Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, or any of its characters, and I do not own any characters that any of my characters may resemble in name, description, or behavior.

Chapter 3: He Who Can Raise the Dead

"A little to the left … No, a little back right … No, you had it better before … Perfect, now lower it." Alex instructed to the crew assigned to unloading their transportation from the steamer.

"Are you sure that it matters this much where the car is lowered?" Vash asked, confused at the large amount of commotion being made over his car.

"Slower … Slower … Oh, yeah, I'm sure. I don't want to need to repair the car in the middle of the desert. It's hard enough to fix a car without having to worry about dehydration. NO! WAY TOO FAST! SLOW DOWN!"

"If you're sure about this, I'll leave you to it."

"There. It's done. Now for my bike. It shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

A couple of hours later, Alex had driven both Vash's car, and his motorcycle, next to the hotel which they were going to spend the night. As he got off the motorcycle, a gunfight broke out across the street; one local gang appeared to have infringed upon the territory of another. Suddenly, nobody in either group had guns anymore, yet there were a few people gravely injured.

An old man inside the café the gunfight broke out in front of walked out, put his bag down next to one of the people who was shot, opened it, and took out a bottle of silvery liquid. He poured it into each bullet wound inside the gangster, and then moved on to the next one. Once he was done with all of them, he went back into the café, and all of the wounded gangsters started to get up, apparently unharmed, just extremely confused.

Vash walked outside, having been looking out of the window of his hotel room before. "That's odd. I've never seen people recover from such severe wounds before. I'd like to know how he did that."

Alex, oblivious, muttered "I know that flask. I know that elixir. I know that man. How is he still alive?" He then walked into the café. Vash followed, curious.

"Hey doc. Long time no see, eh?" said Alex, amiably.

"Oh, it's you. I wondered when I'd be seeing you again," said the aforementioned 'doc.' "How long has it been? Twenty, thirty years?"

"It's been longer than that, I can assure you."

"I know that, I just don't want to alarm the rest of the guests here at this fine establishment."

"How long do I have to stand here before you introduce me to your friend, Alex?" asked Vash, extremely annoyed and impatient.

"Oh, sorry, didn't notice you there," apologized Alex. "This is a friend of mine, Dr. Aesculapius. He's the best doctor I've ever seen. It's even rumored that he can raise the dead with his medicines."

"Oh, I've never done that much," replied Aesculapius. "I usually constrain my patients to those still breathing. Who's the broom-head next to you?"

"I'm Vash. Vash the Stampede. Don't worry; I'm not half as bad as rumors say I am. I've only destroyed two cities, and nobody died."

"It's been nice seeing you again, W have to go now. We're on a trip, and we have to get ready to leave first thing in the morning," said Alex, in an attempt to calm down the clientele of the café.

"Where are you leaving to? I've been looking for a ride to Sky City, to meet up with a friend of mine?" asked Aesculapius.

"What a coincidence, we're headed to Sky City too," replied Vash. "I bet we can spare an extra seat. I doubt it's that far."

The group went back to the hotel, where Meryl and Millie were lying down in their room, attempting to get some rest after standing by a concessions stand for twenty-four hours straight. Alex went down to the reception desk, and rented another room for Aesculapius. He then went upstairs, and the guys followed the girls' example, and passed out on the beds.