The next time consciousness and I were on speaking terms, there was a lot of yelling.

"Where did he go?" the doctor, the nurse, an obvious politician and the Police Chief all asked me in turn. A lot of yelling. I thought about punching people, but I reminded myself that I wasn't in the best of health, and that there were a lot of them besides.

"Please, Father. We need to find out where he went to." The young nurse said, as words besides the repeated phrase started blooming in my ears. "Did he tell you where he was going?"

"No…" I said around rubbery lips, "He didn't tell me a Goddamn thing."

"I told you." The police captain's voice said, "Useless. Even if he wasn't drugged to the gills."

"I'm sure we could get something out, if you just gave us some more time with him." That was the Doctor.

"Don't waste your time, Doc. So long as the Stampede doesn't come back, I don't see a reason to go chasing after him."

Everyone suddenly left after that. It seemed like something important had just happened, so I let myself wake up. After I had finally struggled my way back into full consciousness, I realized what it meant. Vash had escaped. Without me. I bit into my thumb, one of the few uninjured parts of my body, to keep myself from crying.

The needle didn't come back after that. I supposed they thought they were punishing me, and in the end they did. As the remaining pain came back, in full force for the first time in what I guessed were days, I began to miss that little nothingness desperately.

They considered me well enough to leave the hospital three days later. I didn't exactly agree with the decision, but I wasn't consulted. I was given some pills, and told never to come back. I did have the bounty money left, a so I got myself a used car. Wasn't the best car on the lot, but it one I could easily afford and the dealer even threw in a full tank of gas. He knew I had to get out of town fast. Everyone did.

The aching of my body wouldn't have been so bad if I had been with him. Or at the very least knew where he was. I thought I had been glad to give up the priesthood when he had been sitting at my bedside, but what had it gotten me? I was never going to find him again. Coincidence, I could believe, but miracles didn't happen, at least not to me.

I was an ile or two out of the town, when I pulled the car off the road and put it in park.

Where exactly was I going?

No, really. Where was I going?

December was firmly out of my grasp, and May was behind me. Vash had been right. I really was sheltered. I had no idea where the nearest town was. How was I supposed to make it out here on my own? What could I possibly do to earn a living?

I fumbled in my bag and finding a pack of smokes and my lighter, I began to think. Perhaps think was too strong a word. Panic with discretion seemed more appropriate. After my first smoke burned down, I used it to light my next one and kept thinking.

Nothing.

Running out of options, I decided to try the only thing I was trained for. I leaned on the wheel, careful to avoid the horn, and clasped my hands. Prayed.

Heavenly Father, grant me with the insight of direction. Let me find safe harbor for the night. Let me find Vash so that I can tell him whatever I need to tell him.

And failing that let me find him anyway so I can punch him in the face.

Hard.

Asshole.

Amen.

"Father Wolfe?"

I hadn't heard the car stop, and as soon as I heard a human voice, I figured I was in for a beating. But I was surprised to see the little nurse from the hospital walking towards me.

"Well, hello there pretty lady." I said. Then blinked at myself. Pretty lady?

"Hello Father. I'm surprised you're still here."

"I'm not really. I just had to find someplace quiet." I pulled out another cig and focused on meeting it with my lighter's flame, "Preferably with a smoking section."

She smiled, but she seemed nervous, "Where are you going, Father?"

"Not sure. I'm afraid I don't really know the area. Any suggestions?"

"Well Father, Augusta's on the eastern road, and New Oregon is far to the south. And if you want to make the long trip, July is to the Northwest, but it's at least a few days drive from here."

"What's the nearest place where I could get a bed for the night?"

"There's a town called Despair on the Southwest road. You could get there in an hour or so. But…"

"But what?" I asked as the smoke raked through my lungs.

"… well… If I were you, I'd go to Augusta."

"Why's that? They got better hotels?"

"Well, yes. But, well… it's really nice there this time of year."

"You've been there before?" I asked.

"No, but your blond friend said that he liked it."

What? "Did he now? When did he say that?"

