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No Rain	By : blynkin108 Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 4334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
I wanted to fall asleep. I begged for it, prayed for it, but it never came. Vash had long since stopped tossing and turning and had finally settled on a comfortable position. Which happened to be him draped over me like a humanoid blanket. I didn’t mind, though, except for the rather odd sensation of his grate pressing against my ribs. I ran my hand through his hair, once again marveling at how soft it was. For the first time ever, I found myself genuinely content to just exist, if only existence were confined to this room, this hotel.
But my life couldn’t be that simple anymore. It never really had been. I had just crossed one of the most dangerous lines in my life, and there was no way to redraw it this time. No matter which way I spun it, the fact remained that Vash knew who I was and why I was here. And yet… I looked down at him, his eyelashes forming dark crescents on his cheeks. He trusted me. For whatever reason, he felt safe here. Safe enough to fall asleep.
He looked so at peace like that, so innocent. I’d never seen him that truly at peace before, and I was suddenly overcome with the urge to do something so he could keep that peace, so I would never have to see the worry and pain in his eyes again. For a brief moment, I actually did consider killing him, giving him that peace for all eternity. But, selfish as I am, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that killing him would kill something inside of me, something that only he had been able to bring to light. He’d done that with others, too; awakened something in them. What truly mystified me, though, was that somehow I awakened something in him, too.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting my other senses take over. There was the warmth of the extra blankets and his body. The strange sensation of a bolt pressed against my ribs. Vash’s breath feathering over my collarbone as he slept. And the smell of soap and gunpowder and grease and cigarette smoke. And there, below everything, was his mind thrumming next to mine. It was sort of like having a contented, purring cat in my skull; warm and fuzzy and a little tickly. I adored the feeling of that, of being connected to him, even though that put him in more danger than anything else that could have possibly happened.
I reached out to ‘pet’ the cat, and it raised its head and looked at me, mewed softly, then turned around and trotted off down the tunnel. I followed it a little ways before realizing that I’d be crossing over into Vash’s mind if I went much further. I started to turn around, but the cat looked back at me and mewed again, waiting for me to catch up. I shrugged and followed it. I wouldn’t go poking around in the dark corners; just a quick peek and then home again.
The cat stopped at a huge stainless steel door. It looked quite a bit like some of the doors at the Mausoleum. I stuck out a hand to push the door aside, and it opened automatically, shifting sideways into the frame with a soft shhh. What lay beyond the door was probably one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. It was a vast green landscape, rolling fields of grass and trees, small shrubs and even flowers. Little yellow flowers dotting the hillsides. I walked through the grass for a ways, marveling at the way it slid around my shoes and the quiet schff it made with each step. I had the crazy idea to strip off my shoes and socks and go gallivanting about the hillside barefoot. I suppressed the urge. I wasn’t sure if I’d get another chance, but now wasn’t the time for frivolity. I scanned the landscape, and my eyes came to rest on a huge tree. There were three people standing under the tree, they appeared to be a woman and two children. With a thought, I was suddenly perched in the branches of the tree, looking down on the trio.
The woman was relatively tall, with long dark hair and dark eyes. She was classically beautiful, with a warm smile and a sweet voice. The two kids were nearly identical; the only difference was that one had darker hair than the other. The darker-haired one set a picnic basket down on the grass directly beneath the branch I was perched on. He looked up at me, directly into my eyes, and smiled secretively. He knew I was there, but was content to just let me watch, for now. In that instant our eyes met, I knew the child was Vash. There was no mistaking those eyes.
Vash looked back at the picnic basket and opened the lid.
“Rem?” he looked up at the woman. So that was Rem. “Did you make enough plain peanut butter ones this time?”
“If your brother doesn’t eat them all,” she replied, and smiled. “Knives!” she called to the other boy, who had wandered down the hill a little ways. I blinked, then stared hard at the child ambling back toward the blanket spread over the grass. Knives. The ‘scary motherfucker,’ I knew and hated with every fibre of my being. An icy tendril of shock squeezed my heart when I hear that he was Vash’s brother. The man that I hated and the man that I… They had the same face.
Vash looked up at me again, his big green eyes all innocent charm.
“Are you going to come down?”
I chewed my lip, not wanting to interfere. Although reason told me I already had and it was a bit late to try and disappear. Vash smiled again, a real smile, and waited patiently. Figuring I couldn’t do any more damage, I jumped down out of the tree. It was further down than I thought. When I turned to look at Vash, we were at eye-level. I looked down at myself, and I was startled to discover I was wearing the shorts and t-shirt that was my daily uniform in Aunt Kaede’s house. I ran a hand over my chin, and it was missing its characteristic stubble. I reached up to feel my nose, which was still too big for my face. Dammit. I pouted a bit and Vash giggled, then reached out and tweaked it. I scowled, he grinned and took off running. Quick as a flash I was after him, careening around trees in hot pursuit of the nose-tweaking little shit. When I got close enough, I launched myself at him, and we went tumbling down the hill, a tangle of arms and legs. Somehow, Vash managed to maneuver himself so he was the one who had me pinned to the ground, hands on my shoulders.
