Disclaimer: I don't own anything Trigun, so don't sue me please, thank you!
Tying Up Loose Ends
Chapter Fifteen
The Unveiling
The morning had reached into Isaiah's room and rudely shoved open his eyelids, yelling at him to get up. It could only have been an hour after dawn at the most, but he was restless. Edy had spent a long time in Knives room with the brothers, so long that even Isaiah couldn't stay awake long enough to hear the familiar sounds of his sister getting ready for bed. Yawning and stretching, Isaiah popped his back before getting out of bed, relishing in the sound and the sensation that traveled up his spine.
Padding down the hall, still in his pajamas, Isaiah pushed open the bathroom door, expecting to find nothing out of the ordinary. Edy sitting among the remains of her thick, long hair certainly rated as extraordinary, and complete consciousness slapped Isaiah out of his fuzzy state. He stood there for a moment, staring. Edy stared back, then smiled her normal smile, happy smile.
"Morning, sweetie," she said, trying to be cheerful while beginning to gather the hair up from the floor. Dark circles ringed her eyes, exhibiting her lack of sleep. She wore the same clothes as she had the day before. Isaiah had no idea how long she had been here like this, but it scared him. It scared him a lot.
"Edy…" he started, and then fell to his knees, throwing his skinny arms around her neck, burying his face beneath her jaw. His cheek used to meet hair when he hugged her before, when she wore her hair down. Nothing, only smooth skin that smelled slightly of sweat and felt a little greasy against his own.
"What'd you do? Edy, what's wrong?" he cried out, his voice muffled against her neck.
Edy had automatically put her arms around his thin frame, holding him to her. She didn't know why Isaiah was so upset, but after a moment of thought, she realized it had to have looked pretty frightening. Like she had gone crazy. Edy hadn't lost it, cutting her hair off just seemed like the thing to do at the time. All she needed to do was to get rid of all that oppressive hair. It didn't bother her anymore that so much of it was black, and that darkness continued to stare her down.
She'd come to grips with that fact. Everything about it felt different now, lighter. No longer a burden. Her mother's words to her father, the last thing she ever heard the woman say, they made sense now, or least had they had begun to. Resentment towards her mother's act of abandonment, how she had always seen it before, it had started to melt away, slowly but surely. Edy had done a lot of thinking that night.
"Oh Isaiah, baby, it's alright, it's okay. I just needed to make a change and get my thoughts in order, that's all," she whispered, stroking his head, trying to soothe him. He had never seemed like such a frightened little boy in her eyes than he did at that moment. When they were facing Knives she knew he had been terrified, but he hadn't lost his relatively brave face. Here he was, crying in her arms, so confused and unsure of what was going on.
"Sweetie, everything's all different now, and I'm sorry. I should have asked you if it would be alright before bringing this life-altering burden into the house. I didn't think, I just didn't think. Don't hate me sweetie, please don't hate me."
"I don't hate you," he sniffled, sitting up and away. He kept his eyes down, refusing to look at her. "I'm just so mad! You scared me! I thought, I thought… I don't know what I thought! I just knew it wasn't right. You've been scarin' me a lot lately and I just don't know how much more I can take!"
Edy shifted her position so she could pull a handkerchief out of her back pocket. Wiping the tears and snot from Isaiah's face with one hand, Edy gently cradled his chin in the other palm, making him look her in the eyes.
"Never in a million years do I want to do anything to upset you. And I don't want you to ever resent me, either."
Isaiah looked a little confused. He really didn't know what she was talking about now, but he felt she had reasons, an explanation, so he listened without a word.
"I did a lot of thinking last night, about how I was raised, what Ma… Mother and Father told me, and I know they didn't handle any of it very well. But I do know they loved me and they tried to do their best for me, and that's all I can hope to do for you. We've got a lot to talk about, sweetie, and I've got a lot of explaining to do," she said, smiling again, a lighter, happier grin. "That's all icky serious stuff though and we've had enough of that for now, right? Let's get some breakfast; I'm going to clean this mess up really quick and then we'll go fix something large, fattening, and terribly, terribly delicious."
* * * * *
"So, what'd you three talk about last night, as if it's any of my business," Wolfwood asked his sleepy friend as they shared the sink in the guest bathroom on the first floor. Vash stared blearily at the priest in the mirror, taking a few moments to process the question.
"Lot of things," he mumbled in reply. "Plant things… and stuff."
"Uh huh. Sounds dreadfully fascinating. I know I can talk about 'stuff' and 'things' for hours on end; I also always make sure to bang around the room I'm sharing with a friend really loudly when I'm finally finished talking at some ungodly time in the morning."
Vash peered through half-open lids, unable to register Wolfwood's sarcasm.
"Wha?"
"Forget it, Tongari. Next time just turn it into a slumber party and leave me in peace."
"K'."
