Hey, I'm back, and sooner than expected! Well, here's the next chapter, and I'm still expecting all of you that are reading this and not reviewing to get your acts together and just click on the little "go" button at the bottom of the page to submit a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun (I think I forgot this in the past few chapters--oops)

LIVING MEMORIES

-A Trigun Story-

Chapter 12: The Return of the Father

Frey held her breath as she and Wolfwood went careening into the air, releasing it quickly as they landed back on the ground with a hard thud. Wolfwood smirked as he noticed her grip tighten where her hands held the back of his shirt.

"Something wrong?"

Frey cringed. "I still don't know how you convinced me to do this." Wolfwood laughed.

"All I had to do is point out the fact that neither of us had enough money for a car," he reminded her. She groaned.

"Still, walking would have been better than this." Wolfwood just smiled as he accelerated the motorcycle, chuckling to himself as Frey moaned. So the girl with eyes that could burn a hole in your very soul did have a weakness.

They rode in silence for several more minutes. Frey could feel the anticipation growing inside her. They had been on the road for three days now. They had to be getting close to Cerin City, assuming that Wolfwood knew where he was going. Her joy at being reunited with her companions was overshadowed, however, when she remembered that three days of her week to return to Knives were already gone. It would take her another three days at least to get back, leaving her one day with them. She sighed deeply.

"Got any cigarettes?"

"I thought you were a priest."

"Yeah, well-"

"No."

"Oh."

Frey smiled as she watched Wolfwood's black hair blowing wildly as they sped through the desert. It was just like Michael's. Suddenly she felt at peace, as if everything would be alright, as she pictured the look on Michael's face when he finally met his father. It still surprised her a little that this man was Michael's father. They were so varied in their personalities. Then again, they were both rash, and protective. They just had different ways of expressing it.

Wolfwood interrupted her thoughts again, this time with a more important question. "So, how exactly do you know Milly?"

Frey smiled. "Your son-" she paused as Wolfwood jumped at her use of that phrase, "saved me from some men at a bar a while back. I went to December with him and stayed with Carly for awhile, but I've gotten a place of my own since."

"Carly?"

"Milly's sister, or, one of them, from what I hear." Wolfwood smiled, memories of Milly's stories about her family coming back. She had had what, ten brothers and sisters? And she was the youngest.

Frey proceeded to explain exactly who Carly was to Wolfwood, as well as Sloan, Aidan, and Alec. She updated him on the fact that they had moved to December to take care of his orphanage, and basically summarized everything that had happened since the day Michael had been shot in the alley, leaving out the fact that she, Michael, Alec, Vash, and Aidan had set out to find Knives. Wolfwood was just left thinking that they had been visiting Cerin City or something. When she was finally finished, Wolfwood sighed, finding the pure rush of information almost too much to handle. With that out of the way, they fell into the silence again. Then,

"Um, Mr. Wolfwood? Could you, um, not tell anyone about . . . you know . . ."

"Your affiliation with Knives?" He asked emotionlessly.

She cringed. "Yeah."

"You're going have to tell them eventually, you know."

"I know, I will eventually, just not yet." Frey's eyes fell, realizing there wasn't going to be an eventually. She would be leaving tomorrow. Thankfully, Wolfwood didn't realize this, or at least didn't have time to. They had sighted Cerin City. Frey's heart jumped to her throat. This suddenly seemed much harder than it had before.

Wolfwood raised an eyebrow as they pulled into town, stopping the motorcycle.

"Why is it abandoned?" he asked apprehensively.

Frey pulled off her helmet and stepped of the motorcycle, her eyes down.

"Kid?"

"We were looking for Knives," she quietly admitted, "Vash, Michael, Aidan, Alec, and I. There was a massacre here."

Wolfwood looked at her disbelievingly. "What are you going to do now that you've found him?"

"I don't know."

Wolfwood followed Frey's example and climbed off of the motorcycle. The two of them stood there for a few moments, letting it sink in.

"What were you doing with Knives, anyway?"

"Legato kidnapped me."

Wolfwood said no more.

"We might as well just walk to the hotel," Frey said, glad to change the subject. "It's just down the street." She led him down the empty, eerie road in silence, until she spotted someone sitting on the side of the street. She squinted, the figure being difficult to discern in the dying light. Then her eyes flew open. Michael . . .

