TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!! WOO HOO! I HAVE SURVIVED ANOTHER YEAR! so here's my birthday present to EVERYBODY!

If you've forgotten...

- knives has fake arms.
- he is in the care of one milly stungun thompson.
- meryl is missing.
- vash is freaking.

The generators that ran off of plant cells had their own kind of resonance. It wasn't the vibrant song of the plants in their bulbs. The energy was siphoned off, so no living tissue existed inside the battery cells. From this distance, it was a quiet buzz, like the magnetic bias of an audio cassette...just a low hiss that was hard to detect against the background noise of the planet.

Vash could sense it just the same.

Knives was right when he said humans were absolutely dependent on their siblings, and normally, Vash would have sympathized…but right now, he was ecstatic. There were only two sources of plant energy close by. One source was New Oregon, about an hour straight ahead. Another pulled at him from the right, straight into the desert. It was a plant generator…a pretty big one.

On instinct, he turned abruptly and continued to drive at top speed.

He had been trying for hours to keep a clear mind, to keep from thinking about what could be happening to Meryl, but he just couldn't seem to stop himself. He'd seen so much death and destruction that it was frighteningly easy for him to imagine the same terrible things happening to her. He could see her screaming out for his help while they hurt her. Every scream he imagined made him hate himself a little more.

He'd told her to leave because he thought it would be safer for her! He thought it would be better if she were back in December. He hadn't even been concerned with random violence perpetrated by humans upon other humans. He'd been so wrapped up in his own pain, he hadn't even seen this possibility. He'd been so stupid. At least if she were around, he would have been able to keep an eye on her…

But Knives had almost killed her under his watch. Oh, and while Vash was unconscious and unable to protect her, she'd been forced to chop off Knives' arms to protect him. And then, of course, Vash himself had caught her up in his energy blast and altered her into something not entirely human.

God, he was just too useless for words. And he'd done everything in his power to push her away, too. He'd told her to leave. He hadn't even said goodbye. Part of the reason was because he was afraid if he said anything, he would have fallen apart right in front of her. Another part of him, though, hoped that it would hurt her enough that she'd never come looking for his sorry hide again.

Why had he done that? What kind of man was he? What kind of foolish idiot would hurt someone on purpose? He made himself sick. She had every right to despise him. She really wasn't safe with him at all.

But right now, he figured she was better off with him than with slavers. All he wanted to do was find her, hold her, and apologize over and over and over again.

Maybe she was still okay. Maybe they hadn't already snipped her Achilles tendons so she couldn't run away. Maybe they hadn't already beaten her black and blue. Maybe they hadn't bound her with barbed wire, hadn't tortured her. Maybe they hadn't torn off her clothes, hadn't humiliated her, hadn't raped her. Repeatedly. He couldn't get Knives' words out of his head.

He realized from the pain in his throat that he was screaming again.

How could anybody hurt her? She was such a good person…a truly good person. She cared even when she tried to deny it. She was fair. She believed in equality. Through her very actions, she tried to make the world a better place.

If anything happened to her, he was going to have a very hard time trying to convince himself that Knives didn't have a point. Rem hadn't sacrificed her life so that people could do this to each other. He didn't even know if he could keep his anger in check long enough to get her and get out. He was afraid of what he might do to them, the shadowy bad guys who were hurting his insurance girl inside his head.

All this time, he'd been so blind. He'd always thought he would be the cause of any harm that would come to her. The Gung-Ho-Guns, the angry mobs, his brother, himself… These were the usual suspects in his head. He hadn't thought for a second she could be hurt like this. It was one thing for humans to hurt him. He could handle it. He'd done horrible things. It was his arm that destroyed July. He deserved the hatred he experienced. But Meryl? What had she ever done to deserve anything like this?

This was just not possible.

He drove and he drove and he drove until he saw an adobe compound appear out of the sand. From this distance, he could make out several vehicles at one end of the compound. He drove toward the opposite end, past a loading dock. He didn't see the generators, but he knew they were close...probably on the other side of the building.

This had to be the place.

