Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Welcome to Meldreck ❯ Chapter 1

"Welcome to Meldreck"

(mangaverse)

Vash leaned back against the cool stone pillar, exhausted, watching the dustmotes floating over the casket. Three days. Three days since Ripmela, where Wolfwood had somehow acquired the rusted ratbike now dripping oil all over the street outside. Three days of hard riding, forced brevity, and nightmares. Three days without a shower. Not quite three weeks since he'd said goodbye to Ericks.

The noonday suns had no power here, with the leaded glass windows permitting no more light than was absolutely necessary. The congregation sat as still as the statuary, somber black and stiff Sunday best rubbing elbows with patched workshirts. Wolfwood's somber voice rolled over them, rising and falling rhythmically, like an earthquake, or an ocean.

"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die."

Is that a blessing or a curse? Everything that lives, dies, no matter how much I wish, or you pray. But eternal life for a select few, only for believers? Having to watch everyone else…

It is a curse.

"Lord, let me know mine end, and the number of my days: that I may be certified how long I have to live."

Why would you want to know? Why would you invite that shadow into your life? Better to live each day as it comes, and just accept that someday you will die.

"And now, Lord, what is my hope: truly my hope is even in thee."

What is this text to you, Wolfwood? Do you just recite the words, or do you believe them?

Your false face is almost as good as mine; you can sound so penitent.

"When thou with rebukes dost chasten man for sin, thou makest his beauty to consume away, like as it were a moth fretting a garment: every man therefore is but vanity."

Is that what happened to you? Have you been rebuked?

Who are you?

What should I do with you?

"For I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner: as all my fathers were."

A tradition of restlessness. Is that why we get along so well?

"O spare me a little, that I may recover my strength: before I go hence, and be no more seen."

How did you know my brother's name?

I can't leave you behind. Not yet.

"Glory by to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen."

'World without end'?

Rem… I'm so tired…

Pausing to turn the page, Wolfwood glanced up briefly, scanning the crowd for a shock of straw-blond hair. Vash sat in the last pew, head drooping, tense even in sleep.

That boring, huh? Thanks. Maybe I'll leave you here when we get to the parade bit.

"Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed."

It's not gonna be a trumpet, but sometimes this book is too damn accurate.

Shit.

Here and now, Wolfwood. Here and now…finish the service, get a drink, then you can think about that.

…

I need a smoke.

"Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."

The shifting sounds and muffled coughs increased, and Wolfwood realized he'd been standing silently for some time. "Amen." A sheepish smile came and went, and he looked out into the sea of faces. "The 'Domine Jesu', I think, and then we'll continue this outside." The pallbearers began to make their way forward as the congregation stood to sing.

The procession followed the casket through the front door, Wolfwood trailing behind. He paused beside the sleeping man in the back of the church.

"Got another hour or so here, then we'll see if this'll cover a hotel room and a bottle of whiskey." He glanced down. Vash hadn't moved, but his eyes were open and staring straight ahead.

"You still look like hell. I'll be back in an hour. Sleep."

Vash closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. From the open door came Wolfwood's voice, intoning gently: "Man, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery."

*-*-*

"It's like a new world, Vash!" Rem twirled about, her hair a black wing. She spun faster, laughing, filling the air with tiny black feathers. "Dance with me?"

"Rem. It's cold." Huddled under the big table in the botany lab, shivering amid green leaves and bright red snowflakes. Watching the Rem-bird trying to fly away. "Rem!"

"Vash." Her smile echoed. "What do you fear?"

Burning ships. Aging children. Parchment people. "Don't leave me again." Dust. Stone. Blood. Breath. Hands. Ropes. Guns.

Knives.

"Please. Stay with me."

--Did she say `what' or `who'?--

Kneeling, Rem reached out with both hands. "I'm always here. You know that. But you have to make this decision on your own."

Something bright was happening. "Rem? What decision?" Brighter. "What do I have to do?"

A single feather burst from his right hand.

His synth gun flickered in and out.

"Rock-paper-scissors, Vash. Do you remember how to play?" A flash of gunmetal gray as Rem closed her eyes, hands cupped together.

