Chapter 5

Stripped to the waist, Vash sat by the cracked mirror, shaving his face. It was hard, he'd already obtained several small cuts, but then almost everything was hard to do without his left hand. It was odd how many tasks suddenly became almost impossible, how much he had relied on it for balance, co-ordination and even as a simple prop.

Not that he could remember using it for any one job in particular, much of his recollection was sill a fuzzy haze, but he knew he'd used it for a lot.

He'd been living with Rem for over four months now… well, that wasn't true. He'd been living with her for over a year, ever since they'd been married but he could only recall the last four months.

It was very frustrating.

He liked Rem a lot; she was kind and looked after him in every way. She'd bathed, fed, watered and clothed him. Without her the gangs would have torn him apart in the streets because, for some reason, they had connected him with some other guy, Vash the Stampede.

Vash knew he wasn't that man, Rem had said so, she said it was just a case of mistaken identity and that it would all be sorted out soon enough.

Not that life was bliss, it was very hard. Rem wouldn't even let him outside, though she had to go out on a regular basis to gather food and other supplies. They were currently living in the cellar of their old home, now mere rubble above them. It was cramped, dirty and dark but Vash didn't mind. So long as he was with Rem…

He frowned to himself in the mirror, watching as his reflection crease it's brow in puzzlement, it was strange though… for although he was happy he was also… troubled.

Well, he had a right to, didn't he? It wasn't as if everything was just rosy, the entire city had been destroyed! It was a small miracle they were still alive, that they still had food and water enough…

Rem had said that, sooner or later, the Refugee vehicles would come and they could leave with them, head off to a new city and make a new life but for now at least, they were stuck here.

That wasn't what was bothering him, though… the thing that bothered him… the thing that bothered him was that… he couldn't tell what was bothering him. And that was bothersome in itself.

Something was wrong, he felt sure of it, something was not quite right. Yet it all seemed right, in a way, seemed good, but it also seemed wrong. When he tried to figure out what was wrong, though, he met this kind of mental barrier in his mind, like a block he just couldn't pass. So now he'd more or less given up trying, things would sort themselves out, sooner or later.

He paused from his shaving and looked at himself in the mirror, studying his reflection. Not for the first time he allowed his hand to trace across the network of scars that covered his chest and much of his body.

'Vash, what's wrong?'

He turned at the sound of that sweet voice, Rem stood just behind him, a dirty dish cloth in her hands. She'd just finished off doing the washing in an old brass tub they possessed.

'How did I get these again?' asked Vash, his hand still tracing the scars.

'In the fight, remember? When you were jumped by those thugs and lost your arm?'

Vash nodded, yes, she'd told him about that. He'd gone out, just after the disaster, to look for the sheriff and he'd been attacked by some vigilantes who'd shot off his arm and beaten him to a pulp before running off, leaving him for dead. Luckily Rem had found him and brought him back, he'd be dead without her to take care of him.

'Yeah,' he said, 'but most of these are old, see? I can't have got all of those scars in the fight…'

'Well,' said Rem carefully, 'you got most of those back in our home town. You… you used to be a deputy to the sheriff.'

'I did!' Vash felt a surge of excitement at this, 'was I good?'

'Very,' laughed Rem, 'you were an excellent deputy, but you left that life behind when you came here, right?'

'I guess so,' sighed Vash, he frowned, 'did I use a gun?'

'Of course.'

'Was I a good shot?'

Another, long pause, 'I suppose so,' she replied, sounding uncertain.

'Oh…' he fell silent for a while, then spoke, 'Rem I didn't… I didn't kill anyone, did I?'

He couldn't keep the note of high pitched fear out of his voice. He didn't know why but the thought of killing someone, of making them go away and never come back, it terrified him beyond words. He tried to remember why it made him feel so dreadful, why it filled him with revulsion but once again he faced that strange, mental barrier.

'Rem?' he squeaked again, having received no answer from her.

'No…' she said at last, though her words were halting, 'no, as far as I know you never killed anyone.'

'Oh, good,' sighed Vash, relief flooding through his veins, 'Rem… if I did… if I did kill someone… could you ever forgive me?'

'Silly Vash,' giggled Rem, putting her arms around him, 'I'd forgive you almost anything, you know that!'

He smiled and for a brief moment felt some measure of contentment flood through his body. They remained there for a while, just holding each other. Eventually Rem's hand sneaked up to his head to brush his spiky gold locks.

'You know,' she drawled, 'you really need a hair cut… this is too long and too spiky!'

'But I like it spiky,' pouted Vash.

'Mmmm… but it looks silly… when we get out of this place we'll go to a barber and give you a nice, short, sensible hair cut… you'd like that, wouldn't you?'

'I guess so,' conceded Vash, he supposed he would like anything she gave him.

