Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Blood Over Water ❯ One-Shot

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Ping- I got Trigun!!!
All- Huzzah.
Ping- So, since I've got a wee bit-o knowledge now, I'm going to write a story. ^_^
Wolfwood- -_;- Oh God...
Ping- And you're my fave, Nicky D!
Wolfwood- 0_;0 You already killed me once- what more do you want from me!?... And don't call me that!
Vash- Sex with me?? ::looks hopeful:: Can't be that bad, can it?
Wolfwood- >_;< Don't you ever read any of her stories!?!
Ping- ::evil grin:: You always hurt the ones you love, but nothing says 'I love you' like killing them off!
Vash- 0~0. ::starts to whimper:: Save me, Nicky D!!
Wolfwood- VAAASH! >_;<

Warnings: Angst, Torture, NCS, Lemon, SM, OOC, Gore, Language

Pairings: SurprisexWolfwood, WolfwoodxVash

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, it's characters or concepts, and I make no money off this. This is purely for entertainment, and if one would guess, it's probably all my own.

Notes: My first Trigun fic... well, set in the Trigun universe. 'Shattered Reflection' doesn't count. Well, my point being, this is my first real Yaoi Trigun fic, and seeing as how I'm not all the way through the series yet, some people are going to be out of character. Please excuse. As soon as I get time, I'll watch them all. Then watch them all AGAIN in Japanese!!! ^__^ BWAHAHAHAAAA!! (PS. -_;- <- crummy cigarette face.)

'thoughts'
*telepathy*
//flashback//

Blood Over Water

"You sent for me?"

"Yes, I did." Knives waited until he was standing before him, looking him in the eyes before remembering he wasn't supposed to. 'You're out of practice, Gung-Ho.'

"Chapel."

"Yes."

Knives looked down at the dark haired priest. No respect, no respect at all. The worm. "You made it back very quickly."

"...yes."

Ah, he was confused now. That's it- kick them like the dogs they are, then throw them a bone. "I wish to speak to you."

Chapel just nodded, looking confused while trying not to. It didn't matter- his mind gave everything away. How the little bastard hated him, saw him as a monster. How the fear began to rise and fall as he followed him into another smaller, darker room.

How he loved Vash.

And the poor little fucker didn't even realize he was on to him.

Once in front of a roaring fire, Knives turned to face Chapel. The fool was taking in his surroundings- the fire, the table and chairs, the door, the lack of a window... the bed- making sure he could get out fast, should the need arise. Knives smiled as his eyes returned to the bed. Unrest was rising. 'You aren't going anywhere, you little bastard.'

Catching Chapel's attention, Knives stalked closer, slowly, noting with satisfaction when the human backed up a step. Knives stopped a foot away and watched the nervous creature. This... this- what he was looking at now- this was the monster. A sad, bloody, weak and temporary thing that only caused itself and others pain, in it's confusion. How he wanted to crush his skull beneath his boot. Break the soft bones of his back and twist his pliant neck until it snapped. He wanted them all to die- this one especially.

'How dare you think you could have him... How dare you think to twist him into feeling the same for you...'

Without warning, Knives backhanded Chapel across his temple, sending to the floor with a pained exhalation. Chapel didn't move- he laid there, staring ahead as his head throbbed, wondering what he did now, and how he was going to get out of this one.

*You aren't.* Came the sadistic reply in his mind. Knives grabbed the back of his collar and hauled him up. Chapel- wisely- only stood, looking at Knives but not looking too closely or too long. After he was securely on his own two feet, Knives began to walk a slow, close circle around the Gun-Ho Gun, increasing his unease. He looked up and down the finely tailored black suit, tutting every time he saw a smudge of dirt or a wrinkle. Every time he made a noise, Chapel jerked, causing Knives to smile. After a few rounds, Knives stopped and stood behind him. Too afraid to turn his head, Chapel stared ahead at a blank wall.

'So simple... such stupid creatures you are...'

