Ok, here's the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this along the way, your feedback has been greatly appreciated. I hope you all enjoy the end.

Disclaimer: for the last time, I don't own Trigun.

LIVING MEMORIES

-A Trigun Story-

Chapter 20: I've Never Been Good at Saying Goodbye

"Frey, get up! We've got to go, remember!"

Frey threw a pillow at Aidan and moaned. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a bit."

Aidan rolled her eyes. "Frey, don't you remember what today is?"

Frey's eyes flew open, and she bolted into a sitting position.

"Oh crap! Give me five minutes!"

"Needle Noggin, you are absolutely the worst best man ever!"

"What!" the blonde man whined.

"You're not even dressed yet! The wedding is in half-an-hour! Get your butt in gear!"

Vash smiled boyishly. "I can make it up to you," he offered, gently swinging the bottle he had just pulled out of his jacket back and forth.

"I'm not getting drunk right now!"

"Oh come on, just a little."

"No."

"But it's sooo goood . . ."

"You already had some of that, didn't you?"

"Please?"

Wolfwood caved. "Okay, just one glass." He watched as Vash poured it, then lifted it in a toast.

"To your wedding day," he said.

Wolfwood wiped the sweat from his brow and loosened his collar. "Right."

They drained the glasses.

"So Needle Noggin, when is your big day finally going to be?"

"Asking her tonight."

"Milly, you look beautiful."

Milly just smiled as Meryl arranged her veil. The white dress was wide and flowing, trailing off the stool she stood on and across the floor for several feet. She took a deep breath and pushed a rebellious strand of hair that had escaped the piled curls on her head behind her ear. Noticing it, Meryl quickly pulled out a single white beret and pinned it back. She stepped back, hands on her hips.

"Perfect."

Milly stepped off the stool and sat down on it, shaking with nerves.

"What do you think he's doing right now?"

"Probably getting drunk with Vash," Meryl answered matter-of-factly.

Milly sighed, but smiled. "I just can't believe this is happening, Meryl."

Meryl smiled genuinely. "Me neither, Milly."

"When are you and Vash going to get married, Meryl?" she asked bluntly.

Meryl's eye twitched. "Me and Vash! Don't be ridiculous! I could never marry that ridiculous and conceited of a man!"

"Oh."

Somewhat put-off by how easily Milly accepted that, Meryl continued. "It's not like I hate him or anything, Milly, but honestly, can you imagine? Being married to him?"

"I guess you're right."

"I mean, I could never do that. My career would go down the toilet, and it's not like he could provide for-"

"But you love him, don't you Meryl?"

Meryl's face flushed and she turned sharply on her heel away from Milly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Does my hair look okay?"

"It looks fine, Aidan."

"Are you sure?"

She turned to the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of her figure. She smoothed her long, baby blue bridesmaid's dress, then spun, the light material swishing around her feet. Alec smiled.

"You're acting like you're the one getting married," he commented with a crooked smile.

"I know," she said somewhat apologetically, "but I'm just nervous. I know I shouldn't be, I mean, I just have to stand there and smile and hold some flowers, but-"

Alec cut her off by placing a finger to her lips. "You look beautiful, Aidan. You're going to do great."

She smiled gratefully, not protesting when he slipped his arm around her waist and started to pull her towards the door. Alec reached out to grab the handle, but it turned before he could. The door burst open, and a livid young woman nearly ran into the two of them. She had short blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Aidan, where the heck is my thomas!"

Aidan cringed and covered her face with one hand, shaking her head. "Um . . ."

"Aidan . . ." the girl warned.

"It, it sort of got, er, stolen . . ."

"You lost it! Do you have any idea how much replacing it is going to cost me! I can't believe how irresponsible you are-"

Alec backed up innocently, bidding Aidan farewell with the pretext that he had something else to get done. He was saved when Michael walked through the door.

The two watched the heated exchange from the other side of the room. Alec sighed.

"Isn't she great?" he said, referring to Aidan. He elbowed Michael in the side. "I bet you're jealous."

"Alec, she's my cousin."

"Oh, right. Well if she wasn't I bet you'd be jealous."

"No. No offense to Aidan or anything, though."

Alec sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, I guess not. You prefer the kind of girl that has the power to kill you at any moment with no warning."

Michael shrugged. "What can I say?"

The wedding was beautiful. Vash actually pulled off the act of best man, with Meryl as the maid of honor. She, Carly, Aidan, and Frey all wore matching baby blue dresses. Jacob, who had probably become Frey's favorite kid from the orphanage, served as the ring-bearer. The audience was huge, consisting mainly of the families of Milly and Carly's nine other siblings. It was a simple wedding, and short, but it couldn't have been any sweeter. Milly and Wolfwood were both absolutely beaming. After the vows, "I do's," and the kissing of the bride, Wolfwood motioned to Michael, who stood to his left, next to Vash. The young man stepped forward, and Wolfwood placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Now it's official, son," he said smiling. "I hope I can live up to the kind of father you thought you had."

Michael smiled. "You already have, Dad." Milly grinned and hugged them both tightly.

"This is the happiest day of my life!"

Frey declined going to the reception, saying that she didn't feel well and needed some rest. She knew that everyone was so caught up in the festivities that they wouldn't miss her anyway.

Once back in the apartment that was now hers, permanently, she slipped off her blue gown and replaced it with her old baggy pants, T-shirt, and red jacket. She also brushed furiously at her ebony hair to remove the annoying curls and wiped off the excessive make-up she had been forced to wear. Refreshed, she collapsed onto her bed and picked up the framed photograph on the table at her bedside.