Wolfwood was forgotten. Her pace quickened gradually, until she had broken into a full-fledged run, screaming his name. He looked up. Frey barely noticed the melancholy look that hovered on his countenance, because as soon as he had recognized her it completely disappeared. His face lit up and he jumped to his feet, starting to run and closing the distance between them.

Frey laughed out loud as they reached each other. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air, spinning a few times, then lowered her back to the ground and took her in his arms. Frey gasped. His emotion was overwhelming. His actions completely gave away his feelings. He just stood there, holding her as if he was terrified that he might lose her again.

Finally he let her go and stepped back, though he kept her hand safe in his. It was then that he saw Wolfwood.

The priest was just staring at the two of them. Frey could tell from the look on his face that he had just realized who the young man he was looking at was. She smiled. Michael reacted differently, however. Immediately he pushed Frey behind him and whipped out his cross-shaped pistol, not taking note of Wolfwood's surprise when he set eyes on the gun.

"You . . . you're the one that kidnapped her, aren't you! Get away from here! Get away from her now! Don't you dare ever come near her again!" His hand was shaking as he attempted to aim at the man before him, his anger almost overpowering. Frey just smiled and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Now Michael, that's no way to treat your father."

Though he couldn't hear her, what Frey had said instantly became obvious to Wolfwood. The look on his son's face gave away that much. He shifted uncomfortably and lifted a hand in greeting.

"Um, hello . . . son."

Michael shook his head vigorously, backing up and taking Frey with him. Both of his hands tightened, one around his gun and the other around Frey's hand.

"No," he said simply. "You can't be my father. My father is dead. I don't know what you did to brainwash Frey into thinking that, but-"

"FREY!"

All three of them turned to find the source of the high-pitched squeal. It was Milly. She ran up, nearly crushing Frey in a bear hug.

"Milly? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Carly and Sloan and Meryl and I came to find you guys! Isn't it great!" Frey just smiled, realizing with satisfaction that she would get to see Milly and Wolfwood's reunion after all.

Frey glanced at Wolfwood. His face had paled drastically. His mouth was open, but no words came out. Milly watched both Frey and Michael in confusion.

"Hey, what are you two looking-"

The words died. Michael noticed that his mother suddenly stiffened as she saw what they did. He looked up at her face. She looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"M-Mr. Priest?" she stammered. Then the terrified look on her face suddenly melted. Her eyes filled with tears. Without another word, she ran to Wolfwood, throwing herself into his arms and bawling. Wolfwood clearly wasn't sure how to react, but after a few moments of letting her soak his jacket with her tears, he gently put his arms around her, burying his head in her hair. Oh Milly. You haven't changed a bit, have you? You're still the same sweet girl you always were.

Frey smiled as she "accidentally" overheard his thoughts. Then she watched silently as Michael released her hand and walked up to the couple in front of him.

"Mom?" he asked weakly, his voice unsure. "Mom, what's going on?" His mother pulled away from Wolfwood, smiling despite her tear-stained cheeks. Michael didn't fail to notice how the strange man holding his mother was reluctant to let her go.

"Michael," Milly said, brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand, "I'd like to introduce you to your father. Nicholas D. Wolfwood." Michael looked up at the man, disbelief still apparent in his eyes. He shook his head. There was no way.

Still, he could almost see himself in the man. No, he told himself, as much as he hated to admit it, the man looked just like him, expect for his eyes. Then he remembered the way his mother had looked at the man when she had seen him. Was it possible?

Wolfwood smiled and extended his hand. "It's good to finally meet you, Michael." Michael hesitated, glancing at his mother. Her face was filled with pure, unbelievable joy. He had never seen her look so happy. She nodded softly.

He looked back at Wolfwood. He was still smiling softly, hand extended, though he obviously wasn't going to try to force it. Michael held his hand forward, then pulled it back, unsure. But he couldn't deny that what this man was claiming was true. No man had ever made his mother so happy. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand in his father's, shaking it.

"You too . . . Dad."

Frey thought she was going to start laughing, so great was the joy she felt. And she knew that everything she was going through was worth it, just because of that moment. She turned, making her way to the hotel on her own.

