Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Guided Steps ❯ The Wages of Sin ( Chapter 2 )

//blah// - Knives' telepathy

A manga/anime note about Legato: He's not telepathic in the manga. He controls people through the use of super-thin metal wires that conduct electricity.

 

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Wolfwood heard an agonized scream and a flurry of movement and forced his eyes open. The nail Elendira had launched was stopped an inch away from his forehead. Silvery feathers curled around it, holding it aloft. A jolt of fear followed recognition. They were the same damned things Vash had sprouted when he lost control of his power and nearly wiped out a good chunk of the planet.

 

He started with a curse and the Punisher, along with his cigarette, slipped away from him. Without its steadying support he toppled backward, teeth clenched tightly together in anticipation of the pain of hitting the ground.

 

In less time than it took him to blink, the feathers were gone and the nail dropped to the sandy ground before him. Those same feathers now curled around him - surprisingly soft - and lowered him gently onto his side in the hot sand before withdrawing once more. `Not going to kill me, then. But what the hell?' He looked to his right and blinked a few times, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him. Because stalking toward him, red coattails billowing out behind him, was something infinitely more disturbing than Elendira had ever been:

 

A scowling, massively pissed-off Tongari.

 

“I- idiot.” he wheezed painfully. “I thought I told you… not to come after me. Why are you here?”

 

Wolfwood looked genuinely surprised to see him. “How could you ask me that? I came to stop you from getting yourself killed, even though you don't seem to want to live,” he answered curtly, too angry to be compassionate. “Get ready. This is really going to hurt.” He grasped the nail protruding from Wolfwood's right thigh, but the alarmed priest stopped him with a hand on his arm. He'd learned long ago that Vash in this quiet, simmering anger was dangerous, and he wasn't about to just let the guy start yanking him apart for no damned reason.

 

“There's no point. It's over, Tongari.”

 

It took a moment for his words to sink in. `Oh god, he's dying.' Vash had a second of pure panic before he remembered the drug Livio had given him. He took a steadying breath and armored himself once more in anger.

 

“I won't accept that,” Vash growled back. “I didn't come all this way just to sit back and watch you die!” He pulled the nail out in one swift motion and Wolfwood gasped in pain. Next came the one in his left calf, then his shoulder. By the time he got the remaining four out of the priest's chest and stomach, the gasps had become short, bitten-off cries. Vash grit his teeth, completing his task in silence because he didn't trust himself to speak without screaming or crying. Or both.

 

When he was done, there had to be more blood staining the sand underneath him than there was left in Wolfwood's body. It wasn't possible that he was still breathing; from the state of his body, he should have been dead several times over. What was left of his usual suit hung from him in bloody shreds, and gaping holes from the nails were clearly visible. How the hell was any drug supposed to compete with that much damage?

 

However if there was one thing Vash was good at, it was maintaining hope in the face of ridiculously overwhelming odds. With shaking hands, he retrieved one of the vials of the regenerative drug that Livio had given him from a jacket pocket. He thumbed off the cap and upended the entire thing into Wolfwood's mouth. The priest's body shuddered, and he rolled over onto his side dragging in a slow, ragged breath. Wolfwood clutched at his chest groaning quietly while the drug did its work.

 

Vash watched the proceedings in horrified fascination. Wolfwood's wounds were rapidly closing, his skin actually sizzling as it grew back together. He'd always known the priest healed fast, but he'd never actually seen it happening like this before. From the look on his face, Vash knew that this accelerated healing had to be intensely painful. `You didn't have to do this to yourself!' he railed silently.

 

After a few tense minutes passed by, Wolfwood pushed himself up to sit facing Vash with a weary wave. “Yo, Tongari! You gonna start yelling at me now?”

 

Vash blinked. Once. Twice. And then, he started yelling.

 

“Of course I'm gonna yell at you, you two-bit priest! You're lucky I'm not trying to shoot you myself for this stunt! What the hell were you thinking!? You'd have died if I hadn't come looking for you!”