She sighed as she looked at it. It was a picture of her and Michael, shortly after they had returned from the ordeal with Knives. Aidan, Meryl, Milly, and Carly had managed to get her somewhat dressed up for a party Michael had taken her too. She was wearing a simple white dress that fell to her knees, which she hated, but she still loved the picture. She had her arm around Michael's neck, who was smiling but blushing like a tomato.

Abruptly she placed the picture face-down on the table again. She stood up and rummaged through one of her drawers for a few moments, quickly finding what she wanted. They were Vash's yellow sunglasses. She slipped them on. Then she grabbed the bag she had had since before she even met Michael and moved to her closet, shoving her few articles of clothing into the bag. She ran her fingers down the soft material of the white dress when she reached it, but was reminded that she wouldn't need it and hated it anyway and moved on. The last thing she put in was the picture, and her heart jumped to her throat as she zipped the brown material over Michael's smiling face.

She glanced around the room one more time. This was the first time in the last week that she had had this chance. She didn't want to take it. But she felt obligated to. The Gung-Ho Guns were still out there, including Moratus the necromancer. Vash had overlooked the fact that Knives could be revived. And if he came after them again, he would surely have an even more diabolical plan. They wouldn't be so lucky a second time around. Looking down, she walked to the door, and quietly closed it behind her.

Michael rounded the corner and was led onto his street. Immediately he saw Frey, her bag over her shoulder, standing in front of his house and watching it for the last time. She didn't react at his presence, and he wasn't sure if she had noticed him. He stopped a few yards away from her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I thought this was what you were up to."

Her gaze fell from his house to the ground. "I've never been good at saying goodbye."

"So don't."

She frowned, more out of sadness than anger. "I can't Michael, you know that. It's my fault you almost died. I don't want that to happen again."

"Frey, Knives is-"

"I don't care if he's dead, Michael. He could come back. Who do you think revived Legato and Rai-dei and your father? Besides, even if he didn't come back, I'm still dangerous. I don't have complete control of myself all of the time."

Michael shook his head. "Oh Frey, what are you thinking?"

"Don't patronize me," she said bitingly.

He stopped smiling, serious now. "None of that matters, Frey. If he ever came back, we'd all just take care of-"

Frey cut him off, fuming. "Don't you get it Michael! That's exactly what your father said! But you can't stop him. He'll be more determined than ever next time, and I just don't want to risk it."

"Frey, you're being irrational."

"Excuse me?"

"Just think about it. The Gung-Ho Guns probably just joined him because they were forced to. They're probably glad he's gone. I doubt they'll bring him back."

Frey glowered at his ignorance. "They aren't all like me, Michael. They're evil people. No, they're not even people. They're demons."

"Like you."

"Shut up."

"But it's true. You aren't really human either anymore."

"I don't care. I'm not like them."

Michael watched her suffering with a pain of his own. He didn't like describing her like that, but he wanted to make a point.

"Frey, you have no proof that they'll bring Knives back, or even attack us themselves. And even if they did, I don't understand why you're leaving."

"Because I don't want to be here when they do."

"Coward."

"I don't want to be used as a weapon against Vash again," she retorted.

Michael snorted sarcastically. "I never realized how conceited you are, Frey." He smiled and continued, seeing that he was getting under her skin as she glared at him. "Do you honestly think that you're the only one powerful enough to affect Vash in the way you did?"

"Stop it, Michael. You're ignorant to the whole situation. There were things in play that day that you don't know or understand."

He shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure you're the ignorant one." Frey slid her glasses down her nose, finally staring at him directly with her scathing glare.

"Think about it. You're not Knives' target, Frey. Vash is."

Frey's scowl faded slightly. She jumped as Michael took one of her hands in both of his. She hadn't even realized he was moving toward her.

"If Knives does come back to life, he'll continue coming after Vash whether you're here or not. Besides, you'll be safer with us, and your chances of being taken again by him will be significantly smaller."

"Or higher. If I stayed with you he'd know right where to find me."

"But he won't pull the same trick more than once. Vash won't be put into the same vulnerable position twice in a row. He's not that stupid. And it's not like you've got anywhere else to go, anyway. Alec's staying."

Frey looked away from his open and welcoming gaze, desperately trying to drown the one ray of hope Michael was giving her, not daring to accept it.

"But-"

"We all want you to stay, Frey," he interrupted. She looked back at him, her anger gone and replaced by apparent fragility on her face. She lost herself in his bright blue eyes as she watched him. He just stood patiently, waiting for the answer he was already almost sure of, and focusing on the eyes he had seen burn with fury practically melt in weakness.

A man sprinting by interrupted the silence of the moment, turning both of their heads. He skidded to a halt as he saw them, gasping for breath.

"Come quick!" he cried between deep gulps for air, "it's Vash the Stampede! He's here! If we don't stop him now, he'll kill us all!" Michael looked at Frey, smiling.

"Please?"

She hesitated for just a moment, then conceded with a slight nod and smile. Beaming, Michael removed one of his hands from hers, but with the other one laced his fingers through her own, squeezing reassuringly. She allowed it without protest, and silently let Michael pull her after the man, right at his side, to bail Vash out of whatever trouble he had gotten himself into this time.

He spoke through his thoughts as they ran, knowing she would hear. There are people that care about you Frey, but you're not going to find them anywhere else.

Yeah, yeah. But I'm still going to kill you for what you said about me back there when this is over.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

The End