Knives reached out and wrapped his arms around Chapel, one looped around his chest, pinning an arm and palm resting over his heart, the other around his waist, pinning his other arm and petting slow strokes from the waist of his pants to his hip to his thigh. Chapel stopped breathing and tensed, hesitating only a moment before bucking against his captor with a startled cry. Knives held tight, pinching flesh and hissing in Chapel's ear.

"How dare you even think of being with Vash? You can never have him! He is MINE!" Knives snarled, glaring at Chapel's turned neck, almost seeing his rapid pulse beat beneath the dark skin, carrying liquid fear to all parts of his inadequate anatomy. So imperfect. So unlike Vash. So why?...

Chapel still twisted in his grip, until Knives reached up and took a handful of messy hair and pulled his head back, twisting him until his gunpowder eyes stared widely up at him.

"Strip."

He shoved the shocked priest away and took a seat at the table, waiting with narrowed eyes.

It was a command. A command to be obeyed. Chapel did not.

Knives frowned and sent a spike of pain through the other man, and he cried out in pain as he pressed his palms on either side of his head.

'Funny,' Knives thought. 'How they always do that. Do they think it will stop the pain?'

After Chapel looked less secure on his feet than absolutely necessary, Knives released his hold on his mind. Chapel took huge gulps of air, his eyes squinted tightly shut, his hands remaining on his head as it throbbed in the aftershock.

*Strip.*

His voice tore across Chapel's mind and he cried out hoarsely. Slowly, he brought his hands down and to the front of his black jacket. Knives smiled as shaky hands freed the shiny buttons. After they were done, Chapel paused, still breathing heavy. A glare from Knives and the whisper of more pain made him swiftly drop the article to the floor. Knives' smile returned- deceivingly benevolent.

*Now the white one...*

Hands still hesitant, Chapel unbuttoned and dropped his undershirt as well. He shivered, despite the warmth of the fire behind him. He was scared now, and that made Knives one very happy man. He nodded to his black pants.

"Wh-why are you?..."

*Because.* He sent his voice along louder than Chapel had expected, and he quickly began to undo his pants. Knives obligingly quieted his response. See? He could be generous. *I want to see...*

Black pants slid down Chapel's legs, landing on the floor with a dull thump. He stepped out of them and his shoes, flinching in pain and humiliation, his cheeks burning.

*...see what Vash could possibly see in you...*

Standing, Knives prowled closer, circling the shivering, blushing priest.

'Playing the little virgin, are we? What, haven't you dreamed of Vash like this?'

He looked closely at the man that had captured his brother's attention. His dark skin slid easily over taught muscles, though he was a little on the thin side- came with the territory of traveling in the desert so much. His hands were large and capable looking, his hip bones pressing sharply against his skin, atop long, strong legs. Muscular ass. His back and arms were solid and smooth.

His neck was long, his torso well-defined. He had deep gray, angled eyes with dark lashes. High cheek bones and a prominent nose, and wild, dark hair. He was far from pretty. In human terms, perhaps handsome or exotic. Alluring and sexy, maybe. But Knives saw no one's beauty beside his own and his brother's. So this thing- this dark, small, wicked thing was what his brother believed he wanted? This solid and smooth thing... this human with no scratches to be found...

While Vash carried the burden of scars by humans!

'That will change, dear brother. Their suffering will make you seem untouched. His suffering will bring us closer together.'

Having made his point to himself- not condescending to explain it to a stupid human- Knives reared back and punched Chapel, sending his head whipping back with startling force. Chapel staggered, but Knives caught his wrist and pulled him to him, while pulling a knife out of his boot. He twirled it for a moment, catching the rays of light from the fire and reflecting it into Chapel's eyes. He didn't strike with it until he saw understanding dawn.