 

Wolfwood glanced at the discarded vial in the sand and grimaced. “Stupid Livio, never could follow simple instructions,” he grumbled under his breath. “I never intended to walk out the other side of this. And don't gimme that look. There was no other way. You're an idealistic idiot who doesn't live in the real world. You would've gotten yourself killed before you got anywhere near Knives if I hadn't done this. I can't- I mean, the world can't afford for that to happen. Fuck, I need a cigarette,” he muttered, feeling weakly around what was left of his jacket. He was tired, too tired, and Vash's sadness was cutting into him even worse than it usually did. He was starting to have those dangerous, unsafe thoughts that had to be stuffed into a deep, dark hole before they could surface.

 

Vash's quick eyes caught how Wolfwood's hands trembled with fatigue; how he had to bite his lip to stop any sounds of pain from escaping every time he moved. Seeing him this weak was unnerving, not to mention terrifying. “You're not responsible for me, Wolfwood! I never asked you to kill for my sake!”

 

Anything more he would've said on that subject died on his lips when flinty eyes turned on him, flashing with anger. “If you're just here to bitch at me for killing again, you might as well just stick the nails right back where you found `em, `cause I'm sick of hearing it. You can't thank me for killing to save lives one day, then be pissed at me for it the next. And by the way, you hypocrite, you're not responsible for every shitty thing your brother does, but it doesn't stop you from feeling guilty and trying to save everyone, now does it?” he snapped back.

 

The fact that Wolfwood had a point only served to enflame Vash's temper further. With a snarl, he reached out and slammed the priest into the ground by his tattered shirt, interrupting his fruitless search for another cigarette. “All right dammit, that's enough!”

 

Wolfwood stared wide-eyed up at him with a dazed expression. “Do I really have to get this angry just to get your attention? Well, if this is what it takes, fine. Listen up. It's been more than a hundred years since someone understood me. That's how long I've been wandering this damned planet, looking for someone who would make all of the pain and loneliness worth something. That's how long I've been alone! And then, after all this time, I find you. I finally find you. But you only stick around long enough for me to realize how empty it all is when you're not with me!”

 

Wolfwood grit his teeth as Vash shook him, rattling his still-healing body. It hurt like hell, but it was nothing worse than he deserved for the pain he'd caused Vash.

 

Yes, Vash's words and display of utter rage had surprised him. He wanted to shut his eyes and cover ears so he wouldn't see or hear the hurt he'd had to cause, but it wouldn't have done any good because Vash was crying. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks every time he blinked, and splattered on Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood had expected anger. Anger he could deal with. But this - he had no defense against this.

 

Vash went on, relentless. “People turn away from me, they die, or they're killed. Friends, lovers, total strangers, everyone. They see what I really am and they flee in terror. Or they're murdered because they were kind to me, or just because I happened to be passing through. But not you. You saw, and you stayed with me anyway. And you're the strongest person I've ever met. We're supposed to see this through together, don't you get that yet?!”

 

How could eyes that held so much sorrow be so beau- `No, dammit. Not now, not ever. Stay strong. Stay strong and don't think about stupid things.'

 

He didn't make any move to get himself loose from Vash's hold. “If you think I left all those times for my health, you're dead wrong. Remember who I was reporting to, Tongari. I never had a say. And don't you dare forget who just up and disappeared after the Fifth Moon deal. Don't get me wrong. I know you needed a break, and that's why I took so long to `find' you. But it's not like those two years were a fucking picnic.”

 

Vash frowned at the shadow that passed over Wolfwood's face. Of course. Knives could not have been happy with the guide and bodyguard for losing his charge. And he had managed to stall in letting Knives know where he was, just to give him as much peace as Eriks could find. The punishment for failure would have been… harsh, to say the least.

 

Some of his understanding must have shown in his expression because Wolfwood shook his head. “My choice, Tongari. I survived it. Look, I'm a killer. I was only a few minutes old when I committed my first act of murder, and I've been doing it ever since. It's all I can do to protect the kids, to protect you. It's the only thing I'm good for, and I know it. I know you don't like it, but that's just who I am.”

