SEVENTEEN: the sound of thunder

At that moment, Vash's eyes went to the man lying across from him. The man's eyes had slid open, and now he groaned softly. Vash slowly lifted the man's gun so he could see it aimed toward him.

"Where am I?" he murmured. He tried to look about, and caught sight of Vash and the girls. "Man…you're good. How…"

He closed his eyes and sighed.

He wasn't dead, and now doubt he was surprised by that. But he had been taken down, and he ached furiously from whatever had hit him. He'd lost concentration and it had cost him.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he whispered, unmoving.

Meryl sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned against the cool metal of the corridor and slid down to sit next to Vash. "No matter what wrongs have been done, no one ever has the right to take the life of another."

He looked to her, setting his eyes on her slender form.

"If he had really been as bad as you thought, do you really think he would let you live?" Not my Vash, she thought. He could never be so cold and heartless. Not like so many others I've met over the years. "You have to understand, Vash is not like the man that everyone believes him to be."

The man shot a look to Vash, and the woman working on his leg. His own weapon was still trained on him. There wasn't anything he could do. This was Vash the Stampede, afterall. He probably wouldn't have much of a chance if he decided to act.

Instead, he wet his lips, pondered his words, and asked his question.

"How can you prove to me that he's not the man everyone says he is?"

"I've fired a weapon with intent to kill once times in my life, and believe me, it hurt like hell." He leaned back, actually closing his eyes as Milly worked on his leg. He grimaced in pain. "I don't know exactly who you are or where you came from, but I think it's pretty obvious that we share a common bond. What that is, I don't know just yet, but I have a pretty good idea. So you see, I couldn't kill you, but not because of what you are. I couldn't kill you because I don't kill."

He sighed heavily, wincing, actually letting the guns lower. The pain was a little more than he had anticipated.

"If you couldn't tell, it hurts him to kill anything," Meryl whispered. "You might not be able to see that, but I've seen it firsthand because I've been with him for several years now." She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. She had an expressionless look on her face, simply staring across the corridor at him, almost as if she was sharing the pain of the man beside her. "If he was truly as bad as you say, would we be here right now, talking to you? Would you even be alive? Think about it."

The man lay back and closed his eyes.

"Something doesn't quite add up, does it," she said coldly.

Vash sighed and touched her arm, telling her without words to back off. "If you want to know about me, then you have to promise you won't try to harm me or my friends. I'll tell you everything I can. The only thing I ask in return is you tell me what you know." He smiled a little, wincing once more as Milly ripped a bloody shell from his calf. "Damn, that hurts," he hissed through tears.

"It'd gotta be done, Mr. Vash!" she said, actually smiling.

Meryl winced. She wanted nothing more then to be at the side of the man she loved, holding his hand while Milly treated his wound. She knew how Milly could be, but at least the girl had a little knowledge of the nursing field. Growing up in such a large family, you had to be somewhat medically inclined.

"Well, at least if we're here you can't do any damage," the man said, sighing heavily. He pushed himself up to a sitting position against the wall across from them. He brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen into his face. What a tangled mess. "So, whaddaya want to know? As if I could tell you anything."

"Just tell me this," Vash whispered, staring at the ground. "Do you remember your childhood?"

All eyes turned up to him, surprised by his question.

"My childhood? The first thing I remember about my life is waking up in a bed seven years ago," he admitted quietly, peering at Vash with a confused look on his face. "The people who took care of me said I wandered in from the desert, but I don't remember a thing about my past before that day." He closed his eyes, and then gave Vash a cold stare. "They were murdered before my eyes three years ago."

"Oh! That's so sad," Milly said. Tears dribbled down her face for him, tears that he couldn't comprehend. She didn't care. She was just like Vash. She had emotion to spare for everyone on this entire, miserable little world. "I'm terribly sorry."

The man eyed her. Was I wrong? These people don't seem like mass-murderers, like people who could topple an entire city. They don't seem dangerous at all.

"Mr. Vash has had a rough life too. I bet you have a lot in common if you just take the time to talk about it."

He closed his eyes, considering her worlds. "I don't think you could kill anyone," he said finally. "I…if you were going to kill me, you would've done it already. While I was out cold."