"Hey kid, where're you going?"

"Oh, don't worry about me," she answered, waving a hand in the air, "you all just take your time."

Wolfwood looked down at his son as soon as she was out of earshot. "You know, she told me about how you saved her back at that bar. That was very brave of you. Idiotic, I might add, but brave."

Milly smiled. "Yes, Michael has been wonderful. He's taken good care of me." Wolfwood patted his newfound son on the back.

"Good," he answered. "I don't know what I would do if you hadn't been here for her."

When Frey reached the hotel, there were no lights on. Soft voices carried into the building from behind it. Assuming everyone was out there, she headed up the stairs to her room. Her lack of sleep for the past several days was catching up with her. And she could surprise them later.

She was about halfway to the staircase when she heard someone scream her name. She couldn't see very well in the dark, but out of nowhere someone practically mauled her. It didn't take her long to realize it was Aidan. The group outside had obviously heard the noise, because they all came running into the hotel, turning lights on on their way.

Meryl was the first to reach them. When she saw Frey sitting on the floor, still recovering from the blow of Aidan flying into her, she fell to her knees beside the girls, screaming now, too. Vash rounded the corner, crying, "Meryl! What is it!" But as he saw the sweet reunion occurring, he just leaned back against the wall and sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness," Carly murmured, holding her shirt near where her heart was. Alec stepped forward, helping Frey to her feet.

Frey's smile faded as she saw the look on his face. "Are you okay?" she whispered to him. He just hugged her, shaking his head.

"I was so worried about you," he said. Frey smiled. It was strange to see Alec, who was normally so arrogant, reduced to this because of her. She glanced up and saw Sloan standing behind Alec. He had cracked a small smile, watching them. She smiled back. It wasn't much, but it was greatly satisfying anyway.

Alec backed out of the hug, but kept hold of her shoulders. He look her straight in the eyes.

"Frey, where were you?"

She removed his hands by shrugging. "Oh, I just had some business to take care of. Sorry I didn't leave a note. I guess I didn't realize you all would worry so much."

"Frey," Alec said so only she could hear, his tone clearly revealing that he didn't believe her.

"Really," she said, "it was nothing."

She held her breath as he probed her eyes for a few more moments, relief filling her as he stepped back and patted her shoulder.

"Well, it's really good to have you back."

At that moment, Michael walked in the door, alone. Everyone except Frey looked up expectantly, excited to see what his reaction to seeing Frey would be. But he just slipped his shoes off, then looked up, his expression showing no surprise at all.

"Well, I guess you all found out Frey's back."

Aidan looked at Frey in disappointment, having expected more than that. Frey, however, was looking at Michael, grinning crookedly.

"So Michael, where's your mom?"

"Uh, she's going to be a minute." He looked up at Frey, smirking. She laughed a little under her breath, ignoring the way Meryl was looking back and forth between her and Michael, confused.

"All right," she demanded, "what are you two hiding?"

"Well, I'm exhausted," was Frey's only reply. "I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, me too," Michael said, following her up the stairs and trying not to laugh.

Meryl looked to Vash, but he just shrugged.

"Hey, don't look at me."

Frey sat alone in her room, brushing slowly through her long black hair and watching herself in the mirror. The silence was broken by a knock at the door.

"Come in," she murmured. It was Michael. She smiled softly.

"Are you sure you want to come in here? Last time you did I ended up disappearing for a week."

He ignored her, reaching into his pocket. "I've got something for you."

"Uh-oh, again?"

He shook his head in exasperation. "Oh, stop it. Here." He had pulled out Frey's old pair of sunglasses. They were cracked in two places, having been stepped on by Michael after falling off of a table.

"I know they won't do you much good anymore, but I thought you might want them back anyway." Frey took them slowly, turning them over in her hands. Then she realized she was acting very melancholy. She looked up at him and smiled.

"So, how does it feel to have a father?" He didn't answer for a few moments.

"Frey, how did you do it?" he finally asked, his eyes pleading for an answer to all of his confusion.

"Look, it was no big deal, really. I just knew someone from back home that was . . . er . . . gifted." She sighed. Well, she hadn't lied.