As soon as Chapel's eyes widened and he struggled to pull free, Knives slashed out with the blade, catching him in the throat. A thin stream of blood splattered against the wall, and Chapel's free hand clutched at the narrow wound. He struggled to say something, but the next attack was a stab- to his hip. Chapel doubled over and coughed, and the blade sunk in to the hilt next to his spine. The room was getting darker and Chapel was hard pressed to remain on his feet.

There was snickering next to his ear before two inhumanly strong hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

"What's the matter, human? Can't fight back? Too weak?" He laughed mockingly, pulling Chapel so that they were eye to eye. "Where's your God now, little sinner?"

Red stars danced behind Chapel's eyes, everything before him pulsing green and yellow and black. His blood pounded in his ears, rising and receding until it was almost deafening. He felt himself slipping away, his fingers numb, his lungs about to burn to ashes.

"I'm your God!" Knives threw him across the room, his back slamming into the metal wall unforgivingly. Chapel tried to suck air into his lungs as he slid wetly down onto the floor, a broad band of blood left on the cold, hard surface. In a heartbeat Knives was back, towering over him, caressing his cheek as he tried to breathe. The fingers were almost soothing, until they began to dig into the skin, tearing down his face and neck, down to his chest and ending with bruising handholds on his upper arms. Chapel would have screamed, had he the air in his lungs.

Too weak to fight, Chapel was helpless to stop Knives from slamming him into the wall again and again, his head bouncing, jarring his vision of Knives talking to him, saying something he couldn't hear over the pounding of his skull against metal. Finally it stopped, and Knives, looking oddly satisfied, began pummeling his chest and abdomen with crushing punches. Chapel doubled over with each hit, being forced back up against the wall before the next devastating blow was dealt.

'God, please help me please make him stopVashpleasehelpmehelpmehelpme'

Knives screamed, angry that he would still think of his brother, his Vash. Standing, he rained kicks everywhere he could reach, punching his face, delighting in the sound of snaps of bone against bone and warm blood trickling down his fingers. Chapel fell over onto his side, covering his head with shaking arms, and Knives continued to kick his back, his neck, anything, the metal of his boots cutting crescent shapes into every patch of flesh it encountered.

When he stopped, Chapel was moaning long and low. It took several moments to realize that he was doing it, and he forced his throat to close.

He sneaked a glance up at Knives, through tangled red vision as the monster titled his head back, eyes closed and smiling.

*I love it when you make that sound. That keening death-cry.* He bit his lip. *Wonderful...*

Chapel tried to crawl away, his legs not responding and the blood running from his head and neck making the floor too slippery for his hands to gain purchase. He cried out as Knives rested his hand on the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair, gently.

"Stupid human... You're so wrong about me... You were so uncomfortable about that bed..." He leaned down, and Chapel could hear his smirk. "I'm not even going to use it."

He dragged Chapel up by his hair, earning himself another shout, and he forced the bloody and beaten body up against the wall, holding him up by a forearm to the neck, leaving Chapel's feet dangling. Chapel felt that familiar sensation of approaching unconsciousness, but the sound of a zipper brought him back.

'God, no!'

*Yes, Chapel.*

'N-no... No! Stay OUT OF MY HEAD!!' Chapel thrashed and tried to break free with all he had. 'Get the fuck away from me you bastard!!!'

Knives kneed him in the groin, silencing him. "Now now. That's no way to talk to your God-"

"You're... not... my God." Chapel panted out.

Knives seemed to consider this as he finished undoing his pants. "No, I suppose not. I am the God of all things perfect and wise and beautiful. You... you don't even have one." He slammed Chapel to the floor and landed heavily on his chest with his knees. "You don't deserve one." Chapel's mouth opened as he sought air, and he used that opportunity to shove his hardening sex into his mouth.

Chapel's eyes opened wide and he began to choke, thrashing under Knives' weight.

'Nononononononononononoooooo!!!!'

*Bite me and I'll skin you alive...*

Knives panted, becoming short of breath as his shaft lengthened and grew in the moist heat of Chapel's mouth. Chapel tried to scream, which made the sensation all the more delicious for him. *This is almost too good...* He thought, pulling out.