The ship shuddered and began to burn.

"Can you beat a full house, Tongari?"

--Weren't we playing something else? Rem, I'm trying so hard…--

But if I win…?

"Sure were glad to see you pull into town, Preacher. You got some good timing." The balding businessman counted out a stack of doubledollars into Wolfwood's hand. "Wouldn't've felt right, burying Father Thomas without a proper service."

Wolfwood slipped the coins into his pocket. "Thanks. The Lord provides, I guess."

"I guess. You staying in town tonight?" Wolfwood nodded. "Him too?" He pointed at the snoring figure in the back of the church.

"Yeah. Him too."

"Well, head on over to the Hotel Ann. We're pretty full up right now, only a couple of singles left, but I'll get you a good rate on whatever we got." He headed for the door, then called back over his shoulder: "And if you're heading towards New Oregon, my brother's the local undertaker. Last I heard, he could use the help." The door swung gently shut behind him.

Pulling a cigarette out of his jacket, Wolfwood flicked a match and watched the tiny fire dance. "Tongari?" Vash didn't move, but the snoring ceased abruptly. "You need a shower, and I need a drink." Cigarette lit, the priest retrieved the gigantic canvas-wrapped cross from the corner of the nave and hoisted it over one shoulder. "C'mon. Drinks're on me tonight."

"Why didn't you say so?" A blur of blond and beige flashed across the aisle, and Vash bounced eagerly in the entryway. "That Chinese restaurant over by the hotel looked good. I want that spicy soup, and that egg noodle thing, and…"

"Who said anything about dinner?"

"Drinking on an empty stomach is bad for you, you know. And broccoli with those little white seeds, and…"

"I'm not buying you dinner!"

"You're mean!"

Wolfwood sighed. "Fine. But damn, Tongari, you're showering first."

"Mean!"

*-*-*

"It would've been nice to have gotten two rooms," Vash commented, tossing the canvas jacket onto the closest chair. Wolfwood snorted, then headed toward the tiny bathroom.

"You wanna go get a job and rent another room, be my guest."

"At least they could've given us a room with two beds!"

"What're you saying, Tongari?"

"I'm saying you steal the covers!" Wolfwood emerged, drying his hands.

"You're one to talk, poking me with your cold feet."

"They wouldn't be cold if you didn't steal the blankets!"

"Hey. Tongari."

"Yeah?"

Wolfwood dropped down into one of the chairs, shucked out of the black jacket, and cracked the seal on a brown bottle. "Shut up and drink with me already."

Pouting slightly, Vash sat, long legs folding neatly under the table. Wolfwood magically produced two glasses, measured several shots into each, and slid one across to the blond.

"What should we drink to?" Vash asked.

"Since when do we need a reason to drink?" Wolfwood's glass was already half empty, Vash saw.

He's exhausted. Looks older, too - two years shouldn't've aged him like that.

"Since you're so thirsty, let's drink to whiskey!" The comment earned him a raised eyebrow.

"Least I can hold my liquor, Tie-head."

"Tie-head?! What's that supposed to… oh. Right. Was that your tie?" Wolfwood refilled his glass.

"Nope. Wasn't yours?"

"No. Wonder where it came from?" Vash's brow furrowed in pretense of deep thought, then he beamed. "Let's drink to the Tie-Guy!"

"The Tie-Guy it is. Cheers." The glasses clinked softly together, and the whiskey was dark and smooth.

Vash smacked his lips as he set the glass down. "That's good!" He waited for Wolfwood to top off the glass, then raised it. "Oh, yeah! Thanks for the food and the booze, Wolfwood!"

"Don't thank me. Thank Father Thomas."

Aw, shit. Why'd I say that?

"Er, I mean…" He raised his glass. "Here's to Father Thomas, who lived a long life and died in bed of old age. Lucky bastard." Vash's smile slipped away from his eyes, but he seconded the toast.

"To Father Thomas! May he rest in love and peace!"

"Close enough." They drank. "You'd've made a good priest, y'know." Vash snorted, slamming the glass onto the table.

