Planet Gunsmoke

Harry arched an eyebrow up towards the man. He chuckled quietly as he shook his head.

"Normally I would... but this is more of an honor payment than anything. A woman like that seems too sweet to try the usual stint on."

He laughed quietly as he lowered the sunglasses. Despite the almost manic nature from the gunfight before, his eyes were calm and friendly now. He was not a man that favored violence per se. He knew when it had to be used, but in normal circumstances, he acted more like any other person... well, as normal as someone in his position would be. Regardless of how friendly he may have appeared, his full intent was not to reveal his currently calm demeanor, but rather to inspect the individual that walked by him. He could tell that he was a man that carried a heavy weight on him, and carried it well... except for the fact that he seemed like the person who was unsure of what it was. It was a strange facet that he had about him, and one that he couldn't quite put his finger on. One thing was for certain though, he was heading in the direction that he'd be going towards after his business.

"Heading towards December? Not sure if you're interested, but I have some business up there myself. Looking for someone of interest. Figure we could tag along for the ride up."

Harry grinned as he whipped out some of the bills. While not one to normally ask for company, his travel lately was almost maddening. The only souls he came in to contact with were degenerates, violent madmen, or someone who'd be his "friend" for a price." He wasn't sure what it was about the man, but something said he was the kind of person he could easily get along with... although based one experience, there were two things that proved that: the bar and a shooting range.

"Since I couldn't exactly afford to pay you for your share of the work, Thomases and booze would be on me."

After a moment, he suddenly scoffed, his thought processes becoming a bit more rational. Before any official deal was made, he figure it would be best to get a better understanding of who he would be dealing with. He gave a slight wave with his hand.

"Didn't even introduce myself. Name's Harry Jameson. You are?"

Milly got up and tried her best not to wake Meryl, she slipped out the door and down the stairs. She decided that today she didn't want to really talk to anyone in the house and especially not about Knives. "I'll just go to the orphanage and spend time with the kids then I'll feel better", she said to herself. Milly was feeling the sting of hatred, for Knives and she didn't want to, "It's not good for me or the baby". After she finished breakfast she grabbed a jacket and went out the door.

"Good morning everybody", cheered Milly when she came in the door of the kitchen of the orphanage, the children were all seated at long table eating. They all smiled and cheered when Milly came and sat with them. "They'll be going out to play after breakfast today Milly do you mind watching them I have some things I need to finish here", said Sister Mary. Milly smiled, "Sure no problem", said Milly, as soon as the children had finished their food, they went outside to the playground. Milly smiled as she watched the children play, one day her son or daughter was going to be out there playing.

What makes you think I would enjoy seeing you like this? The accusation hung dry like crumpled clothes hangers, barely hanging onto the thin line Knives walked along. Unadulterated anger vibrated in his brothers' throat, threatening to well into unsightly tears. He didn't enjoy seeing anyone suffer; be they human or Plant. Those were the truths that sunk anchors in the pit of his stomach, churning in nauseated succession. Certain truths, Knives decided, were impossible to swallow. Impossible to accept. His brother clearly didn't, or couldn't, end his life—even if he threatened everything he'd grown to love and harbour feelings for. Even then, Vash couldn't bring himself to plant a bullet through his skull. It wouldn't have been very hard. If the tables were turned, would Knives have done the same? Or would he have ended it for simplicity's sake. “Of course.” The words fumble from his lips, so quiet, merely mumbled.

Upon hearing Vash' silent footfalls, Knives finally glanced over his slumped shoulders. Nobody deserves to die. Hadn't he been, throughout all of this damned struggle, the antagonist? From the limited literature he'd managed to salvage in ruined buildings, Knives had learnt that humans believed there always had been a villain in their petty stories; an antagonist opposing his protagonist. A few of those spined books had been ripped to shreds in his frustration, because all of those absurd beliefs carried on in those damnable things, as well. The hero always rose up and conquered the villain in purity and compassion, leaving him breathing dust without a sword in the swine's heart. And if he wasted his chance, would Vash finally kill him? He'd done it before. He'd forced that oath out of him like a squashed orange. However, even so, that goodness was still there. A blooming flower facing the barest of environments. And with his brother's final words, the door closed behind him and Knives was left alone to ponder his words.

