Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Bait ❯ Bait ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or its yummy characters; it sucks, but I'll get over it.

 

Warnings: Slight shounen ai (Vash + Wolfwood + Vash), blood, mind-control, SOME SPOILERS, AU, language, major ouchiness; kind of starts in the middle of things…

 

First Trigun fic - be gentle.

 

I change some of the stuff from Episode 23 to suit my own purposes.

 

Italics for thoughts; “Quotes” for spoken words; [Legato speaking into someone's mind.]

 

An alternate ending to Episode 23 with slight shounen ai. Wolfwood is used to torment Vash.

 

Bait

 

Nicholas D. Wolfwood was on the run from his old mentor. Chapel was following him, pursuing him relentlessly. Just when Wolfwood thought he'd managed to get far enough away to double back and begin his own attack, Chapel popped up again. Wolfwood was sick of it. All of it. The running and hiding, shooting behind his back. But most of all he hated why he was doing it.

 

Vash. Vash the Stampede.

 

Why did he feel the need to do this? It was all that needle-noggin's fault! Normally, he wouldn't run like this. Wouldn't have to. He'd just prop the Punisher, his heavy cross-shaped weapon, against his hip and fire. But he couldn't do that anymore. Couldn't kill anymore.

 

He wanted to try things Vash's way and it was killing him.

 

After another narrow miss, Wolfwood swore. A trickle of blood made its way down his cheek. He wiped it away with the sleeve of his black suit. I don't think I'm gonna make it. I can't be like you, Vash.

 

Just as he thought it, though, he spotted it. An opening! Such an amateur screw-up. Wait!

 

Wolfwood just barely managed to hide himself behind his cross, bullets whizzing past his sides, barely grazing him. That should have been my heart. What the Hell am I thinking? I'm not him. I'll never be him. I can't be Vash. I can't do this. I have to fight like I mean it.

 

And just like that, Wolfwood started taking the upper hand.

 

Dodging and weaving, Wolfwood managed to get within a few yards of Chapel. He walked up to him, not hiding, not dodging, and put his gun to the man's head. Chapel didn't even aim his guns at him. Wolfwood didn't let his surprise show. The sound of his gun cocking was Wolfwood's answer to the beads of sweat running down Chapel's face, staining the collar of his shirt.

 

He couldn't do it. Wolfwood looked into the eyes of the man who had trained him for ten years and couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. It was a first. Just yesterday, he'd shot another Gung-Ho Gun. Another underling of Knives. Just like Chapel. Just like me.

 

Wolfwood shifted his eyes. He couldn't do it. The man before him sneered, told him what a wimp he was. But he just couldn't shoot. Not after yesterday. Yesterday, he'd killed a little boy.

 

But that “little boy” was aiming at Vash! He would have killed him, no matter what Vash said. I just wanted to help. I knew Vash couldn't shoot him, but I didn't want Vash to die. So I shot him. I shot Zazie the Beast. A child. A Gung-Ho Gun, but still a child. All I wanted to do was protect the children at the orphanage in December, but instead I travel half-way around this desert planet just to kill a kid? What am I?

 

All of these thoughts took only a second. Wolfwood relaxed. He knew that he couldn't kill. Not anymore. He pulled his arm back, his finger easing off of the trigger. Chapel kept staring at him, confused. Wolfwood smiled benignly and grabbed the pale green apple out of his hand. The surprised look on the man's face was priceless. Nicholas took a bite of the apple. Tangy. Bitter. But sweet.

 

“Mmm.” He hummed, enjoying the coolness on his tongue. Chapel still stared in disbelief as Wolfwood walked away. Almost as an afterthought, Wolfwood turned back slightly, “May God bless you!” he chirped.

 

It feels so good. Not to have to kill.

 

The feeling lasted but a moment. He heard a strangled noise behind him and whipped around in time to see Chapel lifting his gun, pointing it at Wolfwood. Chapel's face was beaded with sweat, his muscles trembling as if he were fighting himself. Nicholas only had a second to realize what had happened. Legato. He's controlling him. I have to… I can't. I can't dodge in time!

 

Chapel's finger moved, pulling the trigger instead of squeezing it. Confirming Wolfwood's suspicion. It's Legato. He doesn't know how to shoot a gun. Doesn't need to when he can simply control someone else's mind and make them do it.

