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Alex stood out in the cool night air in the middle of April City, smoking a cigarette as she waited for the arrival of Vann and Eamon. Vann and Lucius had heard of the even that afternoon, and had devised a quick plan. As well as that, they had to set up territory patrols. Alex was out with Eamon and Vann for that night.

"Cheers, chum," a voice said, and she jumped. Eamon appeared from the shadows, Vann trailing behind as he took out a mini-liquor bottle and had a swig.

"Where're we patrollin'?" she asked, taking the bottle as Vann offered it and taking a gulp. It was a thicker liquor she hadn't tasted before, which burned more than whiskey. She coughed, and handed him back the bottle wordlessly. He grinned.

"Around the West District," Eamon said. "Let's get goin'."

The three traveled in silence through the streets, that were a bit less busy since it was night but still had plenty of people. Alex quickly picked pockets along the way, only receiving glances from Eamon. They entered the West District soon enough, and nearly immediately could see the signs of the Snakes. Little paint symbols with a squiggly line of a snake and the word "Snake" or "Blackwater".

"Sons of bitches," Vann swore, chucking a rock at a Snake insignia on a metal signpost. It bounced off and struck a passing black cat in the head, which hissed and darted off.

"If we see any Snakes," Eamon began, "draw your guns immediately. Don't fire right away; wait until they shoot, and then don't shoot to kill, only wound."

"Gotcha," Vann and Alex said together. "Here, Eamon, I wanna check out the Slagwurm Quarter, okay?" Vann asked. Eamon nodded, and he parted off into the shadows. Alex and Eamon headed down a dark sidealley, both squinting to check the shadows. When they were certain nobody else was there, Eamon spoke.

"Hey, Alex, what would y'do if I ever got shot?"

Alex stopped dead in her tracks, surprised altogether about his words. She had had a crush on him since she had first seen him, but knowing disguised as a boy gangster she couldn't let him know, she had put her outlaw life before her lovelife. Now the question tapped into her attraction with him, and she was worried he'd see her blush.

"I--I don't know," she said. "I'd kill the person who shot you, and if they got away, I'd make sure y'were a'right first, and then I'd track 'em down and kill 'em."

He was silent, and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he said, "Let's keep movin'. I don't like hangin' 'round here blind." They continued on, reaching the end of the alley and turning down a lit street. They went forward in silence, keeping their eyes open for Snakes, until they heard someone call and Vann came to them again.

"I saw a nest in Slagwurm, but they were gone when I got there," he said. "You?"

"Nothin' but signs so far," Eamon said. "I don't know if they're even out right now--" at his fateful words, a gunshot rang out, and he fell. Alex and Vann glanced behind them, to see nearly eight Snake gangsters gathered, weapons drawn. Alex and Vann drew, and dove aside as the hail of gunfire started. Alex fired back, feeling a bullet hit her left shoulder and another heavily graze her waist. Her bullets found two Snake targets and knocked them down immediately, which sent the hail of fire more on her instead of Vann.

"Vann, get Eamon outta here!" she shouted, firing as fast as she could. And then the worst happened.

She ran out of bullets.

Alex holstered the pistol quickly and thought of something to do, but then the Snake gunfire stopped and the gang approached, weapons pointed at her. Vann hadn't gotten Eamon out in time, and a Snake's bullet struck him down next to Eamon.

"Ah, it's the little brat Coyote bastard," one of the Snakes snarled, and a pistol was aimed at her head.

And then she saw fear suddenly appear in the eyes of all the Snakes, and weapons were lowered. The gang backed off slowly, then turned and ran. Alex had to grab the nearby building's wall to keep from collapsing, and slowly she turned.

The four from the saloon stood there, the two women, one big and one small, the priest with the cross, and the man in the red coat. Except for now the big woman had a stungun out, the small one two derringers in each hand, the priests a huge cross-shaped gun, and the red-coated man a simple, yet big, gun. She slumped to the ground, and the stungun-bearing woman rushed over to her, with an exclamation of, "Are you okay?"

"Eamon, Vann," she rasped out, motioning to the other two. The smaller woman crouched down and checked each pulse, and Alex whispered, "Are they d--dead?"

"Not yet, but they will be soon," she said. The red-coated man put his gun away and picked up Eamon, while the priest slung Vann over his shoulder. The two women helped Alex up, but she tried to push their hands away, trying to keep her pride still intact. After a moment the small woman smacked her upside the head, making her gasp in surprise, and said in a stern tone, "Now, none of that, mister! We're trying to help you, so swallow your pride and let us!" Alex obeyed immediately.

They led her on for what seemed like forever, until they reached a little wooden house. Inside Vann and Eamon were carried to separate beds, while Alex followed after them, despite the women's complaints.

"I'm sorry, ma'ams," she snapped after a while. "I'm fine! Tend to them, not me!" It was their turn to listen, and they did. Alex sat in a chair near the beds, anxiously watching them tirelessly. Finally the priest-man walked up beside her and said, "You should get something to eat, boy. Your friends will be fine."

