Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Under the Five Moons ❯ Twenty-One Years Gone ( Chapter 5 )

I don't own Trigun. It would be cool if I did. If I did I would have more money. Which would be cool. If you want to know who owns Trigun, check the first chapter. It's all written there.

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Vash raced through the city streets. There had to be a store that open somewhere around here. He had gotten Wolfwood up to his hotel room, but the poor guy was shaky as hell. Oh, who was he kidding? Vash held out his arm. He had the worst case of the shakes he had ever had in his long life. "Please God, don't let me have to shoot tonight!" he thought silently to himself.

He heard a faint meow. He looked to the right and saw a black cat sitting in a store window. The sign overhead read "Gunsmoke Male". The shopkeeper was just closing up. "Yesss!" Vash thought. "Hey mister! Wait up!" he yelled.

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Back in the hotel room, Wolfwood sat on the bed, rocking back and forth, his face in his hands. What the name of the Lord was going on? He got up and staggered towards the bathroom. He looked at the face in the mirror. That wasn't his face. Oh sure, it looked like his face, but it couldn't be his. He didn't have that much gray hair, or wrinkles for that matter.

He staggered back to the bed and sat down. Wolfwood was technically a priest, but he didn't consider himself a very good one. To his recollection, he had only been to confession once, right before he... died? Still, he found himself praying. "Please Lord, I don't want to be alone right now."

Evidently, God had heard him. Vash burst through the door with a bundle under his arm. "Here I got you some clothes. You like black right?" He tossed the package to Wolfwood, who caught it reflexively. He rummaged around for a second, then pulled out a black collar, stiff with starch.

He held it up and looked at Vash quizzically. "An' this is?"

Vash giggled nervously. "Impulse buy, couldn't help myself." Wolfwood shook his head and started to pull on the clothes.

As Wolfwood buttoned the collar, Vash patted his pockets. "I got something else for you." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "The shopkeeper who sold them to me told me that 'They're nothing but a crutch'".

Wolfwood snatched the pack from Vash's hand. He opened the pack and pulled out a cigarette. He stuck in his mouth and looked around for something to light it with. Vash pulled out a match and struck it on the dresser. He lit Wolfwood's cigarette, then shook it out. Wolfwood inhaled deeply. He breathed the smoke out through his nose. "If there ever was a time for a crutch, eh?"

Vash chuckled, "Yeah, I'm almost tempted to start myself."

Wolfwood started laughing. This caused Vash to laugh even harder. They laughed at each other's faces for three minutes. Their laughter died down and they both sat down heavily on the bed. There was silence for a couple of minutes. Wolfwood tapped the ashes of his cigarette on the bedpost.

"So," Wolfwood said, "what's going on? The last thing I remember is, well, dying on the floor of a church. Did I not die?"

Vash shook his head. "You were, uh, dead. Like, buried in the ground with no heartbeat dead." Vash realized what he was saying. "Sorry."

Wolfwood shrugged. "It's alright, I guess. So if I was dead, why am I still breathing? If I was brought back to life, why do I look so different? Come to think of it, how long has it been since I died?"

Vash coughed nervously. He turned his head and stared out the window for a few moments.

"About twenty-one years."

"TWENTY-ONE YEARS?" Wolfwood put his face in his head.

Vash looked at him. The clothes he had bought for Wolfwood had been straight a second ago, but they were already rumpled now. Not too unusual for Wolfwood, the man seemed to generate some sort of aura of untidiness. If he ever got married, he'd probably show up in a dirty, unpressed tux.

Marriage.

Millie.

Jeremiah.

"There's something you should know. The night before you, uh. . ., died, did you and Millie, er. . ., do it?"

Wolfwood stared at Vash. "That's kind of personal, isn't it?" He grabbed Vash's canteen, which was lying on the dresser, and took a swig from it.

Vash sighed; the indirect approach wasn't working. "Congratulations Wolfwood, you're a father."

Wolfwood swallowed the water. "I guess I am. I mean, it's just another way to refer to a priest, isn't it?" he said. He took another swig.

Vash shook his head. "No, as in you're a dad."

