Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances ❯ Second Chances ( Chapter 1 )
~A Word From The Mistress~
Inspiration! I've been listening to this song for days and I just had to sit down and write this. Something a little new. A new perspective. I thought…Something *not* DBZ would be nice for a change. So here it is!
~1980 to … hopefully not all that soon…~
Warnings: Death and angst and tragic love.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Gravedigger
Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913,
made his great grandchildren believe you could live to 100 and 3
a 100 and 3, is forever when you're just a little kid so
Cyrus Jones lived forever
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Muriel Stonewall 1903 to 1954,
she lost both of her babies in the second great war
now you should never have to watch your only children lowered in the ground
I mean you should
never have to bury your own babies
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Ring around the Rosy
Pocket full of posies
ashes to ashes
we all fall down
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
oh Gravedigger
Little Mikey Parsons, 67 to 75
He rode his bike like the devil until the day he died
when he grows up he wants to be Mr. Vertigo on the flying trapeze
oh, 1940 to 1992
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
I can feel the rain
I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Second chances…* …Can be brief indeed.
I've seen so many things in my life. Suffered through them and pressed beyond. I know what it is like to live, forever in search of meaning and purpose. I had no place, no family, no one to care if I lived or died. No one to give me hope.
Until he came. My teacher.
He gave me purpose. He taught me to survive, he taught me a code.
He taught me a great many things.
I didn't need to be taught to hate. I already knew how to do that.
He taught me that I could move beyond just hate.
Though he never meant to.
He gave me the strength for it.
He gave me the strength to lead my own life with hope and without fear.
And I chose to share that with the others.
The children.
I did it all for those children. They were my purpose. My reason to fight and learn so well. So that I could give to them what I never had. I gave to those orphans what no one ever gave to me. I loved the children. They made it all worthwhile…no matter what it was that I had to do. I did it all gladly.
I protected them.
I provided what I could.
I gave what I could.
All I ever needed was to see their faces, smiling, their bellies full, the despair leave their eyes, even if it was just for that moment.
I never wanted to be a Gung ho Gun but it was through my teacher that I was able to do any of this. I owe it all to him.
It wasn't until after I met Vash, The Stampede…that I realized I didn't have to be one.
I struggled for so long.
Knowing all the while that it would end. That I would betray him. That I might even be called to kill him.
I was ready to do it.
I would do what I had to because I wanted to live.
I wanted to live. To continue my life the way I had chosen to live it.
I told myself that none of it mattered. He didn't matter. He was an obstacle. Just like the others that I had dealt with. He stood in the way of myself, of those children who depended on me and suffered while I was absent on this mission.
I never expected all the things I would learn.
I never knew how it would affect me.
I never…
I…
I never counted on knowing him…
I never anticipated the look in his eyes. I can read it so well.
He…cares so much more deeply than I ever could. So much more. For *everyone*.
How could I have known? …Known that I was so ignorant…so foolish…so wrong?
I didn't understand for so long. He was an enigma to me. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't fathom him. I didn't understand.
He was such an idiot! A fool! How could he blunder through life like he did?! How did he survive?!
I knew the answer to that but it still boggled my mind every time the question came up. He survived because he was good. No, he was great. The best. Better than me, and that's saying a lot. I had a very good teacher and the perfect motivation.
I did my best to stay clear and not get too involved. I did my best not to let it influence me. I did my best to…stay separate and focused on my goal. But slowly, I couldn't help it, slowly I began to question…everything…
I tried to leave. To move away when I began to think too much and lose my focus. I tried not to open up to any of these fool notions that he lived so religiously by. I was never religious. I have no right to be.
I tried so hard but I failed. He wormed into my life, my head, my mind.
My heart.
The last thing I ever wanted…was to feel for him. Not like this. Not when I had to do what I had to do. Not when there was so much that was so much more important than him.
But it all began to fade. It began to fade as he became more and more important to me. My curiosity began turning into something alarming and worrisome. Something that I couldn't hide from or ignore.
God help me, I never expected to fall in love with him.
Could he tell?