Honestly, Knives hadn't slept that well. Nightmares plagued him, licking hot and tawdry and leaving him a sweating mess against the sheets. His aching legs dangled from the edge of the mattress, thick sheets bunched at the end of the bed. Knives planted his feet firmly against the wooden flooring, shuddering lightly at how cool it seemed. Several breaths hitched in his throat as the sentient Plant bunched his shoulders and slowly eases himself away from the headboard, steadying himself on a nearby chair. Had it been there the entire time? Surely, none of the women would have visited him. He scoffed sourly, prodding the untouched foot sitting in his tray. So, it must've been his brother who'd constantly filtered through his room; bringing things and taking them away. Praying for him to wake up? And for what. The answers eluded him.

“Useless body!” The words erupted from his lips, trembling and shaking from his now-deflated lungs. All in one movement, Knives abruptly stood and knocked the chair over, only to stumble forward and catch hold of the windowsill. He was looking for meaning in death—but found nothing, awoke with nothing. His fingers opened, then closed. There were no butterflies or spiders in his palms. War constantly welcomed death into it's arms, opened wounds that festered into hate. Wasn't that what he and Vash had together? He had important people. Important humans. He had nothing. He planted his palms against the window, pushed lightly and dragged it open. A soft breeze billowed through his hair, causing him to lean forward.

How peculiar.

Nicholas watched the sun vanish beyond the horizon. They were only closer to the city that held something of his past... he hoped. It lay in the visible distance, taunting him with ghosts he couldn't remember and a past he knew nothing of. The questions were many and the same. Harry Jameson proved a welcome distraction to the thoughts crowding his mind with what if's.

What if what had almost killed him months ago was waiting for him in December? What if there was nothing and he was once again left with a void in his chest? The visions of red and the sweet smile of people he knew had long since vanished and Nicholas was content with the silence in his heart. Still, the pressure weighed down on him and so he just kept his hands tucked into his pocket and his eyes watching the horizon melting away before them.

"So," Nicholas spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "you say this man has quite the bounty on him?" He adjusted his sunglasses and then decided he didn't need them in the darkness anymore. They tucked nicely into the inside pocket of his patched up suit jacket. "Have a name or anything?"

Damn, a car would have been nice right about now.

The Thomases moved at slow pace. Harry stared at the town, curious of whether or not he could bring closure to what he had been searching for. He thought back to image that he would always run across in the towns he traveled through... that smiling face plastered under the spiked hair and wrapped in a red coat that some people, for some reason, affiliated with complete death and destruction. It was strange though... considering him a tycoon was accurate, because destruction truly did follow in his wake. However, this was not human nature from what he observed... it was just the nature of his presence. He had heard tales of what came from his appearances in the various towns: destruction, debt, and misery. But for the most part, he was more of a facilitator than a cause, as most of the damage was caused by those hoping to strike it rich and retire earlier. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to see who this man truly was; he wanted to know how true the legends of his skill were.

His thoughts were soon interrupted. He turned his head towards Nicholas as he snapped back into reality. He chuckled quietly as he shook his head. He looked over at the town in the distance. It appeared quiet and peaceful. It was ironic... the places of peace seemed to scare most people off in finding him. A sly grin of anticipation slowly grew on his face.

"Not going to lie, even people living under a rock know who I'm talking about, based on the bounty alone. The guy's named Vash... a slippery little trickster, that's for sure."

He thought back to that night in his home town when a group of raiders blew through. The embers flying from the rooftops illuminated the night sky like a setting sun. He didn't remember much... except for the smoke and flames that spread throughout, choking everyone who tried to escape, as well as the screams and laughter amidst the carnage... and the blonde man in a red coat. But he wasn't with them...

A trickster indeed...

"Vash, huh?" Nicholas pondered the name, let it roll around his tongue as he said it. Vash.

"What a stupid name." He chuckled and spit the dead cigarette from his lips. "Nope. I can't recall the name." Shrugging, he turned his gray eyes forward again. Nicholas didn't pay much mind to the mannerisms of his fellow traveler. It was obvious they were both searching for something quite similar: an abstract thought that could or could not be real. A person, an idea, a dream... Whatever it was, they could silently understand each other without having to even look.

