Title: Musings of The Hornfreak. Author: The Faceless Evil E-mail address: TheFacelessEvil@AOL.com Website: www.thefacelessevil.com Rating: Shounen Ai, Langauge, Angst Show/Video Game: Trigun. Couple: Nicholas/Midvalley Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Thanks for creating 'em. Author's Note: This one I wrote at one in the morning, and continued to do so for two straight hours without thinking about it. It's basically a backdrop to Midvalley's entire past, that I created anyway. Enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- There are nights when my past overwhelms me. I jolt up, in my bed, covered in a cold sweat, and breathing as if there was no air in the room. I never awoke this way when somebody else was in my bed, but this time, somebody was. 'You like it don't you, kid? Say you like it! Say it feels good when I give it to you like this!' 'G-God, no, s-stop.. please j-just-- N-NO!!" "Midvalley?! What the Hell happened?!" He was there. The scruffy Priest who smelled like cigarette ash, and gun oil. "N-Nothing." My naked body crumpled among those expensive silk sheets, they felt soiled, obviously from the night's activities only a few hours ago. Strangely enough he didn't question me, he pulled me in, and I rested myself on his tanned chest. I felt a light stroke against my hair, and I felt comforted by it. In silence, I mused over those nightmares. I wondered if they really happened, or was it a punishment for my crimes. I knew that it had to be a mixture of the two. There were many nights that I couldn't remember. 'Hey, Hornfreak, I got some of the good stuff.' A stranger could say, and the rest of the night would be a blur. At age fifteen I was addicted to practically every drug on the market, booze, and promiscuous sex. I should call it prostitution, because it often provided me with those needed drugs, shelter, and often breakfast in the morning. The more violent encounters, my mind seems to block out. I remember only brief moments, all of them enough to send a wave of nausea to my stomach. Just two years before that point, I was a happy, innocent kid, with a sister who could give me the moon and stars. What did I do to deserve all the shit I've been given in this sorry excuse for a life?! There isn't one God damned thing I don't regret. The drugs and booze are killing me slowly, painfully. Sex gives me nothing but momentary gratification, or on the worse side, flashbacks of my younger self being raped and abused. Music is my life, but it always makes me think of Sylvia, my dead little sister. She loved everything I played, no matter how bad it sounded to me. She was my encourager, and my confidant. Without her, I lost all feeling for life, and the music never sounded the same again. What am I living for? Some fuckin' blonde psycho, and his blue bell lapdog? I want to name just one thing in my life that I don't regret. "You all right, Middie?" It wasn't often he called me by my first name, in that shortened manner. He said it like he meant it, as if he was actually concerned for me. Why? Was it the sex? I always prided myself on being an excellent sexual partner, but none of my others seemed to give a damn about my well being. Believe me, if I ever once complained about the shitty life I've had, I'd be kicked out of every lounge in Gunsmoke. Nobody wants a dramatic, whinny, moody saxophone player. They want a man who can work the crowds, to encourage the debauchery and drinking. I bottle and force myself to forget my entire past, and become that flirtatious, jokester of a lounge lizard that the World wants to see. I have to help make them forget their shitty lives too, even though it's killing us inside. We just can't accept reality. "I'm... all right." I make myself believe it every time I say it. Yeah, I'm fantastic, even though I want to shoot myself, and take this whole fuckin' World with me. I want to wipe out all the sleaze, killers, heartbreakers, drug dealers, psychos, and the shitty parents all at once. Especially the last. If it hadn't been for my drunken piece of shit for a Father, I wouldn't even be here now. I'd be playing at classy cafes, and Sylvia would be in the audience. She'd have a husband by then, and lots of kids. Maybe I would've even had a wife and kids of my own. Kids who would look up to me, be proud of me, and wish to be just like me when they grew up. A wife that would look at me, not as a piece of meat, but as an accomplished musician and lover. Instead, because that bastard shattered my World, I'm here. More fucked up than I could've ever imagined as a kid. All the goals, wishes, and plans vaporized the moment he pulled that trigger. The bullet my body couldn't stop, ended two lives. My sister's, and my own. "You don't look all right. Wanna drink, or somethin'?" A part of me wanted to retch at the mention of alcohol, another part of me craved it. To once again lock myself up inside of my fake personality. "Do you ever feel like you're dying, Nick?" With my ear against his torso, I could hear his breathing soften, but his heartbeat was still steady. Full of life, and strength that amazed me. Did my heart beat like that? I sometimes felt as though my heart stopped beating a long time ago. "Almost all of the time." It seemed impossible that a man who is as strong as that, to have a life that was similar to mine. I had heard rumors of his parents being murdered when he was very young, in front of him, no less. He never talked or expressed that he had a difficult life, much like me. Perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to him, silent misery loves company. "Almost?" He was luckier then I. He must have something, or someone holding together his sanity. He did have that orphanage, filled with kids who adored him, no doubt. It made me furious to think that if Nick ever wanted to go back to a normal, clean life, he'd have to go through the Gung Ho Guns first. They'd probably threaten his life, or even the lives of those kids if he even considered disobedience. I hate being forced to do this, to murder without question for some fucked up madman. I wish I had enough guts to tell them all to fuck off, and walk, but then I'd be dead. Painfully, I might add, which makes me hate myself more. Knowing that I choose my own life over the lives of others. Why am I doing this? Why am I digging myself deeper into depression, and slaying people for my own worthless hide? "Sometimes, when I pray, or when I'm around my kids.. I can forget it all." It's because I know that when I die, I am definitely not going to the same place as Sylvia. I'm not Religious, I don't believe in God, but she did. I figure that got her in someplace good, and I'm never going to see her again if I die like this. I don't want her to know me like this, I never want her to see the things I do. She'd cry. "You're lucky that you've got God on your side." Another plus for Nick. He's got a lot of people who love him, and I have nobody. Nobody would care if I wound up dead the next morning. How am I going to make up for all the things I've done, if everyone hates me? They'll know I was a killer, a low-class sleaze, a whore. People wouldn't accept help from a person who was like me. "Heh, if he still is, he would've had to close his eyes for a lot of things I've done." Maybe Sylvia closed her eyes, and never saw the things I did. Maybe she is still proud of me, and still loves me. Maybe I can atone for the things I've done. I don't think I can handle it all on my own. "Hey, Nick, if we ever get out of the Gung Ho Guns, would you take me to that Church of yours?" I know he wouldn't want to travel anymore, that he would want to stay with his kids. Maybe that's what I need. A stable environment, where I could help people, and not be around this pit of sin anymore. "Hm, if ya can learn to play Amazin' Grace on that sax of yers, then yer in." His hold around me tightened, and I returned the favor. He understood, and he actually did care enough to accept me, and I cared enough to know that I will work hard for redemption. Now all I have to do is make sure we live through it. I hope I'll see you again, Sylvia. "Deal." ~ The End ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ending Authors Note: Well, that at least had brighter ending then my normal Trigun fanfictions. Then again, if you know what happens to Midvalley later on in life, it's not that bright at all. I wrote this just to elaborate more on his personality, past, and motivation to keep on kickin'. At least, this is what I gathered from him, from reading the Manga. Hope ya liked it!