 

Wolfwood hated this. He knew that he was about to die, but he couldn't really do anything. There was just no time. The bullets hurtled toward him, slamming into his chest and legs, knocking him off his feet with their force. They were hot and cold at once, piercing his flesh like burning needles, leaving a coldness like death in their wake. It was over quickly.

 

I'm still alive?

 

He barely managed to raise his head in time to see Chapel struggle with his gun before turning it on himself. Wolfwood tried to stop him, but he couldn't move. He barely managed a low noise of distress before it was over. Chapel's body fell to the ground, unmoving. It hurt more than Wolfwood had expected. It hurt worse than the wounds on his body, this feeling of utter helplessness. He hadn't wanted him to die. Just once, he wanted to be able to win without killing his opponent.

 

This must be how he feels. Vash must feel this way every time he can't save someone. Oh, Vash. I'm sorry I ever made you feel this way.

 

[But he will feel that way again. You will make him feel that way. He won't be able to do anything to save you, Wolfwood. I'll make sure of it. And it will kill him inside.]

 

Legato? What are you…

 

[Heh.]

 

Wolfwood felt a violent intrusion into his mind, like a mental bullet slamming into him. Disabling him. No! Nicholas' arms moved, pushing his chest off of the ground, causing excruciating pain. Nicholas opened his mouth to scream, but found it shut by that same mental hand that had caused him to start getting up. Legato was moving his body. Stop it! Shuddering at the sound of the faint laugh that sounded in his ears, Wolfwood's body kept moving, slowly standing up without his input.

 

What are you doing?

 

[Tormenting Vash. Any pain you feel is just icing on the cake.]

 

Wolfwood tried to scream again as organs riddled with bullets moved within his torso, his lungs trying to suck in air, but mostly just pulling in blood from his chest cavity. He gagged at the heavy copper taste of blood in his mouth and spit some of it out. Legato forced his mouth shut, making him swallow the rest and laughing when Wolfwood mentally damned him to Hell.

 

[Not used to the taste of your own blood? We'll remedy that soon.]

 

Wolfwood's body was forced to stand upright, the muscles in his back protesting, his wounds gaping. He took the first few steps, just wishing he could die.

 

[So soon? This is the easy part!] Legato's laughter was ringing in his ears.

 

He was standing in front of the Punisher, the massive, ridiculously heavy weapon that he carried every where he went. Hell no!

 

[Would you LIKE a little taste of Hell, priest?]

 

He bent at the waist. Blood spurted from his wounds, splashing onto the white cloth belted to the cross. He wrapped his hands around the arms of the cross and slung it over his shoulder.

 

Every step was agony as he was forced to walk. He thought for sure that he would collapse at some point and Legato would just abandon him in the sand, but it never happened. It was as if Legato was giving him strength through the mental connection, making sure he went and did what he wanted. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, Wolfwood saw Vash in the distance. Oh Hell.

 

[Don't worry. It's not what you think.]

 

Wolfwood was seriously struggling against Legato's control, but the loss of blood and the pain made it impossible to concentrate enough to manage it. Soon, Legato had forced Wolfwood to walk to Vash.

 

The conversation was short, with Legato forcing Wolfwood to tell Vash where Knives was. Wolfwood tried everything he could to break free and warn Vash, but it wasn't necessary. Seemingly in the middle of the conversation, Wolfwood was forced to walk away, drops of his own blood making an obscene little breadcrumb trail for Vash to follow.

 

When he was forced to walk into a church, the only thing Wolfwood could think of was You've got to be kidding me.

 

[Poetic, isn't it?] Legato's snide voice asked.

 

Wolfwood walked down the aisle to the altar. The trail of blood followed him. Just feet away from the altar, Wolfwood slung the Punisher off of his back.

 

Thank God. He thought fervently.

 

[You might want to save your thanks for later.]

 

Wolfwood's arms moved, unbuckling the straps on the Punisher. The cloth was ripped off and slung around his shoulders. He started to walk away, to the stairs inside the church. Legato moved his head, making sure that there was no more blood dripping.

 

[Heh. You probably look like Vash now.]

 

Wolfwood's head was forced downward and he saw that the cloth around him was being stained red with his blood. If only I could really be like him instead of just wearing red like him.

 

[Be like what? A murderer in denial? At least you admit that you've killed to protect yourself. He refuses to admit that he has caused deaths. Look at July!]

 

But he didn't want to! Someone forced him to! He doesn't want to hurt people!

 

[So naïve, priest. And to think we were going to let you become the next Chapel.]