The town was pretty quiet when they came upon it and luckily for them an old man, standing outside his home on the outskirts, directed them right to the hotel. It was well kept and the old woman standing behind the counter was nice enough. She reminded Nicholas of one of the sisters that had helped to take care of him after he... Well, that wasn't something he chose to dwell on most of the time. Anyway, Nicholas felt quite alright talking to her.

After asking for two rooms for both of them, Nicholas turned to Harry and held out his large, calloused hand. "Thanks for the ride..." He turned to make his way up the steps. "And the company."

His room was small, a table, two chairs, a bed, and a vanity with a pitcher of water and a bowl. It was enough, really. Just enough for him to stay, figure out what he needed to figure out, and then leave. Though his share of the bounty earlier hadn't been properly handed out, Nicholas knew he had enough to remain for a few days before needing to find some more money. Harry would be a good go-to man for that sort of thing.

Stripping off his jacket and shirt, Nicholas plopped down onto his bed and rested with his hands underneath his black hair. It was strange. He'd walked into December, thinking he would feel something almost instantly, only to find that nothing came to. Nothing was familiar; nothing was recognizable to him. It was like walking into any other kind of city. What had he been so afraid of? Why had he worried so much about what he would find here, when all that had happened was a cool breeze and the moon shining through his rented window? It seemed a walk around town in the morning would be needed. Something, somewhere in this place had to hold a piece of what he was forgetting.

[br][/br]

Wolfwood was up well before the sun, unable to sleep for long periods of time since his initial waking from his injuries. On most days, he would get up, wash up, get dressed and stroll around. Instead, in this particular section of the planet, Nicholas decided to wait for other townspeople to rise. He wanted to see it in full bloom, with the town moving like the many veins in the body. Pumping with life and breathing in oxygen. Seeing it that way might trigger something. The priest was angry for a moment, unsure of why he had worked so hard to get here, only to find nothing he knew.

It wasn't long before what he wanted came to pass. Markets opened up and shops began to clean the front stoops of their doors. Families were rousing and children were heading out into the streets to kick about leather balls and chase each other through the alleys. Wolfwood stood up, ready for the day long ago, and made his way into the crowds. Something about the children made his lips curl up in a smile and if he hadn't been wearing his sunglasses, one might have noticed a little sparkle of happiness.

He remembered wanting to help children like him. He remembered making a place for them, but he couldn't remember how or when. December was his answer. An orphanage here was his way out. But how? What was there? The group of children lead him to a playground where one of the balls came flying at his face. Grabbing it swiftly, Nicholas chuckled and kicked it back into the game. A few parents and adults were standing on the outskirts of the park, watching and talking and smiling.

For the first time in a long time, Nicholas felt almost whole.

Harry was in his room, silent, with his casually optimistic smile gone. A small light was on at the table he sat it, his coat slung over the backrest of the chair he sat on. With a bristle in his hand, he meticulously scrubbed away at the gun in his hand. However, this gun was the not the .50 Smith and Wesson handcannon that made him so famous. That was in the holster hung around the banister of his bed. What rested in his hand was (as identified by the faded but shining label on the barrel) a .357 Colt Magnum. The gun, despite being well kept, was clearly aged. There was wear on the grip, which was smooth, loosing the jagged rough texture that one would normally depend on for a better hold. While the steel was well polished, that sheen that one would normally impress the eye was gone. Instead, it carried a dark glow to it that one's naked eye would not quite be able to discern.

As he cleared out the chambers, he found him self staring at it with remembrance, but not fondness. He set the gun on the table, giving it a disconcerting frown that stared back at him, one that was vaguely familiar to him and one other. A scowl gradually grew on his face as he turned off the light. He couldn't sleep... all because of the memories he had affiliated with that gun. Those sleeping dogs wouldn't lie for as long as he lived. He groaned quietly as he rubbed his eyes, tiredness taking over. He simply wanted to rest and be at peace for a moment. However, a beam of light shot through the crevice between his fingers. Soon, the light grew bigger and brighter. He moved his hand to see a growing glow emitting from the pistol. He turned his head to look towards the window. The sun was rising. His weary eyes widened in some shock. He groaned loudly as his head sank in frustration. He had clearly lost track of time. He got to his feet and walked over to the handcannon, cradled in the holster. He grabbed the sling and strapped it on before grabbing his coat. He quickly hurried outside of his room and head down the stairs, the depressing thoughts seeping from his mind, being replaced by a sense of curiosity.

