*Sorry this is so late! My computer got a virus (lucky I had all my documents backed up), and I had to wait for it to get repaired...so see, I do have a good excuse...and my virus protection sucks, by the way... It won't be with me long, count on it.*
Authors' quick note: This is chapter 4! I've reached the half-way point! *throws confetti at readers*. There are supposed to be eight chapters in Hold On, before I start the second part (at least that's how I've planned it), just in case you wondered. Oh, and this chapter is the longest one, by the way. After this they go back to being normal length. I promise no more loooong chapters (I hope it isn't too long, let me know. I just didn't know what to delete).
Thank You's: Thank you to all of my great readers who came back for the last chapter, and the newest ones as well! Thanks to Magnet-Rose, Jami, and Rosebud, Neptune Butterfly and my newest reviewer, dark-pyro-angel. I think I've given *almost* everyone (I'm not done reading some people's chapters yet) at least one review by now, and I'm going to continue reviewing. There were a couple of people that didn't sign their reviews and I couldn't find you when I did an author's search, so if you would like a review from me, please let me know who to look for (email me or something), thanks! (And thank you to all those readers that I know are reading this and won't be writing a review for me either! *cries*)
By the way…Jami gets the cookie! (And ten points ^-^) She guessed the band correctly, it's Good Charlotte! The song "Hold On" is from their newer (I think newest, not sure…) album, The Young and the Hopeless (another thing I cannot claim ownership to, so no suing). Don't know where the Trigun connection came from though…
Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, if you haven't figured this out yet, you're dumber then I thought, and I have a bridge to sell you.
Chapter IV: Back in the Saddle
"Man, what am I going to do…."
Vash continued to stare out the bedroom window and into the street, watching tendrils of fog twist between buildings and over the ocean of endless sand. It was around five in the morning, and the house around him was utterly silent. For a little while, at least, he knew that he would have some solitude to think, a thing that he desperately needed to do.
Another two days had passed, and still Vash had no answers. Every idea he ran through always ended in someone being hurt…or worse, conditions that he just wouldn't allow. Yet there had to be a solution, he was sure of it. After over a hundred years of life, he had learned that there was a solution to practically everything if you just figured it out fast enough.
Squinting out into the fog, as if the answers were written somewhere just beyond his sight, Vash put an elbow on one of his knees. Maybe he just wasn't thinking right. After all, he was still healing, both physically and emotionally, from his fight with Knives. It seemed only rational to admit to himself that he wasn't completely focused on the present problem, right?
But he also knew when he was stuck in a rut, and this time it was far more trouble then he had ever imagined it could possibly be.
Millie and Meryl couldn't help either. He had talked to them, and they were willing to make suggestions, but all of those ended in someone's death, as far as he could see it. Meryl had even suggested giving Knives over to Caverral, an option that he was definitely against in more ways then one.
Unfortunately, Vash also knew that the tactics he had tried in the past with other gunman wouldn't work. This man knew what Knives was capable of…and yet he was still hunting for him, meaning that he wasn't afraid of facing an immortal able to kill him with a mere glance, a fact that terrified Vash.
Down the hall, he could hear footsteps as the girls got up and moved into the kitchen. Meryl seemed to be awake, but Millie yawned and complained that her stomach hurt. She had been complaining about that a lot lately, and he was more then a little concerned that she was coming down with something.
The girls' soft conversation continued, accompanied by the scrape of a fork against a pan and the clunk of stonewear plates sliding over the kitchen table. Vash knew that Meryl was starting breakfast, an act that was gradually becoming familiar to him as the month progressed. And as always, Millie was setting the table and helping her out. Millie didn't help too much with the actual cooking portion of the morning, however. She wasn't a morning person and Meryl had politely informed her that she shouldn't try lighting her hair on fire anymore then was necessary by accidentally falling asleep over one of the hot pans.
After breakfast was finished, both girls had their own individual routines to follow. Millie would go off to do survey work with her construction crew, and Meryl would hang around the house for a while until around three in the afternoon, when she had to go to one of the local saloons and "waitress", as she so adamantly stated. Just for kicks Vash had tried to call her an actual "barmaid" once. Yes, he had gotten a lot of kicks out of that one…some of the bruises still hadn't dissapeared.
But, despite everyone's somewhat-joking manner, he got the feeling that certain things weren't as peaceful as he thought they were. Meryl's behavior itself had been odd enough already. Instead of sticking around in the mornings, or asking him if he would like to go shopping, the girl had been working longer shifts and trying her best to just avoid him.
Now, he knew that they weren't exactly living the high life, and half the time they were broke. But that was still no reason for her to work from suns up to suns down. Lately, ever since he had become more active around the house, she had been taking even more hours in the mornings. And whereas Millie was more then willing to joke around with him, Meryl always complained that she had something better to do…like take a shower.
Humans just puzzled him, no matter how hard he tried to understand and be like them. Of course, human men he could relate to, being male seemed to be one of those universal constants. But human females…they were a whole other jungle!
Across the room, Knives suddenly turned over in bed, sighing. He hadn't moved all morning, and Vash had seriously dreaded the prospect of going over and finding that his brother had died. That was another part of the reason why he hadn't moved from his vigil by the window…the part that he had tried not to think about.
Now that he was sure Knives was still with him, and frustrated that he wasn't going to get any answers this morning, Vash rose up out of his chair and moved to the side of his brother's bed. Knives heard his muffled footsteps, and the other Plant opened pain-laced eyes, eyes which took in his twin's face as his lips thinned and he started to whisper.
"Vash," he rasped, looking surprisingly worried, "my…my left leg hurts…it burns…"
Knives' left leg was still badly infected, one of the reasons why his fever hadn't completely abated, and Vash wondered if he was going to be able to keep the limb at this point. The lady doctor had come back to check on them a day ago, and at that point she had suggested amputation to keep him alive. But she, of course, didn't know that Knives' body had healing abilities far better then those of a human, a factor that gave him a high chance of surviving such an infection. Because of this, Vash had refused, Knives being unconscious at the time.
But even with the ability to heal rapidly, Vash still cursed himself for Knives' pain. It was his poor shot that had damaged the nerves in that leg, to such an extent that, even if they did heal, his twin would probably have to live with a limp. A prospect that he knew Knives wouldn't exactly cherish.
Vash realized that his brother wasn't just complaining about the pain either. Knives, to Vash's knowledge, never complained. But he did have a low tolerance for pain. He hated it with a passion, and it really amazed Vash that, time and again, he still inflicted so much of it on others.
When they had been living on the SEEDS ship, until Steve had gotten ahold of them, pain had primarily been an unknown force, something both boys had read about but never directly experienced. In fact, Vash could remember the first time that either of them had been hurt, and that had, oddly enough, been Knives.
They had been in the Kitchen area that led off into the lounge, helping Rem make something that she called vegetable soup. At the moment, their self-proclaimed mother was out of sight, putting a pot of water on the ship's stove unit, while Vash joked with Knives about cutting carrots into odd shapes.
The actual accident had happened so fast that neither of them had realized it at first. Vash had giggled, holding his cutting blade over the tip of a carrot, and Knives had leaned in to watch, placing his hands up on the counter.
Pushing the blade down, Vash had felt it slide in his grip and tried to compensate, but couldn't move fast enough. The tip caught Knives in the palm as he'd tried to pull away from Vash, realizing what was about to happen. Instead, he didn't move quite fast enough, and winced at the numbing feeling of icy cold that flooded his veins. Through their empathic link, stronger at that time then it was now, Vash had felt the shivery sensation as well, and he'd shuddered, looking up at the redness dripping down his twin's arm.
The other boy took a second to look down at his bloody palm, trembling, and then his eyes had widened, dark pupils filling his azure irises. After that he had looked back up at Vash, not knowing what to say or do.
Rem had come in at that moment, and Vash was glad that she didn't scream or anything. She did get pretty worried, and comforted the little boy until he pushed her away. And despite all the worry, the only things Knives actually needed was antiseptic and a bandage. Rem had also called Mary, who doubled as the ship's doctor, and the woman had given the boy a couple stitches. These Knives had hidden from everybody, even his brother, and the twins hadn't talked for a while.