"When the police were getting ready to take him back. We were alone for a minute, and he smiled at me, started talking. Said our little town was so nice this time of year, but he knew that Augusta was much better…"

He was in Augusta? No, it wasn't certain… but he COULD be in Augusta. "Strange, you wouldn't go to the police with that."

"No, I wouldn't. She seemed defiant, "I don't think he deserved it. Any of it."

Then he was in Augusta.

I leaned forward, and gave the girl a chaste peck on her cheek. When I pulled back, she was blushing, but oddly enough, I wasn't as annoyed at myself as I could have been. "So… how do I get on the Eastern road?"

He had been in Augusta. And he had been in Little Jersey. And he had been in the little town of Hope, where the withered innkeeper remembered him solely because he had been the only one to stay there in days. The innkeeper saw I was a fairly desperate man and for $$20 he was nice enough to let me search through what was left in the room.

Why was Vash moving so fast? Was he running from me?

There was a number for a men's tailoring shop in LR town, only an hour from here. And it was on the road the innkeeper said he had left on. I refueled at the local station and took a chance.

I had been taking a lot of those lately. Chancing that he could be going somewhere, and following my gut without questioning it. It had always been right. It was starting to scare me. Why did I keep getting everything right? Why was it so easy to track him?

The last hotel I checked out in LR town was the only one with rooms still available. Tired, and running out of options, I took the innkeeper up on his sales pitch. I dutifully signed the paper work as 'Wolfwood' and paid for in cash. My room was cleaner than most places I'd been lately, and the big heavy ashtray looked like it had been designed by someone who actually smoked.

After trying to fall asleep for a few minutes, I realized, somewhat uneasily, that I really wanted was a drink.

I had only tasted alcohol twice in my life, both times on a bet, and it had never appealed to me. At the time, I had thought it was another sign that I was hell-bound to go into the priesthood. Even now, there was no reason for it. I wasn't depressed, I wasn't anxious, I just wanted booze.

And not just any booze. Bourbon. Why?

And then again, why not? The way Vash had drunk before it might be a good idea to check out the bars and liquor stores. And no one was going to recognize me as a priest here.

No Nick. Not a priest anymore.

Fuck, I really did need a drink when I remembered that.

The hotel bar only served beer and whiskey, but they directed me to a liquor store. The name of the bourbon I gave the clerk I had never heard before in my life. It sprouted from my mouth like I was speaking in tongues. And they had it. Pricey, but it wasn't breaking the bank. The guy actually complimented me as I was paying for it.

I had asked both guys about Vash and gave them a description of what he looked like, but no one had seen him.

As I got back to the hotel I pulled out the bottle and looked at it. The design of the label, the cut of the bottle, none of it looked familiar, but I remembered it by name.

I thought about taking an experimental swig, but it was better when you drank from a glass, on the rocks.

Fuck, I had to stop that.

The glasses I had found were clean, and it took a $$1.50 in change to free enough ice from the icemaker. The bourbon tasted like liquid incense. Good stuff. I would have to get it again, if I remembered.

And I couldn't even drink the entire thing before I passed out.

… I told Vash he was a lightweight.

The massive hangover that was playing a steel drum band on my skull cavity was blanketing. The sunlight streaming in through the window made it impossible to not get up.

When I did, carefully shielding my eyes, I realized it was too quiet. No one was below on the street. I waited, but no one knocked on the door. Taking a peek out into the hallway I realized there was no one in it.

Clutching my head, I left the room and made my way to the lobby. The only people there were a desk clerk and an older man, cleaning and loading a shotgun.

"Hey, do you guys sell aspirin?"

"Aspirin? Why are you fooling around with aspirin?" the clerk asked.

"This headache ain't going away all by itself."

"Screw the headache kid," the old codger said, "We'll all be dead soon, and you won't have to worry a lick about if your head hurts."

"Don't you know what's happening?" The clerk said, "People are disappearing! Half the town wasn't there when we woke up this morning. Most of those who were left have already started driving to September!"

"So, then, why are you guys still here?" I asked.

"There's a rumor that Vash the Stampede is here! Who knows what he'll do to this place if we just leave it be!"

