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 Fifteen: Recovering
Glory groaned, not wanting to wake up. Which was a feat unto itself - she never wanted to sleep anymore, always trying to stay awake. She actually wondered if she'd cried this time or not.
Yesterday was hectic, getting everything to calm down. It was the first thing she remembered. As soon as Marcus agreed to stay and the captain agreed to let him stay, Glory had reached up and grabbed his ear. She pulled him behind her all the way to her room, sat him down, and told him to explain why he had turned out the way he had. He gave her a dozen excuses and reasons why it wasn't such a bad thing, but he couldn't tell her why he had at last chosen to steal.
But he said he was honorable. They didn't steal from women or do anything diabolical, like killing or raping. He strictly forbade it among his men, and seeing as how he could beat any one of them in anything, they agreed with little problem.
And then all the tension seemed to drain away. While Glory and Marcus reminisced, Vash spent some time with Meryl and everyone on the steamer became relaxed. The only person who wasn't pleased with the turnout was Knives. The only reason why he gave in so far was because Glory knew it'd be good for her and Vash wholeheartedly agreed to it. He was outnumbered, and he had to admit, other than his talks with her, he wasn't doing much good. And Marcus was keeping her occupied with things to think and talk about, and for the first time since her breakdown, she slept without crying.
It made him extremely jealous. To think that human could help his sister more sane than he and his twin could was unfathomable. Of the three of them, Knives knew the most about psychology, how to break someone and rebuild them how he wanted them to be. Glory had broken and he was rebuilding her, back to the way she was.
But Marcus was simply talking to her, and he was helping more than Knives had in the past weeks. Unfathomable. Inconceivable.
Impossible.
Stop being so jealous, Knives, Glory thought, sitting up. She rubbed her eyes and blinked at her brother, who was still lying next to her, only he had his arms crossed and looked like a child who'd been denied his favorite treat.
How can this human possibly help you more than I can?
I raised him, Glory returned, crawling over him to get up and stretch. Knives in turn sat up and faced her. At least that's what he claimed. It's a woman thing; don't bother trying to analyze it.
A woman thing, Knives repeated. He sounded disgusted. Are you becoming like these humans?
I'm becoming nothing, except for sane, she told him firmly. A woman thing is exactly what it sounds like: feelings and thoughts that only a creature capable of birth could explain.
"And that would be a woman, I presume," Knives sneered.
"Yes, and you would be a man, so stop puzzling over it," Glory replied, heading towards the bathroom. She took off her hair tie and dropped it on the sink before undressing and starting the water.
With hardly a pause Knives followed her and kept up the conversation where it left off. I wonder which is more uncomprehendable: a man or a woman.
And what do you mean by that? Glory asked, stepping into the shower and pulling the curtain closed.
Understandable by the opposite sex, Knives clarified. In a man's eyes a woman seems unpredictable and emotional. In a woman's, a man looks rash and unfeeling.
And therein lies the problem, Glory thought back with a smirk, rubbing shampoo through her long tresses. She really ought to cut it. When down, her hair reached her thighs. That is why men and women will never understand each other. Everyday women are smarter than everyday men and think on more points. On the other hand, men are undeniably born stronger and see women as weaker and not worthy of a passing glance.
But that's not true or right, Knives argued. I've seen what women can do, what they're capable of. Besides being caring as Rem was, I've seen strong ones as you are. They come in a variety of personalities that men would likely never reach.
So you can see how each sex views the other? Glory asked as she switched over to conditioner.
Yes. It's easy enough to think on both points.
And through all this thinking, you can't see things through a human's eyes?
Silence. Knives had drawn back into his own mind and locked it, keeping her out. She knew that it was his defensive move, to hide his thoughts entirely until he could come up with something to say in return, a rebuttal to prove himself right. Only half the time did he think of something to say, and only half of those did it keep the conversation going.
So Glory hummed as she waited, ignoring the spinning in her mind that signaled another of her trips. Instead she left the water on and stepped out, grabbing a towel as Knives took her place in the shower. It was a routine they developed some time ago: the three of them, today two, leaving the water running for their sibling to take their place and wash.
Come up with anything yet? she asked, amused.
She only got more silence as an answer, but nonetheless felt his agitation. He hated it most of all when he got cornered, verbally or physically.
She smirked and dressed in her usual clothes, putting her pajamas in the bag they belonged in. That was a funny thing about how they pack: everything light was in bags, and everything else in suitcases. There was nothing heavy that they had to take with them, thank god. Well. . .other than Glory.