As he approached the rear of the building, he sensed danger. He slammed on the brakes, but not fast enough. The passenger-side front wheel of the jeep tagged a landmine and the resulting blast sent Vash and the remnants of the vehicle careening into a wall. He braced himself, but on impact, Vash's head slammed against the steering wheel. As the dust settled around him, he shook his dizzy head. Small chunks of adobe were falling on him.The front end of the jeep was thoroughly lodged in the building. Vash realized he was hearing gunfire.

It didn't sound too far off.

Vash kicked the shattered windshield out and climbed over the jeep and into the building. He pulled his weapon from its holster and slinked inside the compound. The gunman cocked the hammer back. The new gun felt like a stranger in his hand. He found himself in an unlocked cell. Perfect. He was exactly where he wanted to be. He tried to ignore his nerves as he glanced out of the cell. The smell of the place wasn't helping at all: old sweat, blood, and waste. He breathed through his mouth and tried to stay focused.

Considering he'd made a horrible racket upon entry, he was amazed to see no slavers rushing towards him. The gunfire continued to echo through the bare halls. Maybe there was something more interesting happening in the front of the compound. It didn't really matter to him. All he wanted to do was find Meryl and get the hell out of there.

He passed a few empty cells before encountering a human. Her appearance made him feel a little better. First off, she had clothes on…some sort of dingy brown uniform. Second, she didn't look scared of him. For some reason, that made him relax. The neck collar that seemed to be displaying vital signs did not look good, nor did the thick metal wrist cuffs, but he forced himself to stay optimistic. At this point, he desperately wanted to find Meryl and see if she was in the same condition, but he could not just walk away from this girl and leave her in a place like this. She mouthed something, but Vash heard no words come out. He looked around quickly for some keys, but saw none.

"Stand back," he said. She was already in the corner, but she cowered a little lower at the command. Vash shot off the lock. He heard a few hoarse screams coming from other cells down the hall. The door swung harmlessly open and banged against the concrete wall. The girl scrambled to her feet. She looked a little unsteady, but practically skipped over to him. She leaned against the bars and pointed to her mouth.

Water, she mouthed with a questioning look on her face.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Vash muttered as he patted himself down for some kind of liquid. He finally pulled his flask out from inside his jacket and screwed off the cap.. He put the flask between the girl's hands. She still looked a little unconvinced. He smiled. "Don't worry, it's water." She sniffed at the container as Vash advanced down the hall.

There did not seem to be very many people here. The only noise he heard behind him was the girl padding along and the not-too-distant sounds of a gunfight. A few more women were in cells, but none of them were Meryl. He shot open their cells the same way he'd shot open the first, but he was starting to get nervous. What if she wasn't here? He had driven past a loading dock…

What if she'd already been…sold?

The vile concept whipped him into a barely containable frenzy. He doubled back and went the other direction down the hall. He passed the cell he came out of and went a little further. He didn't see anybody else. He was about to rip his hair out when a small movement caught his eye. In the shadowy corner of one of the cells, a little body lay curled up.

The size was right… The hair color was right… If it wasn't her, he didn't know what he was going to do.

He held his breath, and then shot the door open.

Besides breathing, the body didn't move at all. That made him very worried. He rushed in and bent over the little person. He exhaled slowly as the women from the other cells gathered around the bars, carefully passing his flask back and forth. She looked alright, but much thinner than before.

The neck collar seemed to cover her entire throat, and even though she was thin, he saw that it fit quite snuggly. The outside of it was constructed of metal, while the inside was a leathery plastic material. He tried to slip a finger between the collar and her skin, but some mechanism began inflating the plastic material. He pulled his hand back, a little horrified, and was only relieved when he saw the collar deflate slowly.

He went back to assessing her condition. She must have been deprived of food and water since the capture. He wasn't sure whether he should move her or not. If she was injured, it wasn't a good idea. Then again, he wasn't about to leave her here. He turned her face to the light. There were bruises on both her cheeks. Her face was swollen so that he didn't even recognize her.

Now he was starting to get scared.

He picked her up carefully. She was feverish, probably from dehydration. She seemed to be swimming in the uniform she was wearing. He was afraid to hold her too closely because she felt so thin, so fragile. Had she been losing weight before she'd left the ship? Was wasting a symptom of the imprinting process Doc had talked about?

He walked towards the other women and asked for the flask. There was just a little more liquid left. He squatted on his haunches and gently parted her lips and drizzled what was left slowly into her mouth. He then screwed the cap back on and pocketed it.

