Notes: Apologies for the longer wait for this chapter-lots of life stuff happening recently. Things are finally settling down so we're hoping to return to a steadier schedule! Anyway, as usual, HUGE "thank you" to our readers who've faved/followed and especially those who have given us feedback. Nothing makes us want to write more than some good old fashioned feedback, not gonna lie! LOL. But enough about that, on with the story! Enjoy!

.: Chapter 4 :.

Sky was asleep for what felt like ages. Her unconscious hours were filled with dreams; vivid, nonsensical sequences that preyed on all of her vulnerabilities and drained her emotionally. When she woke the next morning, she found herself unable to recall anything specific. Only exhaustion remained. Her mind felt muddled, and it seemed that even in her sleep she was unable to turn it off.

She rolled onto her side, listening for signs of life outside the room and hearing nothing but the early birds chirping outside her window.

She'd gone to bed early, after all.

That's right...

Vash.

Sky sat up immediately and winced at the pain the action caused her. A hand went up to gingerly touch her neck, and everything from the day before came rushing right back. Sleep had allowed her to forget, but now she could recall the incident in vivid detail; his eyes as he'd taken pleasure in choking the life out of her, icy as the words he'd spat at her as he had done it...and the discovery that he was, in fact, the brother of the infamous Vash the Stampede.

Vash the Stampede, who'd been inhabiting that very inn, right under their noses.

Oh, shit.

Sky exhaled slowly, her eyes growing wide as the revelation sank in all over again. She'd been too overwhelmed to properly process the information the night before, and if it weren't for the feeling of dread pooling in the pit of her stomach she might have been able to convince herself that she'd simply imagined the entire thing. But the proof was as ugly mark wrapped around her neck and she knew there was no way she could turn a blind eye.

This—they—needed to be dealt with.

"We'll leave," she remembered him saying to her. "Before dawn tomorrow, I promise we'll be gone. There won't be any more trouble."

Her eyes flickered toward the window, noting the first of the sun's orange rays just beginning to peek over the horizon. Would he stay true to his word? Was he already gone?

Surely it was for the best. By allowing those two to remain at the Dwyer Inn, she was putting everyone within the building in danger...possibly everyone in the city as well. It was a known fact that trouble followed the Humanoid Typhoon like a little lost puppy, and if his brother was anything at all like him, then the ensuing dangers could very well be catastrophic. Frankly, leaving town would be the most responsible and considerate thing that the Stampede could possibly do!

Still…Sky just couldn't shake the sorrowful looks he'd given her the night before, so full of remorse and guilt over what had happened to her. She recalled with great clarity the pained expression etched onto his face as he'd turned away at her request, after having brought her what she had asked for.

Maybe she was just a sucker, and maybe it was a stupid thought, but she couldn't help but wonder: what if Vash the Stampede really wasn't what the rumors had made him out to be?

At any rate, just sitting around and wondering about it wasn't going to get her any answers. It was time to be proactive.

Sky slid out of bed and stretched carefully, mindful of her sore neck. Peering into the mirror over the dresser, she nearly gasped at the mottled purple bruise marring her throat. It wasn't exactly the perfect shape of a hand, but even so there would be no questioning what had happened to her should someone catch sight of it. After quickly dressing in the dim morning light, she knelt to unzip the duffle bag Vash had brought in from her old room and fished out a thin blue scarf. Normally she only wore it while driving her bike through sandy desert storms. Today, however, and the next few days thereafter, it would be serving another purpose. She wrapped it loosely around her neck, effectively concealing the bruise and then checking her reflection in the mirror to confirm that it was well-hidden. She certainly didn't feel up to answering any questions about it; particularly from Olivia, of all people, who would no doubt be displeased that Sky had retired from her duties early the night before without providing any explanation whatsoever.

A moment later, Sky left the room as silently as she could, hoping the creaks and groans of the old wooden floor wouldn't cause the aforementioned sister to come looking for her.

"Before dawn tomorrow, I promise we'll be gone," Vash's words echoed in her mind again, broken and repentant. She stood still in the hall for a prolonged moment, hesitating as she stared back toward the end of the hall, eyes fixated on the door still shut tight and half-hidden in the shadows. And in spite of herself, in spite of everything, Sky found herself hoping.

.

oOo

.

Vash hadn't slept that night.