Suddenly, the vision shifted, and I watched as Vash’s face aged right before my eyes. His eyes shifted as well, melting from vivid green to aquamarine as the years passed in a moment.
We were in the street in November now, Vash grinning above me. His grin faded, and he leaned down, closer…so close that I could smell the garlic and wine on his breath. Then he kissed me. The warmth of his mouth fanned the fire in my belly and I responded to his lips, nipping at them as my tongue made a thorough exploration of his mouth. My arms came up and wrapped themselves around his waist, pulling him to me. Vash’s fingers were running through my hair, teasing lightly over the nape of my neck and giving me goosebumps. I pressed up against him and groaned into his mouth.
I opened my eyes, expecting to stare into his, but all I saw was a white plaster ceiling. Dammit, that was just starting to get interesting. Never fails. I looked down at Vash, whose breathing had picked up a bit. He made a frustrated little noise, and shifted. The recent mental exercise had had a very noticeable effect on Vash. And if I didn’t get out of this bed, I’d molest him in his sleep. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that made it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself, but I was going to have to try. I had a lot to think about, and Vash was incredibly distracting.
I slid out from under Vash, being very careful not to wake him, and padded across the room to the table. I sat down and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag that almost made me cough. The window cast a perfect rectangle of moonlight on a bare patch of floor. I peered through the dingy glass, and saw the First Moon, the largest of the five, illuminating the rooftops of November. It looked like someone had inverted all the colors of the city. The illusion matched my mood. I felt as though someone had inverted my entire consciousness. And for once, it hadn’t been the blue-haired bastard. It had been the blue-haired bastard’s boss’s brother. Twin brother. The irony of my situation nearly made me laugh aloud. If I wasn’t stuck in the middle of it, I’d probably be laughing at myself right now. But my dilemma wasn’t really a laughing matter.
I’d been told so many times that Vash was never allowed to know my purpose or my ‘true’ identity. I’d effectively shot that mandate straight to hell. Twice. But what was my identity? I’d never really been a part of the Gung-Ho Guns. I’d excluded myself from them a very long time ago. I’d never really fit anywhere else, either. The only place I’d ever really felt comfortable was Home, and even then I was something that wasn’t quite me. There were two different lives I led, one at the orphanage and one on the road. At Home, I was Brother Nicholas, the priest and operator of the orphanage. On the road I was Chapel, or as close to Chapel as I could get. He’d never let me actually think myself worthy of being his equal. Not that I wanted to be, I guess. But the Mausoleum had been conspicuously lacking in role models, and I suppose Chapel was better than some I could have tried to emulate. Having Chapel as a mentor was almost comfortingly familiar in a way. Except for the belt-marks, he was remarkably similar to Uncle Roger. Never there, never satisfied, ultra-critical of everything I did. Perhaps it was that familiarity that allowed me to remember my childhood with such clarity, allowed me to cling to whatever it was that kept me just this side of sane. Clinging to my memories allowed me to believe that I was still human. And I knew that for the most part I was still, but that’s a little difficult to remember when you’ve seen everyone around you transformed into something…other.
I remember Grey the most, I think. He’d been just a baby when they’d brought him in, not more than a year old at most. They’d hooked him up to all kinds of machines, breathing tubes, the works. Every time I’d be in the infirmary after a bout with Legato, I’d stare at him, watching him over the course of months or years transform into something that was entirely non-human. They must have given him some of the same things they gave me, because he grew fast. Too fast for his small body. They gave him a new skeleton after they discovered that his own hadn’t been able to keep up. And then it just got worse from there. They added weaponry, shields, made him even larger than he was already until the only thing left of him that was recognizable was his face. And even that had begun to change right before I left. I probably wouldn’t even recognize him now, if I saw him.
I guess it was a combination of my own life and watching all the others grow up around me in that place that made me start the orphanage. A place where kids could be kids without having to worry about anything else. Sister Fran and I did all their worrying for them. It’s a tough job, trying to keep thirty-two kids fed. But somehow, we did it. Somehow, we made the money stretch long enough. Somehow, I always brought in another bounty right when we needed it most. And somehow, we were always able to keep enough food in their bellies and enough clothes on their backs.
I guess at the beginning, when this whole fiasco started, I was kind of hoping to cash in on The Bounty. I mean, apart from the money I was given to even get me out here, I could have had sixty billion double dollars to add to the orphanage coffers. I couldn’t even fathom that amount of money. I was lucky to have a couple hundred in my pocket to last me two months on the road. With that kind of cash, I’d’ve never had to go out on the road again.
But there never seemed to be an opportune time for it. I couldn’t have done it on the bus, when I first met him. That would have been…awkward. And that little bi-er, Meryl, would have doubtless had something to say about it. I probably could have pulled it off during the Quick Draw Tournament. But after watching him in action, I didn’t really have a prayer against him. Certainly not by myself. The only time I might have been able to do it with any chance of success was during the caravan incident, but by then…it was too late. Too late, because I’d decided that I wanted him as an ally more than I wanted him in jail. I’d wanted him more than I wanted the money. And now… Things had all gotten so complicated. I knew I’d never been as happy as when I was in Vash’s arms. But what was the cost of that happiness? I couldn’t really bring myself to sacrifice everything I’d worked so hard to achieve for this, could I?