He looked up and was surrounded by people who needed to escape. He suddenly realized what kind of predicament he was in. His jeep was wrecked. Even if it worked, he didn't have enough gas to get to New Oregon. He knew he could handle the trek to the town, but these girls were already dehydrated as it was. They probably wouldn't make it, and he couldn't carry all of them.

They had to find another way out.

She had finally fallen asleep. Did this woman really intend to watch over him twenty four hours a day? What time was it, anyway? He felt so infantile taking a mid-day nap.

Knives sat up and stretched. He'd been pretending to be asleep for about an hour. He didn't want to give her any excuse to try to start a conversation. Milly had been reading a book and sitting next to his bed. She'd let her hair down again. Milly looked innocent when she was awake, but she looked even more so in sleep. She was resting her head on the back of the chair. She really did seem kind.

Knives hated her for caring.

What was her angle? Why was she taking care of him? She wasn't Rem. She didn't have anything to do with Rem. And if she was friends with Vash, she had to know what he was, what he'd done to his brother. Looking at her made his heart feel heavy. He didn't understand her. He'd hurt her and she was still taking care of him.

She looked so soft in sleep. She was sleeping with him in the same room. She trusted him.

He needed to get away.

He gently slid out of bed and pulled some slippers on. He checked the closet for a sweatshirt or a sweater. Knives found a dark blue hoodie on a hanger. He pulled it over his head and quietly walked out of the room.

Knives ducked into the bathroom. He caught his reflection in the mirror and almost gasped. It looked like his brother was staring right back at him through the mirror. His hair was too long. His eyes were droopy with fatigue and sadness. And the hoodie wasn't doing anything to differentiate the two. He stumbled out of the bathroom a little stunned. He'd spent over a century trying to establish himself as an individual and now he was running from his own reflection.

Knives made it to the door and took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. Did they really trust him?

He pushed the button and walked through the door. He tentatively wiggled his fingers. They still worked. And even though he was paranoid, he knew there was no trap waiting for him. These humans were stupidly trusting, weren't they…?

For some reason, knowing this made him sad.

He walked down the corridor blindly, not needing to know where he was going. These ships all seemed to be laid out the same. He walked for ages, letting the ship's production plant draw him to where he wanted to be. He stopped in front of a door with a keypad. Knives tried the panel. It was locked.

He really wanted in.

Knives looked at the keypad. He did not want to ask anybody to let him in, and if this was anything like his ship when he was a kid, this room was protected by a 10-digit passcode. Too many combinations…he was beginning to feel tired again. He sighed and tried to think of what it could be. He knew Vash was the sentimental type, to put it mildly. She had been, too.

He punched in Rem's old code: 8274564837.

It was the numerical equivalence of Vash and Knives' names.

Knives sucked in a breath of cold air as the door hissed open. He hadn't really thought it was going to work.

The women followed behind Vash as he navigated through the maze of hallways. He held the little unconscious body close to him. This place was designed to get lost in. He knew he was dragging these girls farther into the lion's den, but he had to find some sort of vehicle. He figured his best chance for finding any kind of car or truck would be in the loading area.

At every corner, he tensed up. The gunfire had stopped a few minutes ago. Someone had won. Slavers could come rushing at them at any moment. His diversion was gone. If he encountered armed men, he didn't know how he was going to be able to keep everyone safe. He kept his eyes open, constantly searching the environment around him for anything he could play up to his advantage. Unfortunately all he could see was bare adobe walls, locked doors, and the occasional fluorescent light. In fact, the only advantage he saw was the many shadowy expanses of hallway. He would go ahead to investigate and wave for the girls to follow when he knew the coast was clear.

Finally, he took a turn and ended up in the threshold of a large room. There were long thin cages that led into shadows. They seemed to be converging in the direction of the loading dock. Everything was in hidden in darkness. He couldn't see any vehicles from here, but half the room was out of view. He turned around and told the girls as quietly as possible to stay here while he checked it out.

Vash crept around the corner and slid into a shadow. He made his way between clean, empty cages. This place was streamlined to facilitate the rapid trafficking of human bodies. It was hard to keep his focus on just finding a car. With every step, he was reminded by the fragile weight in his hands the real intentions of a room like this.