"Me? A priest?" He laughed, a real, full laugh. "That's a good one!"

Wolfwood grinned back, forgoing the glass to swig directly from the bottle. "S'true. You go on about 'love and peace' more'n any clergy I ever met."

Of course, the clergy I know aren't quite normal, but still…

Vash threw his head back, gasping for breath. "Me…! A priest! Would I get one of those backbreaking crosses of yours?"

"Hey, don't knock it. All that mercy has t'get carried around somehow!" Vash reclaimed his overfull glass, giggling. Wolfwood rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette.

"B'sides, I'm not entirely kidding. You might like it." He took a drag, and exhaled a grey-blue cloud toward the ceiling. "When all… this is done with, anyway. Get to wear stunning duds like this, "he gestured to his rumpled, unbuttoned shirt, "instead of that butthugging leather thing."

Wherever it went. Y'know, you don't look quite like you without it, and that ridiculous coat.

You look happier.

Vash batted his eyes. "You were looking at my butt?"

"You walk too fast. It was either watch your butt or stare at fifty million iles of nothing for four days. Why d'you think I bought that fine piece of machinery outside?"

"First you were staring at my butt, then you got bored with staring at my butt. You are mean!"

"I was not staring…! Why are we talking about your butt anyway?"

"You brought it up."

"Well, I'm unbringing it up." He sucked on the cigarette again. "What were we talking about, before…before?"

"I think you were convincing me of my vocation." Vash snickered again. " 'Vash the priest.' "

"Right, right. Well, you're good with kids, right? Helping the downtrodden, that whole bit?"

Yeah, we both know it's bullshit, but at least it's happy bullshit. Something to think about that isn't tomorrow.

He swigged off the bottle again, then waved it for emphasis. "Drinking is encouraged, too. 'Least in my church."

Careful…

"This life-as-a-wandering-hero thing gets pretty lonely. With the church, it's like you've got family in every town." Another puff of smoke drifted skyward.

"Family, huh?"

Oops.

"Yeah. Like the insurance girls, or that kid and her Baasan."

The false smile reappeared. "Yeah. I kinda miss those girls. Wonder where they are?"

"Don't say that! You'll make'em appear, and the little one'll start yelling!" Vash drained his glass.

"Yeah." Something almost imperceptible changed in his expression. "Hey, Wolfwood…?"

"What?"

"You never answered my question."

"Which question was that, Tongari?"

Something happened to you, Wolfwood. Something happened in these past two years that aged you ten. Something ground your anger down to a point, and wielding it is wearing you out. Something burned a hole in you.

I don't want to ask. I don't want to know. He's to blame for so much already…

But he's my problem to solve.

So tell me, Wolfwood,

"How do you know about Knives?"

Silence.

Wolfwood sat back, lit another cigarette, and listened for a moment. None of his internal alarms were going off. No panic. No fear.

He met Vash's eyes.

Still no fear.

Curious but not suspicious?

Ok. I can do this. Tell him the part about the kids, and maybe he'll leave it alone.

…

Deep breath.

"I didn't even know his name until recently," he began. "Just scared orphans, coming in with stories of a crazy blond guy. Most of 'em thought it was you."

There. That's your reason. Shut the fuck up now, Nick.

…

I'm such an idiot.

"All I know is what I've heard, and what I've heard makes him sound a lot like you, only insane. Fast. Strong. No qualms against killing; sounds like he enjoys it, actually." Vash's eyes flashed at that, but Wolfwood didn't notice.

"I'm going to find him. And I'm going to stop him. I'm gonna need your help, though, 'cause I don't think I can kill him on my own."

"Wolfwood…"

"No! This man kills children, Vash! No amount of reasoning'll ever stop him! Keep your pacifism to yourself on this one, because it won't work. A guy like that, you can't just throw him in jail, or ask him nicely, or even beat him up and threaten him! Fuck what you say, and fuck what he says, and fuck you if you're not with me on this one!"

Vash's forearm twitched, and the glass in his hand exploded. Wolfwood's head jerked up in surprise, and he froze at what he saw.

Fuck him.

Kill him.