Michael just shook his head, not really surprised considering her powers.

"What about the window?"

"Uh . . ."

"Well, I put in a new one."

Frey smiled, grateful that she didn't have to answer his question. "Thanks."

An awkward silence ensued, interrupted finally by Meryl's extremely loud scream from downstairs.

"Well, I guess your parents are home."

"Yeah."

"Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight." He began to close the door, but paused halfway.

"Frey?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" She gave him a half-smile.

"Okay," she lied, "goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replied. "I love you." He silently pulled the door shut.

Frey was completely floored. The silence in her room was only broken by the sound of wood on wood as her brush plummeted to the ground, in unison with her stomach. She stared blankly at herself in the mirror, then noticed the shining silver ring still hanging around her neck. She grasped it in her hand. Blindly she reached for the light switch, covering the room in darkness, then collapsed on her face, arms and legs spread, on her bed.

"Oh, Michael," she whispered, "why did this have to happen? I-I never should have gotten close to you . . ." Abruptly she slammed her fist against the soft blankets, swearing quietly under her breath. Then she sat alone in silence and darkness for hours, inwardly battling with herself and the choice she knew she had to make.

"Frey, thank you so much." Frey turned abruptly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had come down for breakfast, but hadn't even heard Meryl come up behind her.

"What?" she asked groggily.

Meryl smiled. "Sloan, Carly, and Aidan are all a little shocked to see that Wolfwood's the kind of man Milly chose, but I've never seen Milly so happy. Vash is in really high spirits too. It's just good to have him back."

Frey nodded absentmindedly, now understanding what Meryl was talking about. The two walked into the kitchen. Milly was absolutely beaming. Also at the table sat Wolfwood and Vash, side by side, reminiscing.

Aidan stood wide-eyed as they described the time they had both faked their own deaths in a gunfight. Even Alec seemed impressed. Meryl laughed.

"I remember that tournament! Vash, you were so wasted that you hit all the targets on accident. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he grumbled, though he obviously wasn't really upset.

"Oh, remember the caravan!" Milly asked excitedly. "And Julius and Moore?"

"That's right," Wolfwood said, leaning back in his chair. "That's when you shot them both with rubber bullets so everyone would think they were dead."

"Yeah, and you shot me with one of those things at point-blank range. Jerk."

Wolfwood began to laugh, slapping Vash on the back. "Ah, those were the times. But then I left, and . . . Augusta . . ."

Awkward silence fell on the room. That subject had been avoided for years. In the silence, however, the radio, which had been unheard before, could be heard clearly.

"Yesterday, reports were made of another massacre," a voice almost covered by static was saying. Frey stiffened. "The murderer has once again left the trademark word, Knives, apparently written in blood . . ." Static interrupted again, this time causing the voice to fade into nothing. Vash looked sadly at Meryl.

"You know what I have to do." She nodded solemnly.

"I'm going too." It was Wolfwood.

"No Wolfwood, you just got back, and-"

"Oh come on, you're not really going to leave me out of the fun, are you?"

Vash actually smiled, shaking his head.

Sloan spoke up. "Well, then I'm going."

"No offense buddy, but this is a little out of your league." Sloan whirled on Wolfwood, highly offended.

"How would you know?" he demanded. "You've been dead for nineteen years anyway, and you're only back because of some evil magic or something," he said, glancing rather conspicuously at Frey. "I'm a highly experienced officer in the cavalry! I know this is not game, and I'm much more capable than you seem to believe!"

Wolfwood's twitching eye wasn't missed, but he managed to answer in a calm voice. "This is the man that is responsible for my death, Mr. Fallon. Besides, it would mean a lot if you stayed behind and took care of Milly." At that Sloan fell silent, realizing that with Vash and Wolfwood gone he would be the only man left. What he failed to see was that he could hardly make a difference anyway. Still, Wolfwood had been sincere in his desire for Sloan to take care of Milly.

Frey looked at Milly, fully expecting her to protest. After all, she had just gotten her dead husband back. But she was just smiling at Wolfwood, her eyes shimmering with tears. "By careful, dear," she whispered. He nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Frey raised an eyebrow, wondering why Milly was so willing to let him risk his life but so restraining on Michael. Then again, she had eventually decided to let him go. And she probably had a lot more control over her son than Wolfwood.

