Untitled Chapel Fic

by YoujiK33

        He's beaten me. I can't believe he's beaten me. And yet here I am, sitting in the dirt, gaping at him in disbelief as he eats the apple with a smug grin plastered across his face.

        He's not going to shoot me. I can't begin to understand why. As I watch him walk away, the suns illuminating a vivid halo in his black hair, I realize at this point there are few things I really do understand. There's a bullethole in my shoulder and I focus on the pain, trying to clear my head, trying to simplify my emotions.

        He didn't shoot me. And, even while I want to condemn his foolishness, I find myself proud of him, proud of this young man who was, at one time, almost a son to me. Not that I ever told him that. But I *am* proud of him, of his strength of will, if not for his logic. I know that I can't kill him now.

        And then I feel it - my hand tightening of its own volition. I understand what is happening immediately, and he continues to walk off, oblivious. I try to call out, to warn him, but my mouth refuses to form the words. I watch in horror as my gun rises; I fight to restrain myself as my finger pulls the trigger but it's all hopeless. He turns too late and I finally manage to choke out "NO!" as the bullets pound into him.

        He slides to his knees slowly, storm-grey eyes wide, one hand on the Cross Punisher and the other clutched across his stomach. It's his turn to gape in surprise as I regain control of myself, dropping my weapons and hurrying to him.

        "I didn't-" I stammer foolishly. "It wasn't me, Legato-"

        "Ah." He blinks, smiling softly. "I understand."

        I can't believe he could forgive me so easily. He's changed so much. He is no longer the bitter, angry little boy I took under my wing, no longer even the man who left three years ago to bring Vash the Stampede to his brother.

        Blood is seeping onto his jacket. It's hard to see, dark on black, but there's a lot of it. Too much. I can't help him. And even as I realize this I realize too that I almost wish I could have gotten to know this new man, that I could have seen what changes Vash had made to his ideals.

        He's trying to get to his feet, and I help him. Just a hand closed around his arm… when he's standing I find myself embracing him loosely, around the shoulders, trying not to hurt him. "I'm sorry, Nicholas," I murmur. "I'm sorry."

        He's never seen me like this, so weak. It brings a soft smile to his face, one that breaks what little heart I have left. There's so much I want to tell him, but I don't know how. I find myself speaking without even realizing what I'm saying.

        "I won't hurt him, Nicholas. I promise you that. I can't guarantee his safety, but - I won't hurt him."

        "Thank you." He claps my shoulder once, lifting the Punisher.

        "I know why you couldn't kill him. You care for him too much." He avoids my gaze this time, and I find myself turning my back on him. He's too painful to watch. "I understand."

        He makes no reply, but I hear his footsteps crunching in the hard-packed dirt road. When I turn around he's already rounding the corner, his stride surprisingly steady for a dying man.

        I gather my own weapon, wrapping it carefully and shouldering it. I know what I have to do now. I can't stand to continue living without repaying him.

        As I head out of town I realize that there are tears in my eyes, burning behind red lenses.