Disclaimer: I don't own anything Trigun, so don't sue me please, thank you!
Tying Up Loose Ends
Chapter Seven
Rise and Shine
Vash awoke, the first of the two to regain consciousness. His whole body felt kind of numb at first, and then tingled as he shifted over to his side, like every limb had fallen asleep with him and decided to wake up then too. He breathed in slow and easy, waiting for the discomfort to pass. When at last it did, stiffness replaced the numbness, especially in his chest and side. It felt as if all the muscles in those two areas were tense, so he gently began to knead them out, starting with his side and then moving to his chest. When his finger tips grazed bare skin over his heart he stopped, bewildered. Something seemed wrong, something wasn't right. The fog in his mind lifted slowly and he remembered.
That woman, the healer, she had offered to get rid of the grating; he struggled to remember her name. Edwina was it? Vash, in what he marked down as a drug-induced slip in judgment, had agreed to it. It seemed wrong now, agreeing to the woman's proposal. An odd mix of liberty and sadness bothered him as he realized a part of him had disappeared for good.
"Don't be silly," he thought to himself, "how could a hunk of metal running through my chest have anything to do with who I am. Besides, what's done is done."
This false sense of indifference almost covered up the fact that it still bothered him, especially a certain thought that managed to worm its way through Vash's logic. Maybe the metal didn't make up a component of his personality, but it was a part of his experiences; those experiences, they were what made him Vash, and he didn't want to forget a single one of them. His body acted almost as a scrapbook of memories, covered in reminders of all the sad ones. Of course he remembered the happy times, but those were easy to keep nestled in his mind and heart. It was the trying times that tested him and he passed that he needed to keep at hand, to prove he had survived and came out of them a stronger individual.
He sighed and turned his thoughts outward, letting his eyes roam across the room. Night had fallen, drenching the room in deep blues and blacks. The only other colors came from the pool of light falling around an old oil lamp that rested on the wall beside the door. A curtain of some heavy material hung in the doorway, blocking Vash's view of anything outside of the room. He could see vague shapes in the darkness, noticing Wolfwood's still figure on a low couch across the room. The priest seemed to be sleeping soundly, his breathing slow and deep.
Vash noted that the high cot he laid on rested against the outside wall, with windows just past his head and feet. The curtains were drawn but the windows stood open, allowing the breeze to lazily push the gauzy fabric away from the wall and their resting places. A tall, long counter ran along the wall opposite the door and had on it what Vash assumed to be two piles of clothes. With a glance under the covers, Vash realized why.
All that remained of his torn, worn, and blood-stained clothes was the pair of boxers still girding his loins, and even it should have probably went with its comrades to the dumpster. She had been kind enough to leave him a shred of his decency. At that thought Vash reddened markedly. A strange woman had seen so much of his battered and beaten body, all while he was unconscious. Vash glanced over to his friend and noticed a naked shoulder peeking out from beneath the blanket; at least Wolfwood had probably lost his privacy as well.
"You idiot," he chided himself again, "she's a healer. She's probably seen plenty of half-naked men in her line of work. It's all a part of what she does!"
Again, his self-reproof almost, but not quite, made him feel better. And again, another ridiculous thought wiggled its way past his logic. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered him so much if she had been fifty years older or something. Anything but young and, if he remembered correctly and the pain hadn't skewed his vision, kind of attractive. He thought she looked kind of lovely, but those eyes. Her professional bedside manner couldn't hide the pain, fatigue, and sadness in those eyes. He also wished she didn't have to see all his scars; they could make a grown man sick and usually scared women. He saw her pause when she first got a look at them and knew they had surprised her, someone who probably had seen plenty of pretty bad things done to the human body.
The cool wind rolled over his skin and Vash shivered. He wondered why he had put so much time into thinking about this woman and not what he needed to be his next move. The realization that Knives still roamed free came crashing back in on his poor skull and his expression as well as his manner turned grim. He considered getting dressed and slipping out on his own to continue the search, but that wouldn't be wise. Vash had no supplies, dwindling funds, and, oh yeah, no frickin' clue where Knives could possibly be. That, and some delicious aroma lazily sauntered in from the kitchen, reminding Vash that he honestly couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.
Vash slid slowly down from the cot, making sure his legs would support him while trying to keep the blanket as wrapped around his mostly naked form as possible. His feet landed on something soft and almost furry; a little surprise, Vash looked down to see he stood upon a pair of fuzzy slippers. His toes thanked him profusely when he slipped them on, since they had become quite chilled in the evening air. Shuffling across the hardwood floor to the counter he examined the two piles of clothes and found the set that would most likely fit his tall, skinny frame.
The clothes were used, but still in good condition. Vash wrapped the blanket around his waist before pulling the hooded sweatshirt on over his head; he wanted to keep as covered as possible. His hair, all mussed up, crackled quietly with static electricity and managed to stick up in an even odder hairdo. He stepped out of the slippers a moment onto the cool floor and quickly switched his current pair of shorts for the fresh-out-of-the- package pair in the pile. He then pulled on the pants beneath his make- shift cover. The slippers were put back on and the blanket neatly folded and placed on the cot.
