A/N: Yet another product of writer's block. I wrote this instead of working on updates for my two main fictions. Hey, at least I'm writing. I swear, I have to be under so much stress in all other areas of my life to get any work on my fictions done. If by some chance you read my other fictions, don't worry, I start college in a week, so I should be writing soon. I promise. Really. Honestly. I do! I swear! (Sweatdrop)
Vash: Sagaaaaan…I'm boooored…
Spike: Me toooo…
Sagan Fox: I told you, I'd get back to your main stories soon!
(Meryl walks up from behind Vash and smacks him upside the head)
Meryl: What are YOU complaining for? You and I are the only characters in this fiction!
Vash: (rubs swollen cheek) Oh yeah…I guess I forgot!
Meryl: (grabs his ear and pulls him out of the room) Well don't forget again!
Sagan Fox: (sighs) What will I do with those two…
Spike: Forget them what about me?
Sagan: (eyebrow goes up, evil grin spreads across face)
Spike: Shit…
Anywho, read, enjoy, review. Especially that enjoy part. All who flame will be met with a berserker author clad only in fire and wielding a katana. And that isn't a pretty sight, folks. Many thanks to my beta-readers Discordia the Goddess of Irony and EarFetishGirl. Check out the fanfic of Discordia the Goddess of Irony! It's really good, and I beta-read it myself!
Anywho, folks, on with the show!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a time when Meryl Stryfe feared nothing. She would face down any man, overcome any obstacle, take on jobs even the most daring of her co-workers shirked. Her brothers didn't call her Derringer Meryl for nothing. But now, the simple act of passing through a door terrified her.
Ten days ago she and Milly had come to this town with a badly injured and barely lucid Vash the Stampede slung over a Thomas. The two women both subconsciously decided that it was no good talking about the incident in LR Town. Neither completely understood what really happened, and, on some level, neither thought they ever really would. All that mattered right then was that they find a place to let Vash heal. Almost as soon as they and the old man who gave them shelter unloaded him onto a bed, his waking coma turned into an unconscious one, and so he remained.
After greeting the man who took them in on the way to Vash's room, she paused before opening the door. What lay in wait for her on the other side? If she were lucky, Vash would still be asleep. As much as she wanted him to recover, she feared their first meeting after he came to. Her fear was born of immense guilt, and of the fact that she had no idea where to go from here. Vash, the man who refuses to kill even to save his own life, had killed to save hers. If she had not followed him into the desert, he may not have had to make that choice. How could she look in the eye a man who had broken the core principle of his existence because of her actions? Surely if his noble spirit was now shattered, the blame lay squarely on her shoulders.
Steeling her resolve, she shifted the weight of the grocery bag and turned the knob. She cautiously stepped into the room so, should he still be asleep, she would not wake him. After closing the door behind her, she turned around and was greeted by a dazed and disheveled Vash sitting up in bed. Their eyes met and locked, both unable to speak or pull away. What was she supposed to say to him? What could she say?
Meryl smiled nervously and began to put away the groceries, chattering about whatever came to mind. "Oh, you're awake! Already that's an improvement! I was worried about you. You must be hungry. I'll fix you some soup."
Her task kept her mind off of her anxieties, but the loaded silence between them didn't make it easy. Her only clue that he even knew she was there was his question, his voice still husky and dazed from sleep.
"Where are we?"
"It's a small village about 200 iles from the town of LR," she responded, "There's a lot of very kind people here living in this town. They let us stay here at this house so we could care for your wounds." She paused to pour the soup, and to consider her next question. "Do you remember anything?"
She turned and walked toward the bed, bowl held in front of her. "You've been asleep since we arrived, for ten days straight now."
Meryl handed him the bowl, and he mindlessly took it from her and stared into its contents, as if to divine his fortune from the dregs. She took a step back and smiled at this sign that he might be recovering.
"Here, it's my own recipe. Drink up, it's good for healing."
He continued to stare into the bowl, as if unaware of its presence despite the gentle heat radiating into his hands. Vash was numb to the world. Slowly, he began to speak.
"I remember. I remember all of it."
Meryl stared at him, shocked and completely at a loss for words. When scared or confused, a human's natural instincts give them two choices: fight or flight. Meryl chose flight.
"Oh hey, I almost forgot! I have to be somewhere! I better hurry! I'll be back later, 'kay? See ya!" She bolted for the door, then turned to take one last look at him. His body was shaking, like he was coming apart from the inside.
"Make sure you drink all your soup, okay?"
She left and closed the door behind her, then leaned pensively against the other side of the door. Fearless Meryl Stryfe had run away from someone who needed her. She winced as the sobs began on the other side of the door. She closed her eyes to stop the tears, but as the sobs grew into screams of anguish of the worst kind, they ran freely down her cheeks.