"Might as well tour the town."

As he pressed through the doors, the light his face... and a sudden sense of renewal flushed through him. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to take a breath and refocus his thoughts. A smile grew on his face as ideas came to mind. As he reached into his pocket and pulled out his sunglasses, the smile turned into a grin.

"I'm sure there are some lovely ladies somewhere."

Two things were always for certain. He was a man that was plagued by demons at night... and by day, those thoughts were always chased away in a way he chased skirts. It wasn't normal by no means... but it kept him content at some point, and that was all he could want.

[vash]

Vash walked outta the bath room an wandered the house thinking about things. Things about Milly and Meryl And how his behaveuer in the past had effected them. he had been obsessing over knives getting better he had realized that he had been completely neglecting there feeling's. " maybe knives isn't the only one who's in need of healing.''

" oh what am i going to do. everything is so messed up. how can things go back to the way they where after so much bad things had happened.'' he thought back to when Meryl had that upset and embraced him and told him '' that it hurts her to see him so depressed.'' Why did she say that. What can he do to start to feel like he did before being a care free donuts hog again. when he wasn't care free. He cared for the safety for everyone in the house now that Knives was awake and nothing he said seemed to change his mind.

his train of thought was instantly derailed wen he heard the ruckus in knives room he ran in quickly opening the door to find knives outta bed and leaning agenst the window looking out ward. '' Uh...Knives.'' Vash slowly approached him '' Knives.... I know you want to be out and about but. well your probably regenerating by now. look knives I've been wondering. why don't you give the human's a chance. There not as bad as you think. if you just give them a chance I'm sure you would fin something you like about them. I mean take meryl she's a great cook and everything

Johanna I'm going now thank you for your assistance last night I probably wouldn't have finished. She smiled and decided she might as well get and head towards Milly's house. "You take care dear" said Johanna's grandfather, she waved and made her way out of the house.

When she got up to house she noticed Knives leaning out the window of his bedroom. She was quite curious of this and surprised to see him up so soon. She knocked on the door.

Meryl had came down stairs and started making some coffee and put out the box of donuts that she had bought Vash the day before when she heard a knock on the front door.

She was surprised to see Johanna, "Back so soon" she said Johanna laughed "Yeah you just can't get rid of me can you". She stepped inside and looked around

"Where's Milly" she asked. Meryl took a sip of coffee "I think she's already at the orphanage cause she wasn't here when I got up this morning" she said as she offered a seat to Johanna.

Johanna sat down and grabbed donut, "I guess she needed some time to herself; frankly I don't blame her" said Johanna. "Hows Knives and Vash been" she asked. Meryl shook her head "Well the world hasn't blown up so I guess it's alright. Last time I checked Vash was up" said Meryl.

Johanna nodded "Yes and I saw Knives in the window while I was walking up" Johanna stuck the last piece in her mouth. "I'm gonna go check on them" said Johanna, she made her way up the stairs and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Hello it's me may I come in" Johanna asked through the door.

For a moment, Nicholas was just a person. He wasn't a troubled man with a haunting past he could only half remember. The priest was just someone who just happened to join in a small, rogue soccer game. He didn't have anywhere pressing to be, he had no appointments to keep. Nicholas Wolfwood was having fun. He was enjoying the rush of adrenaline through his veins and the feeling of his lips curling up into a wide grin across his teeth. The ball hit the inside of his boot and he passed it along, flailing around as crazy as a child with no limitations. He laughed at their immature jokes and enjoyed it when they jumped on his back in hopes of tackling him to the ground.

When he was bombarded by more than one child, he let his knees buckle to the ground, all smiles and laughter. If Nicholas had been looking at it from the outside, he probably would have puked. But it was a nice feeling on the inside and he wouldn't let his learned cynicism tear it down.

"Hey!" One voice hollered from the metal jungle gym a few feet away. "HEY! IT'S MISTER WOLFWOOD! MISTER WOLFWOOD!" Nicholas lifted his head through the mass of tangled arms and legs around his head. The other children he'd started playing with all stopped as well. More than half of the children aboard the jungle gym and swings stopped what they were doing and stared at the dog pile of soccer players. Something in Nicholas stirred, but he couldn't force it out. More children came rushing toward him and jumped on top. Kisses and hugs swarmed him. This was familiar, but not enough to rock apart the memories he couldn't remember.