Wolfwood finished washing his face and headed out, leaving the stupefied blonde to figure out on his own that toothpaste leaves some killer razor burn when used as a shaving cream. Following his particularly large nose, he wandered into the kitchen.
There he found Isaiah laughing rather maniacally while chucking what appeared to be dough balls at a newcomer who had to take cover under the kitchen table. Chairs sat (and in some cases sprawled) around the room and flour adorned most surfaces. The entire kitchen had been turned into a giant mixing bowl with what remained of its contents still clinging to its sides.
Several things popped and sizzled on the stove top and the delicious aroma of something sweet and baked emanated from the oven. It seemed that everything had gone unheeded, but Isaiah would turn from his quarry occasionally to flip or turn something, adding things here and removing other things there. Whenever he did so, the boy usually received a wad of flour and dough to the back or the head, the dues he had to pay for turning his back on the fight.
Wolfwood just watched, amazed by the brazen waste of food. He could almost hear Edy's temper rocketing through the roof when she found what Isaiah and his friend had done. Catching a glimpse of short hair or a slender arm from time to time, the only thing Wolfwood could tell about Isaiah's pal was that he had waded into some deep thomas crap through his role in this mini-epic battle. An evil grin spread across his face as he imagined the ensuing rampage when the matron of the household returned.
"That's…" Isaiah gasped between peals of laughter, "that's enough. I'm never going to get anything done with you actin' like a two year old! Shit Edy, you're such a brat this morning! An' look," he said, motioning to Wolfwood with a wave that sent a cloud of powder flying, "you woke up Mr. Wolfwood."
Wolfwood tried to discreetly pick his jaw up off the floor as Edy crawled out from under the table, laughing and covered in flour from bottom to newly-shorn top. When the hell did that happen? Edy noticed his stares and blushed, giggling self-consciously.
"You like the new 'do, Nicholas? I'm surprised you noticed; you're more perceptive than most males."
"Come on Edy, now that was just sexist," Isaiah jokingly protested, turning back to the task of making breakfast.
That must have been some talk, Tongari, Wolfwood thought to himself, shaking his head. Out loud he offered to help with breakfast.
"Don't worry about it, Isaiah's got the cooking and I really need to clean this mess up myself. I'm sure you understand how things can get when words no longer carry the full impact of your argument," she laughed again, motioning to all the disorder around her, as if that explained everything away.
She's awfully giggly today, Wolfwood thought, not at all the same woman as the day before. The Edy yesterday had the ability to bring Knives violently to her heel without remorse and now she's traipsing about like a child and picking food fights with her little brother. Huh, weird girl, seems a bit bipolar. Kinda like Vash .
"Must be why there's an attraction between them," the priest muttered, barely loud enough to be considered "out loud."
"Attraction between whom," a much more chipper voice asked from behind him, causing Wolfwood to jump slightly before regaining his haughty composure. Vash seemed to have completely changed in the short time he spent in the bathroom. A couple tiny squares of tissue clung to the gunman's chin, a testament against toothpaste as a shaving tool, but other than that no sign of Zombie-Vash remained. Wolfwood shrugged off the questioned and pushed past the blonde, heading for the front door.
"I need a smoke," he called over his shoulder. "Jesus Christ on a bike, there's no rest for the weary in this house. Call me when breakfast's ready."
Puzzled, Vash stepped into the kitchen to find a particularly slippery patch of flour beneath his feet. It didn't stay under foot long as his lanky, long legs flew into the air above his waist causing the equal and opposite reaction of his backside meeting the floor with a nasty thud. Air whooshed from his lungs, keeping Vash from yelping. He laid there dazed for a moment, eyes clamped shut. When at last he deemed them ready to reopen they met with a new face hovering above him, concern etched in all its features.
"Shit, Vash, are you alright," the woman asked, worry in her voice. The world slid into focus again and slightly confused, Vash realized it wasn't a different face that stared down at him but a different hair cut. Dazed, Vash lifted his hand to run his fingers through the short, almost curly locks.
"Edy, where'd all your hair go?"
Blushing brilliantly, more so than before, Edy pulled away and slid her hand into the one Vash had left outstretched. She hauled him up to his feet, dusting herself off in an awkward attempt to no longer meet his eyes or his question. In a matter of seconds self-control was recovered and Edy flashed a smile.
"I thought it was time for something new; my hair hadn't been cut since I was eight, and it was just too much trouble at that length."
That wasn't the real reason and Edy knew that Vash knew it. Still, he didn't pry, mainly because he assumed it had something to do with the discussion the night before. Isaiah broke the tension with a barrage of questions, asking Vash what he wanted to eat and how much of everything. The moment past, comfort slid back into its proper place once more and the Gardener kitchen returned to its base state of contentment. Only from time to time would Isaiah catch Vash giving sad little glances in the direction of Edy's bob, but he had no plans of approaching the blonde man about them.
* * * * *
A huge belch rented through the peaceful, morning air. With a smack Vash sent Wolfwood tumbling backwards, out of his chair and across the floor.