He wished he could have, but every even breath that came from his brother was a painful reminder of too many things. His heart was being pulled in so many directions at once, and he just needed to sit in silence and process his thoughts. On one hand, he'd shot his brother down like a dog and then patched him up. On the other hand, he was now forced to keep Knives chained up so that he didn't harm any more humans. His brother had already demonstrated that he was ready and more than willing to continue the genocide if the opportunity arose.

Vash gulped down the lump that filled his throat; unfortunately, the opportunity had arisen.

He couldn't help but feel as though Sky had only been trying to help Knives. She must've been horrified to see him in such a condition, he surmised, and he knew that she blamed him for it wholeheartedly. Of course, she was right to blame him. He'd done this, and there was no way he could ever expect her to understand why. He should have known he couldn't keep a secret like this for so long. Maybe he should have gone back to that town where the insurance girls were after all. Maybe he should have gone back to visit what was surely Wolfwood's grave by now.

He just couldn't seem to hide no matter what he did.

Vash bit down on his thumbnail, chewing on the gloved part and pulling it forward. He wasn't sure why he was stalling. He had promised her that he would leave, and he fully intended to do so; in fact, he had already packed all his gear in anticipation of being out on the streets shortly. And if Sky had a lick of sense in her, she would report him to the Sherriff, which meant that they'd be targets again.

But Knives being conscious threw a wrench into his plans. How was he going to keep his brother from running off? Leave the chains on and walk him like a dog?

What was the alternative?

Vash's head dropped into his hands as he sat on the stoop in front of the Dwyer Inn, a cup of coffee he'd made himself from the kitchen going cold beside him.

The two suns were just peeking over the dusty brown horizon, turning the sky shades of orange and pink, and he had to remind himself that he had promised, that he needed to get himself and Knives far away from February. Preferably before Sky woke up and saw him still sitting there.

That was, of course, the moment he heard the creak of worn hinges and the chime of a bell from behind. Vash froze, listening. The obvious hesitance of the other added an extra layer of tension to the atmosphere, though the suspense was short-lived, and a moment later he heard soft footsteps slowly approaching.

There was a long pause before a hoarse female voice remarked, "You're still here." The words did not sound accusatory, rather a bit surprised.

Vash sucked in his breath so quickly he almost choked. "M-Miss Sky!" He wanted to spout off a thousand apologies and assure her that he'd been about to leave, honest, but as he turned around to do so, the look in her eyes caused all the words to die on the tip of his tongue.

She didn't look angry, or even afraid. Her willingness to approach him knowing the truth of his identity told him that much, though there was a certain amount of caution in the way she regarded him all the same. And her eyes…she was studying him with a soft sort of expression that he'd not often seen people give him. Sympathy? He felt a pang in his chest at the thought, and he wondered if he even deserved such a thing.

Sky softly cleared her throat, trying hard to speak as though her throat hadn't nearly been crushed the night before. "I, uh, actually…I wanted to talk to you."

She felt a bit of nervousness well up in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him, but was that just because she knew the truth of his identity now? She swallowed, taking in the scene before her. She'd caught sight of him from the window as she'd approached the front of the inn after having been unable to gather the courage to enter the bedroom he and his brother occupied. There, she had spent a few minutes just watching him and trying to decide what she would say to him, what could actually be done about the situation. He'd looked lost in thought, somewhat slumped over, almost miserable...and as she stood there before him now, all the words she'd carefully strung together in her mind immediately dissipated.

Vash paused for a few seconds to collect himself, slightly confused. She wanted to talk? Most people just wanted him gone, or dead, and for far lesser offenses. What could he possibly say or do that would make this okay?

He couldn't bear to look at her any longer, but he patted the spot next to him in a friendly—if not somewhat timid—gesture.

Sky hesitated, her legs seemingly rooted to the spot, but after a moment she managed to urge her body forward. She approached him and then slowly sat beside him

There was another stretch of stillness while they simply sat together, both staring straight ahead. Sky fidgeted, taking several seconds to adjust the scarf and then combing her fingers through her long, loose hair. The rising suns were creating a beautiful image of serenity, setting the whole city aglow, and as she focused for a moment on the scenery she found herself somewhat soothed by it.

She broke the silence, asking the first question that popped into her mind. "What's his name?"

Vash almost considered asking her for clarification just to stall for time, but figured there was really no point in it. He knew exactly whom she was inquiring about. It seemed that her curiosity had won out over her desire for justice after all. Just who was this girl, anyway?

"His name is Knives," he finally replied, sounding a bit defeated. "We're…we're twins." Vash folded his hands in front of him, putting them down in his lap as a smile that never reached his eyes stretched across his face.