Vash often wondered if that was where it had truly started afterall, even before Knives had consciously expressed his views, the divide had started to open with something as simple as pain.
Pushing the memory away, he realized that his brother was no longer watching him anymore. The other man's eyes were closed, his breathing even and soft, indicating that he was no longer conscious.
Something else drew Vash's attention away from the memory, and he looked over at the door. Steam trickled down the hallway, and he sniffed at it, hesitant to assess the kitchen's morning damage.
Meryl was cooking eggs today…and what smelled like thomas sausage…again. Thomas wasn't all that bad, if you put lots of ketchup on it and pretended it was something like beef. Still, the big mutant chickens pretty much tasted the way that they looked. Blatantly nasty.
Moving away from his brother, Vash glanced out the window again, then lifted the bottom glass panel and peered out into the street, coughing. The fog still hadn't lifted, and the light of the twin suns was a blurry haze on the horizon, both shafts of light watching him like the glowing eyes of something feral and angry.
He glanced back over his shoulder once, knowing that Meryl would come looking for him soon, and feeling just a little bit closed in by the monotony his life was becoming. All these years, and all these miles, and now finally he was stuck in one place.
And for the oddest reason, it was getting on his nerves.
Not that he hated it here, but it just didn't feel right. Funny how something as simple as never having a real home could change someone's desires when they actually got the chance to try one.
Besides, he needed a walk anyway. Thinking was easier when he let his feet do something, and now was as good a time as any to get away. Besides, the girls would be just fine without him and Knives wasn't going anywhere new.
Feeling a small sense of relief for the first time in a while, the Stampede swung himself out the window, tripped over the sill, and trotted off into the fog.
He didn't look back once.
* * *
As for what he might have planned for the actual beginning, middle, or end of his walk, Vash still hadn't made up his mind.
At first he thought that maybe he should go get a drink. It had been a while since the last one…perhaps a little too long, and his nerves needed something to calm them so that he could concentrate. Though, after the first glass he didn't tend to concentrate on much of anything but the second glass, and he seriously doubted that he would even be able to find his way home after that, let alone a solution to his problem.
Besides, Meryl seemed genuinely worried about the man that was going to come back for Knives. When she had talked to him a couple days ago, her eyes had held an honest fear, not hedged with doubt or uncertainty. The woman had been genuinely scared, a raw emotion that she so rarely showed him that he had come to trust it. Alcohol wasn't about to solve anything at this point…and besides, the day had just started. Though, come to think of it, he had started out a great many days pretty smashed…nah, forget it.
So now was not the time to get drunk…then perhaps it was time for….yes, maybe it was-
* * *
"Thanks miss, these look great!"
Vash curled both of his arms protectively around the small paper sack, grinning. The older woman minding the fried food stand at her doorstep gave him a small smile and a random nod, as she went back to stirring some French fries and doling out breakfast to a morning crowd.
Still grinning, Vash headed off down the street, pulling a honey-glazed doughnut out of the bag in his arms. He stuffed it whole into his mouth and sighed, finally feeling normal again. His brother may have been deathly ill, the insurance girls may have continued their harping, but at least there were still doughnuts to look forward to!
In spite of everything, feeling that all was still right with the world, he gulped down another doughnut and sauntered across the street, humming randomly. A little black cat dashed out from under the nearest porch and meowed at him pleadingly until he looked down at her.
"Um…do kitties like doughnuts? I don't know…I'm still a little upset at you for scratching me."
He frowned at her and the cat yawned, stretching as if to say 'I certainly don't remember it'.
"Meowwww!" She pleaded again, then blinked.
Kuroneko's tail tip started to move faster, and her whiskers twitched before she tilted her head around and ran off, suddenly oblivious to the conversation. Vash took a step toward her, meaning to call her back, and then froze in place.
A sudden chill along his back caused his head to jerk up in surprise. He looked down at his boots, and found himself in the shade of a cross. For a second, confused, he stared at it, then craned his neck back and looked up. To his left stood the town steeple, whitewashed walls flaking in the dry air. At the highest point on its roof, the lone cross, silhouetted by the rising haze of the twin suns, touched him with its shadow through the fog.
For a long moment, he simply didn't move. Then, looking put upon, he pulled another doughnut out of the bag and bit into it as he stared up at the tower, thoughts drifting.
Vash had never been much of a religious man, though he had thought about trying at one point, simply to see what it was all about. But being run out of town every other day didn't really help one explore a group religion very well, so he had given it up for the time being.
However, he did believe that his ability to get out of almost every situation in nearly one piece was a little more then luck. For the most part though, he blamed that one on his amazing, and somewhat annoying, ability to think his way out of almost everything and pure dumb luck.
As for whether or not there was some higher power out there governing everything that he did? Well, if there was, quite a while ago he would have loved to have a pretty heated discussion with that individual. It was about time that something went right.
He thought briefly about actually going into the chapel and trying to ask that higher power to help him sort all of this out. But he felt kinda funny about trying that, in part because he'd never actually done it before.
Sure, Vash prayed, every gunman did at some point. But mostly his prayers were to Rem's spirit, in the hopes that she would help him make the choice she would have made, a good choice that she would have been proud of. Now, however, he knew that she was depending on him to make his own choices. As a result he felt lost, not physically lost, but more or less like he was aimless inside, something he couldn't put a finger on.
But he still couldn't go inside now, even if part of him had wanted to. Ever since Nick had spent his last breath before an altar, Vash felt pain just looking at a cross alone. A church was meant to be a place of peace for everyone who entered, and now that he thought about it, he didn't think that he would ever truly feel at peace anywhere.
Besides, he mused, glancing down at himself, I'm not even dressed right.
He looked down at his long-sleeved, white cotton shirt and old jeans, sighed, and finished his doughnut.
"Meow?"
Kuroneko peered around the cross on the roof like a timid little ghost, a fishtail sticking out of her muzzle. Vash watched as she chomped on it, then flicked her tail tip at him and looked once more at the paper bag with interest. He smiled back up at her.
"So that's where you went, huh? Pretty high for such a little kitty, don't you think? How about you come down and I'll give you a doughnut."
Kuroneko disappeared from sight, then returned a moment later at ground level, eyes still wide and staring.
"Meow?" She mentioned expectantly.
Vash looked into the bag, then pulled out another doughnut.
"Well, I've only got one left…but you can have it."
He tossed it onto the sand and she gobbled it up, licking crumbs off her whiskers and hunting for missed pieces by her paws. When she was satisfied there was nothing left, she turned her attention back to him.
"Meeeowwww?"
"Sorry, that's it!" He put the bag down and started to walk away from her.
The black cat watched his retreating back for a moment, then hopped into the empty paper bag. The bag tipped over, but the purring Kuroneko inside didn't notice, she was too busy licking sugar off the paper.
* * *
Vash stood at the edge of town, unable to see even a few feet beyond the fog, and not really caring at the moment either, because he had just figured out how to save his brother once again.
Satisfied that the idea was probably the only one that would work, he looked up at the gauze-wrapped glare of the suns to get an idea of east, then headed off. Sand whispered over his boots, and the fog twisted about his ankles and arms, wraithlike, as he walked carefully over the open desert, trying not to think about how alone he really was.
Finally, after traveling for what he judged to be about an hour, Vash stopped at the edge of a depression in the earth. The sand had rounded off the edges already, but the crater still looked burnt in some places, and the huge roots of demolished trees poked up forlornly through the mist. He gave it all a passing glance, then slipped down into the pit and started to search.
He found the red coat first, the cotton fabric damp with dew and shook it out. Sand grains scattered, rustling and skittering away as he draped the fabric over one arm and started hunting once more.
The twin revolvers came next. His own was still in plain sight, glistening faintly and cool to the touch. He picked it up and drew back the hammer, wincing at the crunch of sand particles within, then he slid the hammer back and opened the barrel, looking disgusted. Sand had gotten into the chambers as well, and now it was going to need a thorough cleaning before it ever fired another shot.