"What the hell was that for, Tongari," he shouted, pulling himself up and rubbing indignantly at his bruised ego.
"That's no way to behave in polite company," the other man replied in mock solemnity. He received a wadded napkin in the face for his actions and bore the abuse like a martyr his torture. The noogie crossed the line, though. Within an instant the two men had reverted into small, bickering children; this seemed to be the call of the morning.
Laughing heartily, Edy rose, gathering the breakfast dishes. Pulling out a tray from a cabinet, she set to work putting together Knives' meal. They had sat there for a couple of hours, chatting and eating, completely forgetting about the belligerent invalid upstairs. His angry cries declaring neglect and abuse quickly reminded them of his existence. Wolfwood's response had been the full-bodied burp that elicited physical violence from the normally passive Vash.
Vash and Edy delivered the meal together, Vash not wanting her to be alone with his brother. He worried about her, even though she brushed off any questions about her hair. It was too sudden, too much to be a simple "need for change." Vash had no plans to let Knives' claws sink any further into her tender soul. So the meal came and went, uneventful and ever-monitored.
"It's time to change your bandages," Vash insisted after they left Knives to enjoy some quiet time with Dante; he had insisted that was the volume he wanted, muttering something about not getting to finish it before they busted in and ruined his life.
Edy nodded in response. She grabbed the medicinal salve and fresh wrappings from the bathroom and head into her room, followed closely by Vash.
* * * * *
Isaiah decided it was time to get some air; the adults had gone all weird on him. Besides, the motorbike probably could use a tune up. Grabbing his tools from the closet beneath the stairs, he headed for the door, only to find his path blocked by two young women who had chosen that moment to walk in.
"Hello? Any one home," called out the taller of the two.
"Of course they are, you ninny! There's someone standing right there," the other rebuked.
"Well, I didn't see him at first, okay?"
"Next time look before you speak."
"Man, Meryl, you're awfully cranky today."
"Of course I'm cranky Milly. It's been three days since I last bathed! Or more! I can't keep track of time anymore, it's all flown out the window!"
"You do smell kind of funny."
"Um, excuse me, misses?" This was Isaiah; he saw a moment when the little one had lost her voice, probably due to fury, and took it as his chance to interject. "Are you in need of medical assistance?"
Isaiah wanted to smack himself for the ridiculous-sounding words that came out of his mouth, but he had come up with nothing better. The two women turned their attention at last to the boy, as if they finally realized he could hear and see them.
"Nope," said the bigger one (he thought the other called her Milly) with a blinding smile, "we're just looking for two of our friends. Some nice people said that two gentlemen matching their description had been last seen here. Do you know them?"
"Tell him what they look like," the little one (this one he was sure had been called Meryl) muttered to her partner in exasperation.
"Oh, right! Mr. Nicholas D. Wolfwood's kind of tall, my height really, black hair, smokes a whole bunch, and carries around a huge cross. Mr. Vash the Stampede, well, he looks exactly like his reward posters!"
Meryl smacked herself on the head in frustration. From the looks on the boy's face they had spooked him pretty good; either he was worried about the fact that they knew the Humanoid Typhoon or he was acquainted with the two gentlemen but didn't know that one of them was the legendary gunman. They had a long discussion before they even approached the house: don't mention Vash's real identity. Of course, Milly forgot it in the space of time that included the walk from the jeep to the porch, up to the door, and the conversation in front of and with the boy. Five minutes total where just too much for the woman sometimes.
In the kitchen, Wolfwood's ear's picked up the melodious sounds of a certain special someone's voice. Wiping his hands on his apron and leaving the dishes for later, he shuffled out in his now-usual slippers, short jeans, and black sweater, plus the added bonus of a red apron that had "Kick the Cook" printed on it in white. Peeking his head around the corner, a smile exploded across his face when he saw who graced the Gardener's entryway.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my most and second most favorite Insurance Girls! How the hell did you manage to find us all the way out here?"
Milly squealed in excitement and ran down the hall to throw her arms around her priest's neck. The pair stumbled back into the kitchen, thankfully obscuring the noisy reunion scene from the view of both Isaiah and Meryl. Giggles and chortles, mixed with fast blurbs of speech competing to be heard, travelled down the hall.
"So, Vash is 'The Stampede,' huh," Isaiah said with an awkward little cough. Meryl nodded, not exactly sure what else to say. "That makes a lot of sense now. Well, if he's a friend of yours then you're a friend of ours. Isaiah Gardener."
Meryl took the hand he held out to her and they shook, neither one sure what was currently occurring before them.
"Vash's upstairs with his brother and my sister Edy right now. He'll be…."
Isaiah couldn't even get out the rest of his sentence before the petite woman raced up the stairs in a blind panic. God, she was a squirrelly one.
Knives is here?! her mind roared, the thought exploding across Meryl's synapses. What in all of creation was going on here?