A/N: This chapter’s gonna suck. This is a warning. I’m depressed for various reasons, and I’m trying to calm myself down. Not only did my laptop get fried a while back, but my DESKTOP crashed, as well. This is one of those, "when it rains, it pours," situations.

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Disclaimer: Vash not mine. Knives not mine. Nicholai... MINE... all mine! ::insidious cackle::

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Somewhere in time, there is a circle.

Somewhere in time, this circle will be complete.

Somewhere in time, love is forever.

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Last night, I had a dream. I was in a beautiful place... an Eden. I had an innate feeling that something was out of place, as I looked around at the lush, green grass, the blue sky with only a single sun, and the trees and flowers and birds that were thick around me. I breathed deeply, could smell the heady, strong scent of life everywhere. It burned right into my soul, my very being. Then, I looked more, and I realized that I was the thing that was out of place. That my body, my very existence in the world had corrupted and tainted everything.

Knives came to me, then, almost appearing out of thin air, fluttering into being right before my eyes. He placed his hand on my cheek in a gentle, loving way that I had never known him capable of. He brushed my lips lightly with his thumb before the other hand rose and rested on the back of my neck. And it felt good.

For a moment, we stood there like that, gazing into each others’ eyes for the longest time, seconds stretching out into hours. Then, Knives moved forward, shifting his weight, and kissed me. Lightly, grazing, and sinfully sweet. His lips met mine, I am certain of that, but it felt like nothing more than a light wind had tickled its path along my face. His hand lowered, reached down my back. I arched into the touch.

When a sharp pain overtook my being, I crumpled to the ground, taking my brother with me. The Eden around me began to spin and become hazy. Lights flashed red behind my eyelids. My chest constricted, my stomach churned and my back felt as if my very spine were pulling itself out through my flesh. I fumbled for Knives’ shoulders, my hands passing through his form and sending the colors of his clothing into strange swirled patterns. Finally, I grasped onto something solid, and the pain stopped for a moment. I looked up, expecting to see my brother, and instead, was greeted by a dried, sunken face. The skin was tight and thinly woven over the protruding cheekbones. The creatures nose was crumpled and gone, and where eyes should have been, there were nothing more than two glowing yellow dots in pitch black.

Time stopped, then, and I was outside of my body, watching as the figure above me hovered silently. One hand on my face, the other buried into my back as blood welled up and dripped down around the wound it had caused. A black cloak, tattered and threadbare, swirled around the skeletal form in an unfelt wind. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone and I was left in a nothing. There was no light, but there was also no darkness. No sight, no smell, no taste and no feeling.

I was completely alone. I turned my head to the left and the right. I grasped for my own arms, and, feeling nothing, began to pull at my own flesh, ripping and scraping it away. The muscles underneath became exposed, yet blood refused to drip, because there was no up or down, nowhere to go.

In complete and utter horror at my own dilapidated self, I screamed. I threw back my head and screamed as loudly as I could, yet no sound was made.

Waking up in a cold sweat and hearing the echo from my previously unheard scream in my head, I had to remind myself that I was, in fact, alive and well. I was in a warm bed with Nicholai at my side, his arm still hung loosely around my waist and his face buried into the pillows.

I quickly climbed out of the bed and ran to the bathroom, where I’ve been for quite a while now, in the shower, sitting at the bottom of the tub with the water pattering on my face. It’s not helping to calm me much. I shiver every time I think about it.

The thin curtain around the shower is suddenly ripped aside and I gasp and jump, startled out of my mind as my heart begins to race. I don’t like being scared like that, so I come out fighting. "Nicholai! What the hell are you doing!? Don’t you ever knock?"

He smiles at me, despite my anger, and I cross my arms over my chest angrily and frown at him. My eyes wander lower for a moment, and I take note that he’s still nude. Not that it takes any of my anger or apprehension away, but it’s a welcome distraction.

"You okay, babe? You’ve been in here for a while, now."

"Just thinking." I spit out some water that trickled into my mouth and tear my gaze away from him.

"What about?"

"Had a nightmare."

He steps into the tub and slides down behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and propping his chin up on my shoulder. "Care to talk about it?"

I lean into his embrace, feeling his heart pound strongly against my back as his legs stretch out alongside mine. He places a light kiss on my shoulder as the water cascades down our bodies and my hand finds its way to his at my waist. I feel a little better, having his arms around me. His taught muscles flexing as he moves, slick, bare skin sliding over mine. How is it, that no matter what I’m previously feeling, when he is near, I feel comforted? How does he do that?