The ebony Colt was a little harder to find. It had been thrown clear of their fight when Vash had shot Knives in the arm, and by now the revolver was neatly covered by the desert. Fortunately, being hidden did not mean that Vash had lost it. Over time he had learned that being near the guns made the tips of his fingers tingle as if they had fallen asleep, a sensation that went away when he brought the Colt into his hand. Such a strange detail didn't interfere with his aim, but it did prevent him from losing his own gun, one aspect of his life that he needed help with anyway, as he was always misplacing it.
The return of the black Colt into his hand was quick, and he pocketed both of them in the coat, glancing around through the mist and wondering what was holding him back from leaving at this point.
Something was missing…yes, something was definitely not right. He furrowed his brow, eyeing the desert beneath his feet with confusion and scuffing his boots in the sand. One of his boot toes hit something hard, and after he was done cursing in several different languages, he knelt down to see it.
Beneath his feet, a tiny patch of steel glittered up at him. A ghost of a smile crossed Vash's eyes as he recognized what he had just bumped into. Moving the coat farther up his arm so that it wouldn't fall off, he knelt down by the wayward Cross Punisher, brushing sand and dew off the arms, exposing the gleaming surface to the suns once more. The weapon still looked to be in very good shape. All of it's various hatches were closed, and no sand had gotten inside. He admired it for a moment, hands clenching the metal arms as he whispered to it.
"Thanks for saving me there, old friend."
Shaking more sand off, Vash rose back to his feet, hoisting the weapon up from the ground so that it stood on its longest end. He felt strange though, taking it with him when it had belonged to Nicholas for who knows how long. Millie had told him that he should have it, and use it. But that just didn't seem right. A man's gun was a very personal piece of who he was, and Vash didn't know if he was ready or not to accept a part of Wolfwood that he had rejected for so long in himself.
An oddly, and pleasantly, warm wind brushed his left side, and Vash turned, suddenly alert.
In front of him, through the fog, shoes crunched against sand. It was such a subtle sound, and muffled in the damp air, that very few would have heard it. But Vash did, and he looked up, eyes half-veiled and his entire body taunt .
A hand swept out at the fog, and the familiar smell of tobacco smoke tickled his nose, bringing back memories that both confused and excited him. Vash sneezed, and then his jaw dropped as he looked up at the person currently standing before him.
"Hey Tongari. Have you gotten so high and mighty you can't thank a guy personally or what?"
* * *
"Well, Vash is gone again….not like that's anything new…"
Meryl came back down the hall out of his room, shaking her head, and Millie looked up from her plate, wondering what the older woman was so worried about anyway.
"Oh, he probably just went for a walk ma'am. He's got a lot on his mind after all," she turned over her toast and put some strawberry jam on it, "you know he wouldn't just leave us. Besides, his brother's still here. Don't worry so much Meryl, he's not going to forget about you."
The other woman tried to hide her blush as she moved to the stove and took a sausage out of the pan, pushing it onto her plate.
"I'm not concerned about that Millie, I just didn't want him running off and causing another disaster again. After all, even though we are staying here for a while until things settle down, he's still our responsibility. That certainly hasn't changed."
"That reminds me ma'am…where are we going after Mr. Vash's brother gets better? You didn't mention anything to me after you talked to him…and I was a little curious. Besides, my big big brother asked in his letter…and I didn't know what to tell him."
Meryl sat down on the other side of the table, looking down at her plate for a moment.
"Um…I really don't know, I guess. I hadn't really thought about it. My parents are coming to visit afterall…and I just kinda-"
"Oh, that'll turn out okay," Millie assured her, smiling. "They do love you Meryl, I can tell. And if things get really bad, you know I'll always be there to help you talk about it!"
Meryl almost laughed, but not because she was trying to be mean. The other girl was just always so honest and dedicated when it came to certain matters of the heart that it was simply unbelievable. Sometimes Meryl even wished she could, just once, borrow Millie's ability to speak her mind. Because, like it or not, she had plenty to say.
But of course, once again, she merely avoided the subject completely.
"I suppose that we should wait until we can talk to Vash about the whole thing. After all, we go where he goes, like it or not."
"Yeah, I suppose so," Millie sighed and took another two pieces of toast, surprising her friend with her appetite this morning. "Well, I'm not going to complain about it, because my big sister always told me that complaining doesn't solve your problems…but do you think that maybe Mr. Vash might follow us for once? I would like to go get a new outfit from a store I heard about in LR town. In fact, we haven't been clothes shopping in so long Meryl…wouldn't you like to have something new too?"
Meryl sighed, eyes rolling up in her head. "A new life maybe…no…this one isn't so bad…it's just that good for nothing-"
"Oh Meryl, you're funny," Millie giggled, then stopped suddenly and put her toast back down. She didn't look like she felt very well for a moment, and now that Meryl had noticed a second time this week, the other woman felt that it was high time she should ask. In fact, it was very strange that Millie hadn't spoken to her about it already, since they normally told each other practically everything.
"You don't look like you feel well Millie."
"Um…well, uh, Meryl…." The younger woman looked everywhere but into her friend's face.
"Don't you think you should maybe see a doctor." Meryl stared into her eyes, suddenly concerned, and Millie found that she could look nowhere else.
"Uh…I already did. She said I was just fine."
"Really?" Meryl only seemed more confused. "You sure you're okay? You look a little pale."
Millie stared at the other woman for a long moment, and then she stood up, resting a fist on the table, trying to find the courage that she knew would be needed.
"No Meryl, I'm not okay….I….I need to tell you something."
* * *
"Um…Wolfwood?"
The other man glanced at him as Vash gained his feet, dusting off his knees like it was the most usual thing in the world to suddenly see a dead man.
Wolfwood grinned, as shameless as ever, and spread out his arms. "Hey, in the flesh…er, maybe not. Okay…okay, so I'm dead. But at least I'm good at being dead. You however, need to work at being Vash."
The gunman wrinkled his nose at the priest, voice rising.
"Look who's talking! If you're so good at being dead, how come you're here, huh?"
Nick looked down at himself for a moment, then gave Vash a stare that could have melted lead.
"Would you believe it if I said I wanted to look for rust spots on my Angelina II?"
"That thing's one giant rust spot, you wouldn't have to look that hard."
"I resent that, I was gonna give you that rust spot you damn Ton-"
"You were gonna give me your motorcycle?" Vash started to tease, "But what am I supposed to do with it? It doesn't even run anymore!"
"Well, not killing yourself with it would be a noble first step."
They stared at each other for a long moment, until Wolfwood grin returned, and he started to laugh, the stub of his cigarette falling onto the sand. The other man merely stared at him, eyes widening before he relaxed his guard, convinced that he wasn't imagining this.
"Yep…" Vash finally smiled, "That's the Nicholas D. Wolfwood I know! Um…it's good to see ya Nick….eh, even if you are a little…corporally challenged." He stepped toward the other man, pushing the Cross Punisher onto its side in the sand.
"Good you see you too Mr. Vash the Stampede. Or should I say that I'm more glad that it's the other way around? I wasn't even sure you could see me, most people around here can't. But then, I figured that there was something about you that might help me out, seeing as you appear to be no mere mortal. You aren't are you?"
Vash frowned, suddenly realizing again that this was something else that separated him from the human race.
"Don't tell me you came all the way back from the grave to debate superpowers with me."
"Hardly. I figured we could lighten the mood a little before I have to grind your face in the sand again."
The outlaw stared at him for a second, as if trying to determine whether or not he was speaking literally. Finally, Nick gave him a lopsided smile, and Vash shook his head, looking at the ground and the weapon resting at his side as he spoke.
"Ha ha Wolfwood, your sense of humor is MUCH improved, really. But can I take a rain check, I have work to do." He bent down again and finished dusting off the Cross Punisher
"And you're still so incredibly patient too," Nick jabbed, "another super-ability."
"Yeah, rates right up their with laser vision, my friend."
Wolfwood watched the man before him lift the heavy cross, his eyes becoming thoughtful as he spoke.
"Vash…eh…is something bothering you?"