Intellectually, he knew Knives was right. Humans could be monsters. They took advantage of his kind for everything. But somehow, Vash could almost rationalize the bondage of the plants. What he could not rationalize, however, was the violence committed by humans against humans. Each and every one of them started out with so much potential. They all began as loving kids who just wanted to play and explore the world around them. But he'd seen it many times…he'd seen the curiosity vanish as the kids he used to play with grew into teenagers, and then into adults. He tried his hardest to maintain that innocence, to cultivate it, but he knew it was an uphill battle. He knew he couldn't preserve that innocence, he couldn't protect everyone, but that was no excuse not to try, right? But ultimately, no matter what he did, it seemed that somehow between childhood and adulthood, imagination and even empathy all but disappeared…

He'd never understand that.

For a brief moment, he felt someone's eyes on him. Vash snapped back into reality. He scanned the room, but didn't sense any danger.

He slid into the shadows where he thought the cars might be kept. There was a large garage area with car parts, a hydraulic lift, and tools everywhere, but no vehicles at all. He almost had a heart attack.

They were going to have to walk across the desert.

He stumbled back between the shadows, trying to plan some sort of escape. They could go back the way they came. He was pretty sure he could navigate back to his jeep. He had a few canteens in the car. They could wait until nightfall. It would be very cold, and the girls didn't have enough clothes, but it would be better than the blistering heat of the day. Maybe there were some extra uniforms to keep them from--

"FREEZE," a stern voice rang out through the room. He stopped dead in his tracks. He waited for a few tense moments before he heard the voice again. "PUT YOUR HANDS UP." It was a female voice…a serious female voice.

He made a quick judgment, deciding in his head no female could possibly be part of the slave trade. He hoped he was right. "I…I can't put my hands up just now, but I mean no harm. I'm a friend," he tried in his most klutzy, friendly, ditzy voice. The shouting was coming from the loading dock area. If he squinted his eyes very tightly, he could make out the silhouette of a very tall woman, her gun just barely reflecting any light.

"COME INTO THE LIGHT," she shouted. "STATE YOUR NAME AND PURPOSE FOR BEING HERE."

Cautiously, he stepped into the light and looked in the direction of the voice. "I'm just a friend, and I'm just here for--" He stopped when he realized the person had hopped off of whatever she was standing on and hit the ground running…towards him. It worried him…until she came into the light.

His brain almost collapsed. Had he officially lost it? "…M……Meryl?" he whimpered.

"Vash?" she breathed. That was the last thing he heard. She looked stunned. She looked confused. Then she looked worried. She asked something, but he didn't respond. He was still trying to assimilate everything into something approaching logical. Now she looked angry. She started yelling at him, but he didn't hear any of it. She was completely fine. She had her white uniform on and her cloak full of derringers.

She was not captured.

She had no injuries.

She needed no rescue.

He couldn't stop staring at her. He wanted to scoop her up in a hug, but there was already someone in his arms. He looked down. Who was this person he was holding?

She was back to looking worried again. He could see her mouth move in an Are you okay fashion, but he just couldn't muster a response. She approached him slowly and looked at the stranger. Vash watched as Meryl tentatively touched her face. Meryl had a pouch attached to her belt. From it she pulled a spool of wire and some pliers. She snipped off a length she deemed appropriate and went to work. She examined the collar carefully, her delicate fingers finally resting on a small panel. She unceremoniously pried it off with the pliers.

She was talking while she worked. Some of her words bled into Vash's consciousness.

"…inflate to cause asphyxiation…tracking chip installed…can't escape without disabling…"

He couldn't really pay attention. Meryl was alright. She was safe. She didn't need him to save her.

She didn't need him.

He didn't know how long he stood there thinking about that. All he knew was that the next thing that brought him back to reality was a smack from Meryl. She was apparently sick of being ignored. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted. "Why aren't you answering me?"

His demeanor was completely apologetic. "I…I'm sorry…Meryl…"

Meryl cocked an eyebrow and the angry expression burned away to reveal a sincerely worried look. "What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "I…don't know…"

She didn't know how to react to that. Even though Vash hadn't responded when she asked, she was pretty sure that Milly and Doc were okay, and she was very sure that Knives was fine. It wasn't easy to kill that jerk. What did he mean he didn't know what he was doing here? Why had he told her to leave if he was planning on showing up again? Why was he here?