Sky's brow furrowed slightly. Knives? Under less weighty circumstances, Sky might have scoffed and demanded to know what the hell kind of name 'Knives' was, and why their mother thought to torture him with a moniker like that. But today, she had more important matters on her mind.

"What's wrong with him?" She asked quietly, folding her arms across her knees as her eyes traveled back toward the horizon. She remembered Knives looking at her with such disgust, remembered the way he'd shrunk away from her as she'd been unlocking his cuffs.

Vash was tempted to chuckle. It was quite the loaded question. One he didn't know if he was ready to tell another human being yet. Though Meryl had flinched upon hearing it, certainly, it wasn't as though she'd ever done anything unscrupulous with the information. Of course, Knives hadn't wrapped his hand around Meryl's neck and tried to suffocate her either. She'd suffered at the hands of his henchman, but the man himself was a whole other matter.

"Well…let's just say he lost all faith in humanity a really long time ago…" About 150 years ago, to be precise, but Vash wasn't ready to disclose that bit. He wanted to tell her she had the right to ask him anything she wanted to and that he'd answer her with complete honesty, but he just couldn't bring himself to make that promise.

Sky was confused. "'Lost faith'? What does that mean? You have him chained to the bed in there...and now I see why, but it seems like there's much more to it than just 'losing faith in humanity'..."

She studied the step that her feet rested upon, eyes traveling up and down the cracks and creases in the weathered wood, recalling once again the way Knives had reacted to her touch…as if her hands had been poison on his skin.

She frowned. "Something bad happened to him, right...?"

Vash remained silent for a few moments, his breathing and hers the only sounds to be heard in the early morning. "Yeah…something horrible…when he was just a boy. It's stayed with him his entire life, and he's never been able to let go of it. His entire perception of the human race has been warped because of it. He's become so averse to everyone…sometimes even me."

She didn't immediately reply, instead choosing to let all of that sink in. What he said seemed to match up with what little she had seen...the fact that he was averse to touch, the disgust in his eyes when he'd looked at her, regarding her as though she were beneath him. Even so, his dangerous behavior was a rather extreme reaction even for someone who'd suffered a terrible childhood, and the fact that Vash seemed to be answering her questions with a purposeful vagueness only made her think that he must have suffered greatly as well. The look on his face only solidified her belief in that.

Well, if he didn't want to talk about it then Sky decided she wasn't going to force him. She'd heard enough on that particular subject, anyhow. But there remained another very important matter that needed to be resolved, and so after letting out a slow breath, she directed the conversation toward her main point.

"Okay...I can understand that...but how are we going to deal with this going forward?"

Vash met her eyes again and was nearly taken aback by the earnestness he found. "You don't need to do anything at all, Miss Sky. It was wrong of me to endanger you and your sister by taking up here. The fact that you're being so understanding right now is more than either of us deserve. Don't worry, I'll take him someplace where you and everyone else will be safe from him." His eyes crinkled in a small smile that was really only meant to put her at ease.

"No," she blurted out before she could stop herself, the word sounding far more demanding than she'd intended. "You don't have to leave."

His eyes immediately grew wide, though the surprise quickly morphed into concern. "That's very nice of you, Miss Sky, but—"

"No, I mean it." She shifted position so that she was facing him. "Where would you even go, anyway? Look, I know…I sound crazy. I know your reputation. Everyone does. But that just doesn't match up with what I've seen. I'd rather form an opinion based on fact and not hearsay, and from what I've seen, you are not a bad person." She gave him a rather sheepish look, shrugging her shoulders a bit. "I wanted to find you and tell you that before it was too late. I just…I want to help. And maybe I'm wrong, but…it really seems like you could use a friend."

Her speech gave him pause as he absorbed the unexpected kindness. He didn't really know what to say. This was crazy! Knives had almost killed her! But...her offer of friendship was awfully appealing. And she was right; where else could he go? Any other place suitable for the needs of an injured man would no doubt be surrounded by innocents. He was pretty much between a rock and a hard place, and Sky seemed to know that. If he could keep the of two of them apart—and make sure that Knives had no opportunities to harm anyone else—then maybe, maybe things would be okay. At least until he could figure out a better arrangement.

Vash felt extremely selfish in that moment and he knew he should probably refuse her invitation to stay…but he hadn't had a friend in a while, and she'd shown him a sort of kindness that few others ever had before. Despite his better judgement, his resolve was weakening.

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno, Miss Sky. With Knives around, I can never really guarantee your safety."