"No, no problems at all," the gunman laughed bitterly, "it's just that I have a man out to kill me, or my brother, but it might as well be me. The insurance girls are acting stranger then normal, in fact, I think Millie might be sick. Meryl seems like she wants to tell me something…but then she doesn't. My brother might die this time, because of me, and I might have to kill again. I don't want to! I don't understand any of it and I don't know why the fates can't just leave me alone, ya know?"
In less then ten seconds, Nicholas watched the other man go from intensely angry to depressingly sad. It made him wonder for a moment if his friend wasn't as 'in control' as he tried to seem on the surface. Vash talked about love and peace…but in his heart, Nick knew, he was probably at war with his very soul. In fact, the priest realized, half the time he had no idea exactly how Vash felt about anything. Or at least it had seemed that way when he hadn't been such a dead man. But he could take a good guess.
Inside, Vash probably felt the same way he did.
"Yeah Vash, I know. Lady fate seemed to like me a little too much as well. But I also know that you'd rather not talk about it, because you've probably already got a plan of escape figured out, and not a single sandstorm on this God-forsaken rock is going to change your mind."
"Hey," Vash pulled out of his own moping enough to go over Nick's words in his head. "I thought that a priest wasn't supposed to take the Lord's name in vain like that?!"
"Hey Tongari, since when have I followed any type of-"
"Meow!"
Both men turned around to see a little black furball race over the nearest dune and run straight into Vash's boots. The furball toppled over, shook itself, then looked up at them both pleadingly. Nick eyed the new addition, then sighed.
"You fed her, didn't you Vash?"
"Aww, come on Nick! What about loving all of God's creatures? I thought you said something about that at some point."
"That may be true…but loving them and feeding a cat are two different things."
Kuroneko eyed both men, then trotted over and rubbed up against Nick's leg, purring. He glanced down at her, suddenly uneasy.
"Look Wolfwood, she likes you."
"Yeah, but she's a mangy little fuzzball, isn't she?"
The cat stopped purring and looked up at him for a second. He could swear that she was smiling. Then, she leaned sideways and bit him in the leg before racing back over a dune toward the town.
Once he had finished hopping around, and yelling at Vash for laughing at him, Nicholas bent to examine the Cross Punisher for himself.
"You can stop laughing now, you idiot! Well, well, she fared okay."
"She who?" Vash had dropped the weapon when he had started giggling, and now he seemed to remember it. His expression turned serious, but the smile didn't leave his eyes.
"My gun! Do you see anyone else out here worth mentioning?"
"I thought you were talking about the cat. It's a girl too, you know."
The priest just rolled his eyes, realizing that Vash would try the patience of a saint. The outlaw just sighed, realizing, once more, that he had just done something wrong.
"Um…Nicholas?" Vash tried again, looking worried. "I…I am very happy to know that, wherever you are, you're okay. I didn't mean to make you mad…it's just…that was so funny and-"
"Don't sweat it, and don't get all emotional on me again. Besides, I've got a present for you."
He gained his feet and held out the Cross Punisher. The weapon hung between them like a peace offering, and Vash stared at it, but didn't move to take it.
"I would be honored if you kept this for me, Vash. There is already so much blood on it that I would want only you to have it. It needs to be a weapon of compassion now, not one of hatred. And I know that only a man like you could truly use it for what it was really meant to be."
"But…Nick? I can't take it, it isn't mine and I can't ask for it either. I thought that you'd just come back to pick it up."
"No," Nick smiled, "Take it already. A guy doesn't really need that kind of cross in heaven."
"If you're sure…I…wait, I need to find the canvas to wrap it up. Don't leave on me."
Vash disappeared into the mist for several minutes, and when he returned he was toting the fabric and a bunch of leather straps. Nick took them from him and wrapped it up without really concentrating, his hands remembering on their own.
"So, you said that Millie isn't feeling well? I mean, I know she's probably missing me…um, has she told you anything lately Tongari that surprised you?"
"Um," Vash turned this over in his mind for a moment. Millie amazed him on a regular basis. "Nope."
"Uh, yeah, okay then Vash, I suppose-" his voice dropped off for a moment. "Listen, I really feel bad for the big girl…it's gonna be tough for her. Would you let her know that I'm watching out for her? Would you keep her safe for me?"
"Of course," the other man nodded, "I know how much she meant to you….and still does. Which brings me back to the topic….why are you really here?"
"I got a favor to ask, think you can handle it?"
Vash reached up and scratched the back of his neck, but didn't look away. "Now I can't really deny a dead man, can I?"
Nick laughed, having finished with the cross he put it back down for a moment and dusted off his hands.
"You know that orphanage I was telling you about? The one near December? Well there was another priest that worked there with me, taught me a lot of stuff I should have actually paid attention to…. Anyway, he won't know what happened to me unless someone is able to tell him. I didn't make too many friends around here, traveled too much, and you guys were the only ones to see me go down. Would you do it for me?"
He hated to give people bad news of any sort, but it was his friend's last request, and Vash wasn't going to deny it.
"Of course."
"Great guy! Remind me to put in a good word for you with the man upstairs…"
Nick watched Vash for a moment longer and pulled a cigarette packet from one of his pockets. He looked at it, then tossed it into the sand as if he had just reconsidered something. Vash bent to retrieve it, concerned, but the other man stopped him with a gentle hand on his back.
"I'm trying to quit now."
The gunman looked alarmed. "YOU? Why?"
"Hey broom-head, times change. I change, you change. Thing is, I'm dead now, so it shouldn't matter…but it still does. Being dead doesn't solve all your problems."
"Yah," Vash laughed, "it doesn't solve any of them, does it?"
"Nope. Besides, Millie wanted me to…I can at least do one thing for her… Well-"
There was a tense silence for several seconds as Wolfwood once more offered Vash the huge cross. The other man took it and strapped it to his back. Nick stood back, putting a hand on his chin and considering the spectacle before him.
"Hey, you look great there Tongari, a real action hero."
"Thanks," Vash felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he didn't brush it away. "You've helped me get a little more peace anyway…knowing that you really are okay."
"Well…I'm glad to know that you've started to find some peace, old friend." Nick cleared his throat, holding back the tears that were threatening to cut his own words off. "Now, all you need is love I would guess."
"Yes, I'm still a love hunter, aren't I? I don't think that'll ever change."
"Perhaps not, perhaps not," the priest patted him on the back. Then, they both looked up as a little girl ran toward them from out of, the fog, smiling and holding a bright red ball. She giggled when she saw Nick, jumping around at his feet.
"Aren't you gonna come finish that game with us Mr. Priest! The other team is winning! Come on!"
He reached down and patted her on the head, and Vash smiled tenderly.
"Well, I've got a game to get back to, and you've got a future to make. And neither of us can shirk those duties." He elbowed Vash playfully, then took the little girl's hand. "I'll see you around Vash…one day, we'll meet again, in Paradise. I'm sure of it."
Vash turned away, wiping the tears that threatened to flood his vision, and when he turned back, he was once more all alone.
The gunman sighed deeply, kneeling down on the sand and looking off into the haze, his eyes unfocused. Above him, the suns were starting to clear off the fog with their heat, warming his body but not his soul. After another moment, he shifted his vision toward Gunsmoke, each single inch of it covered in that infernal sand.
Vash stared down at the ground for a long time, his lanky shadow stretching out over the dust, and the shadow of the cross at his back looming over him, a weight he would carry willingly. He rested his palms against the warmth radiating from the earth below, and closed his eyes.
"Yes, I will never forget you Nick….and, and, I'll never forget any of you that cared. I always remember, and I always will, for all of you…because, in the end…I know I will be the only one left who can't ever forget."
Then, without another word, he regained his feet and slipped back into reality. There were many miles yet to travel…and too many more, he realized, stood between him and the man who had just offered him Paradise. There was no going back, though right now, he wanted that one thing more then anything else in the world.
Endnotes: Nicky was in this chapter! I enjoyed writing the dialogue between Vash and Wolfwood, since they're so funny when they get together...I hope I stayed in character though, it was hard to write for Nick. About the whole "Vash seeing spirits" thing. I figured that he probably does sometimes. He's lost so many people, and with the plant-powers that he has, whether he denies them or not, he's got to occasionally see things that the rest of us can't. Be those solutions to complicated problems, or the ghost of his dead best friend. I mean, why not? Anyway, next chapter either Wednesday or Thursday, so check back then.