 

“Don't give me that. I know who you are Wolfwood. And the rescue ships will be here in a few months, but what the hell's the point if you're not here to see it? Don't you want to see that day? Don't you even care? You could've died, Nicholas. You could've… left me alone again.” Vash's breath hitched, and he had to force the last few words out.

 

Wolfwood sighed. It couldn't hurt to stop playing the devil, just this once, could it?

 

Vash released Wolfwood in surprise when his eyes lost their hard edge. It didn't happen often. “You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you. I really didn't think you'd take it this hard. But I didn't get to live the way I wanted to. I figured if I died trying to set things right, then maybe…” `I could redeem what's left of my soul.' “…it would start making up for the wrong I've done. I just… had to save you.”

 

“You're not damned for the things you've had to do, and you don't have to trade your life for redemption. I will not let you die, Wolfwood.”

 

Vash said it softly, but with such conviction Wolfwood found himself actually believing him for a moment. But only for a moment. `You can't stop this Tongari, and you can't afford to waste time and energy trying.' He tried to muster the strength to be a big enough bastard to push Vash away, to make him leave, but found he couldn't do it. It was utter selfishness, but he just didn't want to be alone this close to the end. `Stupid…'

 

Something in Vash's eyes, though, made it seem less stupid than it really was.

 

So he smirked and nodded. “Okay, Tongari. Now get off me. I saw an abandoned house not far from here where we can stay for a bit. I need a rest.” `Knives is overdue to check up on me. It won't take long.'

 

Vash gave him a hand up, but ended up having to catch the exhausted man as he wobbled for balance. “S- sorry. It's been a long week,” he apologized.

 

“Yeah, and who's fault is that?” Vash grumbled. He just held on, waiting and wishing he dared hold the priest as close as he wanted. With an effort, he redirected his thoughts. “Why didn't you just tell me? I could have helped you-”

 

“I'm sure that woulda gone over great,” Wolfwood huffed. “Hey Vash, could you stop trying to save the world for a sec? See, I'm trying to save one orphanage, and I need a hand. And after that, if there's time, you can help me kill your brother.”

 

“Very funny. Quit being an idiot; there was a lot more to it than that. You should have just stayed and let me protect you, and you know it! If Knives can do something, I can undo it. He and I are the same, you know.”

 

Wolfwood chuckled bitterly. “Oh yeah? When was the last time you skull-fucked somebody else's head just to make sure they were obeying your orders? `Cause I could swear I've never seen ya do it.”

 

Vash stiffened in shock. “That's what you meant in the letter? That's what he does to you?” he asked, another wave of sadness and… anger?… in his voice. Wolfwood flinched, cursing himself for being so tired and careless with his words.

 

“Hey, just… forget I said anything, okay? I'm tryin' to say you're definitely not the same as your brother. You're stronger than he is. And that's why you shoulda been going after him instead of coming after me!” Wolfwood shoved away from him and started toward his fallen Punisher, but Vash beat him to it, hefting the heavy weapon up onto his shoulder and stalking off back toward the bike, leaving the priest to follow. It would take Wolfwood a little while to get there on his own right now, but Vash knew him well enough to know he wouldn't accept any help at the moment. And Vash needed the time to settle his thoughts.

 

While he strapped the massive weapon down, he considered the lie Wolfwood had tried to slip by him. The priest had tried to hide it, but there was a foreign calmness in the dark eyes that told Vash he still believed he had to die no matter what Vash said. But Vash resolved to do whatever he had to do to keep him alive, no matter the cost. Because at some point, he didn't know exactly when, a frightening question had begun to plague him. If he couldn't protect the one person closest to him, what was the point in trying to save the world?

 

The answer was even more frightening than the question itself.

 

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Wolfwood had gotten into the motorcycle's sidecar without complaint, proof enough for Vash that he was still in really bad shape.