A trickle of blood dripped from Vash's hand onto the table.

"Tongari?"

He wants to kill Knives.

Knives wants to kill everyone.

He needs my help. To kill my brother. Who wants to destroy the planet.

Who wants me to be alone.

…

Wolfwood. He's my brother, my responsibility. I won't let you kill him.

But I want your help in stopping him.

And I think you want this as badly as I do.

Knives. You can't stop me.

It's my decision.

I'm tired of being alone.

Wolfwood couldn't look away, his forgotten cigarette smoldering away to nothing.

Vash, pinning the priest down with sunsbright green eyes, wouldn't look away.

"Little brother, don't do this," threatened the Knives in his mind. "If you do this, you'll get hurt. He'll get hurt."

Shut up, Knives.

"You can't…! Don't betray me like this! Only I…!"

With deliberate slowness, Vash opened his hand and dropped the glass shards onto the tabletop, then pushed his chair back, bloody palm flat on the pitted wood.

"He could never be to you what I was!"

I'm counting on that.

A shiver prickled down Wolfwood's spine.

Someone walking on my grave.

Vash's expression shifted indescribably. Deepened. Opened.

Beckoned.

Did he just…is he…

Fuck. Not gonna kill me, then.

But oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

This is a really really bad idea, Wolfwood.

…

Like that ever stopped me before.

Midvalley said the Master'd kill me for this. Said he'd kill my kids.

He mean Legato? Legato's crazy enough to do it, and enjoy it, but he answers to Knives wherever Vash is involved, and oh fuck this would get Vash involved.

If it's Knives…

--Legato crumpling on the cliff, his bones collapsing in on themselves as skin gave way and muscles shredded--

If it's Knives I'm dead anyway. We all are.

…

Ok, Tongari. I'll play. No fun without high stakes anyway.

Your move.

Something was exchanged, something agreed upon, though neither man spoke. Neither man moved. Neither man breathed. Down the hall, the floor creaked as a distant door opened, and Vash was upon him, shirt flying off as the muscular man threw the table aside. Wolfwood leapt to his feet, stumbling over the chair as he struggled for balance. One cold hand caught at Wolfwood's collar as the other flew past, reaching out as they fell together.

They hit the floorboards hard, mouths clashing, seeking control. The unyielding synthetics of Vash's gunarm knotted in the priest's hair, twisting his head up and back. Wolfwood hissed as Vash released his mouth and moved downward, nipping roughly at the junction of throat and shoulder. The other hand - already scabbing over, Wolfwood noticed absently - clawed at the buttons on Wolfwood's shirt, popping the threads and sending the buttons dancing out into the room.

"Fuck, Tongari, hold on a...ahh!" Vash's hand burned through the thin cotton of Wolfwood's pants, palm pressing against the restrained bulge. Wolfwood tried to sit up, reaching for his belt buckle in a feeble attempt to save at least one piece of clothing.

Vash released his grip on Wolfwood's already-aching cock and slowly unfastened the belt buckle, then the buttons on Wolfwood's fly. Then he paused.

"No underwear?"

"No laundry money." A beat. Wolfwood swallowed heavily. "So. You wanna discuss my wardrobe or do you wanna fuck me?"

The hand fisted in his hair released, and came to rest on Wolfwood's hip. "I just… I…" Suddenly cautious, Vash gazed down at the panting man beneath him, drinking in every detail, from the straining cock to the narrowed, midnight-black eyes. Naked need met naked need, and the moment's hesitation was gone as quickly as it came. "Fuck you. So much." He gripped the priest's hipbones tightly enough to bruise.

"Slick. In my jacket..." Vash slid Wolfwood's slacks down and off, tracing the expanse of freed skin with his tongue. "In the, ah, fuck…!" he gasped, as Vash ran a very hot tongue along the bottom of his dick, flicking the head lightly before swallowing him completely. "Ah, Jesus!" Vash swallowed once, throat muscles twitching against the head of Wolfwood's cock, making Wolfwood moan and try to claw through the floor.

Vash pulled off with a pop, and grinned.