A shadow passed across the moon, plunging the tiny hotel room into darkness for a moment. The Fourth Moon. It’s orbit was so quick, it was only in the sky for three minutes at a time, several times a night. Since it was passing in front of the First Mon, it was probably close to three-thirty in the morning.
The shadow had interrupted my contemplation of a particularly sticky question, and I didn’t know the answer. As the First Moon shone again, a peculiar shadow fell across the table. When I looked up to see what had made it, my eyes feel on the Cross Punisher. I stood silently, and even more silently walked over and unwrapped the Right Arm. I removed a single pistol, checked to make certain it was loaded, then laid it carefully in the center of the table. I sat down again and lit another cigarette. I stared at the gun, memorized the way it nearly glowed in the light of the Moons, and willed it to tell me what to do, how to move forward. But all it said was ‘death,’ and I wasn’t sure if that meant his…or mine.
I wasn’t foolish enough to think that killing myself would do any good. I would accept Death if she came for me, but I would not willingly invite her in. It seemed that death was reaching out to me more clearly now, with open arms. She was seeking me out, calling to me, but I could never quite reach her. Just like my dreams, I always regained consciousness and I always kept on living. I couldn’t quite decide if that was a blessing or a curse. I thought back to all the times I’d woken up to face another day, and it floored me that Vash had done the same thing for almost five times as long. Over a hundred years old. A hundred and thirty. I shivered, and not just because the room was a bit chilly and I was still naked.
Vash had told me more about himself tonight than he’d told anyone before. That much was obvious. I kind of felt like a heel for being so insecure that I’d gotten into yet another spat with him. By all rights, he should want to kick my ass to the curb and tell me to get the fuck out. Instead he’d…I mean I’d…we’d…yeah. I felt the beginnings of a stupidly cheesy grin spread across my face just thinking about it. It was probably the most fantastic experience of my life, and he hadn’t even touched me. God only knew what would happen if he ever did. Annnnnnd I really shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.
Almost against my will, and definitely against my better judgment, I turned to look at Vash, who had turned onto his stomach and was facing the table, one shoulder shrugged out of the blankets. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him. I’d known that since I’d met him. I mean, are you kidding? Do you know how many times I’ve thought about having him in chains? And even after everything, the wanting hadn’t faded. Hadn’t even wavered. But I knew I couldn’t have him. Tonight had been wonderful, my wildest – well, maybe not my wildest - fantasy come true, but that didn’t stop it from being…wrong. I was working for the man that wanted to kill him for Christ’s sake. And every time I thought about that, my chest got tight. It felt like my heart was trying to rip itself out. And I didn’t know why. Why he had that kind of effect on me, why he could make me feel both amazing and ashamed at the same time.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to pound my fist on the table. And I wanted a drink, too. But it was four in the morning and every bar in November was closed. Besides, I had a bus to catch in the morning, anyway.
A bus to catch.
Yeah, that bus was taking me all the way back to the Mausoleum. Back to the hell I’d tried to leave behind nine years ago. I’d only been on the road for three months, now. I found that difficult to believe. And I’d only been ‘in contact’ with my target for all of five or six weeks. Granted, not all of that time was spent actually with Vash, so I guess we’d spent all of maybe…three weeks actually talking. And we didn’t even really talk. We drank, and he babbled at me. Well, except for once. One time where I’d actually talked to him, instead of trying to ignore him. I probably would have ended up telling him everything, if the girls hadn’t been listening at the door. And now this.
I stared at the table, moonlight magnifying the ridges in the cheap paperboard until they looked like huge ravines, so huge that I could fall down into one of them and never be found again. I found myself wanting to slip away, hide somewhere until the bus left in the morning and not have to confront Vash about everything that was swirling around in my mind. But he deserved to know. Most of it he did know, and that was unnerving in and of itself. He’d had it all figured out a long time ago. I silently mused about using that as a defense against the eventual bitching out I’d get from Legato or, God forbid, Knives. ‘Vash already knew about me, so I didn’t have a cover to blow. What did you want me to do?’ Of course, I knew their answer would be ‘Lie,’ so I didn’t get much farther with my defense than that.
Lying and killing and revenge. What wonderful lessons to teach children, Knives. What a beautiful way to create a still-imperfect breed of killing machines. Because somewhere along the way, we’d been taught to hate ourselves, too. It wasn’t all that difficult for me - I already had a guilt complex about my mother, thanks to Uncle Roger’s drunken invectives - and finding out that the human race was unworthy as a species didn’t really improve my view of myself. If anything, it validated it and made it more real. I had always known that The Master, as I’d been told to call him, and Legato were not human. I hadn’t really known what they were, but since they were better than us, they couldn’t be human. After all, that was my biggest sin in the first place. I was human and therefore fundamentally flawed. The Master was non-human and therefore perfect, like a god. And Legato had certainly always seen Him that way. But after my first, and only, ‘audience’ with The Master, I’d begun to wonder if he wasn’t the devil himself made flesh. Bringing the angels low.