Chapel turned his head to the side and coughed, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. Offended, Knives slapped him, his nails digging into this cheek as he did, leaving four more trails of blood behind.

"You're almost too good at this!" He said happily before his look turned dark. Chapel tried to kick him off, but Knives tore at the flesh on his legs until they were too slick with crimson to gain any purchase.

Knives rolled Chapel onto his stomach and twisted his arms behind him, almost too far, the bones grinding against each other sickeningly. With his other hand he grabbed a handful of hair and wrenched Chapel's head from the floor. Chapel choked on a scream as Knives knelt to breathe in his ear, saying nothing, instead taking a deep bite. He screamed and Knives plunged into him without warning or preparation.

Chapel felt like he was being torn in half. As he felt blood trickle down his thighs, he began to think he had.

Knives didn't wait to adjust, he just began to immediately ride Chapel with bruising force, Chapel's hips hitting the floor so hard the skin peeled, slickening the floor beneath him. Chapel cried out, tears sliding down his cheeks that he was desperate to stop, as Knives' thick cock slammed into him again and again. He tried bucking, but Knives twisted his hair harder, and he felt strands rip free of his scalp and blood run down his temples.

Bored with the position, Knives pulled out and flipped Chapel over again, still pinning his arms painfully behind him, and entered his body again, just as painfully as the first time. Knives cackled and leaned down, sucking Chapel's lips and tongue into his mouth, biting hard until his entire mouth was all but shredded. Knives' body grew a light sheen of sweat as he thrust, Chapel's unwilling body protesting and clutching at his swollen organ. His balls slapped against Chapel's, and he released his hair to grab his limp shaft, pumping it viscously. His fingernails tore into the soft flesh of Chapel's sex, and he cried out all the more. Knives bit down on his collar bone as he felt orgasm approaching, blood seeping into his mouth.

"Vash... Vash, oh Vash, yes..."

Chapel felt bile rising in his throat, mingling with his screams and his blood as Knives came, his semen burning his insides, and, as he pulled out before the last strings left his quivering sex, the burning salty fluid stung his cuts, sinking in and biting to the bone. Chapel screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling as though they would collapse and his vocal chords would snap. Knives licked his lips and looked down at him, smirking and panting as he recovered, lazily stroking his softening organ.

"You're so pathetic." He wiped all the semen dripping from Chapel's opening onto his fingers, bringing them up to Chapel's face. Leaning down, nose to nose, Knives laughed and Chapel cowered. Forcing his finger inside his busted lips, Knives rubbed his seed all inside Chapel's mouth, ignoring the gagging sounds and the bloody saliva that trickled from the corners of his lips, the tears from his eyes. Finally, he pulled them out and wiped them off in Chapel's hair.

"That, Chapel, is as close to perfection as you'll ever get."

Knives punched him one last time in the throat for good measure before standing up and chuckling as he cleaned himself up. Once he was clean and pristine again, he sneered down at him, curled into a ball and shaking, as he stood in the doorway.

"Get back to work, Chapel. And keep to the script this time."

Knives laughed long and loud one more time before Chapel mercifully passed out on the floor.

**********

There was no one else there, so why was he worried? Only Wolfwood, and he wasn't even conscious. 'Oh God, Wolfwood...' He closed the door behind him and walked over to the bloody mass of flesh on the ground. Was he even breathing?

He knelt down, feeling emotions well in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was a good thing Wolfwood was out- it would hurt less, and he wouldn't see. He couldn't let Wolfwood see.

He couldn't let him see that he cared. He couldn't bear to see the confusion and hurt if Wolfwood knew how very much he cared. How close he was to crying. How close he was to love. How frightened he was by the sight of his broken body. How much he had wanted to stop it. Legato... that was one thing. But this. This was devastating. He scooped the unconscious man off the cold floor, senses jarred by his cold, bloody, stiff body as he carried him over to the bed and laid him down gently.