She, pretty sure it's Edwina, had done her best, but due to the last minute notice that she would need men's clothing on hand, it was less than a perfect fit. The sweatshirt fit well enough and the jeans were a little big in the waist but perfectly suitable, except they fell to about mid-calf. Vash held up the other pair to see if they were any longer, but if anything, they were shorter. No matter, he had tough ankles that wouldn't complain about such a silly thing as a draft. His toes maybe, but not his ankles.
Vash shuffled out into the entryway and down the hall, following his nose to where he assumed the kitchen would be. A warm light rolled down the hallway, subtly illuminating what would otherwise be a dark corridor. A glint of light on glass caught Vash's eye and he turned to see four pictures of the same woman. He examined them a little closer and realized that no, they weren't exactly the same. The first three could have been identical triplets if it weren't for the varying amount of black in their fair hair and the shifts in fashion. Vash squinted at the last picture, pretty sure it was Edwina, the healer. She looked similar to the other three, but only vaguely. Family, maybe?
Hunger pulled Vash onward, not allowing him time to contemplate why something about those pictures gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach. The first three and their hair. All thoughts of this hurriedly dissipated when he turned the corner, (although not before looking in the mirror and realizing that he looked absolutely wretched), and wandered into the coziest, most pleasant kitchen he had seen in years.
It wasn't cutesy or overtly feminine, but the warm yellows on the walls, the shiny black and white tile floor, and the rich, wood cabinets and countertops came together in a cheery combination. Clean pots and pans hung from a rack above a butcher block island that had laying on it the remnants of whatever vegetables had gone into all the dishes hissing and bubbling away on the stove top. A heavy, old table, worn and nicked but still proud of its incredible craftsmanship, stood off to the left from the cooking area and had four places set. The dishes were of a sturdy stoneware, glazed in brilliant blues and greens with tall mugs to match. Silverware rested on real linen napkins and in the center of the table sat a huge bowl filled with colorful greens, tomatoes, carrots, and half a dozen other salad toppings on a bed of probably three different kinds of lettuce. Rolls laid nestled in a basket, tucked in under another napkin. Real butter laid in a dish next to them.
Vash wiped the drool off his chin and turned to the stove where the most delicious smells were coming from. In one pot enough spaghetti noodles were simmering to feed a small battalion. Fresh green beans cooked on another burner and squash popped and sizzled in a shallow pan on another. The fourth pot held the spaghetti sauce, so thick and tasty-looking that Vash couldn't resist dipping a finger in and seeing if it really was as good as it seemed.
"Aha! I knew you were a thief and a rogue!" someone shouted from behind him. He turned to see her, Edwina, glaring at him from across the table and the rest of the kitchen as she stood in the doorway to another back room. Vash froze like a deer in the headlights of a rapidly approaching vehicle. The woman laughed and relaxed her pose, walking into the room. He noticed she limped a little, something he didn't remember from earlier, but didn't say anything.
Edy's mood had improved greatly once she spilt all her thoughts, fears, and breakfast into the toilet; her wounds always healed faster out in the open air. Although all the worries and pain still existed within her heart and body, Edy had managed to push them away and go on with her life, the only way she knew how. Her healing sickness, as she called it, had ebbed away for the most part, except for a headache that lingered at the base of her skull and the difficulty walking. Pains shot up and down her legs but she refused to use her cane in front of strangers. Hell, she usually refused to use in front of her own self.
Vash responded in his overly-dramatic fashion by throwing his hands up in the air and whirling to face her, whimpering.
"Sorry ma'am, but I'm no thief, honest! Just a hungry body looking for a bite to eat, that's all," he exclaimed.
"Then you've come to the right kitchen," Edy said with a smile. "It's no wonder your body's starved after all the work it's had to do to fix you up. You're lucky I've honed my kitchen craft almost to a fine art. Sit, and I'll fix you up a plate."
Vash obeyed and took a place at the table. Edy hummed a song under her breath as she moved slowly but steadily around him, filling his glass, taking his plate, and piling it high with food. She turned from the stove and noticed his naked ankles underneath the table. Edy stifled a giggle.
"Sorry about the pants," she said as she laid the plate down in front of Vash, "but it's a little hard to judge a man's size when you only have to buy for your female self and a little boy. Oh, listen to me, Isaiah would kill me if he heard me say he was a little boy." She smiled and picked up a plate, heading back to the stove for her own supper. He made to get up and get it for her, his mouth full of spaghetti and his cheeks already rosy from globs of sauce. Edy made a motion that meant sit back down, and Vash slowly obliged. Before he could asked who Isaiah was, Edy spoke.
"How does your chest feel?" she asked, dishing herself up significantly less amounts of food. She hoped this meal would stay down when the second wave of healing sickness hit later on in the evening; Edy had learned early on, with any job even half the magnitude of this one, there was always a second wave. "I went ahead and took out every metal brace in your torso. I am sorry I'm not good enough to regenerate missing limbs," she added, her eyes straying to his left arm and back again to the task at hand.
"It feels great," he replied, quiet but pleased. The constant, dull pain that always acted as an undertone to his existence had lessened significantly and it really did feel great. This woman was something of a miracle worker. Vash still missed it all in his own way, but he had grown humble in his appreciation and embarrassment. "Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that, though. I can only pay you so much for your services to begin with and I hate to say that I don't have enough to properly repay you for your extra attention."