I suppose that’s just one more thing I had to thank Chapel for: my training in religion. Not faith, because he’d lost his long ago and I’d never really been able to acquire any in the Mausoleum, anyway. But he schooled us that God was a power to be feared and loved. That dichotomy had always mystified me, because how could you love something you fear? If you love it, then you no longer fear it, right?
I listened to Vash’s light breathing. He coughed once in his sleep, and then turned over on his side. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, again. I slowly stood up and walked over to the window, a fresh cigarette dangling from my lips. The old one had gone out while I was ruminating on the past. If there was one thing that I might be able to hate him for, it was that he made me think about everything that I’d rather leave behind. He made me remember those long, dark nights alone in my room, listening for footsteps.
And after the footsteps, there was the inevitable knock on my door. In the beginning, I’d tried to ignore it. Dante had grown wise to that trick really quickly and took to cornering me after evening training. I kept trying to fight him off. I’d push him away, spit insults at him…I even kicked him in the balls a couple times. Anything to get him away from me. But he was relentless. And…talented as well. Even if I didn’t want to give in to him, after a while I didn’t really have a choice. His musician’s hands would always find just the right place, his lips would find just the right pressure, and I was gone. Sometimes I think he got off on me calling him a bastard as I came.
Legato’s fury at our little trysts had the opposite effect of the one he was going for. After all, anything that made him angry, visibly angry, gave me a twisted feeling of pleasure. Especially when I was the one causing it. For a while, I was stuck between hating Dante and ‘getting even’ with Legato, but eventually getting even overruled whatever hatred I had felt for Dante.
It had taken a long time, but in spite of myself I grew to enjoy those nights. And near the end, I’d sometimes actually lie awake and hope that I would hear footsteps; that Dante would come for me that night. Dante was by no stretch of the imagination an affectionate person. He was as cold and detached as the rest of them. But on those nights, there would be a spark, just a hint of what he could have been. What any of us could have been if we’d ever been given a chance. But none of them had even had half a chance. Except maybe me. And I think that’s why I never really became the cold, uncaring bastard I could have. If Obasan hadn’t died, I would have… Ah, what the hell good is wondering about things that never happened?
The blood-spattered kitchen resurfaced in my mind, and I tried to push it away as I felt a strange constricting in the back of my throat, and my eyes started to burn. Oh God, I wasn’t gonna… A huge fat tear rolled down my cheek and splattered on the windowsill. It turned the plaster dark for a few moments, then dried. I could still barely make out the outline in the moonlight, which had grown brighter since the third moon had finally risen. That meant it was almost four-thirty in the morning now. I might as well just stay up, then.
I stood there in the semi-darkness, still completely naked, and waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for anymore, just that I knew if I waited, something would happen. And something did. A smallish black cat jumped up on the windowsill of the hotel. Lord knows how it got there, seeing as how we were on the second floor and all, but it was there nonetheless, and it stared at me with these huge green eyes. It just sat there, staring at me, for what seemed like an hour. Then it yowled so loudly I heard it through the window, and leapt off the sill onto another one. Don’t ask me to explain how a small black cat finally led me to a decision; I’ll probably never know the answer. But in that instant, I knew that there had to be a way to save everyone I cared about. That there had to be a way to save the orphanage and Vash and even Millie and Meryl. I just had to find it and exploit it. And maybe Vash could help me. Maybe. Only the dawn could say for certain.
I continued to stare out the window, trying to wrack my brain for the answer I just couldn’t see. It was incredibly frustrating, to know that there’s a way to do something and you just can’t see it. Like visiting a city you used to know by heart, only to find that you can’t remember that little side street your favorite bar was on. Time ticked by, the third moon made its short circuit in the heavens, and the sky began to turn grey. It was nearly five in the morning, now. Which gave me an idea.
I quickly and quietly dressed, and headed down to the Hotel Restaurant. I’d surprise Vash with coffee and…donuts. Just the thought of his expression at seeing a heaping plate of fresh donuts made the expense worth it, and it also put a smile on my face. Even though I knew the worst of everything was yet to come, the thought of Vash smiling seemed to remove me from the immediacy of it all.
I bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and skidded to a halt in front of the still-locked restaurant. The woman at the counter gawped at me as I waited for them to open. I stood at the door for ten minutes, waiting for them to open. I watched the waitresses take down the chairs and set the tables, and finally, right at five on the little clock above the counter, the hostess came and unlocked the door. I gave her my patented heart-stopping grin and strode to the counter to place my order: a dozen donuts and two cups of coffee, one with cream and sugar. To go.