Authors' quick note: This is chapter 4! I've reached the half-way point! *throws confetti at readers*. There are supposed to be eight chapters in Hold On, before I start the second part (at least that's how I've planned it), just in case you wondered. Oh, and this chapter is the longest one, by the way. After this they go back to being normal length. I promise no more loooong chapters (I hope it isn't too long, let me know. I just didn't know what to delete).
Thank You's: Thank you to all of my great readers who came back for the last chapter, and the newest ones as well! Thanks to Magnet-Rose, Jami, and Rosebud, Neptune Butterfly and my newest reviewer, dark-pyro-angel. I think I've given *almost* everyone (I'm not done reading some people's chapters yet) at least one review by now, and I'm going to continue reviewing. There were a couple of people that didn't sign their reviews and I couldn't find you when I did an author's search, so if you would like a review from me, please let me know who to look for (email me or something), thanks! (And thank you to all those readers that I know are reading this and won't be writing a review for me either! *cries*)
By the way…Jami gets the cookie! (And ten points ^-^) She guessed the band correctly, it's Good Charlotte! The song "Hold On" is from their newer (I think newest, not sure…) album, The Young and the Hopeless (another thing I cannot claim ownership to, so no suing). Don't know where the Trigun connection came from though…
Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, if you haven't figured this out yet, you're dumber then I thought, and I have a bridge to sell you.
Chapter IV: Back in the Saddle
"Man, what am I going to do…."
Vash continued to stare out the bedroom window and into the street, watching tendrils of fog twist between buildings and over the ocean of endless sand. It was around five in the morning, and the house around him was utterly silent. For a little while, at least, he knew that he would have some solitude to think, a thing that he desperately needed to do.
Another two days had passed, and still Vash had no answers. Every idea he ran through always ended in someone being hurt…or worse, conditions that he just wouldn't allow. Yet there had to be a solution, he was sure of it. After over a hundred years of life, he had learned that there was a solution to practically everything if you just figured it out fast enough.
Squinting out into the fog, as if the answers were written somewhere just beyond his sight, Vash put an elbow on one of his knees. Maybe he just wasn't thinking right. After all, he was still healing, both physically and emotionally, from his fight with Knives. It seemed only rational to admit to himself that he wasn't completely focused on the present problem, right?
But he also knew when he was stuck in a rut, and this time it was far more trouble then he had ever imagined it could possibly be.
Millie and Meryl couldn't help either. He had talked to them, and they were willing to make suggestions, but all of those ended in someone's death, as far as he could see it. Meryl had even suggested giving Knives over to Caverral, an option that he was definitely against in more ways then one.
Unfortunately, Vash also knew that the tactics he had tried in the past with other gunman wouldn't work. This man knew what Knives was capable of…and yet he was still hunting for him, meaning that he wasn't afraid of facing an immortal able to kill him with a mere glance, a fact that terrified Vash.
Down the hall, he could hear footsteps as the girls got up and moved into the kitchen. Meryl seemed to be awake, but Millie yawned and complained that her stomach hurt. She had been complaining about that a lot lately, and he was more then a little concerned that she was coming down with something.
The girls' soft conversation continued, accompanied by the scrape of a fork against a pan and the clunk of stonewear plates sliding over the kitchen table. Vash knew that Meryl was starting breakfast, an act that was gradually becoming familiar to him as the month progressed. And as always, Millie was setting the table and helping her out. Millie didn't help too much with the actual cooking portion of the morning, however. She wasn't a morning person and Meryl had politely informed her that she shouldn't try lighting her hair on fire anymore then was necessary by accidentally falling asleep over one of the hot pans.
After breakfast was finished, both girls had their own individual routines to follow. Millie would go off to do survey work with her construction crew, and Meryl would hang around the house for a while until around three in the afternoon, when she had to go to one of the local saloons and "waitress", as she so adamantly stated. Just for kicks Vash had tried to call her an actual "barmaid" once. Yes, he had gotten a lot of kicks out of that one…some of the bruises still hadn't dissapeared.
But, despite everyone's somewhat-joking manner, he got the feeling that certain things weren't as peaceful as he thought they were. Meryl's behavior itself had been odd enough already. Instead of sticking around in the mornings, or asking him if he would like to go shopping, the girl had been working longer shifts and trying her best to just avoid him.
Now, he knew that they weren't exactly living the high life, and half the time they were broke. But that was still no reason for her to work from suns up to suns down. Lately, ever since he had become more active around the house, she had been taking even more hours in the mornings. And whereas Millie was more then willing to joke around with him, Meryl always complained that she had something better to do…like take a shower.
Humans just puzzled him, no matter how hard he tried to understand and be like them. Of course, human men he could relate to, being male seemed to be one of those universal constants. But human females…they were a whole other jungle!
Across the room, Knives suddenly turned over in bed, sighing. He hadn't moved all morning, and Vash had seriously dreaded the prospect of going over and finding that his brother had died. That was another part of the reason why he hadn't moved from his vigil by the window…the part that he had tried not to think about.
Now that he was sure Knives was still with him, and frustrated that he wasn't going to get any answers this morning, Vash rose up out of his chair and moved to the side of his brother's bed. Knives heard his muffled footsteps, and the other Plant opened pain-laced eyes, eyes which took in his twin's face as his lips thinned and he started to whisper.
"Vash," he rasped, looking surprisingly worried, "my…my left leg hurts…it burns…"
Knives' left leg was still badly infected, one of the reasons why his fever hadn't completely abated, and Vash wondered if he was going to be able to keep the limb at this point. The lady doctor had come back to check on them a day ago, and at that point she had suggested amputation to keep him alive. But she, of course, didn't know that Knives' body had healing abilities far better then those of a human, a factor that gave him a high chance of surviving such an infection. Because of this, Vash had refused, Knives being unconscious at the time.
But even with the ability to heal rapidly, Vash still cursed himself for Knives' pain. It was his poor shot that had damaged the nerves in that leg, to such an extent that, even if they did heal, his twin would probably have to live with a limp. A prospect that he knew Knives wouldn't exactly cherish.
Vash realized that his brother wasn't just complaining about the pain either. Knives, to Vash's knowledge, never complained. But he did have a low tolerance for pain. He hated it with a passion, and it really amazed Vash that, time and again, he still inflicted so much of it on others.
When they had been living on the SEEDS ship, until Steve had gotten ahold of them, pain had primarily been an unknown force, something both boys had read about but never directly experienced. In fact, Vash could remember the first time that either of them had been hurt, and that had, oddly enough, been Knives.
They had been in the Kitchen area that led off into the lounge, helping Rem make something that she called vegetable soup. At the moment, their self-proclaimed mother was out of sight, putting a pot of water on the ship's stove unit, while Vash joked with Knives about cutting carrots into odd shapes.
The actual accident had happened so fast that neither of them had realized it at first. Vash had giggled, holding his cutting blade over the tip of a carrot, and Knives had leaned in to watch, placing his hands up on the counter.
Pushing the blade down, Vash had felt it slide in his grip and tried to compensate, but couldn't move fast enough. The tip caught Knives in the palm as he'd tried to pull away from Vash, realizing what was about to happen. Instead, he didn't move quite fast enough, and winced at the numbing feeling of icy cold that flooded his veins. Through their empathic link, stronger at that time then it was now, Vash had felt the shivery sensation as well, and he'd shuddered, looking up at the redness dripping down his twin's arm.
The other boy took a second to look down at his bloody palm, trembling, and then his eyes had widened, dark pupils filling his azure irises. After that he had looked back up at Vash, not knowing what to say or do.
Rem had come in at that moment, and Vash was glad that she didn't scream or anything. She did get pretty worried, and comforted the little boy until he pushed her away. And despite all the worry, the only things Knives actually needed was antiseptic and a bandage. Rem had also called Mary, who doubled as the ship's doctor, and the woman had given the boy a couple stitches. These Knives had hidden from everybody, even his brother, and the twins hadn't talked for a while.
Vash often wondered if that was where it had truly started afterall, even before Knives had consciously expressed his views, the divide had started to open with something as simple as pain.