'Good,' she purred, her hand falling back to his chest. Slowly, gently, her fingers moved upon his bare skin in a way that had nothing to do with medical check ups or mere curiosity.

'R-Rem?' stuttered Vash.

'Shhh love,' she whispered, biting his ear softly, 'let's go to bed…'

'But I'm not sleepy.'

'Good… neither am I!'

Vash allowed her to pull him to his feet and lead him to the bed. Something within him said that this was wrong, some how, very, very, very wrong. Yet… yet this was Rem. He loved Rem. How could this be wrong? Rem would never do anything to hurt him. Rem would never make him do anything he didn't want, not deep down. Rem would never lie to him, would she? No. Never.

Never…

'So… on the first night a pebble falls to earth…'

Vash sang under his breath as he prepared their dinner, he was getting more and more accustomed to his predicament. Learning ways to cope with only one arm, he hardly ever fell over now and could do most tasks without too much difficulty. Sure, he needed help with some things, but soon he'd be just fine!

Tonight, for example, Rem had allowed him to make dinner whilst she sewed up some old cloths. He'd asked her if she was going to sew up his old coat but she said she wasn't going to. After all, it was the coat he'd worn as the Sheriff's deputy, he didn't really need it any more. It was an ugly coat; anyway, it reminded her of bad things.

Vash actually rather liked it, but he didn't quibble with her, if it upset Rem then it simply had to go.

'That's a nice song,' she said.

'You should know,' he laughed, 'you taught it me! I just remembered the rest of the verses just today; it's your song, Rem. I know it!'

Rem blinked, as if shocked, then she smiled, 'yes,' she laughed, 'yes, I suppose so; I'd just forgotten how much I liked it, that's all!'

There was something then, something in her wide blue eyes which bothered him, but he ignored it. It was probably nothing.

He returned his attention to cooking dinner. He'd made the rice now, and the source but the meal needed something else…

Ah, vegetables, some carrots perhaps… they had some of those.

He reached into one of the packing cases that served as cupboards in their subterranean shelter and took out a couple of the orange root vegetables. They were hardly the freshest or nicest examples of their kind, but they'd work well enough in this meal.

Now… he needed to cut them up… he needed a knife… where were the knives… where were… were… was…

'Hey, Vash!'­

Rem turned to him, 'Vash?' she called, 'Vash, are you alright? You look a bit-'

'Knives,' muttered Vash, 'where… where…where's Knives?'

'To the side of you,' explained Rem, sounding a little puzzled 'where they usually are.'

'No… no… Knives. Where's Knives?' Vash was almost frantic now, his words coming out as desperate shrieks, 'Knives! I must find him! Knives he… he…'

Vash got no further than that, for suddenly the room around him span, the dark air pressed in against him, the dull, throbbing pain from his arm, which still hadn't receded completely, blossomed into full agony.

He gave a little sigh of shock and fell sideways, crashing to the floor in a boneless heap.

He could dimly hear Rem's screams ringing in his ears as darkness claimed him entirely.

E liHe lH

Readers Replies:

LeDiz: Yeah, I always finish whole stories before I post them. Hope this chapter satisfied, but don't worry, things are far from over yet. I don't know that you'd call Vash 'standard,' though. I mean, I find him much harder to write than Wolfwood, because although Wolfwood shares a lot in common with Vash, (he has the amazing capacity to be just as goofy, you know, and just as much of a rogue,) he's not as schizophrenic. I mean, Vash can be as manic as anything one second and absolutely angsty and depressed. No one, not even he, is entirely sure of what he's feeling and… AGUH! Wolfwood is nice and dark and fun, but I don't know I could describe what Vash is… Wow, that continued for a long time, I'll stop ranting now…

MidgetMinion: Thanks! I thought it was a cool narrative device because it allows me to reveal the story slowly, but with all the detail I need. We are getting to the more… interesting parts now. From this chapter on things are going to get very hectic…

Saraki: Hehe, I hope this update was soon enough for you! Please review again, it'll probably encourage me to post faster.

Mangaqueen13: I… don't think I really understood your review… but thanks anyway.

Ron The Future Weasel: Thanks! I was very happy with the money part too, because it seemed so Vashlike. The guy does have very sharp senses, after all, it seemed very… in keeping with the characters. I apologise for the constant teasing, but things are moving along now, as you can see. And I'm VERY glad the interactions are going well.

Ninja Chic: Nice to have a new reviewer, I hope I have you hooked too! What did you think of this chapter?

The Lazy Fairy: Actually I think I've seen Rock Candy Mountain used in another Trigun fic, but only in passing. I just think it's the perfect song for Vash, the kind of place he'd sing about often, you know? It's a sweet ol' thing. I'm glad you like this fic and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!

NEXT CHAPTER: It's back to the present and there's an important altercation in the bar.