It was a precarious arrangement, trying to get two coffees and twelve donuts up the stairs and into the room. On several occasions, I was certain that I’d spill everything and my lovely little idea would have been for naught. But it all turned out alright in the end, and at five-fifteen, I was unlocking the door to my room. I swung the door open, and Vash was half hanging out of the window. He spun around, and his hand hovered over his right hip, where his gun would have been, if he hadn’t been completely naked. I smirked.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he yelled at me. It wasn’t the pleasant greeting I was hoping for, although I should have realized I wasn’t going to be greeted with a kiss and a pat on the ass when I saw him go for the gun-that-wasn’t-there. But he didn’t have to shout like that, did he?
“A good morning to you too, asshole. Nice gun by the way.” Vash blushed, all the way to his toes. So it did go all the way down. Good to know.
“I thought…something had happened to you. I was gonna go looking for you.”
I quirked an eyebrow.
“Naked?”
“A minor detail!”
“I wouldn’t call that minor, Needle-noggin.” I replied as I gave him a once-over, and walked over to the table to set the tray down. No, definitely not minor at all. If he went out like that… I did not want to be fighting off a gaggle of rabid, horny girls.
“I was worried, dammit. And how many times must I ask you NOT to call me that? Needle-noggin this, Broomhead that. You don’t see me calling you ‘The Schnozz’ now, do you?” Vash put his hands on his hips and glared at me. I crossed my eyes, trying to get a good look at my nose.
“The Schnozz?” I asked. “It’s not that big, is it?” I mean, yeah. One does not go through life ignorant of a nose like mine. But I’d never really thought it was big enough to deserve a comment like that. Vash’s hair, on the other hand, was so outrageous it bordered on insanity.
“That’s not the point here. The point is, I am sick and tired of being called Needle-noggin. Or Broomhead. Or ‘that idiot.’ Please, I am begging you, please don’t call me that anymore.”
I thought about it for a few minutes while I sipped my coffee. It wasn’t that I couldn’t call him Vash, but… I guess it was a way for me to forget who he was. It was a way for me to distance myself from his reputation and his history. But something that wasn’t ‘Needle-noggin,’ huh? I skimmed through some other words that weren’t quite so…derogatory before finally coming up with one. In nihongo, no less, so he’d have no idea it meant ‘spiky.’
“How about…Tongari?”
“That had better not mean ‘shithead’ or something similar,” he replied, scowling. Geez, I couldn’t remember ever actually calling him ‘shithead.’ Dumbass, yeah, all the time. He deserved that one. But shithead? That was a tad on the cruel side, even for me.
“No worries there. If I had wanted to call you shithead, I’d just come out and do it.” Not that I ever would, but there was always that chance.
“Then what does it mean?” Oh, crap. I thought for a couple of seconds, and then I got one of those terrible, horrible, no good very bad ideas that just grabs ahold of your brain and won’t let go. My eyes went all soft, and I sort of pouted my lips a bit and replied, “Sweetie-honey-punkin-bear?” I tried my damnedest not to laugh as I continued to bat my eyes at him ridiculously. He stared at me for a couple of seconds before dashing over to the table, yanking the bag of donuts off the tray and whirling into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Fuck. Maybe messing around hadn’t been such a good idea. But, if he was pissed, why the hell did he take the donuts into the bathroom? I narrowed my eyes at the bathroom door.
“Oi! I paid a lot of money for those!” I yelled at the door before stalking over and rattling the knob. He’d locked it too. The bastard.
“You shoulda thought of that before you said…whatever the hell that drivel was. Must you always insult me?”
“I was trying to be cute. Apparently it didn’t work. Now come on, get out of the bathroom, huh?” I rattled the knob again, then kicked the door. I wasn’t sure how sweetie-honey-punkin-bear was an insult, but I wasn’t going to argue that point.
“Not till you apologize. And tell me what ‘Tongari’ means. Better hurry, though, because I’m really hungry.” Not only was he locked in the bathroom with the donuts, he was eating all of them. I growled, literally growled in frustration, then kicked the door again, a little harder this time. If I was going to get any of those donuts, I’d better do some quick thinking. Well, being cute hadn’t worked, so I might as well try the truth. It never really did me any good, but hey, it was worth a shot, right?
“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. And it means…‘spiky.’” I could feel myself blushing, and I wasn’t even sure why.
“Spiky? And this is different from Needle-noggin…HOW?” Yeah, he had a point, and maybe that was why I was blushing. But, it was nihongo, dammit. I’d never so much as spoken three words of that language to anyone since I was ten, mostly because it was one of those…private things. One of those things you just didn’t share. So yeah, it was different from Needle-noggin. There was a memory attached to that word. A memory I hadn’t shared with anyone, but was willing to share with him.
“Because it’s what my aunt used to call the asparagus.” Don’t ask me why Obasan gave nicknames to the produce in our kitchen garden, but she did. And the asparagus just happened to be ‘tongari.’ Maybe because it was sharp at the end, I don’t really know.
“That hole you’re digging is just getting deeper by the minute.” He paused. “And this bag is getting emptier.” Hole? I was digging a hole? What the hell? I’d told him what the fucking word meant, and I even told him why. And I was digging myself a hole? Give me a fucking BREAK.
“It was my aunt. It has sen-ti-men-tal value. I’d tell you the story, but you’d eat all the donuts.”