She bit back a shudder and a grimace, but she'd already made up her mind. "Yeah, I know that now. But if I hadn't been so hell-bent on getting to the bottom of your crazy lies, then I probably wouldn't have even bothered going in there to begin with, and none of this would have hap—" Sky stopped abruptly, noticing the look of guilt washing over his face, and she hurried to add, "I mean, I'm just saying! Now that I know all this, you can bet I'm not touching him with a ten-foot pole. I'm never freaking going in there again as long as he's here. But speaking of which…what do you intend to do with him? At some point, he's going to heal. What then?"

Vash could only shrug helplessly. "I'm not really sure…I guess I just thought—I hoped—that I might be able to change his mind, if only a little bit. Enough so he could find a little peace here among everyone, anyway." He sighed, not wanting to admit that even he was beginning to feel as if that was a bit too optimistic. "But I think he's just in a state of limbo right now…so apathetic that he doesn't even care if he heals or not. His eyes…they've been so empty…well, until he…" Vash paused to swallow before he continued, "until he attacked you."

"I see." Sky pursed her lips, unsure of what else to say to that.

He sighed, leaning over to cover his face with his hands. "It's not progress by any means, but it shows that he's still got some life in him, sorry as I am that he chose to show it in that way." He dropped his hands, giving her a meaningful, earnest look. "Thank you…I can't tell you what this means to me…to us. You're entirely too understanding after what you went through…we don't deserve it, not a bit…but I mean it. Thank you."

She nodded, meeting his gaze with a small smile. "Well, you're welcome."

The suns continued to crawl their way higher into the sky at a steady pace, brightening the environment little by little, and now they could begin to make out the sounds of people starting their day; a window creaking open, a voice calling out to a pet who had wandered outside, a car passing by on the street here and there, idle chatter of neighbors in the distance. It wouldn't be long before Olivia would be up and about as well, and Sky wanted to finish the conversation before her sister wandered outside for an early morning smoke and caught the two of them talking.

She exhaled a sigh, threading her fingers together and swallowing once more, as if such an act would rid her of the irritation in her throat. "And just so you know, I'm not going to tell my sister about any of this. I think it would just cause a frenzy, anyway, if people found out that Vash the Stampede was in town," she added, recalling a false alarm a few years ago that involved riots in the street and the entire town shutting down, all over one little rumor that a bunch of kids had started as a prank in order to get out of going to school for a couple of days. If they'd reacted that badly to something that had turned out to be completely false, how much worse would it be if it were the real deal?

Besides, she thought, he seemed to have no ill intent toward anyone in February...and he did not appear to have any other options. As long as he could keep his troubled twin under control...why cause needless panic?

"But," she continued after a moments' pause, "you have to agree to something in return. I'll keep quiet about this, but only if you're straight with me from now on. No more ridiculous stories. I mean, honestly, I knew you were lying to me right from the start. I just didn't know what it was about. You can't imagine what I thought when I got into that room...seeing him, Knives...chained up like that...I thought you were a serial killer! That's why...that's why I freed him."

Vash blinked in surprise; he hadn't really imagined what that might have caused a normal person to think, had they found out what he was doing with his brother. He simply hadn't predicted being discovered. At least not so soon. He should've known better, being that trouble more than followed him, it clung to his ankles and pulled at his sleeves like a small child who didn't want to be left behind.

He turned to look at the girl, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for every word she'd said to him. "Deal." He reached over and held out his hand to seal the deal.

Sky felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips for the first time since yesterday and she leaned over slightly so she could grasp his hand and shake on it. She only hoped that she was truly making the right call. Vash was one matter, but his brother...well, she supposed they'd be leaving anyway once Knives had fully recovered.

After that, she would never have to see that monster again.

.

oOo

.

It was still there, at the place he'd set it when he first arrived at the Dwyer Inn in February; Wolfwood's cross punisher. It stood, leaned up against the wall on the left-hand side of the door and beginning to gather a thin coating of dust from lack of use.

Miss Olivia had given it a couple of funny looks, but she seemed to sense that it came as part of the packaged deal of Vash, aka 'Mr. Smith', and his mysterious brother. He had been paying her a pretty handsome sum for the room they were renting, so aside from the odd look or two now and then, she didn't mention it.

Vash couldn't bear to move it again. It was damned heavy, for one thing; it weighed more than Knives. He didn't know how he'd managed to carry them both all those isles. Looking at it hurt, but sometimes Vash found he just couldn't help it.