"I wasn't even going to ask for anything extra," she said as she sat down at the table, "it was nothing." She blended a truth with a lie, the lie punctuated by the pain in her legs creeping upward; the second wave had begun sooner than expected, but at least it eased its way in this time instead of hitting all at once. She continued on with truths. "I just have a soft spot for foundlings. Although, you really found me instead of the other way around."
So she really was as kind-hearted as himself, one of the motivations for her actions that Wolfwood had put forward, Vash thought.
Edy had sat down at the table across from the young man and looked him straight in his lovely, turquoise eyes. They are quite lovely, aren't they, she thought to herself. Out loud she posed the question that had only been answered by snores the night before, as well as others that had been rumbling about in her head.
"So, what do you and your friend go by? And if you don't mind me asking, what the hell happened to you guys? I'm sorry, that last question was rude of me, even though I do have a right to know if I put you two up for the night like I'm planning."
Vash swallowed and smiled awkwardly. She didn't sound very apologetic about asking the second question, but she had thrown in an offer of a place to stay for the night. Vash wanted to turn her down because she had done enough already, but he couldn't afford to pay her and then pay a hotel bill. He'd figure some way to pay her back for all her kindness. Reluctantly giving in, Vash spoke, smiling kindly.
"My name's Vash and my friend goes by Nicholas D. Wolfwood. We had a little trouble with bandits and wild animals on the road here," he replied, congenial but short.
"That much I figured from your wounds," she smiled back. "It's odd that you go by one name when your friend carries around three. But different strokes for different folks, I guess. So, there's nothing questionable about you two's characters, anything that might worry me to allow you to sleep under the same roof as my little brother Isaiah?"
Vash laughed at her almost abrasive and incredibly upfront manner. So Isaiah was her little brother, huh. What a protective older sister, mentioning only his safety, and not her own. Edy frowned at his laughter and he didn't care for her frown. He hastily explained his reason for the outburst.
"You've nothing to fear from me or Wolfwood; we look tough but I promise you, we're the good guys."
His last few words stuck in her craw for a moment, or would have if she actually had a craw. The good guys? Against what? Against whom? Even if they were "the good guys," there would be some "bad guy" that's out to get them, right? Would Isaiah be safe? Of course it would only be for one night. She probably wouldn't be able to sleep through the next bout of healing sickness so she would be on guard already. Still, why was she trying to come up with excuses to keep these men here?
Because they weren't well enough to go anywhere else tonight and Edy had no way to get them to a hotel, that's why. Edy just guided the body through the healing process at a speed much, much faster than normal, of course. As tiring as it was for her to "override" and speed up the body's systems, the patient's own self did the hard work, the actual healing. Vash and Nicholas D. Wolfwood couldn't probably do much more than make it to the kitchen, eat, and then make it to the beds she made up in the spare bedroom for just such an occasion. Her mother always insisted on following one's intuitions and Edy honestly felt no threat from these two men.
She realized Vash had been staring at her quizzically. She also realized she hadn't spoken for a few moments and her face held a negatively pensive expression. Edy made up her mind that they would stay for the evening so her face relaxed and she spoke.
"Oddly enough, I trust you. You'll stay the evening free of charge; consider it all part of the healing package. I'm the one who wore out your body to make it better so I'm the one who will make sure you're alright the first night after. No one will ever say Edy Gardener lacked in hospitality."
Vash still looked at her in the same manner, as if he was trying to figure something out, but he shook the idea away and continued his meal, chatting pleasantly with Edy, as she called herself, apparently preferring it over Edwina. Such a ridiculous notion, really, he thought to himself. How could he possibly clearly remember how much of her hair was black before as compared to now? Then she had her hair pulled back into a messy bun and now it was loose and trailing freely down her back and over her shoulders. Part of her hair couldn't have turned black in that time span; it was just silly. Humans didn't work like that.
* * * * *
It took Wolfwood far longer to stir from his deep slumber; it was a hard task for his body to recreate all the blood he lost as well as fight a case of rabies, so it needed a little bit longer to rest. He had no clue about the time, only that it was late evening. Staring at the dimly lit room, Wolfwood saw no Tongari but heard his distinct laughter coming from somewhere further back in the house. Another person laughed with him, full, loud, and female. Must be that Edwina woman.
Hunger grabbed his attention quickly and Wolfwood made no hesitation to get up and shuffle over to the pile of clothes left for him. A faded black sweater, jeans, and a brand new pair of boxers awaited him, as well as his own pair of fuzzy slippers; again the pants were short, but it was better than the alternative. Wolfwood didn't even take note of the fact that he had been asleep in his boxers around a strange woman; he was ravenous as well as antsy.
They had enough coinciding conscious time on the trip to February for Vash to explain to him what exactly was going on with Knives. After siding with Vash against his brother, the priest virtually cut himself off from the Gung Ho Guns. The chance still existed that he could get some information from those that remained about Knives' whereabouts, but it was very slim. At this point, though, it stood as their only option. Actually putting this option into action, however, was a whole other story.
He shuffled down the hall and into the kitchen, taking no time to notice the pictures, himself in the mirror, or how the kitchen looked so lovely. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene of his friend and the healer laughing and chattering like old friends. A bottle of vodka sat on the table amongst the leftovers of their meal, open and almost gone. Figures. He waited until they stopped laughing long enough to draw in shaky gasps of air and then stepped into the room.
