He was the most precious child in the world, they always told him that. His parents loved him more than anything, and even at four years old, he could understand that, and that he was different. They all were.
"Mama, is dinner gonn'a be ready soon?" the little blonde boy asked as he tugged on his mother's dress. She smiled, ruffled his hair, and let him know that it was just going to be about ten more minutes.
It was when she was taking the rolls out of the oven that something came smashing through the dining room window, and a body crashed into the table, collapsing it under him. Blood was everywhere, and the little boy's mother screamed as she saw that it was her husband. He had been mauled, torn up as if by millions of knives all at once. And then, as if only to add to the horrible sight of it, it looked like he'd been blown through the window by a shotgun blast, tearing his chest open while his face was in a permanent expression of terror.
"Oh god, no!"
There was a laugh. A cold, hollow, and chilling laugh. The boy turned to see someone walking toward the window, and the first details that presented themselves were those inhumanly cold ice-blue eyes and that nearly white pale blonde hair. He raised his arm toward the boy's mother. "You are a blasphemy," he intoned while his arm began to reshape. Thousands...no, millions of knives were forming from his skin. "The attempt of humans trying to be us, and such is a sin beyond compare!"
"Mama!"
"Mama!"
Screaming as he jolted awake, Vash breathed heavily, sweat dripping down his face. His screams had woken up Annette and Nick, leading them to stare in shock while he had woken up from the horrible memory. His breathing finally slowed as he purged the images from his mind, but it had done enough. Now they were watching him to make sure he was going to be alright. The sun wasn't even up yet.
"Are you okay?" Annette asked while feeling his head. "You were screaming in your sleep."
He breathed in, then slowly nodded, now laying back down to try and go back to sleep. "Just a nightmare," Vash replied. He didn't want to tell them that they were horrible memories of what had happened to him years ago, what had made him into the person he was now. That was the reason he'd been so traumatized by Frank's death; it was like watching all that again. "I'll be fine, just need some sleep." Please don't ask about what I was saying...
Fortunately for Vash, the two decided to let him be for now and went back to sleep. They were out pretty quickly...damn, did Nick snore! It was like a train going by at full speed! It was going to be a while before he fell asleep again. Maybe that was for the better. He didn't want to be seeing his past again, because every time he did, he lost all awareness and went nuts. The last time it had happened, he'd woken up to find that half the rock formations where he'd been sleeping were gone. Not something he wanted to happen around people.
Why now, though? Maybe it had to do with how Frank had died. Seeing him maimed like that was bad enough, but it was too similar to how they had died. That was why he did this, taking the real Vash's place out here in the world. He wanted to find the man who had slaughtered they people who loved him, leaving him, a four year old child, as all that remained of his kind. Millions Knives, a person who tried to be God, and presumed to act like he was God. Knives was the one person that he was willing to break his code for, to prevent him from doing such a thing ever again.
But then that voice in the back of his head reminded him to think about if it was worth it. To kill a man for revenge, was it worth becoming what you fought against? Would he be any better than Knives? It was something he couldn't understand yet. He wasn't even two decades old, how could he expect to understand that kind of moral dilemma? He barely understood what was wrong with him. Then again, not many people on Gunsmoke understood his problems.
Some mental condition that made his state of mind flux. One minute, he could be perfectly calm, and the next, either raging with anger or breaking down in tears. The doctor at the ship had called it...something to do with a couple of poles. The hell if he could remember what it was called, all that mattered was that it caused him problems, and being someone of his kind meant you generally had mental problems like it.
Someone like Knives though, the number of problems that man had could fill entire books. Homicidal, genocidal, a massive god-complex about the size of the planet they lived on, and an obsession with the 'purity of his race'. Like he cared about that. All that mattered to Vash was making sure that, one way or another, Knives was out of commission for good.
He finally managed to block out Nick's freight train snores, and after about twenty more minutes, Vash was sound asleep again, but the horrible memories would not leave him alone. By the time he woke up, Vash was not going to be a happy camper at all.
If there was ever a time he wished he could just blow away the pain with his guns, now was it. Vash was holding his head as he dealt with the massive headache he was suffering from. He hadn't even been getting drunk last night. "God, what I wouldn't give for a painkiller the size of a moon for this god damn migraine."