Vash clung to Meryl's hand as though death itself were trying to pry her away. He didn't want to leave her. He longed to be with her until the end of time.

"You want to know where you came from? If you trust me, I can reconnect you to your past." Vash saw curiosity in the eyes of the man across from him. "I'm not the man they make me out to be. Give me a chance to show you who I am, and I will show you who you are as well. At least as best as I can."

He nodded. "All right. You win. We'll call a truce here and now. I'll cooperate, so long as you can tell me who I am."

Meryl let out a sigh of relief as the feeling of danger slipped a little from her thoughts. It was still there, but it was less. Her heart still pounded, almost painfully, against her chest. Emotionally drained from the situation, she leaned into Vash, reassuring him with her touch that she was here, that she would always be here.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir," Milly said gently, "what is your name?"

"Stryker," he replied, and after a moment, he reconsidered. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Sean Ryker."

"It's so sad you don't remember your childhood," Meryl whispered, showing obvious sympathy despite her mistrust. She never took her eyes from him, holding his gaze with her own. "What do you remember?"

"I remember having a good life with an elderly couple until they were gunning down by a criminal. I've gone around taking out the same kind of bastards that killed them ever since." He closed his eyes. "I went after a lot of them. As many as I could get a clean shot at. And that was a lot. It's what led me here, to get Vash the Stampede."

"I'm glad you didn't succeed," Meryl murmured, giving Vash's hand a gentle squeeze. She watched the man in black, chills rushing up her spine. Seeing him lying there, she realized just how easy it would be to confuse the two. "This man means a lot to me. I don't know if I could have ever survived without him."

Vash gave Meryl a gentle kiss atop her head. His breath quickened ever so slightly as he breathed in her scent. Then he sat up a little, focusing his thoughts on Stryker.

"No one sent you?"

"No, of course not."

It was a little disturbing. Vash wondered if there were others like him out there, wandering the desert. He was worried, for he had already developed a theory, and it involved the geo-plant here within this shuttle. Knives had known about this shuttle from the beginning, as had Vash. Knives had probably sent Stryker out seven years ago, which explained why he had no memory of his life prior to that day he'd walked out of the desert and into the lives of the old couple he'd referred to. Had Stryker been the first? Or the last? There was just no telling how many others were really out there, if any.

"It must have been very hard," he said quietly. "Watching those you care for most losing their lives, right before your very eyes."

He knew the truth of this more than he let on.

"It's not easy losing the ones you care for at all," Meryl agreed. "We can relate, at least in that way." She closed her eyes, still trying to regain some of her composure. On the outside, she was still cool, collected Meryl, but on the inside she was an emotional wreck. Everything from the recent dramatic events to the simple kiss from Vash, moments ago, had her heart and mind in a jumble.

Milly, finished with Vash's leg, slumped over and gazed to the floor, listening to the conversation in silenced. Her thoughts drifted to Wolfwood as Meryl spoke, and she gave a soft cry of pain. She had told him that he needed his strength, to eat sandwiches she and Meryl had made for him the night before he died.

Would you…eat them with me?

Of course, she couldn't refuse. She loved to eat, and eating with Wolfwood had made her very happy.

"Eating" had entailed a little more than talking and nibbling on pastrami and mayonnaise on rye. "Eating" had turned into an all night affair, when the touch of the priest had been no less than being graced by the hands of an angel. It had been the most wonderful, blessed event in her life. She had cherished every moment of that blissful night, despite her uncertainty at his gentle hands as he had helped to slip her clothes from her trembling body.

Damn right, those had been the best sandwiches she had ever eaten.

Tears finally burst free, followed immediately by a low, mournful wail.

Meryl let go of Vash's hand and slipped to the big girl's side. She didn't have to ask what had caused the sudden sorrow in Milly's heart. The answer was all too obvious. Wolfwood had been a good friend, but Meryl had been no where near as close to him as Milly had been. She could only imagine the extent of the pain that she felt from his death, a pain Meryl could detect in her friend in most anything she did.

She wrapped her arms around Milly, whispering soft words that she doubted would help. All she could do was hold the big girl close and be there when she was most needed. "I'm here, Milly," she whispered. It was all she needed to say.