It was covered in its white cloth and black belts again now, but he remembered a time when it wasn't and a time that it had been pointed at him with intent to kill. In that moment, Vash thought he might have let Wolfwood do it...if that had really and truly meant the priest would never kill anyone else.

Little did he know, that was one of the last conversations he'd ever have with the man whom he now realized had been his best friend. It cut to the quick, the sharp pain that flashed through his chest at the thought of him.

He remembered their very last exchange with aching clarity. He'd just seen the sniper sent from the Gung Ho Guns end his own life out in the desert. It had torn him part inside to know that the man thought he had no other choice. He was just sitting there feeling sorry for himself, and Wolfwood had stumbled up to him.

"What's wrong?"

"I failed. I failed to save someone again."

"Man is born a mortal being, and we all make mistakes. It's part of the game. Just be more careful the next time."

"It's hard for me to accept making mistakes like this."

"Then you can choose to suffer. That's also a part of the experience of mortal life."

"Oh, yeah. 'Mortal'..."

He clenched his fists at his sides, remembering those words. He'd been stewing in regret over his own mistakes and hadn't even realized that his best friend needed help; not until it was too late. He'd looked up again and the priest was gone, leaving only a trail of blood in his wake.

Vash had taken off like a shot, following it straight into the church where he found Wolfwood; unmoving, clinging to his unwrapped cross in front of the altar, a half-smoked cigarette on the floor next to him. Eyes closed. Hand lifeless.

Trying to contain his panic, he'd frantically felt for a pulse, trying multiple places over and over until finally he found one...but it was faint…so faint. With the utmost care, he'd managed to get Wolfwood to the closest doctor. It had been an agonizingly slow process, even with the help of the insurance girls, and with each halting step he'd feared that the priest would take his last breath.

He remembered the wide-eyed bewilderment at the doctor's office when he'd brought Wolfwood in, tears running down his dusty face. They'd immediately taken the unresponsive priest into the operating room, given him a blood transfusion and prepped him for surgery. Vash had heard things like 'collapsed lung', 'penetrating abdominal trauma' and 'hypovolemic shock' but he'd felt as though he were hearing them from very far away and they hadn't made much sense at the time.

Later, he'd rewrapped the cross punisher for Wolfwood. He had set it next to the man's hospital bed once he'd been cleared for visitors after surgery. Vash had remained there by his side for as long as the doctors would allow in between treatments, refusing to leave for food or even sleep while he waited for his friend to wake up.

On the third day, the machine monitoring Wolfwood's heart had stuttered, skipped and finally flatlined. Panicked, Vash had leapt to his feet and shouted for help. The room quickly filled with staff, one of them pushing a cart full of equipment. They began CPR. They stripped his chest and used the defibrillator. Helpless, Vash was herded from the room by a nurse and told to wait outside.

That was the last time he'd seen his friend.

Hours later, he and the insurance girls stood before the doctor in charge of Wolfwood's case. Her words were burned into the back of Vash's mind:

"I'm afraid Mr. Wolfwood has suffered from sudden cardiac arrest. We've managed to resuscitate him, but he still hasn't woken up. We can't be sure how much brain damage he's sustained…"

She'd gone on to cite complications during surgery as the cause of the heart attack, solemnly stating they had done all that they could and would continue to do so. Vash vaguely recalled hearing the term 'therapeutic hypothermia', but the look in the doctor's eyes and the tone of her voice told him all that he needed to know.

He remembered drawing in a deep breath, reminding himself to stay strong, trying not to break down then and there. Trying not to throw things and run back into that little room and scream at Wolfwood to get the hell out of that bed, to get up and come fight with him, because that's who Wolfwood was: a fighter.

Instead he had simply nodded numbly, rooted to the spot. He'd pulled away from the doctor and gone to stare out the window at the mundane scene in town; people just passing by, shopping or out for a stroll or on the way to work. He'd gripped his fist and banged it against the glass, rattling the panes. They didn't know just how lucky they were.

Worse still was that he'd been unable to stay any longer. Time was up. Knives was waiting for him, and the longer Vash stalled, the more innocents were at risk. With a heavy heart, Vash had taken Wolfwood's cross with him and he'd left. Left knowing that Wolfwood was going to die, and there wasn't a Goddamned thing he could have done to stop it.

Vash sincerely hoped for Wolfwood's sake that there really was a God...and that the paradise he'd dreamed of existed somewhere.

Even so…he couldn't imagine how a God who was supposedly so merciful could allow so much suffering to exist on this planet.