"Mister Wolfwood! I missed you!" One little boy hollered right into his ear. Nicholas almost shoved him away until he caught the smile on his face and the sparkle shining in his round brown eyes. He was just a kid. Just a kid... Just a...

A gun shot rang through his memories and he was filled with an emotion he wasn't ready for. Tiny little arms wrapped around his neck and soft black hair brushed his cheek.

"Mista Wolfwood," a tiny little voice whispered. "We are so glad you're back." The little girl had to be no older than five. He felt something rip through him and suddenly his arms were wrapped around the mass of children he couldn't remember but knew he should.

Milly had taken a group of children to town with her to pick up some supplies for the orphanage. "Can we stop at the playground for a little while big sister please" said the group of kids. Milly smiled, "I don't see anything wrong with that; I'm feeling a little tired so it will be nice to sit for a little bit" they made their way to the playground and the children immediately bombarded the area. There were other parents and children around, the twins stayed close to Milly digging in the sand not to far away from her. "Boys don't get too dirty" said Milly and the little boys nodded and went back to their digging. And elderly lady came and sat next to Milly, "Look at you dear how far along are you" Milly beamed a big smile. "Oh I'm about six months" she said to the king woman. "Well enjoy it while you can before you know it your be waking for four am feedings" the old woman chuckled. Milly smiled "Oh I don't mind", she said; "I bet your husband is ecstatic'"said the old woman not knowing what she said. Milly voice saddened a little, "Yes, I'm sure he is" she didn't want to let the woman know that she wasn't married and that the baby's father was dead.

The twins watched as some of the kids tackled a really tall guy, they stood up to see someone very familiar underneath the pile of children. "Big brother!!" they called out and went running. Milly heard the twins call out and watched as they ran to a man being tackled by the orphans "Oh no excuse me mam I need to get my children". Milly ran and started pulling children off the man "I'm so sorry sir I don't know what got into them are..." as she pulled the last child off and the man is uncovered. Milly feels her legs go weak and she drops to her knees, "N...N...N...Ni...cholas" she says at barely a whisper. Then tears begin to stream down her face, "Big sister don't cry big brother's home" said one of the children.

Fresh air. Sweet fresh air from the pile of dust, dirt, children, tears (he wasn't quite sure why the tears), and laughter was granted to him as someone began expertly removing the children from atop the Priest. "Big Brother"'s and "Mister Wolfwood"'s were flying from many, tiny mouths. He couldn't help his own laughter. Mostly at how absurd the situation was, but also because he could feel their joy, even though he was more confused than happy.

The apology did not escape his ears and he waved his right hand, readjusting the sunglasses on his nose. Nicholas had planned on speaking in return to her when he heard his name. She'd stuttered through it, and this was followed by sobbing. All the children turned their attention to "Big Sister". Nicholas felt like an ass and rubbed the back of his head, wondering what in the hell was going on.

"Look, lady, I didn't... I mean, what did I do?" Had he looked mean? Did he say something harsh without realizing it? Highly doubtful, seeing as Wolfwood always made sure to mean what he'd said and say what he meant. Pushing through the children, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "'Scuse me, kids." With ease, and a little bit of awkwardness on his part, Nicholas sat her down. After this he wasn't really sure what to do. As a matter of fact, for quite some time he stood there, one hand on the back of his head, the other shoved nervously into a pocket.

"I wish I could figure all this out, but I'm not really quite sure what the big deal's all about."

Lady... he just called me lady. Milly looked up at him once again he had no recollection of her in his eyes; I don't understand it's like he has no idea who I am", she thought. "I... thought you were dead my God Nicholas where have you been..." she said in amongst sobs and tears. The twins came up, "Big brother don't you remember big sister" the boys looked at Wolfwood with bright blue eyes and said faces. The twins put their arms around Milly, "It's okay Big sister" they said with genuine love and concern for her. Milly sniffled a bit "Thank you boys", looking at Nicholas again maybe she was mistaken, maybe it wasn't him and she and the children had just made a big mistake. She stood up and studied his face, reaching up and taking the sunglasses from his face; everything she remembered was there "No it is you, it has to be you, I could never mistake someone else for you" she said just barely above a whisper as she looked straight in his eyes. "Please tell me you know who I am... we..."