Pushing the memory away, he realized that his brother was no longer watching him anymore. The other man's eyes were closed, his breathing even and soft, indicating that he was no longer conscious.
Something else drew Vash's attention away from the memory, and he looked over at the door. Steam trickled down the hallway, and he sniffed at it, hesitant to assess the kitchen's morning damage.
Meryl was cooking eggs today…and what smelled like thomas sausage…again. Thomas wasn't all that bad, if you put lots of ketchup on it and pretended it was something like beef. Still, the big mutant chickens pretty much tasted the way that they looked. Blatantly nasty.
Moving away from his brother, Vash glanced out the window again, then lifted the bottom glass panel and peered out into the street, coughing. The fog still hadn't lifted, and the light of the twin suns was a blurry haze on the horizon, both shafts of light watching him like the glowing eyes of something feral and angry.
He glanced back over his shoulder once, knowing that Meryl would come looking for him soon, and feeling just a little bit closed in by the monotony his life was becoming. All these years, and all these miles, and now finally he was stuck in one place.
And for the oddest reason, it was getting on his nerves.
Not that he hated it here, but it just didn't feel right. Funny how something as simple as never having a real home could change someone's desires when they actually got the chance to try one.
Besides, he needed a walk anyway. Thinking was easier when he let his feet do something, and now was as good a time as any to get away. Besides, the girls would be just fine without him and Knives wasn't going anywhere new.
Feeling a small sense of relief for the first time in a while, the Stampede swung himself out the window, tripped over the sill, and trotted off into the fog.
He didn't look back once.
* * *
As for what he might have planned for the actual beginning, middle, or end of his walk, Vash still hadn't made up his mind.
At first he thought that maybe he should go get a drink. It had been a while since the last one…perhaps a little too long, and his nerves needed something to calm them so that he could concentrate. Though, after the first glass he didn't tend to concentrate on much of anything but the second glass, and he seriously doubted that he would even be able to find his way home after that, let alone a solution to his problem.
Besides, Meryl seemed genuinely worried about the man that was going to come back for Knives. When she had talked to him a couple days ago, her eyes had held an honest fear, not hedged with doubt or uncertainty. The woman had been genuinely scared, a raw emotion that she so rarely showed him that he had come to trust it. Alcohol wasn't about to solve anything at this point…and besides, the day had just started. Though, come to think of it, he had started out a great many days pretty smashed…nah, forget it.
So now was not the time to get drunk…then perhaps it was time for….yes, maybe it was-
* * *
"Thanks miss, these look great!"
Vash curled both of his arms protectively around the small paper sack, grinning. The older woman minding the fried food stand at her doorstep gave him a small smile and a random nod, as she went back to stirring some French fries and doling out breakfast to a morning crowd.
Still grinning, Vash headed off down the street, pulling a honey-glazed doughnut out of the bag in his arms. He stuffed it whole into his mouth and sighed, finally feeling normal again. His brother may have been deathly ill, the insurance girls may have continued their harping, but at least there were still doughnuts to look forward to!
In spite of everything, feeling that all was still right with the world, he gulped down another doughnut and sauntered across the street, humming randomly. A little black cat dashed out from under the nearest porch and meowed at him pleadingly until he looked down at her.
"Um…do kitties like doughnuts? I don't know…I'm still a little upset at you for scratching me."
He frowned at her and the cat yawned, stretching as if to say 'I certainly don't remember it'.
"Meowwww!" She pleaded again, then blinked.
Kuroneko's tail tip started to move faster, and her whiskers twitched before she tilted her head around and ran off, suddenly oblivious to the conversation. Vash took a step toward her, meaning to call her back, and then froze in place.
A sudden chill along his back caused his head to jerk up in surprise. He looked down at his boots, and found himself in the shade of a cross. For a second, confused, he stared at it, then craned his neck back and looked up. To his left stood the town steeple, whitewashed walls flaking in the dry air. At the highest point on its roof, the lone cross, silhouetted by the rising haze of the twin suns, touched him with its shadow through the fog.
For a long moment, he simply didn't move. Then, looking put upon, he pulled another doughnut out of the bag and bit into it as he stared up at the tower, thoughts drifting.
Vash had never been much of a religious man, though he had thought about trying at one point, simply to see what it was all about. But being run out of town every other day didn't really help one explore a group religion very well, so he had given it up for the time being.
However, he did believe that his ability to get out of almost every situation in nearly one piece was a little more then luck. For the most part though, he blamed that one on his amazing, and somewhat annoying, ability to think his way out of almost everything and pure dumb luck.
As for whether or not there was some higher power out there governing everything that he did? Well, if there was, quite a while ago he would have loved to have a pretty heated discussion with that individual. It was about time that something went right.
He thought briefly about actually going into the chapel and trying to ask that higher power to help him sort all of this out. But he felt kinda funny about trying that, in part because he'd never actually done it before.
Sure, Vash prayed, every gunman did at some point. But mostly his prayers were to Rem's spirit, in the hopes that she would help him make the choice she would have made, a good choice that she would have been proud of. Now, however, he knew that she was depending on him to make his own choices. As a result he felt lost, not physically lost, but more or less like he was aimless inside, something he couldn't put a finger on.
But he still couldn't go inside now, even if part of him had wanted to. Ever since Nick had spent his last breath before an altar, Vash felt pain just looking at a cross alone. A church was meant to be a place of peace for everyone who entered, and now that he thought about it, he didn't think that he would ever truly feel at peace anywhere.
Besides, he mused, glancing down at himself, I'm not even dressed right.
He looked down at his long-sleeved, white cotton shirt and old jeans, sighed, and finished his doughnut.
"Meow?"
Kuroneko peered around the cross on the roof like a timid little ghost, a fishtail sticking out of her muzzle. Vash watched as she chomped on it, then flicked her tail tip at him and looked once more at the paper bag with interest. He smiled back up at her.
"So that's where you went, huh? Pretty high for such a little kitty, don't you think? How about you come down and I'll give you a doughnut."
Kuroneko disappeared from sight, then returned a moment later at ground level, eyes still wide and staring.
"Meow?" She mentioned expectantly.
Vash looked into the bag, then pulled out another doughnut.
"Well, I've only got one left…but you can have it."
He tossed it onto the sand and she gobbled it up, licking crumbs off her whiskers and hunting for missed pieces by her paws. When she was satisfied there was nothing left, she turned her attention back to him.
"Meeeowwww?"
"Sorry, that's it!" He put the bag down and started to walk away from her.
The black cat watched his retreating back for a moment, then hopped into the empty paper bag. The bag tipped over, but the purring Kuroneko inside didn't notice, she was too busy licking sugar off the paper.
* * *
Vash stood at the edge of town, unable to see even a few feet beyond the fog, and not really caring at the moment either, because he had just figured out how to save his brother once again.
Satisfied that the idea was probably the only one that would work, he looked up at the gauze-wrapped glare of the suns to get an idea of east, then headed off. Sand whispered over his boots, and the fog twisted about his ankles and arms, wraithlike, as he walked carefully over the open desert, trying not to think about how alone he really was.
Finally, after traveling for what he judged to be about an hour, Vash stopped at the edge of a depression in the earth. The sand had rounded off the edges already, but the crater still looked burnt in some places, and the huge roots of demolished trees poked up forlornly through the mist. He gave it all a passing glance, then slipped down into the pit and started to search.
He found the red coat first, the cotton fabric damp with dew and shook it out. Sand grains scattered, rustling and skittering away as he draped the fabric over one arm and started hunting once more.
The twin revolvers came next. His own was still in plain sight, glistening faintly and cool to the touch. He picked it up and drew back the hammer, wincing at the crunch of sand particles within, then he slid the hammer back and opened the barrel, looking disgusted. Sand had gotten into the chambers as well, and now it was going to need a thorough cleaning before it ever fired another shot.
