A/n: tis been a good while since I added anything to the Trigun section, let alone watched the anime, so please excuse me if the characters are out of character and such. I am using the Japanese names such as 'Sempai' and the '-san' instead of 'Mr.' or something. Why? Caz I can.

Disclaimer: If I owned Trigun, it wouldn't have had such a crappy anime that doesn't even follow half the manga series, not that the anime doesn't kick ass or anything, just that Wolfwood would have alot more air time that way XD


I hate alcohol.

Its disgusting.

It rots away brain and liver tissue like the plague. It distorts vision and screws with one's sense of balance. Worst of all, it makes humans even more detestable and intolerable than usual.

We plants are unaffected by the effects of alcohol, not that I drink the stuff much in the first place. We do not get dizzy, or loose our balance, or see double like humans do. Our brains function fine under its influence. The one thing we cannot seem to avoid is the hangover the next morning. In fact, for some reason, we get it worse off than the humans when concerning the after affects.

I'm still looking into it…

Still, I'll repeat, alcohol has no effect on our vision, thinking process, or balance.

Why exactly brother is fumbling around the bar like a drunken human fool then is beyond me.

The short pet spider rolls her eyes after side glancing at brother for the one-hundred-thirty-seventh time this evening. The taller spider has joined brother is some human dance on the floor, both of them stumbling in line with the other spiders laughing like a pair of infants. I glare at the taller spider for a while, thinking the entire time that they make terrible dance partners, until I notice the human beside me giving her spider friend the same disapproving gaze.

"Jealous, Spider?" I ask. She glances at me before letting out a short sigh.

"Meryl," she says plainly. I blink.


"My name is Meryl," she repeats, no longer looking at me. The spider pauses to rest her head on her palms. "Not 'spider'."

"Humph," I snort, "I'll call you what I wish."

"You do that…" Letting out another sigh, the short human returns to watching brother stumble over his own feet. "And, no, I am not jealous," she adds flatly.

I don't answer. I've informed her before I can read her thoughts. She and I both know she's lying.

"Oi! Sempai! Knives-san!"

The tall, out of breath spider staggers over to the bar side, holding her side from laughing too hard, no doubt. That particular spider never seems to stop laughing.

It annoys me.

"Sempai, you should dance with us!" the large human slurs in her high pitched voice. Her 'sempai' politely declines the offer.

"Come on, Knives!" brother whines, pulling on my arm. "Come dance; it's REALLY fun!"

"How about no," I snap evenly. He pouts, looking disappointed for a moment before grabbing the spider beside me by her arms and yanking her off her stool.

"Come dance with me, then, insurance girl!" he chirps, faking the slurring of his consonants. She looks surprised for a moment before tearing her arm out of his grip.

"Drop the drunk act and I might," she demands, emphasizing the 'might' as much as she can. The blush on brother's cheeks falls away and he straightens.

"Aww," he complains, "where's the fun in that?"

"Shut up and go," the pet commands, pushing him towards the floor. I clinch my teeth a little.

"Do not order him around, Spider," I tell her mentally from my seat by the bar. She freezes, like spiders always do when I infiltrate their minds, before looking back over her shoulder to shoot me a dirty look.

"He likes it when I boss him around," she responds, knowing full well she doesn't have to do anything more then think the sentence and I'll hear it, "So, shut up and let your brother have some fun." The spider then turns back around and swings gracefully into brother's arms. I grind my teeth a little more.

"They make a cute couple, don't they, Knives-san?"

A heavy something falls onto my shoulder. The stench of hard liquor floods my senses and I recoil back, stomach turning.

The tall human pet of brother's looks up at me in a blank drunken stare.

Oh God, it was leaning on my shoulder. I absently wipe my shoulder off with my left hand before addressing the spider in a harsh tone.

"Keep off of me," I state clearly. She blinks again, the command obviously not getting around the barricade of alcohol in her system. Proving my theory that the message didn't get across, she lays a hand on mine. I try jerking it away, but this human has an extremely strong grip.

"What do you like to drink?" she asks, leaning in to whisper it to me. Her spider breath is rancid from the liquor, and for a moment I cannot breathe.

"Nothing they have here, spider," I say, pushing her away, "I assure you." She looks disappointed. I try to ignore it.

My gaze falls back onto brother and his spider. Brother wants me to learn their names, the ones of his two pets, but I don't see any reason to.

They'll be gone one of these days.

Brother looks happy with his spider, though. Really, truly happy. My comment about jealously earlier comes back to me and I grind my teeth a little more. Who does that spider, that human think she is, acting like my brother, a plant, is one of her own, filthy species?

This is idiotic.

I will no longer tolerate watching my brother act like a lower race.