Edy saw Vash's friend walk in and stood up so fast she almost knocked her chair over, she was so surprised; she hadn't even heard him coming and then he seemed to just pop out of the shadows. Her body urged her to sit back down, it's every nerve and fiber reeling from the second stint of healing sickness as it gained momentum, but Edy had imbibed enough liquor to successfully ignore it for the time being. Her cheeks were rosy but that was about the only sign that she had a bit to drink. Edy held her liquor well.
"So you're finally awake Mr. Wolfwood," she said with a somewhat sardonic smile. Edy had terrible time getting over first impressions and she still bore some bitterness against the man, especially since he had no time to prove her wrong yet. "Would you like something to eat? I've put it all away but I can heat some up for you. I'm sure you're starving."
Wolfwood nodded and tried to speak, but nothing came out but a hoarse gasp. He had failed to realize how stiff and sore his throat was still. He looked a little frantic and Edy took some pity on him. Her demeanor softened ever so slightly towards the priest.
"Don't worry, your voice will return in about a day or so; you put far too much strain on it after getting hurt and it was pretty torn up, inside and out. Your body had a lot of work for itself." Edy gave him a smile and met his eyes before turning back to reheating a meal for him. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Wolfwood. If your jugular had been cut or your esophagus damaged more than it already was you wouldn't have made it. It's a good thing you have such a good, strong, reliable friend as a traveling companion."
Wolfwood glared at Tongari with all the fury of God's wrath. What the hell did he tell her? From the sounds of it, the little spiky-haired runt had pumped his image up to a nice plump size; on a scale from demon to god, it probably ranked just below savior. Vash grinned and poured Wolfwood a drink. With angry zest he snatched it away and retreated to the doorway to the hall to console himself and his wounded pride.
"Oh, come on, Wolfwood, you know I'm not the real hero for saving your life," Vash said, only riling his friend up more. "You have Edy to thank for that."
Vash motioned to Edy who had her back turned, but because she had pulled her hair back again, exposing her neck, they could tell she had turned an even more brilliant color of red, judging from the blush that crept up towards her hair line. Wolfwood would have said his thanks then if he could, his anger lessening to the point that he wasn't going to take it out on an innocent bystander. Since he couldn't, he just stood there and sipped his drink.
As it turned out, the doorway probably was not the best place for Wolfwood to set up camp. The three of them heard the jingle of the bells as the front door opened and closed. A resounding woof echoed through the halls as a MIA Roscoe reappeared and loudly bounded down from the second floor to greet the visitor. Feet and paws thundered down the hall; a boy emerged first, pushing past Wolfwood, causing the man to fumble with his drink in an effort not to lose it to the rug beneath his feet. Only a second later, if even that, the gigantic dog shot straight through Wolfwood, or would have if he hadn't been a solid being.
Wolfwood hit the floor, tangled in dog and surrounded by laughter. He struggled to remove himself from the mess of dog legs, tail, and tongue when the boy whistled, calling the monster off. Wolfwood caught his breath, realized the front of his shirt and pants were very wet and vodka-scented. All this was getting to be too much. His bad humor had gone from cranky to just plain pissed off, and he was just begging for an outlet.
He looked up to find Edy had moved across the room and knelt down in front of him, checking him out to make sure he was okay. She did this without reserve or request for permission to do so, seeing it as part of her job. Her manner caused Wolfwood to pause, not knowing exactly what to do. Seeing he was fit to stand again, Edy stood up herself and held out her hand, helping him to his feet. The attentive and kind manner dissipated as she turned her attention to the boy who sat in the middle of the floor, covered in a hundred pounds of very, very, very happy dog. Edy bent down, scratching Roscoe behind the ears and addressed Isaiah as if their "guests" weren't even in the room.
"Isaiah, did everything go alright?" she asked, worry written all over her face. Vash and Wolfwood looked at each other, mildly surprised by this woman's sudden shift in temperament and confused considering they had no idea what she and the boy named Isaiah were talking about. Must be other business, Wolfwood thought with a shrug.
"Well enough, yeah. You'd better get out there tomorrow, though. He still needs help," Isaiah said, ignoring the dog for a moment, his own worried expression mirroring his sister's. "You'll be okay, won't you? I mean, after today and everything."
Vash and Wolfwood melted into the background, realizing they were treading on very private ground at that moment. They stood in the doorway to the other back room, turning their backs ever so slightly and tried not to listen in.
"Don't you worry about me, honey, I'm perfectly fine," Edy murmured, lying through her teeth. She couldn't tell if either the alcohol had begun to ebb out of her system or if the healing sickness had just reached its boiling point. It rolled over her in waves, making her legs quiver in fear of giving way beneath her. The pain in her neck exploded across the back of her skull at that very opportune time and she couldn't hold back a wince. It was definitely time to call it a night.
"Well, I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow," she said, turning to Vash and Wolfwood with a painted-on smile, "so let me show you where you'll be staying the night."
