A/N: I just want to keyboard mash right now. Soooo much frustration with how this chapter turned out. Doesn't help that's it's been like nearly an entire year since the last update. Read and see what you think I guess. I know it's not a very long chapter. I was working entirely from memory here on the characterizations. It's been like a millennia since I've seen the show.

-coldchik

They say the path a man's life follows is a direct result of only two things -- fate and choice. In his case, both had always seemed to work against him…even from the very beginning. Nicholas D. Wolfwood had taken his first screaming breath in the mud of a ditch, in the dead of night twenty-seven years ago, the bastard child of a young runaway and a cavalryman.

He was certain his mother had intended to erase him that night. Destroy this writhing evidence of her worst mistake yet, before the judgment of society fell upon her. And he never begrudged her for it. He knew what it felt like to be that lost, trying to cover sin with sin. But for some reason she hadn't had the nerve to do it. She never said why. Merely appeared crying in front the church doors at sunrise the next morning with an infant in her arms. The only thing she had told the nuns about his father was that he'd been a young soldier named David Wolfwood, killed a few months prior in a mission to free a nearby town from a murderous gang who'd overrun it. It was never clear if the two had been in love or not.

On the spot, his mother had given him the name of Nicholas. It meant "victory of the people" oddly enough. He was the one that added a middle name later himself. In his heart it would always stand for his father's name, but he never thought it anything official. The young woman's name had been Christine. Said to be a pretty one with long raven hair and the saddest blue eyes. She left town soon after. She was killed only one week later when a robbery took place at a bar she'd found temporary work in three towns over.

The few resulting years he'd spent in the church orphanage had been the only attempt at a normal childhood he'd ever known. The only time he'd had real peace. But there wasn't enough money for them to care for him indefinitely. He hadn't wanted to leave, but when they'd found a guardian for him, that'd been it. He left town the very next day. And what an actor that man had been. He'd fooled everyone with that fake father bit. When really all he'd wanted was a disposable errand boy for his arms dealings with the local gangs. Sometimes Nick had done what he was told and sometimes he hadn't. The beatings came regardless. Sometimes by the man's fists…sometimes by the butt of a rifle or anything else readily available.

But no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Nicholas bled or ached, he could never cry. And that always infuriated the sick bastard, but for Wolfwood it symbolized something even worse. He couldn't understand it then, but that was how he had first started to realize there was something wrong inside him. Something that maybe would have never shown itself if that bastard hadn't kept on. But of course he didn't stop. He never would unless someone forced him. Nicholas was seven years old when he became that someone. In the gasp of one gunshot -- one monster died, while the other was created.

It wasn't long until the criminals they'd been going between caught word of their dealer's downfall…and his unusual executioner. It'd only been a few hours later when Nick was snatched up and found himself standing silently in front the desk of one of the worst bosses in the region. That was the day he'd met Chapel. Technically the day he'd first been recruited into the Gung-Ho Guns himself. He'd had nowhere else to go and he doubted they would have let him walk away even if he'd wanted to. By then all that mattered was surviving. Things were no longer black and white. He was taken in and trained constantly from then on. Year after year, it all came disturbingly easy to him. But there was no guilt nor pride in the actions he took, he was just the best and that's all there was to it. At sixteen he had received the cross-punisher. By eighteen he had mastered it. He walked the planet for years, being feared and leaving trails of blood in his wake.

He was untouchable. And he'd mistaken that for true strength. He'd thought he understood it all. The cruel nature of man and this torn world they inhabited. You had to claw your way to the top and you had to fight to remain there. Fight or fall beneath those more ruthless than yourself. But then he'd met the other three…and they'd left him with no illusions of what kind of man he'd really become. One who'd given up all hope for the future far too soon, a murderer with far too many excuses. And for the first time in his life he had felt both regret and guilt. He'd been afraid and he'd fallen to his knees in tears. All those ones he'd never been able to cry before. He'd wanted forgiveness and a second chance. So what did this -- this that was happening now. What could it mean?

The priest blinked again, turning his head slightly. The curtains were drawn back from the window and his eyes widened to try and grasp the depth of the sight before him. Sunlight…and a clear blue sky.

The door flung open sending the little welcome bell into wild vibrations. All conversation came to a momentary halt as the woman in the white hospital uniform hesitated in the doorway, catching her breath. Her eyes were smiling when she finally blurted out the news she had brought. The pretty waitress with the scar on her face seemed frozen in time before giving a look of disbelief as one of the other girls took her tray from her.

Lana slapped a rag down on the bar after another silent moment. "Well go on, girl!"

Milly nodded briefly, dodging fluidly around the nurse and out the door at such a speed it left the others in awe.

It was like those times. Running to the graveyard. Running to the church. Seemed like she'd never get there. The door was already open when she finally reached his hallway, and she slowed as she approached it. The doctor was just stepping out and gave her an approving nod as she paused briefly to see if it was alright. She was more than anxious now, almost sick as the door shut behind her. She tried to still her now nearly panting breaths as the steel blue eyes connected silently with hers from beneath the unkempt black bangs.