She cast a mournful glance to Vash before shutting her eyes, a silent tear slowly trickling down her cheek.

Stryker watched it all in silence, amazed by the humanity in everything the girls did. The big one, Milly, cried for a loss he knew nothing about, and the tiny, controlled one, revealed her compassion with delicate grace. The big girl crushed her so tightly into her enormous embrace, it was a wonder she could even breathe.

These were people, and people deserved the benefit of the doubt. He could see no hostilities in them at all, though he'd seen a lot of sick scum who fingered Vash to be the most dangerous man they'd ever seen.

This man? The man who wouldn't even kill to defend his life?

Had the shoes been turned, he would have killed Vash in a heartbeat. Who was the true killer among these people, because this couldn't possibly be the dangerous Humanoid Typhoon he'd heard so much about.

"I didn't realize. I came here looking for a bloodthirsty brute. Sounds to me like I was looking in the wrong place."

"I'm sorry you came so far for nothing," Milly mumbled into Meryl's hair.

"But it doesn't have to be for nothing," Vash countered. "I've got something that you need to see, Sean. It might even be enough to show you who you are and where you come from." He drew a deep breath, shooting a look at the girls. "You see, the truth is you and I don't exactly belong to the human race."

----------

He ran as fast as his two legs would carry him, stumbling over his own two feet as well as the loose sand or the desert floor. He couldn't believe how fast the man had been. It was amazing, and utterly frightening. However, the scariest thing had been the fact that the man hadn't even been accurate. He hadn't been anything more than a trigger-happy lunatic, hell-bent on doing nothing less then filling the air with lead.

For an ex-con and a bounty hunter who'd been on the man's trail for so long, he'd expected far more of a fight than what he'd gotten. Especially not such a piss-poor defensive. He'd known Vash was crazy—after all, the people he'd talked to over the years had insisted that the Humanoid Typhoon was no more than a lucky sonuva bitch without a single lick of sense in his tiny, insignificant brain.

Jon had quickly learned that his sources were accurate, but he hadn't expected it to be so…scary.

He stumbled onward as the afternoon sun pelted down on him with its searing heat. Off in the distant, he began to see the waves of hallucination. He was certain he could see a black dot on the horizon, and thought it might be a car. He went onward, expectantly, eager to escape the heat.

He went on for what seemed to be forever. The heat increased, as did the size of the spot in the desert.

He began to pick up speed when he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face.

The bounty hunter fought to regain his footing, but he just couldn't. Soon, the sound of a vehicle approached. He pushed himself up a little, peering at a familiar, brown jeep. He began to shudder, a thin smile spreading across his lips. He heard a car door open and a pair of boots hit the ground. Somebody strolled along to the front of the vehicle.

Oh, thank God. They've come for me.

He heard something else a moment later, the metallic sound of a pistol's chamber sliding shut. The boots came to a stop two paces away. A shadow lingered over him. A shadow, and a familiar snicker. Jon tried to push himself up, but he was far too weak. Why was he so weak? Only an hour ago he had been at the top of his game.

Oh God, protect me.

He didn't know exactly why he was asking for the Almighty's help now. He hadn't asked for anything before, and damn sure he hadn't offered it, either. His time was running thin, and he had come to realize it. No wonder he had survived Vash the Stampede. His punishment was that he had been giving a chance at survival, only to have it snatched away from him.

Clenching his fist, Jon whispered through chapped lips. "I don't wanna die."

A voice fell upon him, a thick, raspy voice he knew all too well. "Shoulda finished the job, then, Mr. Thomas."

Jon clenched his eyes shut. Unmoving, he counted the seconds.

One… Two…

There was the sound of thunder.

----------

Meryl listened half-heartedly as Vash revealed the truth of his existence to Stryker. Her concerns focused on the girl in her arms who cried as if she would never stop. Meryl felt her pain, wished she could somehow take some of it on herself and spare Milly some of what she was feeling. She would give nearly anything to make Milly happy again. In her eyes, anything less than seeing light in the big girl's eyes seemed no less than a sin.