He smoothed blood matted hair out of his eyes, cursing at the cuts and bruises on his face. One eye swollen, nose bleeding, lips swollen and caked with blood. Scratches and gouges were taken out of his cheeks and neck- meeting the fingerprints of hands that had squeezed almost too hard. His body was wrecked- all the untouched skin put together wouldn't be enough to take up even half the space of Wolfwood's face.

He hurried away and back, carrying a bowl of cool water and some rags. Sitting beside the priest, he gently cleaned him up, with a tenderness that would shock anyone who might see him. He felt panic, then realized no one would see him. Wolfwood whimpered in pain every now and then, and he kissed his temple every time he had to cause pain to clean him- to dig into a wound to get the semen out. Tears leaked out of Wolfwood's eyes, and it was almost his undoing. He felt the pull to lie with him and hold him, to keep him safe from nightmares, both dreaming and awake.

But he would be missed- they would come looking for him, and he still didn't know how to let Wolfwood know how he felt. 'Better not to at all', he reasoned, though part of him did not agree. He felt a need to keep him safe. Wolfwood had fought so hard- he really had- and it had amounted to nothing. If anything, it brought him only more pain. He wanted to make sure that didn't happen, but again, didn't know how. Perhaps if he thought on it, got the courage.

He found the discarded clothing, spared from the gore, and folding them neatly, he placed them on the foot of the bed. With one last look, he left.

**********

Wolfwood felt like God had dropped an atomic bomb on him. It hurt to breath, and when he tried to open his eyes, one would not obey. He laid there for so long, just listening to his own shallow breathing and the crackling of the fire, the only other sound in the room. He was alone then. Good. He focused on his breathing, trying not to take notice of every wound that scarred his flesh. Scarred flesh- like Vash's, only not perfect in it's imperfection.

Part of him had dreamt that there was someone there, someone caring for him. Vash. Soothing crooning and soft hands had taken care of him, warm with love, a sweet and spicy scent. He'd been as close to happy as he had ever been. Despite his pain, he felt cared for. But the other part of him dreamed of Knives, pulling and tearing and hurting as he laughed and drank his blood and fear. It made him shiver, sending ripples of pain throughout his form.

He tried to still himself, but he remembered he had to return to Vash. God... what would he say? What would he think? What would he tell him?

'I should have fought harder... but... I had nothing left!'

//What's the matter, human?... Too weak?//

This was adding insult to injury- exactly what Knives had planned, no doubt. Despite his body demanding he not, Wolfwood sat up and buried his face in his hands, weeping from the pain and the fear of what was to happen next.

'Dear God... Help me... I can't do this on my own...'

**********

"Do you see anything yet?" Milly yelled up to Meryl, who was perched on a hill, scanning the horizon for any sign that they were heading the right direction. The car had broken down- as it obviously had to since Vash was there- and now they were stuck, trying to figure out exactly where they were.

Meryl looked a little bit longer before shaking her head. 'It's no use. We're going to die out here with that blonde bimbo...' She was about to climb down and tell said blonde exactly what she thought of this situation, when she saw something reflecting the double suns off in the distance. "Hey!" She called down. "I think I see something!" She continued watching. "It's... moving?" She asked herself quietly.

"Oh, I knew we wouldn't be out here forever!" Milly jumped up and down with glee.

"Thank GOD!" Vash wheezed as he climbed up the hill, accidentally shoving Meryl off to land face-first in a sand rift. She spat out sand and cursed at him, but Vash wasn't listening. He was watching a familiar reflection with a feeling of happiness and warmth that grew with each passing second.

"VAAAAASH!"

"WOLFWOOD!" Vash ran past the fuming Meryl, completely oblivious of her, and continued running full tilt toward the Punisher he saw in the distance.

"Hey, I think I see a vehicle!" Milly yelled somewhere behind him.

