have to go to profile and click on the homepage link to get there, um yea or something, yo I don't know man, don't ask me I'm high!