Could he see it in my eyes as clearly as I could see the sorrow in his transparent blue orbs?
I don't know.
I doubt he even considered it.
But he began to see something toward the end. He knew what I was about. He knew that I was one of them. I pretty much told him.
I still hadn't decided when I confronted him that last time, whether I would finish my task or not. I couldn't come to a decision. I almost hoped that he would kill me when I revealed myself. That would take away the choice. But he didn't. He never twitched. He didn't make one move. He just stood there with his sad eyes hidden behind those glasses so that I couldn't read them.
That is what decided me.
I knew then that he wouldn't have tried to stop me.
I was his friend.
That is what shattered me.
I was his friend.
Such a thing had never happened to me before.
I finally understood.
We are so much the same.
Only, he is better than I because he never cared about sides, about good and bad, about strong or weak. He only wanted peace. And he wanted it for *everyone*. Not just those he chose to deserve it.
He is so much better than me, than any of us.
I didn't care about the other Gung ho Guns and I didn't care about Knives. I didn't care about anyone but those children. But…weren't all of those people that I didn't care about once children? What makes them different from the ones that I devoted my life to? What made any of us different?
I chose then and lowered my gun, nearly expecting him to draw his and fire. But he didn't.
I may not have cared about any of the others, but I cared about him. I couldn't let it end the way it surely would.
I realized that I had to atone. I had to repent. I realized that I was wrong. An entire lifetimes worth.
I went to put an end to my part in all this.
And I couldn't.
It's almost funny.
I never realized just how deeply he had affected me until I had to face off against my own teacher.
And then I couldn't kill him.
I chose not to.
I chose the path of righteousness. Even though it was way too late for redemption. I took it upon myself just as Vash always did and now…now…
I feel so free.
Does that mean that he was right all along? Or am I just delusional from the blood pooling around me?
This life. This life here on this planet. We were never meant for this, we humans. We were meant for better. We have it inside all of us. That is what I learned from Vash. That we don't have to be the way we've become, the way this blasted and arid wasteland has made us.
It's our choice.
It's always been our choice.
My entire life…has been one long gun fight filled with cries of pain and blood. The only highlight that I could cling to were those orphans. Just like me, they had nothing. Just like me. I chose to give away everything that I ever could have been. I chose to become the way I am. I thought it was the right thing to do.
Is it too late to redeem myself? I always had the best intentions. Doesn't that count for anything? Is my whole life wasted? Am I damned?
I…I…
I want the chance to learn. I want to know if it was all wasted. I want…I want… I want the chance to start over. Can't I start over? Is it truly too late?
Sitting here now, in the shadow of stained glass and crossed emblems and watching the pool spread further from my body, I know it's too late. I've seen so much death, put so many in those graves. I've watched them fall from disease, starvation, violence, my own hands… It's only fitting that my turn should come this way. But…
I don't want to die!
I have so much more to do, so much that I'm capable of. There's so much more…that I never got a chance for. I would really do it. I want to.
If only I had the chance, I would do it.
And I would stay with him. We could all stay together and…and…be happy.
With him.
I would stay with him forever and never look back. Never regret.
Is this truly how it has to be?
Now that I know, now that I understand, now that I can admit it to myself…do I really have to die?
The tears finally come. Not for fear of death, I really can't do anything against that. Not even for the waste that I've become, I chose it, this is what I made myself. They come for the pain that I feel when I remember the look on his face the last time he laid eyes on me. He looked at me with stone features and betrayal. He looked at me with disappointment and hurt. I caused him such harm without ever pulling my trigger. He could never accept me, never trust me again, it's foolish of me to hope so.
It's better that I die here in the eyes of God and no one else.
I am not redeemable.
It's better that he never knows that I loved him and was still able to do what I did until the end.
I'm growing dizzy now, the pool on the floor glowing darkly beneath me. It's so very large. My heart will stop soon. There's not enough blood left in me…
I close my eyes and listen as each beat comes slower and slower. I guess it's better this way… My tears fall freely for myself and for him and for what could have been.
Until they finally stop.
Cleansed and cold.