In a serious tone, despite the foolishness of the statement, I say, "I think I’ve lost my mind."

I can feel his chest tighten as he lets out one short gasp of a chuckle. "Well, you’re old. Any normal person your age would have lost their minds years ago."

"Yeah, but that’s not it."

"What is?" Another light kiss on my shoulder.

"I had a dream that Knives... well, he kissed me, and then I died."

Another short chuckle. "I always knew that guy would be the death of you."

"Nicholai, it’s not funny. It scared me."

"It was just a dream."

"But it felt real."

He squeezes me a bit tighter around the waist, clenches my hand in his own. "Dreams don’t mean anything, Vash. They’re only subconscious worries and stresses that have been suppressed in our minds, coming out in the form of vivid images that give the feel of reality."

"Then how do you explain two or more people having the same dream at the same time?"

"Coincidence."

I shake my head at him, grinning a bit despite myself. If only everything could be as simple as he lays it out to me. He has the whole world figured out in his mind, including myself and my brother, whom I myself have various troubles in comprehending. I guess that’s why I like him so much. "You’re right. It was just a dream." I nod resolutely at this conclusion and slowly drag myself to my feet, rinsing my hair one last time in the spray of water. Nicholai stands as well, behind me, and I turn around, smile at him, and step out of the tub.

As I wrap a towel around my waist, Nicholai closes the curtain, then peeks his head back out. "You could at least give me a good morning kiss," he admonishes, his eyebrows raised and a little frown puckering his lips. He looks so cute like that.

I smirk and wrap the towel tighter around my waist. "Maybe after you brush your teeth."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"No, Nicky. It works much better if you keep both eyes open."

"Like this?" Nicholai opens his other eye, sights along the barrel, and releases a shot. The sound reverberates off the low sand dunes around us for a moment and then recedes. I stare at the line of bottles set up on a row of concrete blocks a good fifty feel away. Not one of them is broken, and we’ve been out here for quite a while.

"Maybe we should move forward another twenty feel, or so?"

"No, I can do this. I’ll get it, eventually. Your gun’s really heavy, though, and it’s powerful. It makes my arm jerk when I fire it."

"That’s called the ‘kick,’ and yeah, it’s powerful."

Nicholai asked me, after stepping out of the bathroom this morning, if I would take him out and show him how to shoot a gun properly. Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive at first, questioning the possible reasons he would have for wanting to learn to use one. But how could I say no to the prospect of him buying me lunch and a box of donuts afterwards? So, I let him borrow my gun, a fair amount of spare ammunition, and even my old hip holster used back when I wore the red coat. I had almost expected him to be a natural, with the way he carried the look of a typical gunslinger, holster perched precariously on his slim hips. Now, seeing the way he fires, the gun nearly flinging him back into the dusty earth every time he uses it, I’m definitely reconsidering my initial assumptions.

"Let’s move forward a bit," he finally says, after firing off five rounds and only succeeding in chipping the concrete blocks or missing entirely. I gather up the spare magazines for the gun, the two extra bottles, and our canteen of water and follow him across the dry earth.

Looking back on the town which wavers like a mirage in the heat of the day, I know I shouldn’t be thinking about Knives, but I am. I hope he’s okay.

"Is this a good spot?" I nod in response and place the canteen and magazines on a less sandy patch of the ground and sit down next to them, releasing another button at the top of my shirt. Peering up at the suns, I realize that it’s very near the middle of the day. I could have already known that by the telltale sign of hunger that causes my stomach to growl. Nicholai continues his practice, aiming the gun is his slightly wavering hand and sighting along the barrel to the target - an old bottle of tequila that we dug out of a trash bin at the back of our hotel and bar.

He fires and misses, and then drops the gun to his side, letting out an exasperated sigh. His hand rakes through his bangs in frustration. "What am I doing wrong, Vash?"

I pick up the canteen of water and twist open the cap, shrugging my shoulders. "I’ve never taught someone how to shoot, before. I’ve been doing it for so long, it kind of comes naturally to me. I may be missing something in your teachings." I take a drink of the water.

"You’re so reassuring." He switches the gun from his left hand to his right and shakes it out. "Damn, that thing’s heavy."