* * * * *
Myskin: Manga fans, you know exactly what I'm walking about with Vash in a hoodie. It only happened once, but it was so precious I knew it had to happen again. The fuzzy slippers too. ^_^
Tying Up Loose Ends
Chapter Seven
Rise and Shine
Vash awoke, the first of the two to regain consciousness. His whole body felt kind of numb at first, and then tingled as he shifted over to his side, like every limb had fallen asleep with him and decided to wake up then too. He breathed in slow and easy, waiting for the discomfort to pass. When at last it did, stiffness replaced the numbness, especially in his chest and side. It felt as if all the muscles in those two areas were tense, so he gently began to knead them out, starting with his side and then moving to his chest. When his finger tips grazed bare skin over his heart he stopped, bewildered. Something seemed wrong, something wasn't right. The fog in his mind lifted slowly and he remembered.
That woman, the healer, she had offered to get rid of the grating; he struggled to remember her name. Edwina was it? Vash, in what he marked down as a drug-induced slip in judgment, had agreed to it. It seemed wrong now, agreeing to the woman's proposal. An odd mix of liberty and sadness bothered him as he realized a part of him had disappeared for good.
"Don't be silly," he thought to himself, "how could a hunk of metal running through my chest have anything to do with who I am. Besides, what's done is done."
This false sense of indifference almost covered up the fact that it still bothered him, especially a certain thought that managed to worm its way through Vash's logic. Maybe the metal didn't make up a component of his personality, but it was a part of his experiences; those experiences, they were what made him Vash, and he didn't want to forget a single one of them. His body acted almost as a scrapbook of memories, covered in reminders of all the sad ones. Of course he remembered the happy times, but those were easy to keep nestled in his mind and heart. It was the trying times that tested him and he passed that he needed to keep at hand, to prove he had survived and came out of them a stronger individual.
He sighed and turned his thoughts outward, letting his eyes roam across the room. Night had fallen, drenching the room in deep blues and blacks. The only other colors came from the pool of light falling around an old oil lamp that rested on the wall beside the door. A curtain of some heavy material hung in the doorway, blocking Vash's view of anything outside of the room. He could see vague shapes in the darkness, noticing Wolfwood's still figure on a low couch across the room. The priest seemed to be sleeping soundly, his breathing slow and deep.
Vash noted that the high cot he laid on rested against the outside wall, with windows just past his head and feet. The curtains were drawn but the windows stood open, allowing the breeze to lazily push the gauzy fabric away from the wall and their resting places. A tall, long counter ran along the wall opposite the door and had on it what Vash assumed to be two piles of clothes. With a glance under the covers, Vash realized why.
All that remained of his torn, worn, and blood-stained clothes was the pair of boxers still girding his loins, and even it should have probably went with its comrades to the dumpster. She had been kind enough to leave him a shred of his decency. At that thought Vash reddened markedly. A strange woman had seen so much of his battered and beaten body, all while he was unconscious. Vash glanced over to his friend and noticed a naked shoulder peeking out from beneath the blanket; at least Wolfwood had probably lost his privacy as well.
"You idiot," he chided himself again, "she's a healer. She's probably seen plenty of half-naked men in her line of work. It's all a part of what she does!"
Again, his self-reproof almost, but not quite, made him feel better. And again, another ridiculous thought wiggled its way past his logic. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered him so much if she had been fifty years older or something. Anything but young and, if he remembered correctly and the pain hadn't skewed his vision, kind of attractive. He thought she looked kind of lovely, but those eyes. Her professional bedside manner couldn't hide the pain, fatigue, and sadness in those eyes. He also wished she didn't have to see all his scars; they could make a grown man sick and usually scared women. He saw her pause when she first got a look at them and knew they had surprised her, someone who probably had seen plenty of pretty bad things done to the human body.
The cool wind rolled over his skin and Vash shivered. He wondered why he had put so much time into thinking about this woman and not what he needed to be his next move. The realization that Knives still roamed free came crashing back in on his poor skull and his expression as well as his manner turned grim. He considered getting dressed and slipping out on his own to continue the search, but that wouldn't be wise. Vash had no supplies, dwindling funds, and, oh yeah, no frickin' clue where Knives could possibly be. That, and some delicious aroma lazily sauntered in from the kitchen, reminding Vash that he honestly couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.
Vash slid slowly down from the cot, making sure his legs would support him while trying to keep the blanket as wrapped around his mostly naked form as possible. His feet landed on something soft and almost furry; a little surprise, Vash looked down to see he stood upon a pair of fuzzy slippers. His toes thanked him profusely when he slipped them on, since they had become quite chilled in the evening air. Shuffling across the hardwood floor to the counter he examined the two piles of clothes and found the set that would most likely fit his tall, skinny frame.
The clothes were used, but still in good condition. Vash wrapped the blanket around his waist before pulling the hooded sweatshirt on over his head; he wanted to keep as covered as possible. His hair, all mussed up, crackled quietly with static electricity and managed to stick up in an even odder hairdo. He stepped out of the slippers a moment onto the cool floor and quickly switched his current pair of shorts for the fresh-out-of-the- package pair in the pile. He then pulled on the pants beneath his make- shift cover. The slippers were put back on and the blanket neatly folded and placed on the cot.