"O--okay," Alex stammered, unsure, and followed him absently into the room over. The red-coated man sat on a couch, and she sat down next to him, while the priest-man went into the kitchen to get something.

"What's your name?" the man asked. Alex tried to speak, licked her dry and cracked lips, and tried again.

"Alex," she said, her voice raspy and hoarse. "The blond one is Vann, and the other one is Ea--Eamon." She had to struggle out the name; it was painful that just a while before he was shot he had asked her what would she do if he was. And she wasn't able to follow it out, to kill his shooter. She suddenly realized she was crying, and she looked away quickly, wiping her eyes. She wished she had her hat, which was knocked off in the encounter, to cover her face from her tears, but her hands worked, and she covered her eyes, her shoulders shaking with unvoiced sobs.

"They'll live," the man said, and she heard soft sympathy in his voice. "Vann was struck in the shoulder, knocking him down, and the shock knocked him out. Eamon was hit in the chest, but it didn't puncture his heart or lungs."

Alex wiped her eyes, making sure not a single tear remained, and turned her head towards him. "Are you saying that just to make the situation better?"

"No, I'm saying it because it's the truth," the man answered.

"God, as soon as I can, I'm gonna go find the Snakes and kill every single one of them," she growled, gritting her teeth. "I'll kill all of them. I'll find their leader and make sure he suffers the worst!"

"Though that sounds smart now, it's actually really stupid," the man said. She glanced at him, surprised. "Just think, if you try that, you might get shot and die yourself."

"I don't care," she snapped.

"You should, because I'm sure Vann and Eamon will care if you die. And if you don't, you have to live the rest of your life with the guilt of what you did. The taking of another person's life shouldn't be decided by you, or me, or anyone. Despite the fact that they hurt you and your friends, you shouldn't kill them. You don't have to forgive them, just let them live."

"That's weak," she said, but she felt drained of energy, and couldn't argue him fiercely enough. "They should be punished."

"Is that for you to decide, though?" he asked. She frowned, thinking. Technically, it wasn't. But they hurt Vann, and...and Eamon! They can't be allowed to kill again! But she didn't state that. She was too weary.

Instead she said, tired now, "What's your name, Mister Love and Peace?"

"My name's Vash," he said. She blinked heavy eyelids at him, and that name rang a bell dimly in her mind, but she yawned...and collapsed with exhaustion.

---.:.begin.:.---

Wolfwood had been listening the whole time to this conversation, just inside the doorway to the kitchen. He stepped out as the boy collapsed with weariness, and said sarcastically, "Mister Love and Peace, huh?"

Vash looked sadly up at him. "I tried to change his mind, but I don't know if it worked or not."

The priest shrugged, coming in with a sandwich, which he placed on the table in front of the sleeping child. Vash stood up, and put the boy full-length on the couch to sleep, then stepped back and went into the bedroom where the girls were cleaning and dressing the two men's wounds.

"That's Vann, and that's Eamon," he said quietly, pointing them out. Meryl glanced at him, frowning at his sad face, then getting back to work.

"This one, Eamon, he's bleeding fast," she said, sitting him up and wrapping a bandage around his chest. "Nothing punctured, thank God, but the bleeding's bad."

Vash sat down in the chair next to the beds, with a sigh. How could he get through to the kid? He saw so much anger and hate in the boy, and also grief. It was luck that had them walking down the street, him after donuts, and then hearing gunshots and rushing to find the two downed men and the boy shotless and with a pistol aimed at his head.

Wolfwood sat down in a chair in the main room with the couch, watching the sleeping boy, Alex. The boy looked completely zonked out, one hand trailing over the edge of the couch. The priest glanced at the hand, seeing a long scar that looked like it had come from a knife--and he saw the bloodstain from an apparent gunshot wound. The most curious thing about the child was his feminine grace and emotion. He may sound like a young boy and act like a boy, but he seemed more girlish. A ton of female relatives, perhaps? How could someone join a gang this young? he thought. His suspicion about the boy being in a gang had been proven with the gunfight they had walked in on. He felt sorry for the kid, tainted at such an age. He'll probably be dead before he reaches his twenties.

The boy gave a jerk in his sleep, and lay still.

---.:.end.:.---

It was funny, when I was writing one part of this I put down Alex calling Vash "Mister Love and Peace". I knew that's what he stood for, but I didn't remember he had been called that before. Freaky, huh?

I had this book report I had to do in reading, and guess what I picked? Vol. #1 of "Trigun Maximum". Hey, I thought it was pretty lucky when I forgot my actual reading book in my locker and only had the manga with me, and 'cause of that my teacher said I could use it.

I almost forgot my quote-of-the-chapter((gasp!)):
"An Irishman is never drunk as long as he can hold on to a single blade of grass and not fall off the face of the Earth!"
((my siggy on a message board! - ))

-Wolf