Meryl had realized something there on that cold metal floor as she held Milly close. She had realized that Wolfwood's death had opened Milly up to all of the pain that the world held in it. What happened back then had crushed the girl who had seen joy in life like no one else she had ever known. Not even Vash. She wished more than anything in the world that she could take back everything that had happened and bring back the lost happiness that had once shown like fire in Milly's innocent eyes.

It was an impossible dream. Milly could never really go back to the way she used to be and it broke Meryl's heart in so many places. The words shared between Vash and Stryker were lost to her beneath the violent, heartfelt sobs of a woman who lost true love.

Of course, Milly would never cry forever. She wasn't that kind of girl. She expected herself to show the world that joy could never truly be lost, and she couldn't do that while she was lying on a rock-hard, ice-cold metal floor, shedding an ocean of tears. She turned it all off like a water faucet. Suddenly, those heavy, throaty sobs vanished and her tears faded away. She dried her eyes with the sleeve of her overcoat and sat back on her heels, sniffling a little and she smiled big for her friend.

Meryl sighed softly and smiled back. For Milly, a forced smile glowed as though the gates of Heaven had been opened up inside her, its powerful light glistening in her eyes. At first, Meryl was surprised at the sudden change. Then again, she supposed nothing that Milly did ever really surprised her anymore. She was happy that her tears had stopped and that she was smiling again. She touched her friend's shoulder in a way that told her that she would always be there for her, the way Milly had always been there for her, time and time again.

----------

Despite the ridiculous sound of the tale, it wouldn't have taken twisting his arm for Stryker to accept the truth of it. The fact remained that he had skills unmatched by any he had ever known, save the man next to him, the man who mirrored him in every way. Well, in most ways, if truth be told.

So he had accepted the tale for truth without question.

Especially since Vash insisted that the proof was readily available. The proof, he said, lay in the geo-plant of this very shuttle. He had never actually seen a geo-plant before, but Vash offered to take him to it, so he agreed.

Now they stood before the plant, gazing upon the dozens of infant plant spawn still tied to the lifeline of the system. His arms hung limply at his side as he gazed into the hazy glass. It had taken him quite some time to agree to enter the plant chamber; after all, he had been told ages ago that the geo-plants emitted a radiation deadly to humans. Vash had finally convinced him that he wasn't truly human, and that they could both enter without the fear of death haunting them.

"Hey there," Vash told the plant in his gentlest voice. "It's me again."

The Humanoid Typhoon smiled to the creature that appeared in the dissipating haze. Stryker simply gawked up at the pale-skinned beast within the giant bulb.

"My God," he murmured. The thing turned to him, watching him. Soon, a soothing, song filtered into his brain, a song he knew only he and Vash could hear. "Amazing. It's as if…as if I've known this place all along."

Vash smiled. "I know. It's a powerful thing, isn't it?" He closed his eyes and soaked in the warmth of the great plant. The heat of it was intoxicating, flowing through him with great power. Stryker felt it too, the likes of which he had never experienced. He felt young again, as though the strength of life had broken through and filled his soul. He didn't ever want to leave. He closed his eyes and spread out his arms, soaking it all it.

"My first memory in life is floating in a sweltering light, far brighter than any you have ever seen," Vash said quietly. "I know now that I was within a geo-plant, growing towards a life amongst the humans with my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Knives."

"I see."

Vash nodded. It was clear that whoever Stryker truly was, he had never known Knives. Quietly, he revealed the past, as he had revealed it to Milly over a year ago. He had not told the girl earlier in their friendship because he had been protecting them. There was no need to protect Stryker. He served his duplicate better by being truthful.

And Stryker held to every world Vash had to say. He clung to him like an eager child, drawing upon an elder's story. Could it possibly be? Was he more than the mere human he had always believed himself to be? Were all these amazing abilities no more than his own, true nature, a nature less human than he could have possibly dreamed?

He stood there, gazing with sorrow the geo-plant. "She's so sad."

"She's a slave," Vash whispered.

Stryker shot him a look. "What?"

"They're keeping her like this. These plant spawn…their growth isn't natural. Somebody seeded her."

His duplicate shuddered at the thought. "But who could do such a thing?"

Vash nodded in agreement. "It's only been four months, so it wasn't Knives."

"Then who?"

Vash shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted sorrowfully. "I honestly don't know."