“This had better be one hell of a story. These are really exceptional donuts.” Okay, so I was going to have to tell him the whole fucking story, from beginning to end. Or at least until Obasan taught me her word for the asparagus. I was probably five at the time, I’d guess.
“Come out of the bathroom, and I’ll tell you.” I needed some other incentive to get his well-proportioned ass out of the bathroom, though. I scanned the room. “Besides, your coffee’s getting cold.”
“Coffee’s your thing, Nick, not mine. Besides, I’m still naked, as you so helpfully pointed out earlier.” And his being naked was a problem how? Urgh. Well, if he wasn’t going to come out of the bathroom, he wasn’t going to get my story.
“Fine. Stay locked in the goddamned bathroom all morning.” I kicked the door one last time before descending on the table, my own rapidly-cooling coffee, and my pack of cigarettes. I ground my teeth. I stay up all night agonizing over him, buy him donuts, and tell him things about myself I’ve never told anyone, and he locks himself in the bathroom! With the donuts I couldn’t really afford, anyway! I glared at the door for a couple more minutes, then pulled a match across the flintstrip on the matchpack and sucked in a lungful of smoke. I blew it out across the table, and watched as the acrid grey smoke curled through the air. It didn’t swirl like smoke normally does in an enclosed room, and then I saw that the window was still open. I walked over and closed it, my frustration dissipating as I remembered how Vash looked half-hanging out of the window before he whirled around on me, his eyes wide and nearly black. He’d looked…panicked. I looked down at the alley below our window. It was two tall stories down, not something I would attempt to jump unless pressed. And besides that, there wasn’t anything at the bottom to cushion the impact. Vash was overreacting again, as usual. It was kind of…sweet in a way, I guess, that he was so worried that I’d just up and left. But why he was so worried about me leaving was beyond me. It’s not like I’d go anywhere, even in a hurry, without the Punisher.
I glanced over toward the bathroom door again, still minorly irritated with Vash, when there was a sparkle of surprise in the back of my mind. It wasn’t mine, it was coming through the link from Vash.
+Something…wrong?+ I ‘asked.’
* Umm, well, its…its just…Christ, do you have to smoke at 5:30 in the morning? * Lemme get this straight. Vash was asking me if I had to smoke. What the hell kind of a question is that to ask? And why did it matter? I caught a trail of silver coming through the link on the heels of Vash’s surprise. I quirked an eyebrow. Come to think of it, Vash’s surprise came through right about the time I lit up. And now this. I put the pieces together rather quickly, and came to an interesting conclusion. Very interesting.
“Yeeessss, why?”
“Ummm, nothing. Nothing at all. I am going to take a shower.” So, the cigarettes were good for something after all. I was definitely going to have to keep that in mind. And since it was fairly obvious that Vash was flustered about the whole scenario, a little more teasing wouldn’t hurt.
“That wouldn’t happen to be a cold shower, now, would it?” I was grinning openly at the bathroom door, thoroughly enjoying the turning of the tables. He was still locked in the bathroom though, with the donuts. Dammit.
“No, not at all.” I snorted. Yeah, right, Needle-nog—er…what the hell was I going to call him now? Dammit, now I couldn’t even malign him in my own head. I was half-tempted to just flood the link with my frustration when I heard the water start. Well, even if I couldn’t figure out what to call the bastard, I certainly could pick my way into the bathroom for the donuts. Or what was left of them. I really hoped he’d left me at least one.
“Well, don’t use all the hot water, then,” I retorted before quietly jiggling the bathroom doorknob. Strangest thing, the door came right open. Either he’d unlocked the door, or the lock didn’t work. Heh. God works in mysterious ways. I poked my head around the corner to make sure Vash was actually in the shower instead of waiting to ambush me for whatever reason, then snatched the bag of donuts off the counter by the sink and tore open the bag. What I saw did not make me happy. There, at the bottom of the bag, was one miserable little donut. I suppose I got what I asked for, but I was hoping for the at least part, not the one. I whirled on the shower, and with a battle cry of ‘You bastard!’ tore the curtain aside.
“You only left me one goddamned donut! There were a dozen, and - ” I stopped. Vash was leaning against the wall of the shower, his eyes half-closed, a raging hard-on between his legs. I smirked. “Not a cold shower, huh?”
“No, it’s not,” Vash replied, his voice a little husky. And he was right. It actually wasn’t a cold shower. Visions of lechery danced in my head as I let my eyes rake over Vash’s body, water pouring over his chest and thighs. I was a little thrown by his lack of one arm, but wasn’t overly concerned. After all, he still had a perfectly good one, right? All the better to jack off with. With a boner like that, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t going to be able to just ignore it.
“I should just let you suffer for leaving me one fuckin’ donut.” I said, leaning one palm against the side of the shower. I didn’t really mean it, but… He’d only left me one donut. I wanted to see him beg. Vash’s eyes flew open, and he grabbed my collar. He pulled me down into the shower, the water soaking my suit jacket and shirt.