"I'd start running for the hills if I were you, sonny. You don't look like the fighting type."

"That's a no on the aspirin, then…"

They both looked like they wanted to shoot me, but were debating about wasting bullets.

I walked away, heading to the bar in the very back of the hotel. If I couldn't get painkillers, I'd have to settle for a little hair of the dog.

You get rid of a hangover fast when someone's shooting at you.

I dodged and threw myself behind a card table, throwing it to the ground for extra protection. When the gunfire finally died I peeked up over the rim, carefully.

Vash, the only person in the room, had his face pressed into the bar, his left hand draped over a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. As he turned his head to look, a long line of drool, connecting him to the bar, ran down his face. His hair had been cut back a few inches so the Mohawk could stand on its own, and his coat fit better than it had in May.

"You boys keep it down back there!" The desk clerk bellowed.

"Pheh." He said, quickly putting the gun, MY gun no less, away. "S'only you."

I marched over to him, and punched the back of his head as hard as I could. "What do you MEAN it's only me!" I asked as he was lying in a newly formed crater on the bar, "Why is everyone trying to kill everyone else in this town? And where did all the rest of the people go!"

Vash pulled his head free, started to talk, and then made a face. "Wait... which questions do you want me to answer?"

"Start with the last one." I took the whiskey bottle from him and knocked back the last swallow.

"Hey! That was MINE!"

"Oh stop it. We're in a bar for Christ's sake!"

"Says you!" he said, trying to lick the bottom of his glass, "I was just sitting here minding my own business… and now you want me to answer questions? I'm practically sober!"

Jumping up on the counter, I reached and produced a fresh bottle. I uncorked it, and then paused before I poured. "The people?"

"They were… given orders. Telepathically. It's happened before, but I'm pretty sure this time they're alive." I poured about two fingers for him, and he knocked them back, fast.

"Then why are there still people here?" I asked

"He's not as strong as he used to be. That or he doesn't like looking into the minds of common drunks, now that he has to do it himself. Everyone who's still here was having a lot of fun one way or another last night."

"And who is He?"

Vash looked at his empty glass, and then looked at me, expectantly. I poured, he drank.

"My brother," he said.

"Your brother."

"Yes. I'm sorry. I should have come here sooner. If I hadn't stopped in May city, you wouldn't be here and I…"

My hand easily found his shoulder, and he stopped. Relaxed. My hand found its way into his hair, and he didn't seem to mind at all.

I scooted a bit closer to him, and his head found its way into my lap. I was startled at first, but as I began to calm down it felt good. Better than good. Natural. Normal. And he shivered in a way that was far from innocent as I started to play with the fine hairs against the back of his neck. A hand wrapped around my leg, just above the knee, and began to kneed. He knew what he was doing, electricity course through my body and collected in places I hadn't used in a long time. It took me a while before I was breathing normally again.

"I think you'd better come with me" he said.

My heart was trying to tear itself out of my chest as I closed and locked the door to my room.

"Vash… you'll go easy on me, right?" I turned around and saw him shoving fistfulls of clothes into my beat-up duffel bag.

"…What are you doing?"

"Getting you packed."

"What!"

"I need you to get out of town. It's going to be coming soon, and I want you to be on safe ground when it does."

"You're doing this again! Fuck Vash! "

He pointedly ignored me as he packed my suitcase.

And I pointedly grabbed him and kissed him as hard as I could. I tried hard to ignore that he wasn't kissing me back.

The way he pushed away pissed me off. "No. It's… not fair." He muttered.

"Vash." I whimpered.

"If you... and I… I'd just be thinking about him."

"I don't care," I told him.

"You're only saying that now."

"I said, I don't care!" I clutched at my head. The hangover was coming back like gangbusters, "Jesus. Don't make me beg."

He was backing away to the door.

"Fine. Go fuck yourself." I leaned back against the wall and looked away.

He stopped, and looked back at me.

We tackled each other as we met halfway.

God, it felt good to have someone kiss you back.

His hands found the back of my head, kissing me and pressing against me with equal fire.