Wolfwood performed the greatest spit-take in the history of spit-takes. Unfortunately, he performed it all over Vash. "I'M A WHAT?"

Vash wiped the water from his face. "A dad, as in Milly had a child that is yours."

Wolfwood slumped down. "I guess I've missed a lot." He sighed. "So Tongari. What's up? What have I missed, being dead and all?"

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An ile outside of town, a large van was sitting idly. The driver and the sole passenger were waiting for their compatriots.

"When will they get back?" the driver moaned.

"Be patient," the passenger responded, "they'll be here." She bent down and scratched her wolf behind the ears. "Master Knives would never betray us without good reason. Nor would Master Legato."

"I know, it's just that there's nothing to do! I've already maxed out the engine, fixed the turret, and added boosters! There's nothing left to do to this thing!" he responded

The passenger stopped scratching the wolf's ears. "We are not alone," she said. She pointed towards the west. The driver flipped a switch and a mini-gun turret on top of the car swiveled to face the incoming people.

"Stand down fools. It's Master Knives and I," Legato said.

The passenger rose from her seat. She opened the side door, jumped out of the van and moved to the side. Placing her hand on her shoulder, she bowed low as Knives and Legato entered the van. When Knives passed by, she looked at him like most people would look at a sunrise. She followed them into the van and shut the door.

The driver started to tap on the steering wheel. "Can we go yet boss?"

Legato shook his head. "We must wait for Julius," he said. Another silence fell over the van. They didn't have long to wait. Before the silence could become too uncomfortable, the passenger's ears pricked up.

"He's coming," she said.

Legato looked up. "Are you sure it's Julius?"

The passenger nodded. "Nobody wheezes like him." She got up and slid the door open. They could already see Julius's limping form coming over the sand dune. He raced up as quick he could and fell to his knees in front of the van's door.

Knives looked over him. "Where," he said, "is Nicholas D. Wolfwood?"

Julius prostrated himself before the van. "I'm sorry sir, but I was unable to complete the ritual. I had almost taken him when I was interrupted. During that time, his free will reasserted itself. Once the free will reasserts itself, there's no getting rid of it!"

Knives' eyebrow twitched. "And how were you interrupted?" he asked.

Julius whimpered. "It was Vash the Stampede sir! I'm sure it was him, he looked just like you! He came out of the church and started running at me! I didn't know what to do sir!"

The driver stopped drumming on the wheel and twisted around in his seat. "Vash huh? Should we go after him sir?"

"No," Legato responded, "to do so would tip our hand too early."

"I'm sorry master," Julius grated out. "I'm very sorry."

Knives breathed deeply, closed his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Julius, Julius, Julius," he said. "I consider myself very tolerant of you spiders. I understand that you are inferior beings, and therefore must have odd quirks that I could never understand. I let most of these things slide. However, there are two things I cannot tolerate. One is insubordination." He opened his eyes. "The other is failure."

Rough whimpers could be heard emanating form Julius's robe. "Please have mercy sir!"

Knives turned to Legato. "If you would?" he asked.

"Of course Master." Legato responded. Julius suddenly stopped whimpering. He stood up and dropped his walking staff. He clutched at the throat of his cloak. The hood looked up pleadingly at the occupants of the van, who had gone back to their other pursuits. Legato pulled a candy bar out of a bag and started eating it, even as he killed the man. The driver had started to drum on the steering wheel again, and the passenger had gone back to scratching the wolf. Eventually, Julius stopped struggling and fell down, motionless. He lay with face in the dust. Assuming he ever had a face under that hood. Knives motioned to the driver, who started up the car and drove off into the night.

"It's just as well," Legato said, "I was hoping to kill him soon anyway." He took another bite from the candy bar.

The passenger looked up from her wolf. "Why is that sir?"

Legato swallowed the last of the candy bar. "Death loses all of its pleasure when they can keep coming back my dear Blayne."

Blayne smiled and went back to scratching the wolf. Knives' hand shot and grabbed something in the wolf's fur. He raised his gloved hand. Between his forefinger and his thumb, a small insect struggled. He looked up and smiled at his minions. "One parasite down," he squished the tic between his fingers, "who knows how many more to go."