She, pretty sure it's Edwina, had done her best, but due to the last minute notice that she would need men's clothing on hand, it was less than a perfect fit. The sweatshirt fit well enough and the jeans were a little big in the waist but perfectly suitable, except they fell to about mid-calf. Vash held up the other pair to see if they were any longer, but if anything, they were shorter. No matter, he had tough ankles that wouldn't complain about such a silly thing as a draft. His toes maybe, but not his ankles.
Vash shuffled out into the entryway and down the hall, following his nose to where he assumed the kitchen would be. A warm light rolled down the hallway, subtly illuminating what would otherwise be a dark corridor. A glint of light on glass caught Vash's eye and he turned to see four pictures of the same woman. He examined them a little closer and realized that no, they weren't exactly the same. The first three could have been identical triplets if it weren't for the varying amount of black in their fair hair and the shifts in fashion. Vash squinted at the last picture, pretty sure it was Edwina, the healer. She looked similar to the other three, but only vaguely. Family, maybe?
Hunger pulled Vash onward, not allowing him time to contemplate why something about those pictures gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach. The first three and their hair. All thoughts of this hurriedly dissipated when he turned the corner, (although not before looking in the mirror and realizing that he looked absolutely wretched), and wandered into the coziest, most pleasant kitchen he had seen in years.
It wasn't cutesy or overtly feminine, but the warm yellows on the walls, the shiny black and white tile floor, and the rich, wood cabinets and countertops came together in a cheery combination. Clean pots and pans hung from a rack above a butcher block island that had laying on it the remnants of whatever vegetables had gone into all the dishes hissing and bubbling away on the stove top. A heavy, old table, worn and nicked but still proud of its incredible craftsmanship, stood off to the left from the cooking area and had four places set. The dishes were of a sturdy stoneware, glazed in brilliant blues and greens with tall mugs to match. Silverware rested on real linen napkins and in the center of the table sat a huge bowl filled with colorful greens, tomatoes, carrots, and half a dozen other salad toppings on a bed of probably three different kinds of lettuce. Rolls laid nestled in a basket, tucked in under another napkin. Real butter laid in a dish next to them.
Vash wiped the drool off his chin and turned to the stove where the most delicious smells were coming from. In one pot enough spaghetti noodles were simmering to feed a small battalion. Fresh green beans cooked on another burner and squash popped and sizzled in a shallow pan on another. The fourth pot held the spaghetti sauce, so thick and tasty-looking that Vash couldn't resist dipping a finger in and seeing if it really was as good as it seemed.
"Aha! I knew you were a thief and a rogue!" someone shouted from behind him. He turned to see her, Edwina, glaring at him from across the table and the rest of the kitchen as she stood in the doorway to another back room. Vash froze like a deer in the headlights of a rapidly approaching vehicle. The woman laughed and relaxed her pose, walking into the room. He noticed she limped a little, something he didn't remember from earlier, but didn't say anything.
Edy's mood had improved greatly once she spilt all her thoughts, fears, and breakfast into the toilet; her wounds always healed faster out in the open air. Although all the worries and pain still existed within her heart and body, Edy had managed to push them away and go on with her life, the only way she knew how. Her healing sickness, as she called it, had ebbed away for the most part, except for a headache that lingered at the base of her skull and the difficulty walking. Pains shot up and down her legs but she refused to use her cane in front of strangers. Hell, she usually refused to use in front of her own self.
Vash responded in his overly-dramatic fashion by throwing his hands up in the air and whirling to face her, whimpering.
"Sorry ma'am, but I'm no thief, honest! Just a hungry body looking for a bite to eat, that's all," he exclaimed.
"Then you've come to the right kitchen," Edy said with a smile. "It's no wonder your body's starved after all the work it's had to do to fix you up. You're lucky I've honed my kitchen craft almost to a fine art. Sit, and I'll fix you up a plate."
Vash obeyed and took a place at the table. Edy hummed a song under her breath as she moved slowly but steadily around him, filling his glass, taking his plate, and piling it high with food. She turned from the stove and noticed his naked ankles underneath the table. Edy stifled a giggle.
"Sorry about the pants," she said as she laid the plate down in front of Vash, "but it's a little hard to judge a man's size when you only have to buy for your female self and a little boy. Oh, listen to me, Isaiah would kill me if he heard me say he was a little boy." She smiled and picked up a plate, heading back to the stove for her own supper. He made to get up and get it for her, his mouth full of spaghetti and his cheeks already rosy from globs of sauce. Edy made a motion that meant sit back down, and Vash slowly obliged. Before he could asked who Isaiah was, Edy spoke.
"How does your chest feel?" she asked, dishing herself up significantly less amounts of food. She hoped this meal would stay down when the second wave of healing sickness hit later on in the evening; Edy had learned early on, with any job even half the magnitude of this one, there was always a second wave. "I went ahead and took out every metal brace in your torso. I am sorry I'm not good enough to regenerate missing limbs," she added, her eyes straying to his left arm and back again to the task at hand.
"It feels great," he replied, quiet but pleased. The constant, dull pain that always acted as an undertone to his existence had lessened significantly and it really did feel great. This woman was something of a miracle worker. Vash still missed it all in his own way, but he had grown humble in his appreciation and embarrassment. "Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that, though. I can only pay you so much for your services to begin with and I hate to say that I don't have enough to properly repay you for your extra attention."