 

It ended up taking them the better part of an hour to get back to the house Wolfwood mentioned. Without the fear of finding the priest dead to focus him, Vash's driving skills deteriorated to their usual disastrous state. After the second time he managed to send them flying, a foul-tempered Wolfwood dug himself out of the sand and planted himself firmly in the driver's seat. He waited for Vash to get into his usual place in the sidecar, and jolted a bit when he felt Vash's weight settling closely behind him. He would have protested in any other circumstance, but as it was he was having a hard time sitting up. He relaxed and let Vash take the burden of keeping him upright so he could focus on driving.

 

Vash let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Wolfwood leaned against him. Despite the situation, it was still difficult not to enjoy the closeness of his body, whole and wonderfully, beautifully alive.

 

When the house came into distant view, Vash could tell there was something off about it. Vash quirked an eyebrow at Wolfwood who ignored him, completely unconcerned by his scrutiny. When they pulled up in front of the place, Vash was surprised to see that the `abandoned' house was perfectly maintained and had a working well. He now glared openly at the priest, who was steadfastly looking anywhere but at Vash. “Wolfwood, why exactly was this house abandoned?”

 

The priest turned away from him, gazing placidly off into the distance. “Sure is a pretty day, isn't it?”

 

True to form, Vash jumped off the motorcycle and threw a fit. “What did you do to those poor people, you sorry excuse for a clergyman?!”

 

“I… ah… convinced the family to move into the city for safety. I didn't know when I was gonna run into Elendira and I didn't want `em getting killed in the crossfire.”

 

Vash gaped at him after seeing a bullet hole in one of the porch supports. “`Convinced' them? Wolfwood, you shot up their house!”

 

“Don't gimme that look! I didn't shoot it up. I just fired a few warning shots to scare `em outta there. No one got hurt. I was just taking a page from your book! Hey, at least I didn't sing `em a creepy `genociiiiide' song!”

 

“Oh, so now you don't like my singing. I'll have you know I've got a wonderful singing voice!” He began to demonstrate by belting out some fairly off-key opera.

 

Wolfwood made a disgusted sound and took a half-hearted swing at him to shut him up - which Vash ducked with a shriek - before dragging himself off into the house, grumbling the whole way. Vash watched him go with a smile. He refused to lose this.

 

When he got inside, Wolfwood made a quick survey of the house and made straight for the shower to give himself a thorough scrubbing. Blood and sand made for a sticky, gritty, itchy combination. If he was gonna die, he should at least be comfortable.

 

He toed off his shoes and tried to take off the ruined suit, but he quickly gave up and used the many established holes to just rip the remainder of the thing off. He turned on the water and stepped into the cool spray, not bothering to draw the curtain in his haste to be clean for the first time in days. When Vash knocked on the door to ask him if he needed a change of clothes he answered absently, too absorbed in scrubbing himself to pay attention.

 

When he was finally clean again, he just shut his eyes and bent his head under the showerhead to let the water rinse over his back. It was just cool enough to soothe the burn the rapid skin regrowth always caused. It was so relaxing he was starting to get sleepy. And that's how Vash found him a few minutes later.

 

He heard the bathroom door creak open, followed by a swift intake of breath. “Hmm?” Wolfwood looked sleepily up to see Vash standing in the doorway gaping at him. When his synapses started firing again, he realized why Vash was staring at him like that. He shut the water off with a muttered curse and grabbed for a towel off the rack, which immediately went around his waist. “It's the fast healing. Keeps scars from forming, no matter how bad I get hurt,” he explained uncomfortably.

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Right. Uhhh… Here. I found these; they should fit. I'll go… uh, make us something to eat.” Vash shoved some loose jeans and a long sleeved flannel shirt at him and fairly bolted out the door. `Damn,' Wolfwood thought. He hadn't meant to make Vash feel bad.

 

But Vash didn't feel bad at all. In fact, he considered changing careers on his way to the kitchen. `Wolfwood's Personal Towel' sounded really good right about now.

