The Usual Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, Meryl, Milly, Wolfwood, Rem, Knives, or Vash, as much as I wish I owned one particular character. . . .Oh, well. I can dream, can't I?

Glory

Chapter Five: Family Reunion

Glory muttered angrily to herself as she laid on the roof she'd claimed. Vash was really getting to her. It wasn't just that she wasn't good with plans, or that he was her brother, or even that he knew nothing of their bond. It seemed to be more like his plant powers getting the better of him and leading his instincts to be suspicious of her.

And what was worse, she kept slipping. One slip up wasn't too bad, two could be overlooked, and three she might be able to cover up, but Vash was no fool. He never was. He knew there was a large something that she was hiding - and that she was hiding it from him particularly. He'd probably known from the very beginning.

She was getting weaker, as well. She wanted to respond to him, to just blurt out why she was here and all the secrets she'd been keeping. Especially the large one about Rem. He needed to know about that one, and she was keeping it from him like that'll help any! But she couldn't tell him. Nobody who knew of Rem was alive anymore; Knives had seen to that personally. If she just began talking about Rem, out of nowhere, she'd have to tell Vash everything.

She sat up sharply, wincing both in pain and at her own stupidity. She rubbed her back where the chain had been pressed into her skin and shook her head. More or less, her part in this story was over and she could get rid of it, tell Vash and watch as he and Meryl begin writing a new book, so to speak.

Knives. She'd nearly forgotten about him being injured and living with Vash and those two women. She had no idea why she thought of him now. It was almost one of her mothers' orders, forcing her to remember him and think about him.

Knives really wasn't a bad person. She'd known that from the beginning. But Knives had let Steven rule his life. And what was worse, he probably didn't even realize it. He'd let a man hardly worth the title of "human" to determine his course in life. A human who was frightened by anything different and who - by all logic - shouldn't have been awake on that ship. Anyone who goes into space should know of and understand that there are aliens out there, and yet Steven couldn't seem to deal with it.

And now Knives was a homicidal maniac. Because of one man who couldn't grasp the fact that aliens were everywhere and that some of them were smarter than humans, Knives had damned the entire human population.

All he really needed was a turn in the right direction, though.

Glory sighed and stood up. Just what could you call a "turn in the right direction" when it came to Knives? Knives, the plant who believes humans destroy everything they come in contact with, that humans needed to die, and who had believed this for a hundred and thirty years. Knives, who killed Rem's only living relative, shot off Vash's arm, gave it to Legato, raised eleven more Gung ho Guns, and declared war on his twin brother?

There didn't seem to be any direction to turn him. The only thing Glory could ever do for him would be to tell him what she had learned, but that had to wait until she could tell Vash.

Suddenly everything felt very complicated.

Sighing again, Glory picked up her boomerang and leapt off the roof, headed for the outskirts of the town. She walked at a slow pace, and kept going until the city was only just within a human's sight. She needed distance from the town if she wanted to practice.

Taking a breath to steady her mind and body, she waited a moment and lunged forward, taking two steps before throwing her boomerang as hard as she could away from the town. It soared up high and went nearly out of her field of vision before turning around. Eyes on the curve it was taking she moved, sidestepping and moving backwards as she put herself in the path. At the last moment she reached up and caught the sash that was wrapped around either end, spinning halfway and crouching to absorb the impact.

She hardly waited a second before spinning back up and throwing it again, at another angle. Following the path again she caught it, this time only twisting and not crouching. She threw it a third time, higher this time, and had to jog back to get back into its path.

She continued this, catching and throwing and putting control into her arm, trying almost vainly to control the exact angles of the giant bone boomerang. The sun was set when she finally stopped, sweating and panting, and fell to her knees, her hands and arms aching. As always she practiced with both arms, though her left arm was half as efficient as her right. Both her palms were throbbing and begging to not be used again.