Vash stood up abruptly. "Well, we'd better all get packed. The rest of you have to get back to December, you know." Michael rose also, though in protest.

"What do you mean? I'm sticking with you."

"Me too," said Alec. Aidan remained silent due to her father's presence, but the look in her eyes clearly revealed her desire to accompany them as well.

"We're perfectly capable fighters," Michael continued to argue, "isn't that right, Frey?" To everyone's surprise, Frey just shook her head.

"Listen to Vash this time, Michael. We should just stay." At that moment the fight was given up, so shocked were Michael and Alec. Meryl spoke up, however.

"At least let us accompany you to September. You'll be going that way, won't you? And besides, it won't take us too long to reach December from there."

"No," Vash said flatly, "it's too dangerous."

"Vash." He glanced down to where she stood, her arms crossed and angrily tapping her foot. She hadn't been assigned to track Vash the Stampede for nothing. He sighed.

"Alright. But promise me that you'll all go back after we make it that far, okay?"

Everyone in the room nodded their consent, though only a few of them really meant it.

It was sunset. Everyone had settled down after packing, which meant they were either sleeping or visiting inside somewhere. Frey stood in the middle of her room, her bag slung over her shoulder. She glanced around at it one more time, then lifted Michael's replacement window and stepped onto the fire escape Legato had sat on just a week before. As silently as possible, she climbed down it, stepping onto the soft dirt road. And she started on her way.

She had barely traveled a block when a voice interrupted her endeavor.

"What do you think you're doing?" She jumped, expecting to see Michael step out of the shadows. Thankfully, it was just Wolfwood. She sighed.

"You know I have to go, Mr. Wolfwood. They gave me one week to bring you here and return to them. I'm pushing my deadline as it is."

It was as if he hadn't heard her explanation. "That was pretty smart of you, convincing Michael and Alec to not come with us. You just didn't want them to get hurt, right?"

Frey smiled wryly. "Am I that apparent?"

"Yes."

She was silent, wishing for everything she was worth that he would just let her leave.

"Tell me, will you fight alongside Knives when Vash and I come to defeat him?" She froze, shocked. She hadn't even considered having to fight Vash or Wolfwood, or any of them for that matter. Seeing the effect his words were having on her, Wolfwood continued.

"Look kid, I don't care about how you know Knives or what you were doing with him. That's your business. But you obviously want nothing to do with him, or at least I think so . . ."

"Of course!" Frey said, surprised he would even suggest anything otherwise, "It's not like I want to go back."

"Then why are you?"

She turned on him, this time angry. And Wolfwood got the first taste of what his son had been dealing with for weeks now.

"I don't have a choice, Wolfwood!" she yelled, her eyes glowing like hot embers. "If I don't go back, our deal is off. What would you do?"

Wolfwood let his cigarette drop from his mouth and crushed it under his brown shoe. "Nineteen years ago I was one of them, kid," he answered, not looking at her, "and leaving them cost me my life." Frey fell back a step, a long past conversation with Michael running through her head again. That's right . . . he was apprenticed to Chapel.

"Believe me, if I could die to escape them, I would in a second." Her statement made Wolfwood's eyes widen, her conviction being deeper than he thought. "But in this case, I won't just be putting myself in danger if I don't join them. They'll kill you, and probably the others, too." Wolfwood half-smiled.

"Don't you think they still wanted to kill Vash after I was dead? You know kid, he isn't called the humanoid typhoon for nothing. We'd all be willing to fight for you, if you'd just let us. We won't let anything bad happen."

Frey tried to retort, but found herself unable to. His argument was temptingly convincing. Wolfwood saw that he had achieved his purpose, as she was at least considering it. He turned to return to the hotel.

"Take your time in making your decision. But if you do go, I think everyone else at least deserves to know why you're leaving." Frey cringed, remembering her promise to him to tell the others "eventually." And she was chagrined to admit that he was right. She couldn't just disappear again.

"Think about it," Wolfwood said, leaving it at that. In a few moments he had disappeared. Frey ran a hand through her hair, sighing deeply and looking up at the sky.

"Stupid priest. You just had to do that, didn't you?"