The ebony Colt was a little harder to find. It had been thrown clear of their fight when Vash had shot Knives in the arm, and by now the revolver was neatly covered by the desert. Fortunately, being hidden did not mean that Vash had lost it. Over time he had learned that being near the guns made the tips of his fingers tingle as if they had fallen asleep, a sensation that went away when he brought the Colt into his hand. Such a strange detail didn't interfere with his aim, but it did prevent him from losing his own gun, one aspect of his life that he needed help with anyway, as he was always misplacing it.
The return of the black Colt into his hand was quick, and he pocketed both of them in the coat, glancing around through the mist and wondering what was holding him back from leaving at this point.
Something was missing…yes, something was definitely not right. He furrowed his brow, eyeing the desert beneath his feet with confusion and scuffing his boots in the sand. One of his boot toes hit something hard, and after he was done cursing in several different languages, he knelt down to see it.
Beneath his feet, a tiny patch of steel glittered up at him. A ghost of a smile crossed Vash's eyes as he recognized what he had just bumped into. Moving the coat farther up his arm so that it wouldn't fall off, he knelt down by the wayward Cross Punisher, brushing sand and dew off the arms, exposing the gleaming surface to the suns once more. The weapon still looked to be in very good shape. All of it's various hatches were closed, and no sand had gotten inside. He admired it for a moment, hands clenching the metal arms as he whispered to it.
"Thanks for saving me there, old friend."
Shaking more sand off, Vash rose back to his feet, hoisting the weapon up from the ground so that it stood on its longest end. He felt strange though, taking it with him when it had belonged to Nicholas for who knows how long. Millie had told him that he should have it, and use it. But that just didn't seem right. A man's gun was a very personal piece of who he was, and Vash didn't know if he was ready or not to accept a part of Wolfwood that he had rejected for so long in himself.
An oddly, and pleasantly, warm wind brushed his left side, and Vash turned, suddenly alert.
In front of him, through the fog, shoes crunched against sand. It was such a subtle sound, and muffled in the damp air, that very few would have heard it. But Vash did, and he looked up, eyes half-veiled and his entire body taunt .
A hand swept out at the fog, and the familiar smell of tobacco smoke tickled his nose, bringing back memories that both confused and excited him. Vash sneezed, and then his jaw dropped as he looked up at the person currently standing before him.
"Hey Tongari. Have you gotten so high and mighty you can't thank a guy personally or what?"
* * *
"Well, Vash is gone again….not like that's anything new…"
Meryl came back down the hall out of his room, shaking her head, and Millie looked up from her plate, wondering what the older woman was so worried about anyway.
"Oh, he probably just went for a walk ma'am. He's got a lot on his mind after all," she turned over her toast and put some strawberry jam on it, "you know he wouldn't just leave us. Besides, his brother's still here. Don't worry so much Meryl, he's not going to forget about you."
The other woman tried to hide her blush as she moved to the stove and took a sausage out of the pan, pushing it onto her plate.
"I'm not concerned about that Millie, I just didn't want him running off and causing another disaster again. After all, even though we are staying here for a while until things settle down, he's still our responsibility. That certainly hasn't changed."
"That reminds me ma'am…where are we going after Mr. Vash's brother gets better? You didn't mention anything to me after you talked to him…and I was a little curious. Besides, my big big brother asked in his letter…and I didn't know what to tell him."
Meryl sat down on the other side of the table, looking down at her plate for a moment.
"Um…I really don't know, I guess. I hadn't really thought about it. My parents are coming to visit afterall…and I just kinda-"
"Oh, that'll turn out okay," Millie assured her, smiling. "They do love you Meryl, I can tell. And if things get really bad, you know I'll always be there to help you talk about it!"
Meryl almost laughed, but not because she was trying to be mean. The other girl was just always so honest and dedicated when it came to certain matters of the heart that it was simply unbelievable. Sometimes Meryl even wished she could, just once, borrow Millie's ability to speak her mind. Because, like it or not, she had plenty to say.
But of course, once again, she merely avoided the subject completely.
"I suppose that we should wait until we can talk to Vash about the whole thing. After all, we go where he goes, like it or not."
"Yeah, I suppose so," Millie sighed and took another two pieces of toast, surprising her friend with her appetite this morning. "Well, I'm not going to complain about it, because my big sister always told me that complaining doesn't solve your problems…but do you think that maybe Mr. Vash might follow us for once? I would like to go get a new outfit from a store I heard about in LR town. In fact, we haven't been clothes shopping in so long Meryl…wouldn't you like to have something new too?"
Meryl sighed, eyes rolling up in her head. "A new life maybe…no…this one isn't so bad…it's just that good for nothing-"
"Oh Meryl, you're funny," Millie giggled, then stopped suddenly and put her toast back down. She didn't look like she felt very well for a moment, and now that Meryl had noticed a second time this week, the other woman felt that it was high time she should ask. In fact, it was very strange that Millie hadn't spoken to her about it already, since they normally told each other practically everything.
"You don't look like you feel well Millie."
"Um…well, uh, Meryl…." The younger woman looked everywhere but into her friend's face.
"Don't you think you should maybe see a doctor." Meryl stared into her eyes, suddenly concerned, and Millie found that she could look nowhere else.
"Uh…I already did. She said I was just fine."
"Really?" Meryl only seemed more confused. "You sure you're okay? You look a little pale."
Millie stared at the other woman for a long moment, and then she stood up, resting a fist on the table, trying to find the courage that she knew would be needed.
"No Meryl, I'm not okay….I….I need to tell you something."
* * *
"Um…Wolfwood?"
The other man glanced at him as Vash gained his feet, dusting off his knees like it was the most usual thing in the world to suddenly see a dead man.
Wolfwood grinned, as shameless as ever, and spread out his arms. "Hey, in the flesh…er, maybe not. Okay…okay, so I'm dead. But at least I'm good at being dead. You however, need to work at being Vash."
The gunman wrinkled his nose at the priest, voice rising.
"Look who's talking! If you're so good at being dead, how come you're here, huh?"
Nick looked down at himself for a moment, then gave Vash a stare that could have melted lead.
"Would you believe it if I said I wanted to look for rust spots on my Angelina II?"
"That thing's one giant rust spot, you wouldn't have to look that hard."
"I resent that, I was gonna give you that rust spot you damn Ton-"
"You were gonna give me your motorcycle?" Vash started to tease, "But what am I supposed to do with it? It doesn't even run anymore!"
"Well, not killing yourself with it would be a noble first step."
They stared at each other for a long moment, until Wolfwood grin returned, and he started to laugh, the stub of his cigarette falling onto the sand. The other man merely stared at him, eyes widening before he relaxed his guard, convinced that he wasn't imagining this.
"Yep…" Vash finally smiled, "That's the Nicholas D. Wolfwood I know! Um…it's good to see ya Nick….eh, even if you are a little…corporally challenged." He stepped toward the other man, pushing the Cross Punisher onto its side in the sand.
"Good you see you too Mr. Vash the Stampede. Or should I say that I'm more glad that it's the other way around? I wasn't even sure you could see me, most people around here can't. But then, I figured that there was something about you that might help me out, seeing as you appear to be no mere mortal. You aren't are you?"
Vash frowned, suddenly realizing again that this was something else that separated him from the human race.
"Don't tell me you came all the way back from the grave to debate superpowers with me."
"Hardly. I figured we could lighten the mood a little before I have to grind your face in the sand again."
The outlaw stared at him for a second, as if trying to determine whether or not he was speaking literally. Finally, Nick gave him a lopsided smile, and Vash shook his head, looking at the ground and the weapon resting at his side as he spoke.
"Ha ha Wolfwood, your sense of humor is MUCH improved, really. But can I take a rain check, I have work to do." He bent down again and finished dusting off the Cross Punisher
"And you're still so incredibly patient too," Nick jabbed, "another super-ability."
"Yeah, rates right up their with laser vision, my friend."
Wolfwood watched the man before him lift the heavy cross, his eyes becoming thoughtful as he spoke.
"Vash…eh…is something bothering you?"
"No, no problems at all," the gunman laughed bitterly, "it's just that I have a man out to kill me, or my brother, but it might as well be me. The insurance girls are acting stranger then normal, in fact, I think Millie might be sick. Meryl seems like she wants to tell me something…but then she doesn't. My brother might die this time, because of me, and I might have to kill again. I don't want to! I don't understand any of it and I don't know why the fates can't just leave me alone, ya know?"
