Chapter 8

The gun fight had ended in the usual manner. A couple of men had been injured, a few more knocked unconscious but most had just peed their pants and run away. The bar, needless to say, was so much steaming wreckage.

Nicholas had returned with a doctor just as Vash had staggered out, the bleeding body or Rem (or whoever she was) limp in his arms.

From there they'd taken her to a hospital and the doctor had put her straight into surgery, pronouncing that is was impossible to tell at this stage how severe her injuries were.

Now the two men stood outside the semi crumbling building that served as the town's hospital. There was, surprisingly enough, a small waiting room inside but both had eschewed it, partly because neither of them had much fondness for hospitals and partly because they wouldn't let Wolfwood smoke.

The priest was puffing away even now, leaning casually against the white walls of the building whilst Vash casually threw stones out into the street, playing a game only he knew the rules to.

'Well,' sighed Wolfwood, 'so much for keeping a low profile.'

'Don't blame me,' whinged Vash, 'it's not my fault everyone's so tense around here… it must be the high liquor prices.'

Wolfwood grunted, shifting the smoking cigarette around to the other corner of his mouth, 'it was a good thing that you did back there,' he said at last, the words coming out somewhat uneasily. He wasn't used to praising Vash, especially to his face.

'Yeah well,' muttered Vash, smiling, 'it wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for anyone else.'

'True, but that woman isn't just anyone else, is she?'

Vash's smile faded, he threw another stone out into the street.

'Come on, Needle Noggin,' said Wolfwood, determined not to let this matter drop, 'spill it.'

'What?'

'Why you're so angry at that woman.'

'After what she did, don't you think I have a right to be a little upset?'

'Firstly, you're more than a little upset and secondly, the fact that you were angry at her doesn't bother me. The fact that you're still angry at her, the fact you haven't forgiven her, that's what bothers me.'

Vash scowled and turned away, glaring determinedly at the street, getting ready for what looked like a major pout and/or sulk session.

Wolfwood would be damned if he was going to let that happen.

'Listen up idiot,' he sighed, 'I don't pretend to know everything about you, but I do know you're haunted by your past, that much you showed when you tried to be Eriks. And if you haven't noticed, running away from your past doesn't help any.'

'This is nothing like that,' growled the gunslinger.

'Nope,' said Wolfwood, 'this is exactly like that, in fact, it's so similar that you're too afraid to realize it.'

Wolfwood paused to take a deep drag from his cigarette, 'Needle Noggin,' he continued at last, 'I don't much like preaching to people, despite my profession. So I'm only going to say this once and if it doesn't knock some sense into that thick skull of yours then it's not my problem. What that lady did, whoever she is, it weren't no worse than what you did as Eriks. You're angry she lied to you, well… I don't think she did. She's like you, she pretended because she was lost, alone, because she needed someone. She did what she thought was best for everyone and maybe she screwed up, but she didn't mean to hurt you. She's only human, we all make mistakes, and she's trying to move on from hers, to set it to rights. The only question is… are you going to hold her to those mistakes?'

'You don't understand,' muttered Vash, his eyes down cast, 'she pretended to be Rem… when I realized… it was like I lost her all over again… she defiled Rem's memory, one of the most precious things to me…'

'Yeah, well, Rem's dead,' sighed Wolfwood, leaning back, 'but that woman ain't. You've got a choice, Vash, you can walk away from this. But if you do then the memory will be dogging your heels for a long while, count on it.'

'So you're saying I should say sorry to her? How? How can I say that and mean it?'

'You don't need to mean it, so long as she believes it then she'll be happy, she'll forgive you. Then… well… maybe you can forgive yourself.'

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'I already told you, isn't my fault if your to dumb to work it out.'

Vash chuckled, 'you really are a pain in the butt, you know that? Why are you so bothered about this, anyway?'

Wolfwood's mouth twisted into his trade mark, crooked grin, 'just want to know if you'll forgive me when I shoot you in the back.'

For a moment Vash's face was utterly immobile, stunned. Nicholas's heart missed a beat. He couldn't… he couldn't… could he?

Then Vash grinned, 'don't be an idiot!' he laughed.

Wolfwood joined him in his chuckling, hoping it sounded sincere, 'so, what are you going to do?'

Vash was silent, he curled his arms about his raised knees and put his head in them, adopting a silent, pensive pose. Wolfwood left him to it, this was a decision he'd have to make himself.

A while later the hospital doors opened and the doctor stepped out, his hands still bloody from surgery.

'We've done what we can,' he said, 'the wound was clean but…' he sighed, 'that lady's led a tough life and it's taken its toll on her body. At this point we can only give her a fifty/fifty chance. She didn't have any identification on her, do you know where her family are? They should be contacted.'

Vash stood up, 'I'm family,' he said, 'well… kinda. Can I go in and see her?' he flashed his most charming smile.

The doctor looked at him shrewdly but nodded, 'fair enough,' he said, 'just don't worry her or ware her out, she needs all the rest she can get if she's going to survive.'

'Alright,' said Vash.

He nodded to Wolfwood as he turned to enter the building.

Nicholas nodded back, he understood, he'd wait.

Twenty five years ago… July…

'What do you mean… goodbye?' asked Rem, her eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling.

'I'm going,' replied Vash, trying to keep his own, churning emotions out of his voice, 'I'm leaving you.'

'Leaving,' she echoed hoarsely, 'but… but why? Did I do something wrong? What did I do wrong?'