Oh, that one moment almost made up for everything.

I wanted to start crying in relief, I wanted someone to draw blood to prove that it was real, I just wanted worse than anything before in my life.

The kisses that hit my lips and face over and over again, felt like water after days in the desert. This time his hands were pressed through my clothes everywhere and I loved him for it as I desperately tried to match him. Ah Vash. Vash, Vash, Vash….

Before I could think, I found myself happily wedged into a corner, my legs thrown around his hips. As we ground against each other, I abruptly realized what this would mean in terms of mechanics in this new situation. I was startled to realize that I wasn't nervous, and getting annoyed things weren't going faster. I tried to find button holes on his coat, but it was as hard as it looked. He, however, had found all my zippers and seams easily. It was a near miracle that I still had most of my clothes on when he came across the scar above my hip. He felt it, then looked at it, then stared. I heard him murmur, scared. His palm fit over the scar tissue perfectly.

He looked up at me, confused as I had only seen in a child, smiled, sputtered, and then began to wail.

I tried to hold him, but he clamped down on me hard. Clutched me, unwittingly bringing pain. I clung back with whatever strength I had as he started screaming then laughing then crying again as he still clung to me.

I wasn't frightened. It just felt good to let him trust me with something like this. I was breathless for reasons I couldn't explain.

And then he put me down.

Under the fading light, his skin was stained in the colors of the coming sunset. "Nick, you need to leave now."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Please Nick. Just go."

The sheer anger of that moment, that cold command drove me senseless and it wasn't until I just outside the town limits that I stopped.

I got out of the car, and wasted time screaming obscenities at the sky. Then I kicked the car, over and over, until I hurt my toe.

More or less finally cooled down, I looked towards the town. I leaned up against the car and smoked.

The sun went down, and sunset finally came over the land. The few lights still on in the town flickered on.

I watched it all with furious detachment. I wasn't going to help. I was going to stay out of it, just like he wanted me to. I would wait until the explosions stopped, then I'd go in and find what was left of him and bury him.

But nothing happened. No explosions, no nothing.

Maybe the last 'go' was more than a request to leave the town…

And suddenly there was a guy standing next to me. Hadn't been there a moment ago.

His hair was as gray as an old mans, scraped back into a long, thin rope down his back, but his face was young and clearly stronger than I was. He wore a funky black and white trench coat. The jumpsuit beneath it was similar to Vash's, but the serene smile that seemed tattooed on his face wasn't.

His hand clamped down on my shoulder like a vice, and held onto me as he walked us slowly back into town.

"Hey! What the… what are you doing?"

He threw me into the dirt in front of the inn, and planted a heavy foot between my shoulder blades. "Call him."

"What?"

"Call the Stampede." He said, "He'll only fight if he thinks someone else is in danger." He emphasized his point by stepping down into my rib cage. I screamed in pain and the man's ears perked up.

"Good. Now call him by name."

I got as much air as I could into me and yelled, "VASH! RUN!"

He was outside in an instant, the saloon doors flapping behind him like they were trying to catch up. He stopped to pose on the porch, his coat flapping in a massive wind that went unfelt. He looked scared and not more than a little disappointed at seeing me coughing my brains out in the dust.

The man in white and black smiled harder, and pulled something from his coat. It hit the ground with a clank and shimmered in the dirt with dull chrome brilliance. It was a gun, I could see as much. A massive revolver with an extra bar of metal that sat on top of the barrel that didn't seem to have any real purpose.

Vash looked like death as soon as his eyes widened in recognition.

"Where is he?" Vash asked.

The guy smiled.

"Where's your father, Sen?"

"You think FATHER did all this? I must not know my own strength." He threw his head back, "I did this. I did it all. Did I succeed?"

"Sen," he said to the man, "Sen, why?"

"It's what must be done… uncle."

They stared at each other for a while before Vash finally stepped off the porch and into the street. Vash's foot flew out and the gun sailed to the left, down the street. The guy didn't look too pleased.

"Let him go." Vash said.