In less then ten seconds, Nicholas watched the other man go from intensely angry to depressingly sad. It made him wonder for a moment if his friend wasn't as 'in control' as he tried to seem on the surface. Vash talked about love and peace…but in his heart, Nick knew, he was probably at war with his very soul. In fact, the priest realized, half the time he had no idea exactly how Vash felt about anything. Or at least it had seemed that way when he hadn't been such a dead man. But he could take a good guess.
Inside, Vash probably felt the same way he did.
"Yeah Vash, I know. Lady fate seemed to like me a little too much as well. But I also know that you'd rather not talk about it, because you've probably already got a plan of escape figured out, and not a single sandstorm on this God-forsaken rock is going to change your mind."
"Hey," Vash pulled out of his own moping enough to go over Nick's words in his head. "I thought that a priest wasn't supposed to take the Lord's name in vain like that?!"
"Hey Tongari, since when have I followed any type of-"
"Meow!"
Both men turned around to see a little black furball race over the nearest dune and run straight into Vash's boots. The furball toppled over, shook itself, then looked up at them both pleadingly. Nick eyed the new addition, then sighed.
"You fed her, didn't you Vash?"
"Aww, come on Nick! What about loving all of God's creatures? I thought you said something about that at some point."
"That may be true…but loving them and feeding a cat are two different things."
Kuroneko eyed both men, then trotted over and rubbed up against Nick's leg, purring. He glanced down at her, suddenly uneasy.
"Look Wolfwood, she likes you."
"Yeah, but she's a mangy little fuzzball, isn't she?"
The cat stopped purring and looked up at him for a second. He could swear that she was smiling. Then, she leaned sideways and bit him in the leg before racing back over a dune toward the town.
Once he had finished hopping around, and yelling at Vash for laughing at him, Nicholas bent to examine the Cross Punisher for himself.
"You can stop laughing now, you idiot! Well, well, she fared okay."
"She who?" Vash had dropped the weapon when he had started giggling, and now he seemed to remember it. His expression turned serious, but the smile didn't leave his eyes.
"My gun! Do you see anyone else out here worth mentioning?"
"I thought you were talking about the cat. It's a girl too, you know."
The priest just rolled his eyes, realizing that Vash would try the patience of a saint. The outlaw just sighed, realizing, once more, that he had just done something wrong.
"Um…Nicholas?" Vash tried again, looking worried. "I…I am very happy to know that, wherever you are, you're okay. I didn't mean to make you mad…it's just…that was so funny and-"
"Don't sweat it, and don't get all emotional on me again. Besides, I've got a present for you."
He gained his feet and held out the Cross Punisher. The weapon hung between them like a peace offering, and Vash stared at it, but didn't move to take it.
"I would be honored if you kept this for me, Vash. There is already so much blood on it that I would want only you to have it. It needs to be a weapon of compassion now, not one of hatred. And I know that only a man like you could truly use it for what it was really meant to be."
"But…Nick? I can't take it, it isn't mine and I can't ask for it either. I thought that you'd just come back to pick it up."
"No," Nick smiled, "Take it already. A guy doesn't really need that kind of cross in heaven."
"If you're sure…I…wait, I need to find the canvas to wrap it up. Don't leave on me."
Vash disappeared into the mist for several minutes, and when he returned he was toting the fabric and a bunch of leather straps. Nick took them from him and wrapped it up without really concentrating, his hands remembering on their own.
"So, you said that Millie isn't feeling well? I mean, I know she's probably missing me…um, has she told you anything lately Tongari that surprised you?"
"Um," Vash turned this over in his mind for a moment. Millie amazed him on a regular basis. "Nope."
"Uh, yeah, okay then Vash, I suppose-" his voice dropped off for a moment. "Listen, I really feel bad for the big girl…it's gonna be tough for her. Would you let her know that I'm watching out for her? Would you keep her safe for me?"
"Of course," the other man nodded, "I know how much she meant to you….and still does. Which brings me back to the topic….why are you really here?"
"I got a favor to ask, think you can handle it?"
Vash reached up and scratched the back of his neck, but didn't look away. "Now I can't really deny a dead man, can I?"
Nick laughed, having finished with the cross he put it back down for a moment and dusted off his hands.
"You know that orphanage I was telling you about? The one near December? Well there was another priest that worked there with me, taught me a lot of stuff I should have actually paid attention to…. Anyway, he won't know what happened to me unless someone is able to tell him. I didn't make too many friends around here, traveled too much, and you guys were the only ones to see me go down. Would you do it for me?"
He hated to give people bad news of any sort, but it was his friend's last request, and Vash wasn't going to deny it.
"Of course."
"Great guy! Remind me to put in a good word for you with the man upstairs…"
Nick watched Vash for a moment longer and pulled a cigarette packet from one of his pockets. He looked at it, then tossed it into the sand as if he had just reconsidered something. Vash bent to retrieve it, concerned, but the other man stopped him with a gentle hand on his back.
"I'm trying to quit now."
The gunman looked alarmed. "YOU? Why?"
"Hey broom-head, times change. I change, you change. Thing is, I'm dead now, so it shouldn't matter…but it still does. Being dead doesn't solve all your problems."
"Yah," Vash laughed, "it doesn't solve any of them, does it?"
"Nope. Besides, Millie wanted me to…I can at least do one thing for her… Well-"
There was a tense silence for several seconds as Wolfwood once more offered Vash the huge cross. The other man took it and strapped it to his back. Nick stood back, putting a hand on his chin and considering the spectacle before him.
"Hey, you look great there Tongari, a real action hero."
"Thanks," Vash felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he didn't brush it away. "You've helped me get a little more peace anyway…knowing that you really are okay."
"Well…I'm glad to know that you've started to find some peace, old friend." Nick cleared his throat, holding back the tears that were threatening to cut his own words off. "Now, all you need is love I would guess."
"Yes, I'm still a love hunter, aren't I? I don't think that'll ever change."
"Perhaps not, perhaps not," the priest patted him on the back. Then, they both looked up as a little girl ran toward them from out of, the fog, smiling and holding a bright red ball. She giggled when she saw Nick, jumping around at his feet.
"Aren't you gonna come finish that game with us Mr. Priest! The other team is winning! Come on!"
He reached down and patted her on the head, and Vash smiled tenderly.
"Well, I've got a game to get back to, and you've got a future to make. And neither of us can shirk those duties." He elbowed Vash playfully, then took the little girl's hand. "I'll see you around Vash…one day, we'll meet again, in Paradise. I'm sure of it."
Vash turned away, wiping the tears that threatened to flood his vision, and when he turned back, he was once more all alone.
The gunman sighed deeply, kneeling down on the sand and looking off into the haze, his eyes unfocused. Above him, the suns were starting to clear off the fog with their heat, warming his body but not his soul. After another moment, he shifted his vision toward Gunsmoke, each single inch of it covered in that infernal sand.
Vash stared down at the ground for a long time, his lanky shadow stretching out over the dust, and the shadow of the cross at his back looming over him, a weight he would carry willingly. He rested his palms against the warmth radiating from the earth below, and closed his eyes.
"Yes, I will never forget you Nick….and, and, I'll never forget any of you that cared. I always remember, and I always will, for all of you…because, in the end…I know I will be the only one left who can't ever forget."
Then, without another word, he regained his feet and slipped back into reality. There were many miles yet to travel…and too many more, he realized, stood between him and the man who had just offered him Paradise. There was no going back, though right now, he wanted that one thing more then anything else in the world.
Endnotes: Nicky was in this chapter! I enjoyed writing the dialogue between Vash and Wolfwood, since they're so funny when they get together...I hope I stayed in character though, it was hard to write for Nick. About the whole "Vash seeing spirits" thing. I figured that he probably does sometimes. He's lost so many people, and with the plant-powers that he has, whether he denies them or not, he's got to occasionally see things that the rest of us can't. Be those solutions to complicated problems, or the ghost of his dead best friend. I mean, why not? Anyway, next chapter either Wednesday or Thursday, so check back then.