Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the positive feedback! I know this isn't the most interesting of stories, but I'm glad you have stuck with it this far. I really do wish I could write more interestingly. I need to give more details or describe things better, I think. But it's hard! And I'm not sure, but I might be too afraid of making people OOC that I make them personality-less. What do you think? I also saw some format errors. I put separators in when I changed scenes, but this site took those out (tell me if it's hard to read, now). They're really starting to frustrate me… Rant on. Also, they changed my Review History to view only the last 100 reviews. I don't know about you, but I like to keep track of all the stories I review. Definitely more than 100. And lately, my Review History has been disabled completely! Having Review History is one of the most important abilities to me, on this site. If this keeps up, they will most likely be getting an e-mail of discontent from me…if I could find their e-mail address! Raargh! Rant off. Oh yes, and tell me if I get the years wrong.

Chapter Four

Year 95

The hotel room Vash now resided in was small and a bit cramped, but that didn't matter much. He would probably be leaving, soon. Ever since the Bernardelli Insurance Society put a $$60 billion bounty on his head five months ago, all kinds of bounty hunters had been tracking him down.

'Hey, maybe they'll take a break for Christmas,' he thought hopefully, with a sheepish grin.

He glanced at the present on the table he just wrapped, and his smile faded. He had a bad feeling about Knives. Vash could remember so little of the July incident that happened less than six months ago, but he did feel that both he and Knives were a major part of it. He had no idea what happened to Knives afterward. But whenever he thought about it, a dark feeling would rise within him, as if he should remember something terrible, something severe. Worry had crept into his mind. He was pretty sure that, despite whatever happened that day in July and whatever Knives had done in the past, Vash didn't want his brother to die. The spiky blonde gently set the package as well as milk and cookies outside the door of his room. How Knives actually found out where Vash was and received the gift, Vash never knew, but not a single year had Knives failed in exchanging gifts. Vash willed the uneasiness away as he changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed.

Vash blinked awake as the rising sun reached his eyelids. He got up and walked to the front door. Slowly, he opened the door, almost afraid to see the outcome. As the door opened fully, his heart sank. In the hallway, everything lay untouched. There was no sign that anyone had been there. He felt overwhelmed by anxiety and… guilt? Why did he feel guilty? Had he done something to cause this? He dismally took everything back inside and sat down heavily in a chair at the table. Laying an elbow on the table, he rested his forehead in his palm. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes.

"This is so wrong…" he whispered to himself, "Everything is so wrong. Why did all of this have to happen?"

Vash was brought out of his thoughts when he heard loud voices downstairs.

"Where is Vash the Stampede?" a deep gruff voice hollered, "I know he's here somewhere, so you better tell me!"

Vash cursed and swiftly began packing up his few belongings. "Why can't they ever just leave me alone?!" he wailed in frustration.

He didn't even have time to change out of his pajamas as he opened his window, preparing to jump out. He eased himself out the window and fell a story to the ground, rolling to ease the impact. People stared at him strangely as he ran down the street, barefoot. Finally he reached the edge of the town. Quickly pulling on his boots to keep his feet from burning on the sand, the plant walked out into the desert. Vash tried not to think about anything as he journeyed to find the next city that would accept him for a while.

Year 97

Vash woke up late that Christmas morning. That day was now no more important than any other day of the year. He had ceased setting out presents for Knives, since there was no point. Vash hadn't heard anything from Knives since the destruction of July city about two and a half years ago. He figured the only realistic choice was to assume his twin had died. And it broke his heart. He couldn't count the number of times he'd cried over his brother.

The gentle outlaw tiredly pushed his feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. He hadn't slept very well last night. It was a shame, too. He may not get a chance to rest in such a comfortable hotel room as this for another long while. Yawning, he stood up and trudged to the table to eat from the box of the doughnuts he bought yesterday. As he glanced at the table, he froze. On it's surface were not one, but three wrapped packages. Too afraid to get his hopes up only to be dashed, the plant cautiously and slowly read the cards on each gift.

He couldn't believe it!

'To: Vash

From: Santa Clause,' on each one.

"Knives…" Vash said in a choked whisper.

Happy tears spilled from his eyes. His brother was alive! It was indescribable how heavy a burden was just lifted from his spirit. After a few moments to compose himself, Vash turned his attention back to the presents. He noticed that each one was dated. One for this year, one for last year, and one for the year before last; the year of the July incident. He now thought he understood. Knives must not have been able to send him anything, for some reason or another, so he sent two more gifts this year to make up for it.

Vash genuinely smiled as he opened the first gift, marked the year before last. The smile straightened as he pulled the gift from its box. It was his silver gun, the one that Knives made. The golden blonde remembered very vaguely that he had dropped it back in July. Since then, he had been using the gun installed into his mechanical arm. He didn't know quite what to think. He supposed it was better off in his own hands than his brother's and assumed Knives meant well when he sent it to Vash. Neutrally, he moved on to the next present.

Removing the wrapping, he lifted off the lid to the somewhat flat box. He gasped as he saw what was inside. He stared at it, eyes wide.

"How did he get this?!," he asked himself unbelievingly, "How could he possibly have had this?"

In the box was a photograph encased in a simple frame. It was a picture of the twins as young boys sitting with Rem in the Rec. Room and smiling enthusiastically at the camera. Vash still remembered the time that picture was taken all those years ago. Mary had offered to take it one day while they were eating lunch. It had taken a few tries to get it right, since on the first try, Vash had PB&J on his face, and the second try, Knives blinked, and the third time, Rem was about to sneeze. Vash chuckled at the fond memory.

As he moved on to the last present, Vash wondered how in the world Knives' final gift could top the last gift that Vash opened. But after all the surprises the gunman already received today, he was prepared for just about anything. Anything but what was in the box. In his hand lay a dome of glass. Inside the dome, was a tiny house with a sleigh and reindeer perched on top of it.

'It couldn't possibly be the same one,' he told himself, but flipped it over to see the bottom, just to satisfy his curiosity.

'Vash

Project SEEDS,' was written on the bottom.

It was the same one! Vash had to have still been dreaming. There was no way it could truly be happening. It was too good to be true. Vash knew any moment now, he would wake up and be crestfallen to find that none of this actually happened. Apprehensively, he reached over with his mechanical arm and pinched his other arm.

"Ow…" he murmured from the dull pain. Realization hit him, "…that means..."

Again, his vision blurred from joyful tears.

"Thank you so much, brother," he whispered even though he was sure Knives couldn't hear him, "This means everything to me."

Vash leaned back in his chair. In all his ninety-seven years of living, this had to be one of the best Christmases ever.

He contentedly pulled his doughnut box toward him and began to eat his breakfast while admiring his gifts.

Author's Notes: Okay, my brain just died. Year 97 took SOO long for me to finish. I hope it was satisfying and not boring. I also hope that Vash wasn't OOC or that anything was too farfetched. It just wouldn't cooperate very well with me. I didn't think it would be that long, either. Reviews are precious to me, so tell me what you think. Kay, I just tried everything within my power to get this site to let me use dividers, but alas, this story must remain dividerless. I am so glad to be done with this chapter, because it took me forever to think of how to phrase things. In other words, Year 97 was 1 inspiration and 99 perspiration. Excuse me while I recharge my brain with mindless activities.