"Arm getting tired?" I hold the canteen of water out for him and wipe my mouth. He takes it from me, nodding, and then drinks heartily. I watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down while he swallows and empties the canteen, and then stare at him, frowning a bit. "You drank all the water."

"I was thirsty." He tosses the empty container to the ground near me as my shoulders slump.

"Now that we’re out of water, I think it’s about time we go back. Try a few more times, but use your other hand."

"But I’m left-handed."

I shrug. "Try anyway. You never know."

He shrugs too, one eyebrow twitching upwards. "Okay," he says, raising the gun back to sight along it. His right hand is even more shaky than his left, but he quickly fires a shot to finish off the round and, much to my astonishment, causes a bottle to shatter in its place.

I jump to my feet and smile. "Good shot!" He smirks at me, nodding. "See, I knew you could do it. Try again." I toss him one of the magazines, and he drops the empty shells onto the ground before reloading, and then aims and fires. My bottom lip pouts a bit in confusion. "You missed."

"No shit."

"Try both hands again."

He does so, and misses horribly with all of the five shots. "Well, damn. Maybe that one bottle was a fluke."

"Maybe." I trail off, brushing the sand from the back of my pants and grabbing up the water bottle and the last magazine. I decide to simply leave the bottles out there, knowing Nicholai will probably want to come back after we have lunch. "Ready to go back in?"

"Not quite yet. Show me one more time." I sigh to myself and walk to him, taking the gun and handing him the canteen. As I reload it, he takes the liberty of draining whatever remnants of water there may have been inside the bottle, holding it upside down over his mouth.

Smirking, I put up quite a show in my preparations, licking my finger and holding it up in the air to test the non-existent wind, tilting my head from the left to the right, crouching down and lining up the shot. Nicholai snorts behind me. "Really cute, Vash."

I nod, straighten myself out, turn around, and begin to walk, holding the gun up against my forehead. After ten steps, I whip myself around and fire off four shots so quickly that it sounds like one, and watch as the four remaining bottles shatter and fall to the ground in pieces. I smile smugly as Nicholai frowns, and then walk to him and place the gun back in his hip holster, allowing my hand to linger for a moment on his outer thigh. "Don’t worry, Nicky. You’ll get the hang of it."

He nods in acceptance of that fact which may or may not be a true, and I put an arm around his shoulder, steering him back towards the town and looking forward to a nice lunch and an even nicer box of donuts. "We can come out here again after lunch, right?"

"Sure." I take the opportunity, what with no people around or any chance of them coming around, to pull him closer, lowering the arm on his shoulders to his waist. He smiles and rests his head against mine. It’s a bit awkward, walking so closely, and, not to mention, it feels a bit sticky, what with the dry heat that has caused us both to build up a substantial amount of sweat. Yet, I bear all of the little dilemmas, instead focusing on how nice it feels to be in his arms and so close to him. It shouldn’t feel this good just to be around someone. It shouldn’t, but it does. I smile as he gives a loving but rough caress to my arm. I think it’s about time I stop fooling myself about this, believing the time is nearing that I tell him.

"Something wrong, Vash?"

I quickly shake my head, smiling a bit. "Not a thing." I hadn’t even noticed that we’d arrived at the outskirts of the town. Looking back over Nicholai’s shoulder, I realize that we’ve already passed two buildings, and I raise my eyebrows. How the hell did I fail to notice that? I pull away from Nicholai just a bit and give a leisurely stretch as our feet begin to reach the cobblestone roads of the inner city. "Where do you feel like eating, Vash?"

Taking a moment to think this over, I realize that we’ve been eating at the bar since we arrived here, and I have no idea of any restaurants. I frown at this. "Wherever you want to, I guess."

"There’s a nice-looking place over there." He points to one of the buildings up ahead and to the left of us. There are tables set out under an extended sunroof at the front of the structure, and a few people are already dining upon their meals there. I smile just a bit and nod to the proposition.

He grabs my hand and holds it within his own as we walk towards the restaurant as the tune of a lone guitar begins to enter my ears from inside the building. At least they have music. A few of the people eating their lunches raise their heads to look at us. I smile and wave my free hand, knowing that they’re staring at Nicholai’s hand on mine. It doesn’t bother me. At least, that’s what I tell myself as we weave through the tables to the entrance. Nicholai pushes open the door and pulls me inside, away from the curious stares, and I release a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been withholding. Then, when I look up, I hold my breath again. The restaurant is packed, and it feels like everyone’s staring at us, even though there’s only one small child in a corner, perched backwards on his seat, that is actually looking. I try to slowly slide my hand out of his, and he turns his head to frown at me. "Now I know something’s wrong."