Wincing at the pain, she set down the boomerang and took off her gloves, closely inspecting her palms. They were red, but that seemed to be it. Her palms were heavily scarred from all the time she'd spent throwing and catching when she first thought of it. It had left her hands without the wrinkles a normal humanoid would have, and without whole fingerprints. And just now it stung, telling her how hard she'd pushed herself.

But practicing always got her thoughts in order, and she was pretty sure she had a way of getting everything done right.

"Is that what happens when you practice too much?" a voice said from behind her, although she'd already jumped up by the second word.

She knew who it was by the voice, but her body was moving instinctively, making her spin and hold up a defensive pose. She sighed, relaxing her body and allowing herself to continue panting until she got her breath back. "Vash," she sighed. "God, you scared me," she added, looking at him. "Don't sneak up on me."

"Well, I thought you'd hear me coming up," he said.

He's testing me, she thought. "Well, usually I do, but I was distracted this time."

"Ah." He tilted his head slightly. "I've been looking for you," he admitted. "I was going to ask you to join us for dinner, and share your theories with us."

He is testing me, Glory thought, straightening. He's waiting for me to reveal myself. "I don't see why not," she said as though it meant nothing to her. "Sure, I'll join. But I have to get my boomerang up safe and - oh, damn," she said while snapping her fingers.

"What?"

"I don't have anything else to wear, other than what I've got." She made an apologetic gesture with her hands but Vash just waved his hands back.

"It doesn't matter. We're not going out anywhere."

"Oh, good." After a moment she added, "Are you going to tell me when and where or do I have to go house-to-house?"

He laughed but told her, and Glory waved him off.

"Tonight, then," she whispered. "Congratulations, Vash. You've made a move. That's two points now." She was smiling as she put her gloves back on and got ready to go to dinner at Vash's house.

~*~ Later ~*~

Glory waited patiently outside the house until the door opened, revealing Milly, cherry as ever. She practically sang as she invited Glory to come in and take a seat, and was very nearly dancing as she left the room, calling for Vash and Meryl. Glory sat down on the couch and sighed, glad to feel softness for once. She rarely received such a pleasure. She was entirely too used to hard, cold, stone or concrete surfaces.

It didn't last long. Soon Meryl and Milly showed up again, and finished setting up the dinner table as Vash came into view, pushing an immobile Knives in a wheelchair. Glory tried to get up, but found it took two tries to get herself convinced that she had to get up. Vash laughed at her efforts and began introductions.

"That's Milly, with the brown hair," he said, nodding at the kitchen. Milly paused to wave.

"The giant of a woman?" Glory asked.

He laughed again. "Yeah, but you're more of a giant."

"Sit down and rotate," she sneered back at his expression.

She got him. His expression went blank as he thought of that one, obviously having never heard it before. After a while he shook his head. "I'll just say 'no thanks' to that one."

"Clever," Glory said back.

"And this is Knives," he added, gesturing at the lump still unmoving in the chair.

"What is he, paralyzed?" she asked, crouching and looking at him.

She received an extremely cold and malicious glare from Knives as Vash replied. "For the time being. He's got four gunshot wounds, in his shoulders and thighs."

Glory whistled. "Is he one of the victims or did he deserve it?" she asked as she stood up again.

Vash seemed to not be able to respond to that. "A little of both," he finally admitted.

"He deserved it!" Meryl said from the kitchen.

"Dinner's done! Come and get it!" Milly caroled.

Glory grinned and winked at Knives, who was glaring up at her. Tell Vash anything you learn about me and you're going out the window, she told him. She caught him blink, surprised if not stunned that she could use thoughts as a means to communicate, and at what she knew he could feel inside of her. In no time he'd come to the conclusion that she was a plant, like him, but more shocks lay ahead and now it was dinner time.

She sat down where instructed and chatted as she ate, as did everybody. The women grew comfortable fast with her, with the jokes Glory kept spouting and fast comebacks. It felt like any household meal, the typical clichéd family feast for the typical clichéd family. Afterwards Vash ushered Knives back to his room, and the girls went to theirs to get ready for bed.