'Oh good! Food, drink, a bed and Wolfwood!' "WOLFWOOD!!" He smiled and waved as he ran. He was several ards away when his smile faded, his breathing becoming short. "Oh God... WOLFWOOD!" He ran faster, fear and adrenaline pumping through him as he got closer. The way he lurched, the smell of blood... something was wrong.

Vash reached Wolfwood in time to catch him as he finally collapsed, the Cross Punisher falling into the sand with a dull thud, one side stained red. Vash was frozen, his arms hooked underneath Wolfwood's shoulders, his head limp against his chest. "Wolfwood?" He asked quietly, afraid. "Nick... are you..." 'No, stupid, he's not alright! Look at him!!' "Somebody help!!" Vash screamed and looked around frantically as he clutched the limp body against him. "Hang on, Nick, help is coming.... HELP! SOMEBODY!" Vash felt his calm slipping away as the seconds ticked by and Wolfwood did not stir. The only movement was Vash's shuddering breath, the wind blowing, and the slow, sick spatter of blood as it hit the sand and was swallowed.

Vash struggled when Wolfwood's body was pulled away, not instantly realizing help had come. But he refused to release him, and the entire trip to town, in the back of a pickup, with three worried faces glancing at him, he cradled Wolfwood's body, rocking gently and singing an old song he knew.

**********

Wolfwood groaned and turned his head, alarmed by the blossoming pain it produced. A warm hand rested on his forehead, and a familiar scent met him.

"Vash." His voice was a croak he barely recognized. He recognized Vash's voice, however.

"Oh God, Wolfwood!" Vash choked, rubbing his fingers along Wolfwood's cheek. "What happened to you!? I-I... Oh God!" Vash began sobbing, hurting Wolfwood more than he already was. It was like a physical blow, to know Vash was so hurt and that he was the cause.

'No, Knives is the cause...'

"Who... who did this to you??" Vash looked at him, his eyes liquid and light. Wolfwood lost himself in them.

'What do I tell him?' "Bar brawl."

"Bullshit."

'Well hell... ... ... I'm too tired to lie...'

"Please..." Vash rested his head on the pillow beside Wolfwood's head, and he could smell the hair gel and soap the other used. He could also see Vash's perfect white hand holding his own, wrapped in soiled bandage, bloody and black. No wonder he couldn't move it. How had he ever managed to get so far?

"You..."

Confused, Vash looked up and sniffled. "What?"

"I..." Wolfwood grimaced and gritted his teeth as more pain hit him. "I found you... I didn't think I would." His voice became a whisper, and Vash placed a finger over his lips to quiet him.

"Shhh. You need to rest."

'Besides, if I told you- even a lie- what could be done? You wouldn't kill them. Would you do anything?' The look in Vash's eyes told him he would do something.

In a moment of twisted perception, his dreams came back to him. He felt hurt when he remembered the kind caresses that kept him alive after Knives that were neither Vash's nor real. He felt fear when the sweet blonde above him melted into something the same, yet so undeniably evil and different.

Vash's eyes widened with the expressions he saw on Wolfwood's face, and his own face became soft and sad, and saturated with love for him.

In that instant, Wolfwood knew that Vash knew. Knew who had done this to him. Wolfwood also knew that he had to leave.

Because Vash loved Knives too.

Vash's innocence and willingness to forgive anybody was a trait he had often scoffed at, though admired in some small way. But this... to know that not only did Vash know what had been done to him, but that it had already been forgiven- without any apologies- made him feel ill. How could he compete? Knives could have mailed his head to Vash in a box, and Vash would have forgiven him.

Vash cared for Wolfwood- even loved him, he knew this. But it wasn't the love he felt for Knives. What kind of love was that? To be loved in the shadow of a maniac? To only matter when there was nothing else to care about?

Just one more ache in a long line of pain.

His whole life was pain and suffering. Legato and Knives could preach the end of it all until their jaws fell off, for all Wolfwood cared. The world could have ended there, for all he cared. He didn't care.