"I'm leaving the bar and going for a walk," I tell brother mentally.

"Have a nice walk," he responds absently, still spinning his pet around the floor. I get up and head for the door, "I'll be checking up on you later," he reminds me just as my hand grips the handle.

My hand tightens until my knuckles are chalk white. "I know," I grumble. I wrench the door open and storm out, slamming the chunk of imitation wood shut behind me.

The cool night air that rushes into me as I leave suddenly calms me.

Letting out a sigh, I slump down onto side of the saloon.

I lied, I'm too tired for a walk.

The cool night breeze flowing through this town hits me ever so often like waves on a shore-a vague memory of when Rem reset the REC room to 'ocean' mode. I used to remember it more vividly, but after using my angel arm twice-thrice, if you include brother's gun-in one day, my memory has been a mess. Brother informed me that it's an after affect of the blast, that he experienced the same thing after July and Augusta.

I don't remember firing, but I know I did…

The low buzz of music coming out from inside the bar grows a little louder as some one exits through the door beside me. Telling by the stench of liquor, its either brother or his tall pet.


I sigh.

It's his tall pet.

"What is it, spider?" I grunt, turning my head away from it. There's a moment of silence.

"Do-do you…" she trials off.

"Do I what?" I ask impatiently.

"…think I'm," her voice cracks, "weak?"

I look up at the spider. My eyes widen in shock.

She's crying.

Her! The one that's always happy and laughing and smiling that annoying, sickeningly-sweet smile-crying!

Before I can get a response out, she looks away and starts walking forward slowly. "I t-t-try really hard to be strong-I really do…" she mutters more to herself then to me. "I pretend t-t-t-to be h-ha-happy f-for Sempai and M-Mr. Vash so they don't worry, but…but…" The spider collapses onto her hands an knees and starts to bawl.

Oh crap, oh crap! I look around worriedly. If brother comes out and sees her crying, and me sitting here, he's going to think I did something to her!


"Get up," I demand, rising to my own feet. "Get," I grab her by one of her arms and slowly pull her off her knees, "up and stop crying." She turns to look at me, her eyes glazed over from the alcohol, before burring her face into my chest.

"I'm sorry!" she screams, soaking my shirt with her tears. I resist the urge to force her away, knowing what brother will do if he suspects I've done something to hurt her, but I do not try to comfort her further than letting her use me as a tissue.

God, this is humiliating.

I can hear my sisters snickering from their bulbs.

I think I might leave those two stuck in there…

"I'm so sorry…" she whispers finally, the liquor no doubt making her drowsy. Her white knuckled grip loosens slightly on my shirt as she slowly slips into sleep. "I'm sorry…Nicholas…"

I blink.


That loathsome priest I hired to trail brother?

She thought I was him this entire time?

God, this is humiliating indeed…


"Brother, why on Gunsmoke do humans drink?"

"Hmm?" brother asks sleepily. He turns over in his bed beside mine and props himself up on his elbow. "Why do you want to know?"

"That human, the tall one-" I begin.

"Millie," brother corrects.

"-whatever," I snap back. "Anyways, she was drunk tonight and she started…crying."

"Really?" brother asks. I try not to notice the sympathy in his voice. "She was probably crying over Wolfwood," he states, seemingly coming to a conclusion of sorts.

"What does that spider preacher have to do with anything?" I ask, subconsciously rubbing the now healed bullet wound in my shoulder. Brother shakes his head.

"You couldn't have known this but Wolfwood and Millie…" Brother drops off suddenly. He lets out a sigh and turns around in his bed, his back to me. "They were in love, Knives."

"So?" I ask.

"So," brother snaps a little hurriedly, obviously annoyed by the way I push the subject around so casually, "you got your men to kill Wolfwood, and Millie's sad about it, okay?" He lets out another sigh and twists a little under his sheets. "Millie acts all happy and cheerful like she did before Wolfwood's death, but she's never been the same," brother says slowly, his voice quieter and less even now. "She drinks because…I don't know, to make herself forget," brother waves one of his hands around, trying to emphasize a point he can't form words around, "to feel like she's needed, to fool herself that he's still around, to-to-"

"-make herself believe she isn't weak?" I finish unsteadily for him. Brother looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes slightly wide with shock. I turn away from him before he can respond. "Your pets have infected me," I say plainly. "My chest hurts."

"What part of your chest?" brother asks. I sigh.

"My…uh…I don't know," I snap, getting frustrated. "It just hurts, and it's making me depressed."

"That's called guilt, Knives," brother states plainly. It's my turn to look over my shoulder at him, but his back is to me and he seems to already be asleep or at least unwilling to finish our conversation. I curse under my breath.

"I hate alcohol."