 

Wolfwood's misunderstanding - and his long coat - had saved him a lot of embarrassment. Yes, normally he was self-conscious about his scars, but never around Wolfwood. He'd never even blinked at Vash's scars. Oh sure, he'd clocked him one good for letting himself get that torn up in the first place, but he did it without blinking. That certainly hadn't been what caused his brain to go into meltdown.

 

Wolfwood's body was… magnificent. All lean, wiry muscle under perfectly tanned skin from head to toe. And his sleepy, half-lidded eyes gazing at him under wet lashes… Honestly. How could anyone be expected to behave coherently after being surprised with that?

 

“Okay Vash. Get a grip,” he muttered, unsuccessfully trying to talk his erection down. Get a grip. A hard grip. On nice, slim hips. And if Wolfwood's ability to read his actions and respond accordingly in a fight were any indication, getting him in bed would be incredible… Vash had to bite down on a moan when his imagination tried to run away with him. `Down, boy. First you have to save your suicidal friend from your genocidal brother. Then you can jump him.'

 

He quickly turned to start pulling things out of the cabinets at random when he heard Wolfwood come out of the bathroom. He was probably too tired to notice Vash's `problem,' but he certainly didn't want to take any chances. “I'll have something made in a few minutes.”

 

Thankfully, Wolfwood just muttered “eat later, sleep now,” and flopped down on the nearest surface, a couch in the adjoining living room. He fell asleep before his head touched the cushion.

 

Vash breathed a sigh of relief, and then counted his blessings that he hadn't tried to start cooking yet. In his distraction, he'd pulled out some uncooked lasagna noodles, a package of cookies, and cans of two different kinds of soup. He popped the top on one of the soup cans and gulped it down without tasting it, too anxious to really stomach anything more.

 

When he finished he pulled a chair up next to Wolfwood's chosen couch. As much as he hated waking up all stiff from sleeping in a chair, he needed to be close just in case. He took a moment to study Wolfwood's face. Whenever he was awake, his face flashed through one emotion after another, only hinting at what lay beneath. Asleep though, he always looked worried and haunted. It always made Vash want to find some way to wipe it away, made him want to…

 

…flick him right in the nose. That would get the look off his face really fast. Of course, then Wolfwood might actually shoot him. He chuckled softly and let himself drift off into a light sleep, confident that if Wolfwood tried to leave, it would wake him up.

 

~*~

//Time to wake up, little priest.//

 

Wolfwood started out of a deep sleep with a jolt that should have sent him straight off the couch, but his limbs never moved. `Shit. He sent Legato. He already knows I'm up to something.'

 

His eyes, the only thing left under his own control for the moment, rolled to the right to see Vash sprawled haphazardly in a chair a few scant inches away from him, snoring lightly. He might as well have been iles away, but that was just fine by Wolfwood. This was his price to pay. And with Legato involved, it was going to get messy.

 

`What do you want, Knives?'

 

//The usual, Chapel. I can't have you waking my brother, so Legato will escort you somewhere we can talk privately.//

 

Privately. The son of a bitch was bouncing around in his head, and he wanted to talk privately.

 

What a prick.

 

Wolfwood's body quietly rose from the couch, carefully avoiding any sound or movement that would awaken his only chance for survival. He swept Vash's sleeping form one last time.

 

`Goodbye, Tongari. I'm glad I met you.'

 

He lost sight of Vash as Legato walked him outside into the cold night air, far enough away from the house that Vash wouldn't hear him talking. Only after Legato forced him roughly to his knees in the hard-packed dirt did Knives speak to him again.

 

//Bring my brother to me now, little priest. It's time for him to join me.//

 

“Fat chance `a that. Fuck you, Knives,” Wolfwood spat.

 

Mocking laughter filled his mind. //I think not, human. But Legato has been dying to get his hands on you again. Maybe I should let him. He's been such a good boy lately, it's about time I let him out of his coffin again for a little more fun. Or haven't you recovered from the last time?//

 

Wolfwood snarled, furious at being toyed with once again by these two. He knew it was pointless to fight Legato's control, but being reasonable wasn't in his nature. He fought anyway and was rewarded by Legato snapping his arms behind his back nearly hard enough to dislocate both his shoulders.