"We'll be in town soon enough," Nick replied, Cross Punisher on his shoulder. "You should be able to get something there." And as he heard Vash's stomach growl, Nick gave a sympathetic grin. "And something to eat, no less. You got a dog in there or something?"
A snort as he tapped to the side of his sunglasses. Full light filter, much better. "I've got an insane metabolism, Mister Thompson. The upside is that I tend to stay in good shape, I'm fast, have quick reflexes, and I rarely get any thing more than allergies. The downside is that it eats up my energy like nobody's business." A laugh while his stomach growled again. "I have to eat a lot in order to keep up."
About an hour later, they walked into town, and were now sitting in a diner. Nick was eating a steak, Annette was having Alfredo chicken, and Vash had about four different entrees piled before him; Salisbury steak, pork chops, potatoes, plate of vegetables, a large bowl of clam chowder, and a salad. It looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks to anyone looking at him.
"Is there any chance that I might inquire," Nick began while they watched Vash gobble down the steak in a matter of minutes. "Would you be willing to tell us a bit more about why you do this?" Those sky blue eyes looked at him to clarify the question. Interesting person this young man was. "Why are you taking Vash's place out here? Assume his name, take on his burden...what do you expect to get out of it?"
Vash finally paused and downed a glass of water while he thought on how to answer. "You still don't quite trust me," he intoned. Yes, that was obvious on Nick's face. He was trying to figure Vash out, determine his reasons for everything. "I'm not very comfortable telling you about how Vash came to raise me." A pause while he started munching on some ice. "But, he did raise me like a son, and I suppose giving him the chance to live his life in peace is my way of thanking him." And he resumed eating, diving into his salad, which was gone within a matter of minutes.
"But, as you're thinking," he continued after wiping some dressing from his mouth, "it's not that simple. There's something else, a pattern to where I've been going." Nick was nodding, just as Vash had surmised he would. "Yes, I have a goal, and it deals with some old friends of our predecessors."
There. His suspicions had been confirmed. "You're after the Gung-Ho Guns," Nick replied while popping a piece of his own steak into his mouth. A moment after he'd swallowed, his fork came up to point to the Humanoid Typhoon. "I'd heard about the incident in June a few months back, but I didn't want to believe they'd really returned. After Legato was killed twenty years ago-"
A flash of pain in Vash's eyes. Something was wrong. When Nick set down his fork, the young blonde finally sighed and shook his head. "Legato's not dead," he stated in a tone of voice that held a good amount of fear in it. "As much as I wish so, that man in the bar wasn't lying. I would have felt it if he was, Legato's still alive somehow."
"That's impossible." Nick growled and patted his coat for his pack of cigarettes, then pulled one out and lit up to take a drag for a moment. "Legato is the only man your Old Man ever killed, and I know for a fact that he could not have survived having his head blow open by that gun you've got."
Now the boy flinched. He truly looked horrified to have that part of Legato's death confirmed. How could he not know about that event? Had the original Vash not told him? That was the only explanation for the boy's reaction, but still, he should have some idea of what happened.
"Who is Legato exactly?" Annette said, finally pushing herself into the conversation. "Vash told me that he was the leader of the Gung-Ho Guns twenty years ago, but other than that-"
"Legato Bluesummers was a maniac." There was a hard expression on Nick's face as he inhaled from his cigarette, then blew the smoke out through his nostrils. "He was a ruthless killer, just as bad as Knives, and he forced the original Vash into a situation where he had no choice but to kill him."
The boy wasn't saying a word as he just sat there. He didn't even move, but looked to be in complete shock. He hadn't heard any of this. Why hadn't he been told the truth about what happened? Yes, he knew that his predecessor had killed Legato, but he'd never been told the situation, how he'd killed him. Would he have to follow in that path as well? If he truly intended to break his promise when he finally faced Knives, there was no doubt about that, but, that was his anger, his rage, everything that made him nearly a monster talking. Deep down, Vash didn't know if he'd really be able to kill a man, let alone the man who had slaughtered...