'Vash doesn't care.' No, that wasn't right- Vash cared too much. He had to get out of there.

He sat up, groaning in pain, and Vash tried to gently push him back down. He smiled down worriedly, his green eyes wide and warm.

'Damn you. Damn you and those eyes. Damn you for being so forgiving... I can never forgive Knives. And now... I can never forgive you.'

Knives had succeeded afterall. What a jagged twist of fate. Struggling harder, Wolfwood sat up. Vash had no alternative but to release him, else he hurt him. Wolfwood groped about for his clothes on the edge of the bed and pulled them to him. Every muscle in his body protested, along with every scratch, cut, scar, and bone. Vash looked at him with such open and honest confusion. How could he explain it? He would look like the bad guy no matter what. Besides, it was better if he left on his own. The last thing he needed was for Vash to choose Knives over him- to his face. And he knew he would. Despite what Vash may feel for him, Knives would always mean more.

'I know where I stand- blood is thicker than water.'

Once he was dressed and limping for the door, he looked over his shoulder at Vash the Stampede, $$60 billion man, the Humanoid Typhoon, one last time. He was still confused and hurt, and Wolfwood felt pain for him, but it was not his own. Come the end of it all, he would have Knives, and Wolfwood would be alone again.

That's the way it had to be, and that's the way he left. Alone.

The door closed behind him with a click of finality. Wolfwood wanted to stop and rest, sigh and think, but he knew if he did, he'd damn it all to hell and walk back in there, not caring if he was only a temporary fixture, and not even the most prominent one in the heart of the man he had loved . His body groaned, but he pushed himself on, down the stairs and to the entrance. He was outside in the afternoon sun before he realized he'd left his Punisher behind.

Could he go back for it?

'Couldn't carry it if I did.'

Would he need it?

'Not where I'm going.'

He hadn't thought of where he would go, once he had left. Now the answer was obvious. Cruel that his guns would be in his cross. He staggered along, trying to sort out the numbness in his brain to figure out exactly where he was headed.

"Need a hand?"

Wolfwood started painfully, spinning to face the voice and almost falling over from the sudden rush of blood. A white sleeved arm shot out to steady him, the other gripping his Punisher firmly. Wolfwood's eyes refused to focus, refused to even look in the direction he wanted, but he didn't need to to know who held him steady. Safe and caring. That scent, that voice, those arms... he would know them anywhere.

Midvalley tucked him closer to his own body as he helped the swaying priest to his ride. After settling the giant cross and Sylvia's case, he eased Wolfwood into the rental car. He looked over as Wolfwood's head bobbed, his fatigue finally catching up with him.

"It won't be easy."

Wolfwood rolled his head to the side and looked at him tiredly. Busted lips quirked a little and he grunted in acknowledgment.

"And it won't be perfect."

Another grunt.

"Well..." Midvalley grinned and slipped his glasses on. "As long as we're clear on that."

Wolfwood chuckled and returned his gaze to the road ahead.

Happiness did not lie on that road. Nor did prosperity, ease, not anything. There was little they could create for themselves. The rental took off into the desert, heading towards nothing, but away from many things. There were things they could create for themselves, and many, many things they could not. But away from all the pain, it didn't matter. It didn't have to be perfect- it was right.

~owari~

**********

AN:

Ping- Ya know, I had a really good ending line, and as I was writing the second to last sentence... I forgot it. -_-
Wolfwood- o.O
Ping- ^_^
Midvalley- SCORE! ~^__^~
Vash- -_- I hate you.
Milly- Pimpmaster and the Priest... It sounds like a Disney movie!! ^-^
Midvalley- I'd buy it!!
Wolfwood- o.O ....ouch....
Ping- Hey, at least I didn't kill you again...

Drunky- On another note, Ping watched episode 23 for the first time and bawled her eyes out. (Despite the face she knew it was coming...) Look out for angst and Wolfwood sex.
Ping- T~T ::sniff sniff:: Wah...