"I wasn't even going to ask for anything extra," she said as she sat down at the table, "it was nothing." She blended a truth with a lie, the lie punctuated by the pain in her legs creeping upward; the second wave had begun sooner than expected, but at least it eased its way in this time instead of hitting all at once. She continued on with truths. "I just have a soft spot for foundlings. Although, you really found me instead of the other way around."
So she really was as kind-hearted as himself, one of the motivations for her actions that Wolfwood had put forward, Vash thought.
Edy had sat down at the table across from the young man and looked him straight in his lovely, turquoise eyes. They are quite lovely, aren't they, she thought to herself. Out loud she posed the question that had only been answered by snores the night before, as well as others that had been rumbling about in her head.
"So, what do you and your friend go by? And if you don't mind me asking, what the hell happened to you guys? I'm sorry, that last question was rude of me, even though I do have a right to know if I put you two up for the night like I'm planning."
Vash swallowed and smiled awkwardly. She didn't sound very apologetic about asking the second question, but she had thrown in an offer of a place to stay for the night. Vash wanted to turn her down because she had done enough already, but he couldn't afford to pay her and then pay a hotel bill. He'd figure some way to pay her back for all her kindness. Reluctantly giving in, Vash spoke, smiling kindly.
"My name's Vash and my friend goes by Nicholas D. Wolfwood. We had a little trouble with bandits and wild animals on the road here," he replied, congenial but short.
"That much I figured from your wounds," she smiled back. "It's odd that you go by one name when your friend carries around three. But different strokes for different folks, I guess. So, there's nothing questionable about you two's characters, anything that might worry me to allow you to sleep under the same roof as my little brother Isaiah?"
Vash laughed at her almost abrasive and incredibly upfront manner. So Isaiah was her little brother, huh. What a protective older sister, mentioning only his safety, and not her own. Edy frowned at his laughter and he didn't care for her frown. He hastily explained his reason for the outburst.
"You've nothing to fear from me or Wolfwood; we look tough but I promise you, we're the good guys."
His last few words stuck in her craw for a moment, or would have if she actually had a craw. The good guys? Against what? Against whom? Even if they were "the good guys," there would be some "bad guy" that's out to get them, right? Would Isaiah be safe? Of course it would only be for one night. She probably wouldn't be able to sleep through the next bout of healing sickness so she would be on guard already. Still, why was she trying to come up with excuses to keep these men here?
Because they weren't well enough to go anywhere else tonight and Edy had no way to get them to a hotel, that's why. Edy just guided the body through the healing process at a speed much, much faster than normal, of course. As tiring as it was for her to "override" and speed up the body's systems, the patient's own self did the hard work, the actual healing. Vash and Nicholas D. Wolfwood couldn't probably do much more than make it to the kitchen, eat, and then make it to the beds she made up in the spare bedroom for just such an occasion. Her mother always insisted on following one's intuitions and Edy honestly felt no threat from these two men.
She realized Vash had been staring at her quizzically. She also realized she hadn't spoken for a few moments and her face held a negatively pensive expression. Edy made up her mind that they would stay for the evening so her face relaxed and she spoke.
"Oddly enough, I trust you. You'll stay the evening free of charge; consider it all part of the healing package. I'm the one who wore out your body to make it better so I'm the one who will make sure you're alright the first night after. No one will ever say Edy Gardener lacked in hospitality."
Vash still looked at her in the same manner, as if he was trying to figure something out, but he shook the idea away and continued his meal, chatting pleasantly with Edy, as she called herself, apparently preferring it over Edwina. Such a ridiculous notion, really, he thought to himself. How could he possibly clearly remember how much of her hair was black before as compared to now? Then she had her hair pulled back into a messy bun and now it was loose and trailing freely down her back and over her shoulders. Part of her hair couldn't have turned black in that time span; it was just silly. Humans didn't work like that.
* * * * *
It took Wolfwood far longer to stir from his deep slumber; it was a hard task for his body to recreate all the blood he lost as well as fight a case of rabies, so it needed a little bit longer to rest. He had no clue about the time, only that it was late evening. Staring at the dimly lit room, Wolfwood saw no Tongari but heard his distinct laughter coming from somewhere further back in the house. Another person laughed with him, full, loud, and female. Must be that Edwina woman.
Hunger grabbed his attention quickly and Wolfwood made no hesitation to get up and shuffle over to the pile of clothes left for him. A faded black sweater, jeans, and a brand new pair of boxers awaited him, as well as his own pair of fuzzy slippers; again the pants were short, but it was better than the alternative. Wolfwood didn't even take note of the fact that he had been asleep in his boxers around a strange woman; he was ravenous as well as antsy.
They had enough coinciding conscious time on the trip to February for Vash to explain to him what exactly was going on with Knives. After siding with Vash against his brother, the priest virtually cut himself off from the Gung Ho Guns. The chance still existed that he could get some information from those that remained about Knives' whereabouts, but it was very slim. At this point, though, it stood as their only option. Actually putting this option into action, however, was a whole other story.
He shuffled down the hall and into the kitchen, taking no time to notice the pictures, himself in the mirror, or how the kitchen looked so lovely. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene of his friend and the healer laughing and chattering like old friends. A bottle of vodka sat on the table amongst the leftovers of their meal, open and almost gone. Figures. He waited until they stopped laughing long enough to draw in shaky gasps of air and then stepped into the room.