"Well," she stated accusatorially, "You've certainly got perfect timing… We just finished taking out all the bad guys." He didn't react at all. She sighed. Being hard on him didn't seem to be the right thing. "We were looking for this little guy for quite a while," she started again, almost tenderly. "We found all the other male passengers in a corral near the front."

Had he heard her correctly? Had she just referred to this person in his arms as a…little guy?

Vash spoke up. "You know this person?" He looked down and realized the collar was lying on the ground already.

Meryl began to pick the lock on the handcuffs. "Well, not personally, but I know he's the son of the caravan leader. Process of elimination. He was the only boy still unaccounted for." The cylinders in the locking mechanism dropped into place and the cuffs fell open. "His dad was very worried..."

Vash's brain went back to blocking everything out again. This…was a boy? Oh god. If she ever found out he had mistaken a boy for her, it would truly be the end for Vash the Stampede.

He tried to recover. "There…there are a few others…around that corner…"

Meryl smiled up at him. "So, you weren't completely useless today," she said sarcastically. He didn't even look at her. He just looked down at the boy in his arms and set him down gently on the ground.

"He…he…probably needs medical attention. I don't know why he hasn't woken up."

Meryl looked Vash over. She should have been worried about this kid she'd been scouring the place for. She should have been worried about getting them out of this hell-hole. But she wasn't. She was worried about him. He wasn't alright, and this was anything but fair. She had already rehearsed what she was going to say to him if she ever saw him again. She was going to walk straight up to him, burst his cavalier bubble, and give him a piece of her mind.

How dare he show up in this condition? How dare he make her want to take care of him? How dare he be so disastrously, self-sabotagingly easy to care about?

There was nothing wrong with caring about him, right? She'd told herself that before…but with him standing here…and not even responding to her…and looking so strangely empty… What was wrong with him?

"Vash?" she asked him quietly, like that could sum up all her introspection. He finally met her gaze, and it scared her. He just didn't look the same anymore. She'd seen him look sad before, but this was different. This was like someone had taken a vacuum to his brain and sucked all the joy out of his life. She took a small step toward him, not really sure what she intended to do, when she heard footsteps echo down the hall.

She whipped around quickly to see several armed men pour into the room. They had their guns drawn and they were pointing at Vash. Over her right shoulder, she saw a flash of motion as an old revolver emerged, aimed straight at the men. She felt a hand clamp down on her arm as Vash grabbed her and shoved her behind his body.

She didn't have time to think. She scrambled to get in front of Vash as quickly as possible. "HOLD YOUR FIRE!!" The men held off, but they didn't lower their aim. Slowly, she grabbed hold of Vash's jacket and tugged his arm down. "IT'S OKAY! HE'S A FRIEND." Her heart was palpitating. "HE FOUND THE REST OF THE PASSENGERS."

A chorus of hums and haws came from the men. Vash leaned over her and whispered into her ear. "Are you sure this is safe?"

Meryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm down her heart. She relaxed against him. "Yeah. They're my team. They asked me to coordinate the rescue of the passengers. They're a little trigger-happy for my tastes, but they mean well."

She had…her own…team? He let out a body-deflating sigh. He'd been a complete fool to think she needed his help, hadn't he? He didn't know why this revelation hurt so much. He should have been happy that she was okay…better than okay. He felt her take another breath and then push off of him. He almost put his arms around her, but he didn't.

A few men rushed over to the women around the corner. A few came towards Vash and Meryl. They were full of congratulations for Meryl on a job well done. One man picked up the boy and rushed him away. As the men pulled Meryl away from him, she looked back at Vash. He was just standing there. One of the men walking beside Meryl stopped. "Aren't you coming?" he asked. "There's going to be a big party at the saloon."

Saloon, eh? A drink didn't sound like a bad idea.

a/n: sorry this chapter took so long to update... thanks mitai for beta'ing again (and keeping me from embarrassing myself...oi...) and thanks everybody who's still reading this story! STICK WITH IT! the next chapter is going to be a doozy...