For a moment he could only look at her. Thankful, disbelieving, and euphoric all at once. But of course looking was never enough. Eyes could lie. By all logic, this shouldn't be happening. He needed to know it really was. Nick leaned forward with obvious effort. "Honey…"

And that was all it took to melt her remaining defenses. All her strength fell away at the mere sound of the long absent voice and she came quickly, falling upon the bed and throwing her arms around him despite his condition. If it hurt, he didn't complain.

He held her the best he could as she sat beside him, beginning to cry into his chest. Wolfwood pressed his face against her hair while she murmured his name through more tears. There was no word to describe this feeling. Nick remained motionless, holding her just like that…all the way until she finally began to grow quiet again. When he was certain she was going to be alright, he raised his head slightly away from hers, looking down as she glanced up. "I don't understand…I was dead wasn't I? I felt myself die, big girl…"

Her eyes were still watery and she almost looked guilty in the face of his confused stare. "Me and Meryl, we…I knew something had happened, and we went looking…at the church. We found you." She hid her face against his chest again. The confession came easier when she didn't have to look directly into those deep blue eyes. "I broke my promise, I know it was wrong. But I just knew Nick. I knew you were in trouble…I knew you needed me." Her voice started to break again. "When we got there you were already gone…you weren't breathing, there wasn't even a pulse! But I didn't want you to go. I brought you back…maybe it was selfish, I don't know. I just didn't want you to go!" Everything went silent again and she felt herself growing uneasy. When she could bear it no longer Milly finally pulled away from him, looking back up. His eyes were narrowed, but tears were still trying to build within them.

He was crying again. Still a sensation he wasn't yet use to. But he could only do it in front of her…for her. Lord, was it really true? Milly had saved him, endured the sight of his mangled body in front the altar and brought him back for his second chance? If that was in fact what this was. How he hoped so. But she was so pure of heart -- even saving him had left her with guilt. Maybe she thought he would have rather have gone on to paradise. If only she could know what his last thoughts had really been. He had never wanted to leave her for a second and to hell with the stupid promise. His words were deliberate and rough, almost as if his vocal cords had fallen weak with disuse. "Please hun…please don't look that way. You did the right thing. I didn't want to go…and forget the promise. I broke mine too." He gave her his best wise guy smirk to drive the point home and her whole face lit up as she hugged him all over again.

"I missed you so much Nick! I've just…I've been so scared waiting."

He smiled knowing the feeling was mutual. But exactly how much time had passed? Where were Vash and Meryl? What of the last Gung-Ho Guns? There was still a lot he needed to be filled in on. "Um, exactly how long have you been waiting, big girl?" He vaguely remembered the doctor telling him some of these things just a few minutes ago, but he'd still been in a daze then. His mind was just starting to come back to full speed now that he was in her presence.

Her demeanor changed in an instant as she suddenly looked very uncomfortable again. "About two months now..." That's right, she had just passed the two month mark. In all the excitement, she had completely forgotten. Running like she had wouldn't have hurt the baby would it? She prayed not, after all she still wasn't showing so it couldn't be big enough to bounce around and hurt itself right? Somehow in her heart she knew she hadn't done any damage, but she'd be sure to never to do anything that careless again. What if she had fallen?

Wolfwood's eyes darkened at the odd reaction and then he straightened up even more, looking at her intently. "What is it, Milly? What's happened?"

Her cheeks went a little red as she looked down in embarrassment. How could he read her so well? One look and he always knew when something was wrong. True, he deserved to know as soon as possible…but she just didn't know how to tell him, or how he might react. "It isn't anything bad…at least I don't think so."

He frowned slightly, frustrated at his own confusion. "Mill…what are you hiding?"

The tall girl looked up at him innocently. "Here."

Nick blinked as she took one of his hands and pressed the palm of it against her stomach.

Milly looked down then back up at his questioning eyes. He always looked so much younger when he didn't understand something. She gave a sort of sad smile. "Looks like we won't have to pretend this time, darling..."

And suddenly every other thought, every concern, every anything instantly erased from his mind as he stared back into those innocent sky blues in complete disbelief. They hadn't. They couldn't. "Are you…" A long pause. "…absolutely sure?"

She nodded, moving a couple stray bangs behind her ear.

Wolfwood took a sobering breath, suddenly staring down at the bed as the shock and guilt began to settle within him. They'd only made love twice. Both times he'd been so fixated on the prospect of having her, responsibility had fallen to the way side. The only times in his life where he hadn't protected himself actually. He of all people knew the consequences of carelessly birthing children into environments not suitable for them…and yet here he was, a man who'd done exactly that. He looked up as she hugged her arms gently around his waist.

"I was afraid too at first…"