Did he want to risk becoming the very thing he was hunting? Would that be the price of exacting justice, to become what he hated? Vash wasn't sure now if he could do what he had been planning for the last several years. He wasn't sure if he really wanted too, as much as he'd played it over again and again in his head.
"Legato's not dead," he again said. There was no doubt in his eyes now, and Nick could see Vash believed it. "Somehow, he survived and is still trying to ruin my life, if he thinks I'm the same Vash. If not..."
A nod. "If not," Nick added as he finished off his cigarette and pushed it into the ashtray. "He sure as hell knows you're connected to the Vash he knew. If he is alive, it had to be him and his gang watching from outside of Ramon about a week ago, when that maniac tore through." That was interesting. Vash hadn't figured out that he'd been searching and watching himself for a while now. "I saw about three people outside the town in the mountains. They were talking about you, kid, which leads me to believe that in some capacity, they're still serving the Gung-Ho Guns." A pause as he fished out another cigarette and wedged it between his lips before lighting up again. "I didn't like the look of it, so I just kept my eyes open, but I have a feeling that they had some connection to Legato."
That confirmed it then; Legato was following him. That meant that the psychopath had been sent by the former leader of the Gung-Ho Guns with orders to draw him, Vash, out into the open. It had worked alright, but some how, Vash didn't think that Legato expected his man to be shot by Annette. Hell, he had never even found out who that vulture-like man had been other than an agent of Legato. But it did mean that there were more of them, and no doubt, Legato would send more after him.
Which now left quite a problem on their hands. There was little doubt that Legato would soon send another of his people to attack, and they would not have the luck they had last time. Vash knew he could count on Annette, despite how much he was still sore over how she'd been forced to kill that man, but Nicholas Thompson... Well, if he was anything like his father, he probably was reliable. But to who was the question.
"I don't blame you for suspecting me," Nick remarked while finishing his meal and setting down the silverware. He looked up at Vash, noting that the boy was rather much holding a stonic expression now. "After all, I came in looking for you, and you're not sure what my full reasons are." He smiled, drank down his water, then sighed as set the glass back on the table. "Well, you were honest with me, so I should be honest with you. To put your mind at ease, no, I'm not with the Gung-Ho Guns in any form. I'm actually here because of my mother." Another pause. How to explain this, that was the tricky part. "My mother wanted me to check out all the stuff going on with your name attached to it. She's concerned about your Old Man, kid. I have a feeling she knows about you, but she didn't tell me anything about Vash having a prodigal son, so I assumed you were the real deal."
There was a slow nod. Nick wasn't lying, nor was he trying to hide something. Vash decided that for once, his paranoia was just that and let it rest. "Yeah, Milly knows about me, and so does Meryl, that's why I wish I had stuck around in Dankin." He glanced to Annette and noted the perplexed look on her face. "You know, you're pretty cute when you make that face," he noted before now gobbling down his pork chops. "Mind you, you're pretty cute regardless of the face you make, even when you're angry."
Nick couldn't help but laugh. "You definitely have Vash's penchant for flirting, though you're a hell of a better sweet talker than him."
"Thank you." Vash grinned while gulping down the last of his pork, then noted that Annette was glaring at him. "What? I'm telling the truth. I think you're a cute lady no matter what. Is it so wrong for me to be honest?"
On the one hand, he had done nothing more than display a genuine affection for her. Buying her dinner, paying for her bus fare, and other small things even when she insisted on handling it herself. On the other hand, his predecessor was infamous for being the worst kind of womanizer, and this Vash might be the same way. But, he had only focused his attentions on her, as opposed to going after anything with two legs and a pair of breasts. And she did look rather young for her age, so she was told. Twenty-five years old, and she still looked like a teenager. But still, she wasn't that pretty...was she?
"You are that pretty." Vash started spooning his clam chowder while both Annette and Nick looked at him in shock. "I can see it on your face, you don't think you're that beautiful." He set down the spoon in the bowl, then gave what was probably the cockiest grin she'd seen on his face. "I assure you, Miss Annette, you are. Pretty as a spring rose after the rain fall, and I'm not just being nice. In my opinion, it's the honest to God truth."