She laughed at the thought. She was baggage as long as she couldn't do anything of worth. So far the only good thing she'd really done were remodel the innards of their house and then fight off the bandits - if you could call it that. Marcus had done most of the work, and Glory had been scary backup. She wondered, briefly, what happened to those bandits.
Oh well, she thought, putting on her boots. It's a hazard of the life style. They should have known. Getting up, she grabbed her tie out of the bathroom and got an eyeful of Knives. She was chuckling as she put up her hair again. Cold water, Knives? she asked, teasingly.
Don't act human, Knives returned. Only they would tease a man about such a thing.
I like to rebel, Glory replied with another laugh. So tell me, was the water cold?
Not at first, Knives said as he exited the bathroom. "You did, however, use most of the hot water issued to our room."
"In a five-minute shower, I'm sure," Glory said while rolling her eyes. "All I did was wash my hair."
"And how much hair do you have?" Knives returned, making a point.
Glory grinned. "Either too much or not enough depending on your standards."
"Cut your hair."
"Later," Glory replied, opening the door. She turned and winked. "I've got to see a man about a brain. Love and peace!" she added, shutting the door.
Do not ever say that,Knives snarled at her.
Yes, master, Glory said in turn, mimicking an Igor mental accent.
Although he didn't say anything, she could feel his emotions spike at that - mostly his agitation. It gave Glory a few extra bounces to her step as she went in search of Marcus again. She could feel him nearby, but Plant powers didn't include a blueprint of the area you were in. She's more likely to get lost than to find him without playing a game of Marco Polo.
In, fact, that's what she did. "Marcus!" The call echoed down a hallway and around a corner. Glory let her fingers trail across either wall as she walked, and called again. "Marcus!"
Again the hallway carried this along, and it wasn't long before she heard a "Glory," and followed it.
"Marcus!"
"Glory." Left turn, middle passage, fork -
"Marcus!"
"Glory. . ." Right, right, left -
"Marcus!"
"Glory!"
"Marcus!"
"Gotcha!"
"What?"
"Boo!"
Glory spun at the sound and saw -
Vash.
"What are you doing, Vash?" she asked, sounding exasperated.
"Well, I was trying to find Marcus, but then you started calling him so I followed."
"You followed me."
"Yep."
"And what were you doing looking for Marcus?"
"I was going to talk to him."
"Do you know how to navigate this steamer?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Wherever Marcus is," Glory laughed.
Vash took a deep breath. "From here you go: left, left, right, up the stairs, third right, second left, down the stairs, u-turn, right, right, loooooong left, up the stairs -"
Glory started laughing. "Alright, alright! So you don't know. How'd you get here?"
"Right, right, second left, up the stairs, third right, forth left, down the stairs, down the stairs, left, left, right, left -"
"Enough!" Glory laughed out. She lifted her hands for further effect. She heard Vash laughing with her and couldn't resist hugging him. "I wonder how you always manage to do that," she said as she drew back.
"Do what?"
"Make everyone laugh, no matter who it is," Glory replied easily, looking down the corridors.
"It's a gift. I have a lot of those."
"No kidding." Stuck at a fork and having looked in either direction as far as her eyes could see, Glory turned her back to the fork and leaned against the wall. Arms and ankles crossed, she was in a pose for serious thinking. It's when she shut her eyes and tilted her head that Vash got worried.
"You - You're not going -"
"Shut up," Glory said, and her head tilted more, sharply.
"Left."
"Left," Glory repeated and turned that way.
"Wait -" Glory stopped to look at Vash. "Your left or my left?"
"What's the difference?" Glory asked.
"Your left or the left corridor?" Vash clarified.
"Oh, that. Hmm." Thinking it over, she decided that the spirit would mean her left, being the one who talked to her most. "My left. Come on." She reached out and grabbed Vash's wrist to tug him along. She began whistling somewhere along the line, following the orders the spirit gave her. Without concentrating all she could feel was the general will, but it was enough to tell her instinct which way to go.
And it led them to a dead end.
Glory groaned. "What are you guys doing?" she asked, dropping her head into her hands.
"Glory? . ." Vash asked, concerned.
"That's right," Glory sighed, leaning against a wall. "You don't know. I didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"The spirits talk to me. Well - not really. They just. . .have an odd way of communicating."
There was that concerned look again. "Are you feeling alright?"
Glory glared at the ceiling. "I'd feel better if I could find Marcus!" she snarled.
And then, very faintly, she heard her name. She looked at Vash to see him wearing a look identical to her own. So he'd heard it, too. "Marcus?" she called, loudly.
"Glory. . ."
Glory pointed at the ceiling and Vash looked that way. "He's a floor above us."
Vash was eyeing the walls. "There's a vent. . .And. . ." He turned around. "A staircase."