Edy saw Vash's friend walk in and stood up so fast she almost knocked her chair over, she was so surprised; she hadn't even heard him coming and then he seemed to just pop out of the shadows. Her body urged her to sit back down, it's every nerve and fiber reeling from the second stint of healing sickness as it gained momentum, but Edy had imbibed enough liquor to successfully ignore it for the time being. Her cheeks were rosy but that was about the only sign that she had a bit to drink. Edy held her liquor well.
"So you're finally awake Mr. Wolfwood," she said with a somewhat sardonic smile. Edy had terrible time getting over first impressions and she still bore some bitterness against the man, especially since he had no time to prove her wrong yet. "Would you like something to eat? I've put it all away but I can heat some up for you. I'm sure you're starving."
Wolfwood nodded and tried to speak, but nothing came out but a hoarse gasp. He had failed to realize how stiff and sore his throat was still. He looked a little frantic and Edy took some pity on him. Her demeanor softened ever so slightly towards the priest.
"Don't worry, your voice will return in about a day or so; you put far too much strain on it after getting hurt and it was pretty torn up, inside and out. Your body had a lot of work for itself." Edy gave him a smile and met his eyes before turning back to reheating a meal for him. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Wolfwood. If your jugular had been cut or your esophagus damaged more than it already was you wouldn't have made it. It's a good thing you have such a good, strong, reliable friend as a traveling companion."
Wolfwood glared at Tongari with all the fury of God's wrath. What the hell did he tell her? From the sounds of it, the little spiky-haired runt had pumped his image up to a nice plump size; on a scale from demon to god, it probably ranked just below savior. Vash grinned and poured Wolfwood a drink. With angry zest he snatched it away and retreated to the doorway to the hall to console himself and his wounded pride.
"Oh, come on, Wolfwood, you know I'm not the real hero for saving your life," Vash said, only riling his friend up more. "You have Edy to thank for that."
Vash motioned to Edy who had her back turned, but because she had pulled her hair back again, exposing her neck, they could tell she had turned an even more brilliant color of red, judging from the blush that crept up towards her hair line. Wolfwood would have said his thanks then if he could, his anger lessening to the point that he wasn't going to take it out on an innocent bystander. Since he couldn't, he just stood there and sipped his drink.
As it turned out, the doorway probably was not the best place for Wolfwood to set up camp. The three of them heard the jingle of the bells as the front door opened and closed. A resounding woof echoed through the halls as a MIA Roscoe reappeared and loudly bounded down from the second floor to greet the visitor. Feet and paws thundered down the hall; a boy emerged first, pushing past Wolfwood, causing the man to fumble with his drink in an effort not to lose it to the rug beneath his feet. Only a second later, if even that, the gigantic dog shot straight through Wolfwood, or would have if he hadn't been a solid being.
Wolfwood hit the floor, tangled in dog and surrounded by laughter. He struggled to remove himself from the mess of dog legs, tail, and tongue when the boy whistled, calling the monster off. Wolfwood caught his breath, realized the front of his shirt and pants were very wet and vodka-scented. All this was getting to be too much. His bad humor had gone from cranky to just plain pissed off, and he was just begging for an outlet.
He looked up to find Edy had moved across the room and knelt down in front of him, checking him out to make sure he was okay. She did this without reserve or request for permission to do so, seeing it as part of her job. Her manner caused Wolfwood to pause, not knowing exactly what to do. Seeing he was fit to stand again, Edy stood up herself and held out her hand, helping him to his feet. The attentive and kind manner dissipated as she turned her attention to the boy who sat in the middle of the floor, covered in a hundred pounds of very, very, very happy dog. Edy bent down, scratching Roscoe behind the ears and addressed Isaiah as if their "guests" weren't even in the room.
"Isaiah, did everything go alright?" she asked, worry written all over her face. Vash and Wolfwood looked at each other, mildly surprised by this woman's sudden shift in temperament and confused considering they had no idea what she and the boy named Isaiah were talking about. Must be other business, Wolfwood thought with a shrug.
"Well enough, yeah. You'd better get out there tomorrow, though. He still needs help," Isaiah said, ignoring the dog for a moment, his own worried expression mirroring his sister's. "You'll be okay, won't you? I mean, after today and everything."
Vash and Wolfwood melted into the background, realizing they were treading on very private ground at that moment. They stood in the doorway to the other back room, turning their backs ever so slightly and tried not to listen in.
"Don't you worry about me, honey, I'm perfectly fine," Edy murmured, lying through her teeth. She couldn't tell if either the alcohol had begun to ebb out of her system or if the healing sickness had just reached its boiling point. It rolled over her in waves, making her legs quiver in fear of giving way beneath her. The pain in her neck exploded across the back of her skull at that very opportune time and she couldn't hold back a wince. It was definitely time to call it a night.
"Well, I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow," she said, turning to Vash and Wolfwood with a painted-on smile, "so let me show you where you'll be staying the night."
* * * * *
Myskin: Manga fans, you know exactly what I'm walking about with Vash in a hoodie. It only happened once, but it was so precious I knew it had to happen again. The fuzzy slippers too. ^_^