Now her face was starting to go red. No one had ever complimented her like that before. Underhanded this kid was not, but the skies be damned if he wasn't hitting on her. How could he have gotten such a sugary tongue like that? He'd been raised by Vash the Stampede, he should have had the worst sense of tact if the rumors were true. Yet, he was a hell of a sweet talker. Maybe letting him go on wouldn't be that bad. Her imagination was certainly running away off the tracks. Hm, a candlelight dinner with the Humanoid Typhoon. She could see it now, her and Vash sitting down for dinner. Maybe that nice fancy restaurant back on Florentine that her father had taken her to when she'd graduated the academy, with the fountains and the dance floor. Hell, maybe he'd even actually be able to dance, unlike her last two boyfriends. Gliding across the dance floor while the band played, one hand holding hers while the other rested gently on her hip, lips slowly moving towards hers...
"Ack!"
The two men blinked as she snapped out of her daydream. "Something wrong?" Vash asked as he finished up his soup.
No, he couldn't know what she'd just been fantasizing about. Hell, she couldn't believe she'd been imagining that, let alone think it up. "It's nothing," she quickly exclaimed while her face was going bright red from embarrassment. Easy, Annie, she said to herself, trying to force down the blushing. You've had lousy luck with men. Better not to get involved with him like that.
There was something in the waiter's hand as he came over with the bill. "A message for you sir," he said, handing Vash a large white envelope. "A man dropped it by and asked me to deliver it to you."
He nodded, opening the letter and reading it carefully while out the money for his meal. He and Annette had had a bit of a fight over that, since she told him that he was not to pay for her food any more because he was going to run out of money for himself if he kept treating her. Nick, on the other hand, had not been an issue, since he had only recently joined them, and did not fall under the category of "irresistibly cute girl". After the threat of taking him to the feds for the reward, Annette had convinced Vash to pay only for himself this time.
Right now, however, his attention was on the letter. His eyes went cold as he read it, knowing that his fears had been right, and that something was going to happen very soon to get his attention. "We have to go," he said while setting his part of the bill on the table. As his companions gave him confused expressions, he gestured for them to put their part in before they get out of the diner. The letter was still in his hand, but even now was becoming crumbled while he led the way through town.
"Vash!" Annette cried as they made their way toward the edge of the town. "Vash, what's wrong? What did that letter say?"
He didn't answer right away. Vash quickly slipped his sunglasses on and tapped a button on the side to activate one of the various scanning mode in the lenses. "One of them is here," he replied at last after a few moments. "Not Legato's, one of Knives' Gung-Ho Guns. It's human, so that means it's the guy with the dolls." Dear god, did he remember that psychopath.
"Dolls?" Nick raised a brow in response to that point. "How dangerous can a guy with dolls be?"
With his left hand unbuttoning the cuff, Vash pulled up the sleeves of his coat and body suit to show the barely fading scars along his arm. "It's some weird mysticism called Voodoo," he stated coldly before pulling the sleeves back down. "He does something to the doll, and the wound and pain hit the person it's made to resemble. Freak cut me up like hell back in June before I managed to get the damn doll of me out of his hands and run like hell." He paused, threw down the letter, then drew out both of his guns while his head tilted to the side. That was enough for his companions to bring their own weapons out. "He's here."
There wasn't a sound. Everything got disturbingly calm, and then, Vash was suddenly sent flying back between Nick and Annette. He hit the ground, guns dropping from his hands, and he groaned as he carefully got back to his feet. "Son of a..." The blonde boy winced from the pain that was in his chest now. That had been a solid hit, and he hadn't been at all expecting it. "That is what he can do with the damn voodoo doll."
Even as he picked up his weapons, Vash jerked around as if he'd been punched hard in the face, then doubled over before snapping back in reaction to an invisible uppercut. Both Nick and Annette were looking around, weapons ready, but there was no sign of whoever it was that was attacking Vash.
And then, there was that laugh. "We meet again, Vash the Stampede!" came the voice. It seemed to be sourcing in all directions, making it impossible for them to determine where it was really coming from. "You evaded us in June City, but not here!"