 

Why would I want to? You're all just a bunch of killers… and so am I. But he's different.

 

Legato didn't respond. They had reached the top of the stairs, three stories up. Wolfwood pushed open the door and looked in, surprised to see that there was no floor - just a two-foot wide beam going across the church.

 

[Perfect.]

 

Wolfwood walked across, his mind frantically trying to break free of Legato's control.

 

[Relax. You'll fall if you keep trying to fidget.]

 

When Nicholas was halfway across, he slowly turned around and dropped to his knees before laying across the beam, his legs hanging slightly off of one side, his head hanging off the other. He was in the perfect position to observe the altar.

 

[The show is about to begin!] Legato cackled with glee.

 

As if on cue, Vash walked into the church. He stopped and followed the trail with his eyes, gasping when he saw the cross-shaped weapon in front of the altar. He walked quickly toward it, slowing as he got closer and reaching out to gently touch a bloody piece of cloth still clinging to a buckle.

 

“Nicholas… please be all right.”

 

Wolfwood's arm moved, coming out from underneath his body to hang off of the beam. It was angled so that blood from his shoulder wound could drip down his arm and off of his hand to the floor. After a few seconds, a drop gathered and fell, making a small splashing noise as it dropped into a basin of holy water. Wolfwood was irrationally upset at the thought of his blood tainting the purity of the water.

 

Vash spun around, gun pointed toward the center of the church. His eyes scanned the pews, searching. “Nicholas?”

 

Another splash and Vash looked up.

 

Wolfwood gasped as he felt Legato leave his mind, taking his strength with him. Wolfwood's mind fell into blackness and his body relaxed, causing his body to slip toward the side of the beam.

 

 

 

 

Vash knew something was wrong with Wolfwood when he talked to him. Something just seemed off. He knew that the man had just been fighting one of the Gung-Ho Guns, which explained the man's wounds. But he just seemed so… distant. Like he wasn't really there.

 

Vash was surprised when Wolfwood left after answering his question and even more surprised to see the small puddles of blood that seemed to point him in the priest's direction. Vash didn't know what to do. If Wolfwood wanted help, Vash thought he'd ask, but there was just something so weird about Wolfwood today. Earlier, Nicholas had seemed like he wanted to kill him. But then Wolfwood had protected him, bringing the Punisher up to block a shot that would have gone straight through his head. Vash sat and thought for a few minutes before deciding to follow Wolfwood and trying to talk to the man.

 

It wasn't hard to follow him - the blood pointed the way. Vash got more and more worried as he saw the small puddles become larger. He thought of the large, heavy weapon the man always carried and walked faster.

 

The trail led to the door of a church. Vash couldn't help the wave of apprehension that swept through him. Despite his profession, Wolfwood didn't seem like the type to go to God when he had a problem. But maybe he would seek forgiveness if he were dying. The thought of losing Nicholas, even knowing that he was one of Knives' underlings made Vash feel sick. He pushed the doors of the church open.

 

His eyes followed the blood trail until they rested on the sight of the Punisher standing in front of the altar, a grim mockery of the crucifix above. He walked to it, not knowing what he hoped to find since Wolfwood was obviously not there, but feeling comfort in the thought of moving forward. When he reached the massive cross, he reached out and fingered the one piece of bloody cloth that still clung to it.

 

“Nicholas… please be all right.” It wasn't just a hope. It was a prayer.

 

He heard a slight rustling above, then a splash and whirled around, gun pointed toward the sound. When he saw nothing, he scanned the church with his eyes.

 

“Nicholas?” He called.

 

He saw something fall and heard a splash. Dreading what he knew he would find, he looked up to see Wolfwood laying across a beam high above him. Shocked eyes met his own and he screamed out the man's name as the priest's body went limp and slipped off of the beam, plummeting head-first to the floor below.

 

Vash leapt and ran across pews, barely making it in time. Wolfwood's head had almost slammed into the ground. He clutched the unconscious body to him. Thank God. I made it.

 

[This time.] Vash stiffened when he heard Legato's voice echo inside his head.

 

This time…

 

TBC?

 

Author's Note: Please read and review! Like I said above, this is my first Trigun fic, so don't be too harsh with me. I know I butchered some of the story, but I only did it to make things fit, so don't hate me for it!

 

And I know it sucks - you don't need to tell me that. It's no where near as good as it was in my head, but that's typical, so it doesn't surprise me much.