"In your jacket?" Wolfwood closed his eyes and tried to remember to breathe.

"Yeah. Inside pocket, somewhere." He waved one hand toward the broken chair. "Over there?"

"Over…. ah." Wolfwood felt Vash shift, then a cold wet hand slid down one leg to cradle his balls. "Found it."

Vash's hand glided over Wolfwood's cock, sliding up and over the head with light, teasing strokes, then down to the patch of thick black hair and back up again, slow, feathery touches. It was too much of not enough. Wolfwood reached down for Vash's hand, face, anything. Vash seized the priest's wrist and held it firmly against the floor while continuing his careful ministrations.

Wolfwood's hips bucked in frustration. "More…"

"More?"

"Yes, dammit!" He thrust into Vash's hand again, but the blond pulled his hand back, leaving only the thumb to rub against the thick vein. "Harder, or faster, or just fuck me already, but enough of this…"

Vash circled Wolfwood's leaking head with one fingertip. "Ask me nicely."

"What? What the hell…?" Wolfwood struggled to rise, but Vash was faster. In an instant, the priest found himself pinned completely, arms held at his sides, and the balance of Vash's weight on his stomach. "Tongari…!"

Vash leaned forward, teeth grazing the rim of Wolfwood's ear, sending shivers down the darker man's spine. "Ask. Me. Nicely."

"Tongari, I…please."

"That's better," Vash growled, pulling back to meet Wolfwood's eyes. "Now. Stay still." There was no give in his voice. Wolfwood froze, half unbelieving and half obedient, as Vash raised his shoulders, then rocked his hips back and smoothly impaled himself on Wolfwood's aching cock.

The blond's internal muscles fluttered, adjusting to the new fullness, and a rivulet of sweat ran down his scarred chest. Trembling and panting, he arched his back, sliding up and down Wolfwood's length, tight and hot. Wolfwood didn't dare move, hardly dared breathe. Vash clenched around Wolfwood's cock, hard, and Wolfwood's bitten-off cry went straight to Vash's dick. He twisted and rolled and bounced as Wolfwood groaned and writhed under him, head flung back, gasping for breath, drawing nearer, nearer, then Wolfwood stiffened, every muscle taunt, and thrust once, twice, and Vash squeezed and Wolfwood screamed…

Wolfwood came back to himself with a faceful of stiff blond hair. "Mmm. Tongari."

"Yeah?" the blond muttered into his chest.

"Bed's probably more comfortable than the floor."

"Mmm. That requires moving."

"…Tongari?"

"Mmm?"

"You destroyed my shirt."

"Yeah? Sorry. Oh!" The blond rose shakily to a sitting position, releasing Wolfwood's bruised wrists as he did so.

"Oh. Um. Wolfwood…? I…Did I hurt you?"

"No. Well, yeah, but don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry! But I…"

"…Vash."

"Yeah?"

"Get off of me, and let's go to bed already."

*-*-*

Wolfwood strolled down the street, Punisher hoisted over one shoulder, lost in thought.

What the hell was that? Dammit, Tongari, every time I think I've got you figured out you pull some shit like that. How many personalities you got in that pointy head, anyway?

I think we're both fucked. No regrets, never, but this is gonna catch up with us. With me, anyway.

So I might as well enjoy it while I can, right?

The aroma of toast and frying eggs drifted out of the small café on the corner, and Wolfwood's stomach growled. A search of his pockets revealed a single lonely doubledollar. Wolfwood sighed, then ducked under the awning and into the restaurant.

"What can I get for this?" The waitress scowled at the single coin.

"Coffee 'n toast."

"To go?" She scowled again, then turned back to the grill. Wolfwood smiled sheepishly, and leaned against the wall, fiddling with the Tabasco bottle.

So now what? We go on like before? Pretend it never happened, until next time? Will there be a next time?

Do I want there to be a next time?

I like the dumbass. Even if I didn't need his help, I'd still stick with him.

…

I am completely fucked.

The coffee was steaming on the counter and the toast almost done when the front of the hotel exploded. Five seconds later, Wolfwood was running down the street, Cross Punisher in hand.