'No… yes… I don't know!' said Vash wretchedly, 'I've been feeling something's wrong for… for ages. I don't know what's wrong but it's nagging at me and if I don't find out what it is, then I doubt that I'll ever be happy or comfortable here.'

'Am I wrong?' shrieked Rem desperately, 'do you want me to change? I will, at an instant, just tell me what to change!'

'I told you… I don't know…'

'Then how are you going to look for something you don't know? What the hell do you expect to find out there?'

Vash's mouth opened, but only silence came out. She had a point, how was he going to find out what was wrong by just walking?

'Please Vash,' Rem pleaded, 'there's nothing out there for you to find, you'll just end up half beaten to death again, if not dead! It's suicide!'

'Rem…'

'Vash, don't go, I couldn't stand it if you left again! Please, don't leave me!'

'I won't leave you alone! I promise, because I love you Rem!'

The world spun around him as the words reverberated inside his head. Everything was so confusing, contradicting; he didn't want to die but was this living? He liked the reality he was living, but was this reality? He didn't want to leave Rem, but was this Rem? What was right? What could he do?

It became too much and he fell to his knees, weeping.

'Rem…' he whispered between sobs, 'Rem… I don't know what to do… what should I do?'

In an instant she was besides him, was wrapped around him, held his fragile body in her gentle arms, 'shhh,' she murmured, 'it's alright, come home with me. I'll make it alright, I'll make it good… just stay with me, come home…'

Vash could only nod, unable to find the words to say between his gasped sobs.

She helped him to his feet and, still leaning upon her, they made their slow way back to the basement.

He kept his eyes to the ground, allowing Rem to be his world, his everything. Clinging to this single facet of his existence with all his might. She was right, she would make it right, she had to. Please… god, she had to make it right…

­­­­­Suddenly she gasped and he looked up seeing, though his tears, that someone was leaving their home!

A figure dressed in torn and dirty clothing was creeping out of the trapdoor, a large sack, undoubtedly filled with pilfered possessions, slung across his shoulder. The robber turned, also hearing Rem gasp, a look of horror spreading across his dirty, stubble covered face.

Rem let out a shrill scream, clutching Vash for support; at this the robber brought his hand to his side and took out a shot gun, aiming it squarely at them.

'Vash!' screamed Rem desperately, 'your gun! Get out your gun!'

Almost without thinking Vash did as he was told, he had been about to anyway; he unsheathed his silver colt which shone dully in the murky light.

The robber looked terrified; his gun shook in his hand.

'Stop him!' yelled Rem, now moving so that she was behind Vash, using him as a shield, 'stop him!'

Vash found he could do nothing though; his throat felt dry, his hand was sticky with sweat and also trembling a little. Some small part of his brain was whispering strange things, telling him where to shoot, how to take into account wind and movement. Whispering that he should dive to the left if the robber shot, telling him where to put his feet, how to adjust for recoil, how to keep his eye on his target.

The robber, finally loosing all nerve, yelped and turned tail, still holding onto his swag, he fled.

'Stop him!' cried Rem again, 'he's got our food! You've got to stop him!'

Shoot a man in the back but… but… that was…

Wrong.

Alive, he was alive and…

Wrong, he couldn't hurt when…

But Rem said…

Rem said…

'Shoot him! Shoot him!'

Rem…

No one has the right to take the life of another.

Rem…

Her hair straight, long, black as the night's sky. Eyes, beautiful, dark brown eyes set in milk chocolate skin. A delicate, button nose, a gentle, smiling mouth…

That was Rem.

He turned, unsteady on his feet, forgetting about the escaping miscreant, and looked at the woman behind him. Saw her black ringlets, her pail skin, and her large, blue eyes.

'Who…' the words wouldn't come to him, they felt sticky and bitter in his throat.

'Vash?' her voice was wrong too, not light and airy like Rem's but soft, sultry.

'Who are you?' he asked at last, his voice faint and unsure.

'I'm Rem… you're wife. I'm-'

'NO!' he was screaming now, yelling, this was what was wrong, what was so terribly wrong, 'NO! You're not Rem! You're not! You… you lied to me…'

Once again the last words were a whisper, he found himself stepping backwards, moving away from her as if she were some monster. This cruel, foul doppelganger, this pretender.

'You lied to me…' he whispered, his voice as high and light as a child's, tears rimming his eyes.

She just looked stunned, 'Vash…'

'You… you… you lied to me… you lied!'

Then he turned and, like the robber, ran.

She screamed after him of course, calling his name over and over again. But he ignored her, he couldn't even conceive of turning back, he had to get away from this, from all the lies. He was Vash, he knew that, but she wasn't Rem. It was lies, it had all been lies.

So he ran away from the wrecked city of July, away from that terrible woman, away from it all… and he would not return for twenty five years…

To Be Continued…

Reviewers Replies!

LeDiz: Good luck on the 'not feeling sorry for people,' angle! I've some cunning things up my sleve yet, girlie! Bwahaha!

ChibiSess: Often, in life, there is no one TOO blame. And we only ever see the world from one point of view, our own. So really, where the blame lies, if it lies with anyone, is purely up to you do decide…

Mangaqueen13: Thanks! I hope you liked this one too!

Ninja Chic: You antipation is over, was it worth it?

Saraki: It's good when a story comes together, isn't it? And don't worry, there's more to be revealed yet!

Stonehart: Thanks also! Did you like this chappie too?

NEXT TIME: The truth about Rem? Can Vash forgive her? Can he forgive himself?