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"And so I brought Knives back with me," Vash said. He leaned against the dresser.

Wolfwood nodded, he was already on his fifth cigarette. "Go on," he said.

Vash continued, "I found the insurance girls back where I had left them. Fortunately, Knives was still unconscious at that point. In fact, he stayed that way for about month. I went back with the insurance girls and lived with them for a while. I slowly nursed Knives back to health. When he was better, I thought that maybe I could convince him to see things my way. Was it foolish of me to think that? I still don't know. Either way, he escaped five months after he regained consciousness, taking his gun with him."

"Did you go after him?" Wolfwood asked.

"No," Vash replied, "I wanted to. I got scared thinking about the damage he could cause. But the girls were both pregnant, I couldn't leave them."

Wolfwood held up a hand. "Wait a minute, they were both pregnant?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot to mention, I'm a daddy too."

Wolfwood shrugged. "It figures. Keep going."

"About three or four months later, Millie went into labor. There were some complications, but she and the kid made it through okay."

Wolfwood put his face in his hands. "I should have been there. I should have been there for her. She needed me, and I wasn't there for her."

Vash put his hand on Wolfwood's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it. She wasn't alone; Meryl and me were there. She told us that it felt like you were there anyway. Like you were watching down from heaven," he said. That reminded Vash of something. He needed to remember to ask Woflwood about the afterlife.

"My son, what's his name?"

"Jeremiah Thomas Wolfwood."

"Thomas? After the animal?" Wolfwood grinned and shook his head. "Only Millie," he said.

"You want me to tell you about him?"

"No, keep going. You can tell me later."

Vash nodded and leaned against the dresser again. "Well, about a month later, Meryl had our daughter. We named her Nikki. After you."

Wolfwood took a drag on his cigarette. "Thank you."

Vash got up. "So I stuck around, not wanting to leave Meryl and Millie to raise the kids alone. I especially didn't want to leave them without a father figure." He stretched his arms up and put them behind his head. "When they got to be about ten, news reached my ears about Knives. He had slowly started to rebuild, found a new crazy or two to start doing his work again. I figured that I had to try and stop him, or what kind of world would my daughter grow up in?"

Wolfwood nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. He reached into the pack, took another cigarette, and lit it.

"So one day, I took my gun, left a note, and went out in search of Knives. Every once in a while I looked back in on them, but I only ever actually talked to any of them once. It was… oh…. five years ago. For a couple of days I stayed in town and came in contact with Jeremiah and Nikki. I asked them if either of their mothers had told them about what had happened before they were born. They told me that they had not." Vash took a swig from his canteen. "I was unsurprised and not entirely unpleased to find out that Meryl and Millie had decided that they shouldn't know. I figured that they were old enough now, so I told them everything I knew."

"That's it? You stayed in town long enough to tell them that tale?"

Vash grinned. "Well, that and teach Jeremiah how to shave."

Wolfwood chuckled. "If he's anything like me, there probably wasn't too much." He rubbed his stubbly chin. "We Wolfwoods were never good at facial hair."

"Yeah, he didn't have that much facial hair. He takes after you in that respect. He's a good kid you'd like him. Anyway, after that I left. I've never gotten that close to them again. It was the hardest thing in my life to leave them. Nowadays I can't get near any of them. The draw to just go back is too strong."

Wolfwood nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. He reached for the pack again to discover that he was on his last one. He took it out and lit it. He stood up from the bed and walked over to the open window. He breathed out a plume of smoke into the cold night air.

"I've been thinking, and I may know how I came back."

"You do?

"Yep, sit back Tongari, it's my turn to tell a story."

Vash took his advice and sat down on the bed.

Wolfwood took a drag on the cigarette before continuing. You think you met all the Gung-Ho Guns? Well I got news for you, there were two more you didn't meet." Wolfwood blew out another puff of smoke. "One was a freak-show by the name of Martinez the Bloodsucker. Really creepy guy, right up there with Legato. There other was a guy called Julius the Necromancer."

"Necromancer?" Vash asked.

"Yeah," Wolfwood said, "the Necromancer. A necromancer is a person who can totally screw up the process of life and death."

"So you're thinking that this Julius guy brought you back? Why would he do that?"