 

//This defiant streak of yours is beginning to get annoying. Don't forget what I can do to that pathetic pile of concrete and lost souls you call home.//

 

Provoking Knives was an exceedingly stupid thing for anyone to do. But Livio was free of the Eye of Michael, and in him the children had a strong protector. Vash would carry on, and he would find a way to stop Knives from destroying the rescue ships from Earth. Wolfwood didn't have anything to lose but his life, and that had been forfeit the second he disobeyed Knives' orders. He felt free to indulge himself and really be a pain in the ass.

 

He laughed. “And who're you gonna send? I'm betting you can't spare Legato for anything more than this right now, and good luck getting `Beast' to obey you. And the others? Let's just say they won't be answering your calls anymore.”

 

//What have you been doing, Chapel?//

 

Knives' anger lanced through his head, and it hurt. But it was worth it to know he was pissing the plant off. “Stop calling me Chapel, you're getting on my nerves. Use my name, or better yet, get the fuck outta my head. Your little `Let's Torture Vash' squad is dead, Knives. I took the rest of them out myself. And Vash never had to kill a one of them like you wanted. He'll never join you, and he'll never help you. You. Lose. Asshole.”

 

For a second, nothing happened. Then, all at once, a Knives' fury descended on him like a sandstorm. //You… defied me?!//

 

“I'll defy you all I damn well please, you psychotic freak! You can't fool me. You know Vash is stronger than you. You're just a weak little boy afraid his brother's gonna come kick his ass!”

 

He was as ready as he possibly could have been for the attack when it came. It wasn't the usual callous dissection of his actions that he was used to. This furious invasion of his thoughts was intended to inflict pain and break him apart. But he only had to endure it until Knives decided he'd suffered enough and killed him. As long as he didn't find anything he didn't like…

 

It was a passing thought about the brightness of Vash's real smiles that gave him away. He tried to keep Knives away, but it was like trying to stop a sand steamer with a sheet of paper. Knives followed the thought to its source and unearthed every single Vash-related thought he'd ever ignored, refused, suppressed.

 

`Oh, well, shit.'

 

Knives' contemptuous rage stabbed at him. //You actually want him, don't you? Disgusting! You dirty him just by thinking about him! I would have simply killed you when I finished with you, but now I think you need to suffer for your sheer idiocy. You don't understand that you are only useless garbage compared to us, you piece of filth. But you will. I'll make you understand!//

 

With that, Knives began to tear through his mind, pulling out memories and mixing them with scenes from his most devastating nightmares. Wolfwood clutched at his head and tried to hold on to his sanity, but it was a fight he couldn't win.

 

Dead children covered in blood, gunned down mercilessly by a stony-eyed Livio. His charges. His failure. His fault. Eyes permanently fixed in death, small mouths twisted into the final question, “Why didn't you save us?”

 

Short woman and giant girl, brutalized and maimed, huddled together in their last moments. Sobbing in despair. “You could have stopped this if you had just been here when we needed you!”

 

Vash, fighting the Gung-Ho Guns alone. Refusing to kill. Being torn down in a bloody hail of bullets not even a plant could survive. Accusing eyes turned to him. A last wheezing breath choked out, “You should have protected me… Redemption, forgiveness, they'll always be beyond you. I… hate you…” He watched the sparkling blue eyes go dull with the finality of death.

 

Despairing cries of a world being slowly, painfully drained of life. “If you had saved him, he would have saved us all!”

 

Then the full force of Knives' contempt for humanity engulfed him.

 

Legato fought to keep the impending vocal eruption contained, but it escaped his control.

 

And Wolfwood screamed. And screamed.

 

And screamed.

 

 

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::the crowd boos and throws hard metal objects:: Okay, okay! No more cliffies after this! ~_^

 

Thanks for readin'!!!