I smirk nervously. "People were staring at us outside."

"They were probably just wondering what a good-looking guy like you was doing with someone like me. They’re jealous." He gives me a small smile, and I can’t help but smirk back at him. Once again, life is so simple for him. He retakes my hand as a waitress dressed in a fairly outlandish uniform with an overly puffy and short skirt comes to lead us to a free table along the wall. We release each others’ hands as we sit. For such a small town, the restaurant certainly seems to be doing well. It almost seems out of place.

The waitress hands us our menus and asks if we’d like anything to drink. Nicholai and I both order a simple glass of iced tea. After she’s gone, Nicholai places the menu on the table and holds out his hand for mine. I look around questioningly and then place my hand in his. He looks around for a moment, stretching to see all around us, then turns back to me, smiling. "See? Nobody’s staring."

"Yeah, yeah... but they were. It just makes me nervous."

"Why’s that?"

I take a serious moment to think about this, and then lean toward him inconspicuously, my eyes downcast as I pick at the corner of the menu. "Well, back when I was ‘Vash the Stampede,’ people stared at me a lot, like I was some kind of evil incarnate. It’s nice to finally be forgotten and have a low profile."

Nicholai stares at me plainly a moment, before frowning at me and tilting his head. "You think it’s nice to be forgotten?"

Without hesitation, I say, "Yes."

"Being forgotten doesn’t feel good, Vash. It makes you feel like you never existed, to begin with."

"...I never thought about it that way."

He leans back in his seat, releasing my hand to cross his arms. "Well, try thinking about it this way: You remember Nicholas Wolfwood, don’t you?"

I swallow thickly. "Yes. I remember him very well."

"Does anyone else remember him?"

"...my brother, Knives."

"Anyone else?"

"No." I think I can already guess where this is headed.

"Then, if you and your brother ever forget him, it will be as if he never existed. No one will remember him, and he’ll be erased from peoples’ memories, so what difference will it ever make to anyone? If your family is ever taken away, and your family is all you ever had, then you cease to exist in your own time, because the only people who knew you and cared for you are gone. Do you see what I’m saying?"

"Yes. Being forgotten is not a good thing." I frown and lower my head, thinking that over. He’s right. Nicholas is practically non-existent to others, now. I’m one of the only people in the world who actually knew him.

"Don’t get depressed over it." He smiles warmly at me, but I can see through his mask. I know that he was talking about himself when he mentioned his family being taken away. I know that he’s hurting, just remembering it. "People haven’t forgotten you, especially not as easily as you think."

"Oh?"

"Yeah... watch this." Nicholai stands up from his chair, picking up a glass and a fork. He taps the two together, getting many of the restaurant’s patrons’ attentions. "Can I have your attention, please?" he asks over the crowd. I nervously glance around, realizing that the whole room has gone quiet and that they’re all staring at the two of us, and my eyes widen.

My cheeks heat up as I grab at Nicholai’s shirt, trying to pull him back into his seat. "Please sit down, Nicholai," I practically hiss at him.

"Does everyone here remember the legend of Vash the Stampede?"

For a moment, the place remains utterly still and completely quiet. A glass shatters on the floor somewhere around us, which causes the whole place to erupt in a furious chatter. A woman quickly calls for her bill, so that she can leave. One family tells their children to ignore Nicholai and finish eating. I hear a few people begin to talk about the giant man in the coat the color of blood and a heart as cold as ice, and my face falls onto the table. I feel a bit better, though, when Nicholai corrects them all. "Does anyone here actually know Vash the Stampede?"

The room goes quiet again and Nicholai sits down. I notice a smug smile on his face as I raise my head from the table. "How could you do something like that?"

"I just wanted to prove that you’ll never be forgotten, even after your death."

I nearly roll my eyes at that, looking away from him and wiping over my face with my hand in exasperation. I turn back to glare at him. "Nicholai, that was embarrassing!"

He lifts an eyebrow and shrugs, before leaning forward and saying in a whisper, "Imagine what they would have done, if I had told them all that you were Vash the Stampede."

"Probably ran away screaming." I smile and shake my head as the waitress returns to take our orders.

"Exactly."

A/N: Anyone wondering what a "feel," is? You know, "fifty feel away," and such? Check the first episode of Trigun.