"Still fraternizing with the humans?" he asked, "Don't you know how much trouble that is?" His foot pressed down into my back and I couldn't breathe.

"Of course I do." Vash said, "You're proof enough of that."

There was plenty of time for me to have my life flash before my eyes and tell myself I was a moron for not leaving as Vash and Sen stared each other down. Then Sen's foot finally lifted and I scrambled to get away.

Vash said something behind me, and Sen gave a cold, hard laugh. I saw a smooth bright movement out of the corner of my eye. Vash shouted.

Being shot hurts like a bitch.

It's not just the sharp metal ripping through your body. Because the bullet spins to get it's speed, your body gets burnt as well as cut. It's a wholly unique experience and one I hoped never to repeat.

I hit the ground hard, and played dead for a few seconds. It was only my left arm, and somehow I knew it wasn't that serious but I was still angry and hurting like hell.

I was bleeding through my old priest's cloak, defiling church property. If I wasn't doomed for hell yet, I was sure to be going there now.

"Why did you do that!" A strange section of my brain told me that Vash sounded really nice when he was screaming.

"Because I'm not my father! Even if he gave into the humans, I won't! And I won't let you give in, not when you're the only person who can help me teach them all!"

"Your mother wouldn't want you to do this!"

"My mother is DEAD! Don't try to sway me with her memory! I'll purge every ounce of flesh and bone tainted by her humanity if it will help me. I will not die at the hands of these filthy… things!"

Something was poking into my side, and I rolled over.

The gun shone in the dust, clean as divine deliverance. Oh god…

"No matter how you fell about them, they are still a part of you. Life of any kind is precious. And I will never join you in destroying the human race."

"Then you have destroyed yourself." The click of changing cylinders sounded loud on the bare street, as Sen aimed for Vash's head.

Oh God, Vash… He was just making this thing angrier… and I realized I had somehow gotten to my feet, that gun heavy in my hand, useless.

But Vash didn't move an inch. He just kept staring at Sen as if that was going to change his mind.

My hands moved and the gun was aimed and fired before I could think.

Sen dropped his gun and went down.

I stood there, clutching the thing with two hands, the injured one making the piece shake like a leaf. It took me a second to realize he was still moving.

His shoulder. I had only hit his shoulder.

Praise God.

…But I HAD been aiming for his head. Was the sight off or something?

Damn, this thing was heavy for a gun.

… but how in hell would I know that?

Vash was in front of me. He looked shocked. Shocked and disappointed.

"Why?" he was cold. Emotionless.

"I wanted to save you for a change… I guess."

"No Nick. That was wrong. You were wrong to do that."

"He would have shot you." I said, a whine creeping into my voice, "I saved your life."

"It didn't have to end like this. There's always more than one answer to every problem. You should have thought before you acted."

"But I didn't have enough time! How am I supposed to think up alternatives when someone's pointing a gun at you?"

"It was the wrong choice Nick."

"How is it the wrong choice! How Vash? I didn't kill him and you're alive! I call that a pretty good decision!"

"It was the wrong choice."

Even the throbbing wound on my left arm didn't hurt as badly as those five little words.

Even my good hand was shaking like a leaf as I dragged myself back to the car.

"Nick."

I bowed my head, trying to fight back the tears. Tune him out, tune him out, just get away.

"Nick, wait…"

I screamed in pure pain as I turned. Vash looked as startled as I was, when I took off the buttons on his sleeves from 20 paces. I stood there, tears streaming down my cheeks, good arm still outstretched.

"You said you never fired a gun before." Vash said.

I thought about that. Realization came and I found myself looking at the gun funny. "But I haven't. I mean, I hadn't. I…huh." I tucked the barrel into the front of my pants and kept walking to the car.

"Nick… no Nick wait…"

There was a scream behind me. Sen was finally realizing that he was in pain.

"Oh god… Uncle… Uncle, help me!"

I heard Vash hesitate behind me, but I kept walking.

"Uncle! Uncle, please!"

There was a pause between the three of us that could have spanned a hundred years.

He went to Sen.

I waited until I was alone on the highway before I pulled over and started to scream.