Wolfwood shrugged. "I dunno."

Vash gave Wolfwood a hard stare. "How do you know all this anyway?"

"Chapel the Evergreen told me."

Vash looked at Wolfwood incredulously. "Chapel? The Gung-Ho Gun?"

"Yes, my old master Chapel. It's time I leveled with you Vash. I was working for Knives and Legato when I met you. Chapel told me that if I brought you safely to Dhemtri, he would make sure that the orphanage was kept safe." He stopped. "How is the orphanage, by the way?"

"Oh, the orphanage, it's good. We all make regular donations, and I stop to play with the kids if I'm ever in the area."

Wolfwood nodded. "Good. Well, as I was saying, I was leading you to Dhemtri. The day that I died, Chapel appeared to me and told me that I was now officially a Gung-Ho Gun. My orders were to kill you. If I did that, he promised the orphans would be well looked after." He sighed. "Total B.S., but I was almost willing to go through with it anyway."

"But you didn't go through with it. I remember that day all too well."

"Nope, while you were off fooling around with Caine, I confronted my old teacher. I beat him, but I chose not kill him. Your words after I killed Zazie were still ringing in my head. While I was leaving, something seemed to come over Chapel. He shouted out for me to run, but I wasn't fast enough. He shot me. And well, you know the rest."

Wolfwood took the last drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out. "I was betraying you the entire time Vash. I'll understand if you're mad at me."

Vash shook his head and stood up. "No Wolfwood, the good book preaches forgiveness, and so do I. You can never walk in darkness so long that cannot walk again in the light, that's the way I feel."

Wolfwood smiled. "Alright, so now what?"

"Well, I'm going after Knives, I don't know about you though."

"Well, if you're going after Knives, I'm going with you."

"But. . ."

"But nothing Vash. You're my friend and I'm coming with you. I can still shoot. In fact. . ."

He walked across the room and went out the door. Vash followed him wordlessly. Wolfwood walked through the silent streets and to the church where he died. He headed past it into the graveyard where he had been resting only hours ago. He went up to his open grave. He reached out and touched his Cross Punisher where it stood over his grave like a guardian. "Still in good working order."

Vash caught up with him. "Yeah, we came here every year, to pay our respects and keep it in good shape. I even got Frank Marlon out here to make sure it would still work."

Wolfwood nodded. "When did you bring it back? I mean, I thought that you said that you left it after you fought Knives?"

Vash nodded. "Yeah, but me and Millie went back there while Knives was still unconscious. In fact, we took everything, the cross, the revolvers, even the coat."

"Why the coat?"

"Millie made me. She said I should wear it if me and Meryl ever got married."

Wolfwood grinned. "She would."

"Are you sure that you still have the strength? I mean, you don't look like you used to. You look, well, old."

Wolfwood flexed his fingers. "Yeah I know, but I feel like I still have my strength." He grabbed the cross and pulled it out of the sand. He hefted it up onto his shoulder. "Besides, no burden is too heavy for those with faith."

They both turned around and starting walking back towards the hotel. "Hey Wolfwood." Vash said.

"Yeah Tongari?"

"Does heaven exist?"

"Couldn't tell ya."

"Huh? You don't know?"

"Well, it's like when you go to sleep and you have a dream. Then you wake up, and while you don't remember the dream, you know you had a dream," Wolfwood said.

"So you don't remember anything?" Vash asked.

Wolfwood shook his head. "Coffee breaks."

Vash stared at him. "Coffee breaks?"

Wolfwood nodded. "Coffee breaks." They walked on for a while. "Hey Vash, did Millie ever find someone else. Ya know, move on?"

Vash shook his head. "No, she tried though. She wasn't able to find anyone. I personally think that she never really got over you."

Wolfwood grinned. "I don't know whether if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"It's a good thing for you, and now it's a good thing for her. Just go with it."

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Nikki: Years have been spent looking for a father. Now the mothers show up finding their wayward children. Do they do dare to trust their babies, and follow them after the man? And does one of them dare to go back to where the father of her son died so many years ago? What if, what if the peaceful grave she expected wasn't there? Next chapter: Hot On The Trail

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