“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Vash…growled? Vash could growl? Well, I’ll be damned. The rest of whatever I was going to think about Vash’s growling abilities got lost as he pulled me into a bruising kiss, tongue darting in and out of my mouth. I wanted to pull back. At least take off my clothes; I’d just washed these. I really shouldn’t be kissing him now. +I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t…+ the chant became a mantra, but the more I told myself I shouldn’t, the more I wanted to kiss him.
+Oh, what the hell.+ Call me easy, but damn, it was all I could do to keep from begging myself. I nibbled my way along his jaw and down his neck. Vash started sliding down the shower wall, and I caught him, sliding my hands under that perfect ass as I did so and pulling him up against me. Vash gasped, a lovely little hiss of air, and I grinned wickedly at him.
“Brace yourself.” I said as I dropped to my knees. Heh, I guess I was going to church again today.
* I, uh, thought you had a sore throat? Not that I’m complaining, mind. * Well, I sort of did, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t ignore. And if he really wanted me to do this…
+Then don’t complain.+ I sent to him as I slid my tongue all the way up his cock, watching his face morph into a funny little pout that almost looked like pain. He shook his head.
*No, no, definitely not complaining.*
+Good.+ I slid my lips around him, then took him as far down as I could go without injuring myself. I grinned to myself as I heard Vash’s head impact with the shower wall and small whimpers escape his lips. The whimpers turned into a whine, much the same as last night.
+Keep that up and I just might have to put a collar on you. Spot.+ Maybe if I kept bringing it up, he’d take me up on it someday. Well, I can always dream, can’t I?
“Oh Christ!” he groaned, and that sweet cum filled my mouth again. +Tasty…+ I leaned back on my haunches, grinning like the cat that had gotten into the cream as my eyes tore over his body…
I couldn’t breathe. I actually felt all the blood drain from my face as I stared in astonishment at…Vash’s wings. I sucked in a ragged breath, and the first words to leave my lips were, “Oh. My. God.”
Vash craned his neck around to see what I was staring at, and he must have lost his balance, because he fell to his knees right in front of me, water dripping from white feathers framing his shoulders. I instinctively pulled myself away, but it was a bit difficult to get too far. The lip of the shower caught my heels.
“Oh. My. God,” he repeated as he lifted one up and let it splat against him. I reached out to them, my hand shaking violently, but pulled back before I could actually touch them. My shoulders twitched, and I felt something like the phantoms from last night, but they didn’t burn this time. I was shaking all over, my eyes refusing to tear away from the sodden wings, my mind refusing to focus elsewhere but the memory.
The stainless steel floor of The Master’s chamber was brightly polished. It reflected the pulsing blue light in swirls that made me slightly dizzy. Despite this, I didn’t look up. I’d been specifically instructed not to look up.
Doc had told me at that morning’s training session that I’d be taken to see The Master that evening after dinner. Legato had shot me condescending looks for the rest of the day, which didn’t make me feel any more confident about my ‘meeting.’
And I still wasn’t exactly sure why I was standing there, in that oddly blue room, staring at the shifting reflections on the floor.
The doors slid shut behind me, and I counted out the ten steps I’d been told would take me to the center of the room. I tried to decide if my footsteps were timed to the pulsing light or if it was the other way around. I had counted to ten before I could completely make up my mind. I stood at my designated spot for what seemed like an eternity, contemplating the floor, which seemed so far away, my shoes, which still looked huge, and the pattern the light made, which made me slightly nauseous.
/Kneel./ The voice didn’t hurt in my mind like it did with Legato. This voice carried the promise of pain, though. I could feel eyes on me as I knelt, rather clumsily. I hadn’t really gotten used to my height, yet.
/Excellent. I see the doctor hasn’t been exaggerating about you./ As if The Master’s gaze hadn’t been oppressive enough, he began probing my mind. Testing me. There were flickers of amusement and curiosity as he scanned through my mind, and then my body, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. He wasn’t trying to control me, he was just…looking at me, appraising me. Like a potential buyer at a tomas auction.
He paused, and a flicker of particular interest lit between my shoulder blades. The blue light flared. I felt the muscles in my back all contract at once, and I screamed. My head flew up and back, and I caught a glimpse of him, The Master. He was hanging upside down and naked in some kind of glass enclosure.
My spine contorted as the muscles pulled into a knot in the middle of my back. Even when Legato would take control of me, when he could, the pain had never been this great. My head rested on the floor between my toes. I don’t know how long I was bent like that, but after a while, the pain seemed to slip away. I knew it hurt, and I knew my body wasn’t supposed to be able to do this, but the pain wasn’t there anymore.
Just as suddenly as I’d flipped backward, I flipped forward again, my forehead touching the blue steel floor. I heard every vertebra crack as I whipped forward, and the skin between my shoulder blades started to stretch and pull away. Something that felt like white hot metal rods shifted, grinding against bone. I screamed again, but this time it was out of sheer terror. Whatever was moving underneath my skin could not be natural.
As the skin continued to pull, I started to think that whatever Doc had done to me was simply making me a vessel for some other thing, that it was going to burst out of my back and I was going to die and be tossed in a mass grave somewhere to rot and be picked over by grave beetles.