Glory lifted her arm. "I vote for the stairs."
"Agreed."
Glory chuckled as they began that way, and halfway there, she shoved Vash and said, "Race ya!"
She made it all the way up the stairs before she was tackled. With a yelp she rolled and tried to pin Vash. They ended up knocking each other over and shoving at one another, pins be damned. Until they were about ten feet from Marcus, that is. Then Vash hoisted her up on his shoulder and waved.
"Hey! Put me down! Vash!" Glory snapped, knowing better than to straighten. She'd hit her head on the ceiling if she tried. And with her back to Marcus, she didn't know he was there until he made himself known.
"Hey, Glory. Hi Vash," he said.
Glory quit struggling. "Marcus?" With some contortionist wriggling she was able to see above Vash's head. "Marcus!" she said, smiling. And she kicked forward, kneeing Vash in the gut.
Vash, in turn, obediently let her down. He leaned against a wall, holding his middle. "That wasn't nice!" he whined in that little kid voice.
Glory stuck her tongue out. "Neither was you lugging me around like a sack of dirty laundry."
"Nice metaphor," Marcus observed.
"Simile," both siblings corrected. Glory continued. "Metaphors use 'is' and 'are'. Similes use 'like' or 'as'. Get it?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "How about we talk about something else?"
"Like how you managed to find yourself here?" Glory suggested. They all looked around at that, noticing how tough it would be to make it here. "Speaking of, how did we make it here?" she wondered aloud.
"Luck?" both men suggested.
Glory laughed. "Right, so how do we make it out?"
The men glanced at each and then Marcus looked at the stairs. "Backtrack?" Marcus asked.
"Converse with the spirits?" Vash teased.
Stick my foot up your ass? Glory thought, without meaning to. And apparently she left the thought open as well, seeing as how Vash heard.
What kind of a baby sister are you?! he asked, shocked.
Glory grinned. A defective one. "So which way should we try?" she asked aloud.
"Up the stairs," Vash said.
Glory nodded her agreement. "Towards the deck."
"And the 'You Are Here' sign," Marcus added.
Glory laughed. "Naturally."
They all began up the stairs as suggested and Glory trailed behind the men, humming softly. It wasn't until they made their third turn that she began a beat and finally, sang. She clapped three times with the beat. "Buddy you're a boy make a big noise playing in the street gonna be a big man some day. You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kicking your can all over the place, singing -"
Marcus knew this song. So he joined in with her, clapping and singing the chorus. "We will, we will, rock you!" Clap, clap clap, clap. "We will, we will, rock you!"
The song's beat was heavily contagious, made all the more clear when Vash joined in with the beat.
"Buddy you're a young man hard man shouting in the street gonna take on the world some day. You got blood on your face, you big disgrace, waving your banner all over the place, singing -"
"We will, we will, rock you! Singing we will, we will, rock you!"
"Buddy you're an old man poor man pleading with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day. You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, somebody better put you back into your place, singing -"
"We will, we will, rock you! Singing we will, we will, rock you! Everybody, we will, we will, rock you! We will, we will, rock you!"
"Alright," Glory sang, finishing the song. And then she started laughing.
Marcus was grinning. "I forgot how fun it was to sing with you," he admitted.
"Don't worry; you're forgiven," Glory said, and leaned right as though pulled. When she looked that way, she saw that she'd been leaning against the wall as they walked and that the right wall broke off into another corridor.
And then she was yanked left and looked up. "Thanks, Vash," she said, not bothering to blush over the stupid mistake. What point was there to showing your emotions when your brothers could feel them?
Marcus had stopped. "I guess we go right?" he asked.
Glory shook her head. "No, I just slipped," she said. "Keep going."
Marcus grinned. "Only if you keep singing."
Glory laughed. "What's with you and wanting me to sing constantly? I'm going to end up with laryngitis."
"Just sing," Marcus laughed back as they began again.
Glory rolled her eyes. "Fine. Which song?"
"Sound Life," Vash suggested, making Glory laugh again.
"That's what I get for taking requests." Swallowing, she thought over the words for a moment. "So, on the first night, a pebble falls to the earth from somewhere. . ."
With Glory singing their requests, it took less time than they realized to make it to the deck and figure out how to get back to their rooms. Although Marcus didn't really have a room - he was a hanger-on, sleeping in the corridors with the rest. Glory wanted to let him stay in her and her brothers' room, but with Knives there as well, he really wasn't safe.
It was a little hard for her to tell him that, but in the end, they were all a little better off for it.
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And so ends chapter fifteen.
Date: May 27th. Time: 6:30 pm.
DL