Vash got a bit of a surprise when he came back out. Glory was lying half-on, half-off the couch. Her left leg was over the arm from the knee down, her right arm and leg were hanging limply off the cushions, and her left was arm was thrown over her chest. She was half-asleep already, loving the softness of the couch much more than sand, concrete or stone. All three of which she was used to by now.

"Glory?" Vash asked, softly, trying not to wake her if she'd fallen asleep.

Glory's eyes snapped open and she blinked a few times before sitting up. "Oh, Vash," she said. She glanced at the couch and found herself blushing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just. . .flop over like that." A laugh escaped her throat.

"Well, if you're tired," Vash reasoned, "you can stay here for the night. We probably won't be able to feed you in the morning, but -"

"No, it's no problem," she interrupted, standing. "It's just been a while since I've slept anywhere soft. I normally don't get the chance." She stood up. "Besides, I've got to check on my charge again. But I'll see you tomorrow, most likely, so don't be surprised if I tackle you," she added with a wink.

Vash laughed, too, and - believe it or not - escorted her outside. He waved her off and shut the door when she rounded a corner. Sighing, he leaned against the door and let his mind drift. That woman was the oddest person he'd met. Every time he convinced himself there was nothing out of the ordinary about her, she did or said something to make him think otherwise. And every time he told himself that she was potentially dangerous, and secretive, she did or said something to disprove him again. He'd never been so confused before.

If Glory were acting, then she was a wonderful actress with a skill that could win her anything she desired. If not, then she was insane to an extent, or possibly disturbed. She seemed nice enough, being friendly and acting as though nothing in the world could sour her mood, and not taking anything or anyone - most of all herself - too seriously.

She never pushed too far with her questioning, never went too far with her jokes, never insulted someone beyond the normal boundaries of friendship. But as well, she never answered certain questions to the full extent, avoided direct questions, and kept a certain mental and physical distance between herself and others.

Of course, if he thought about it in another perspective, he could see that one might think the same of himself, but he had a strong, legitimate reason for keeping a distance. Thinking along those lines, it just might be that Glory was a plant, such as himself. The only problem was that she didn't feel like a plant, or more pointedly, she didn't feel like Knives or the plants in bulbs he'd met. On top of that, none of the plants he met ever mentioned Glory or anyone like her. Still, it was possible that Glory asked them not to say anything, if purely for her own protection. Who knows what would have happened if she were a plant and Knives had learned of her.

But Knives hadn't said anything about Glory, verbally or mentally. There wasn't a notion in his mind all night about feeling anything odd about Glory. But again, there could be another side to that story. Knives could very easily be biding his time or developing another plan, one that involved Glory and as such kept Vash far enough out of his mind that he wouldn't sense any thoughts that concerned Glory.

Or maybe Vash were simply putting too much thought into this, over reading the situation. Glory might be, by all standards, just another human living out their life on this planet. But that would make Glory an extraordinary human. She said, herself, that she was protecting somebody, somebody who she couldn't talk about or mention. Somebody who apparently needed to be taken care of, possibly without even knowing about her being there and watching over him or her.

Something struck him, then, just a thought. But it hit a nerve and seemed to bring up all the little details he'd put aside since the day he and Knives had gone their separate ways. At times he could feel that something out there was trying to make everything easy for him, but until now he thought it was Rem, being his guardian angel.

Could he be the one Glory mentioned, the one she was putting above herself and doing everything she could to protect from behind the scenes?

~*~

Okay, here's the deal. DeviantArt got remodled a bit, so here's the change: "Indy Art" has been changed to "Traditional Art" but the rest is the same. I think. I didn't browse through it and I haven't uploaded anything new. I suppose I'll do that next time. This time. Last time. Whatever.

~DL~