A large spat of spit and blood to the ground, and Vash rose to his feet. "Nice to hear you too, Tremil," he hissed while gripping his guns. The scanning equipment in his sunglasses was useless here, since his target was human. However, he had other ways of tracking his foe. "Knives still not giving up his 'holy crusade'! You do know that you'll be included in the corpses once you out live your usefulness to him!"
"But that is a long way off, dear boy!" Whoever the owner of that voice was, he certainly had a very sophisticated tone to how he sounded. This was going to be interesting. "Lord Knives still has much use for me, and I intended to be of use after we kill you!"
He started running off calculations in his head, trying to narrow down where Tremil really was. If he could just stall before he was...
"Ah!" Vash screamed out, dropping his guns and grabbing his left arm while a sharp pain stabbed through his muscles. It was right in the center of the bicep, where he knew that the original Vash had lost his own left arm. "Son of a bitch!"
The Cross Punisher rose up and was held in position to fire while the long shaft of the cross snapped open to reveal a machine gun barrel. Nick was looking about, trying to find their target, but so far, this Tremil was rather good at hiding. "Where the hell is he!" the man snapped angrily.
Vash winced as the worst of the pain ended, but it still felt like his left arm was on fire. "God damn, I hate it when he does that!" the boy roared. Another stabbing pain shot through his chest. It was like being impaled on a sword, blade driven through his lungs, and he couldn't breathe. If he didn't stop this soon, he was going to be killed. "Where is he?" Vash whispered, now closing his eyes and trying to focus past the pain. His mind wandered about, trying to find the mind of Tremil, trying to find where he was.
Another sharp stabbing sensation forced him to the ground. Vash was crying out, but his mind stayed on its task, reaching out to feel the person he was seeking to find...there! That's where he was! His right hand grabbed the silver automatic, fighting against the anguish as he struggled to aim. Vash narrowed one eye as he saw what he was looking for, then pulled the trigger and let loose the shell.
A moment later, there was a scream, and Vash was able to breathe again. Noise came from the direction in which he'd fired, the sound of someone racing to escape. He took a deep breath while Nick and Annette helped him up, picking his black auto from the ground and slipping both weapons into their holster. "I only got his hand," he stated after a moment. "He'll be back after reporting to Knives." The boy frowned now, however. "He did what he was sent to do, however. Knives it watching for me, and now I know it." His gaze flicked to Annette. Even with those mirror lenses, she could see that it was a gaze of concern. "You're better off staying away from me, Annie. Like I said before, I'm a dangerous man to be around."
"My job is to solve the mystery around Vash the Stampede," she replied while twirling her Eagles and holstering them. "Gung-Ho Guns or not, I have my job to do, and figuring you out is it, Vash." Annette smiled now, glancing to Nick who was shutting down his own weapon. "Besides, you've got us to help you."
A glance to Nick, and the older man nodded to the blonde boy. He was in, no question. "I figure I might as well stick around, give Knives some pay back for killing my father." There was that smug grin again as he pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. "Besides, you might not be so lucky the next time they show up. Best to have friends to back you up."
Well, Nicholas Thompson was proving to be a very interesting ally. He looked like his father, carried that infamous Cross Punisher, yet had the same goal as Vash; to bring justice to Knives for his horrible crimes. Maybe the three of them did have a chance if they stuck together. Annette was definitely someone he'd come to count on. Even if he didn't like the methods, she had already saved his life once, and she was someone he would like to know better anyway.
"Alright," he finally said, not turning to head out of the city. "But, don't say I didn't warn you two. We're going to be heading into the mouth of Hell by the time this is done, and we're going to need the grace of God Himself to bring Knives to true justice."
His Punisher gave a clang as he hefted it up by the straps. "Well then," Nick remarked as he took one last drag and flicked the cigarette to the ground. "What say we praise the Lord and start kicking some ass in his divine name?"
Yeah, Nick definitely took after his father. Now to hope that he didn't suffer his father's fate. Vash was going to be needing all the help he could get once he went after the Gung-Ho Guns, and thusly, Millions Knives himself. This was going to be one hell of a long journey.