I heard rather than felt the skin on my back tear apart. In a splatter of blood, they emerged, grey and misshapen. My wings gave a half-hearted flap and ragged, bloody feathers hit the floor. I stared at them for a moment; it was all so unreal, like I was some kind of angel. A fallen angel.
The wings flapped again, tearing at the wound in my back, and a fresh torrent of blood ran down my back and pooled around my knees.
/Get it out of my sight./
+It?+
“Of course, Master.” Doc’s voice came from somewhere behind me.
/And remove those…things./
“Certainly.”
I stared at Vash, his perfect white wings slowly flapping against his back. “Mine were grey,” I whispered, almost to myself.
“Nick?” Vash stared at me, a look of surprise and awe in his eyes, “Does that mean…”
“That I’m something like you? I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.” But how else would I have had wings? The damn things don’t exactly grow on trees… I almost laughed. Maybe they did grow on trees. After all, Vash was a plant, right? And I guess…that meant that whatever Doc had done to me made me one, too. But all I had left of my wings… “That explains the tattoo, huh?”
There are some revelations in a person’s life that are so shocking they just wash right over you, and you accept them without thinking too much about it. Especially when the revelation makes sense out of things that otherwise couldn’t be explained. There were a lot of strange things that happened to me that I always chalked up to my ‘modification.’ Well, now I knew what Doc had done. I didn’t know how, and frankly I didn’t really want to know how. I knew the pain of it, and I wasn’t about to put somebody else through that just out of curiosity. The knowledge would best be left to die with the Doctor.
“Oh, Nick…” Vash whispered, then put his arm around me, running his fingers through my wet hair and down my back. I stiffened, not wanting to be pulled into his embrace, but finally relented, my arms circling him. I flinched involuntarily as my fingers brushed through the dripping feathers. I pressed my face against his neck, shaking.
“They were bloody, mangled…broken…” I murmured, reliving the memory again and again as Vash’s hand passed over the scars as he tried to find some way to comfort me. “He’d…he’d said, ‘Get it out of my sight.’” I shook my head against his shoulder, trying to put the thoughts out of my mind. I felt my chest tighten as I told Vash, brokenly, what had happened. My eyes burned, and there was a lump in the back of my throat the size of a tomas egg. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the tears as Vash turned and kissed my temple.
“It hurt like hell,” I went on, my voice catching on that lump. . “And it hurt even worse…when they took them away. Now all that’s left are the scars, the tattoo…and the phantoms.” A single hot tear rolled down my cheek and fell onto Vash’s shoulder. I hated myself for not being able to hold it back.
Vash shifted, his arm pulling away from me, and the water stopped running. I’d completely forgotten it was still on. He pulled me close once more, my cheek resting just above the grate over his heart, his chin resting on the top of my head.
“Phantoms?” he asked.
“I can still feel them, sometimes.” I replied. “Like last night.”
“Last night?” The surprise in his voice almost made me think he’d forgotten everything that happened. “When?” Vash had chosen a fabulous moment to be thick.
“Not too long after dinner.” If he needed it spelled out more than that, he was hopeless.
“Oh. That.” Well, praise the Lord and pass the mashed potatoes.
“Yeah. That.” We were silent for a moment, and Vash’s hand continued to absently run over my back. It made me a bit self-conscious. I opened my eyes, and noticed that I was looking directly at Vash’s thigh. And the huge bruise I’d given him last night when I bit his leg. Oops. Well, as long as he wasn’t going to complain about it… A sudden movement drew my eyes a bit further north. My eyes widened.
“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” I blurted. As I had been admiring the love bite on Vash’s thigh, other parts of Vash’s anatomy were taking an interest in our current position. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t fucking believe it. How long did it take him to reload, anyway? Jeeyazuz.
“Just…ignore it, and it’ll go away.” His voice was thick with embarrassment.
“We should all be so lucky.” I replied. I wished I could ignore a hard-on that easily. Especially one that grew so quick. Holy fuck that boy’s horny.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you…I…argh!” Vash gave up trying to figure out a way to explain something that would be totally understandable for a fifteen-year-old kid. In a round about kind of way, it was flattering. I laughed. Actually, it was more like a watery cough, but I hoped it sounded at least vaguely amused.
“I’ll take it as a compliment.” I leaned back on my heels again, spread my arms, and looked down at my clothes. They were completely soaked. “I need to change clothes.” I stated rather blandly, then gave Vash a very pointed look. I put my hands up, palms out, motioning for Vash to just stay where he was. “Do me a favor and just…stay here.” As enticing as the idea was, I didn’t actually want to get jumped while I was in the middle of putting on my shorts. I stood up, then raised an eyebrow. “And for God’s sake, put your arm back on. It’s a little…disconcerting.” I wasn’t really sure I could ever get completely used to the idea that Vash only had one arm. And the fact that there were odd spikes of metal and loose wires hanging out of his stump didn’t make the ensemble any more reassuring.
“No, getting electrocuted in the shower is ‘disconcerting,’” Vash retorted. I pulled my head back sharply and blinked at him.
“Point taken.”
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