What was she to do? She was the cause of his torture, but all she wanted to do was run to him and take it all away. His cries cut her deeply, tearing at her resolve to maintain her distance from him.
Somehow, over the past few years, Vash the Stampede, the dangerous sharp-shooting outlaw had wormed his way into her heart. Two years ago, when she and Milly had believed him to be dead, she had tried to put him out of her mind, but could never do so completely. Every so often he would pop into her mind. What ever happened to Vash? Is he ok? Could she have done anything to save him? Would she ever see him again? Would he even want to see her again?
Well, Meryl, now you can save him, she thought. What are you going to do, run from your responsibilities? If you caused this torment, the only thing you can do is try to take it away! You owe him that if anything! It's your turn to make the choice, Meryl Stryfe. Do you run and let his own darkness consume him, or do you face him and be there when he needs you most? That gentle man would do the same for you, and you know it!
She clamped her hands down over her ears as his screams grew louder in an attempt to block them out, but to no avail. She knew that he was seeing it over and over in his mind. Him, pulling the trigger of his own volition, that terrible man falling to the ground, dead before he hit the dirt. He was hearing her and Milly's cries for help just as she was hearing his cries of sorrow and pain.
Her mind screamed at her. That's it! I can't take it anymore!
She pulled the door open to see him sitting on the bed curled in a ball, his knees drawn up to his chest. He had his face buried in his knees screaming into the small space while rocking back and forth. She stood frozen for a beat, then shook the trepidation from her mind and continued toward him. Strangely, she couldn't think of anything to say. She kneeled behind him on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder, then wrapped one arm around his chest to reassure him that he was not alone. With her other hand she gently stroked his back to soothe him. She didn't even know if he knew she was there, but she had to try to get through to him and bring him out of a very dark place.
Gently she whispered to him, "Vash, I'm here. I know it hurts, but I'm here for you. Please come back to me." She pulled him tighter to herself and continued to speak softly and slowly to him. "It's ok, it will be ok. You can get through this."
He continued screaming for what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes. By the time his cries died back down to sobs, her ears were ringing. She continued rubbing his scarred back like one would a distraught child. Meryl couldn't imagine his grief at that moment. It didn't seem possible that sorrow so deep would ever be healed. As a representative of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, it was her responsibility to make sure that reparations were paid and damages repaired, but she had no idea how to fix this.
I suppose, she thought, all I can do is reassure him that despite what he did, he is still the good person he always was. Even good people have to make difficult choices…what's important is how one atones for their mistakes. He needs to know that he's still the good person I know and…love.
Now Vash was no longer sobbing, but his skin had grown cold and clammy, and he was shaking. His body had gone into shock. Meryl sat up and stepped off the bed to pull the blanket around his shoulders.
"Vash, you're freezing! Your body is going into shock, you need to calm down."
He didn't respond as she drew the blanket around him and sat on the edge of the bed to face him.
"Vash? Can you hear me?"
"Why are you here?" His voice was so soft she almost didn't hear it. He still had his face buried in his knees, refusing to look at her.
"What do you mean, Vash?"
"I want you to leave. I want you and Milly to leave me and never look back."
His words hit her like a speeding Sandsteamer. She considered for a moment that he hated her and Milly for forcing him to make the choice to kill, and prayed that that wasn't the truth.
"I can't do that, Vash. Someone has to make sure you're taken care of."
"Leave, Meryl. Go away." He lifted his head slightly so she could better hear him.
Meryl leaned in and put a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I won't leave you, Vash."
He now picked his head up and locked eyes with hers. "Dammit, I said leave!" yelled Vash, with anger in his voice but pleading sorrow in his eyes.
Meryl was beginning to become angry herself. He was acting like a wounded child, lashing out at whatever was near. Impulsively she yelled back at him, "No!"
Vash let out a sound halfway between a sob and a growl and grabbed her arm. He pulled her hand off of his arm and pushed her away. She fell to the floor with a light thud and gasped. Meryl looked up at him from the floor with tears in her eyes and met his turquoise ones. He stared at her in shock at what he had just done.
"Oh god…Meryl, I…I'm sorry…" He buried his face in his hands and groaned with remorse as Meryl stood up and brushed herself off.
"You see, Meryl. Everything I touch is hurt. Anyone I get close to dies. It's all my fault…and now I've killed with my own hands. It was my own choice. I'm a killer, Meryl, I'm no better than he was!"
Meryl sat back down next to him, but did not reach out to him. "Vash…"
He looked over at her with tears running down his face, and spoke in a voice choked with grief. "That's why you have to go, Meryl, because I don't want you to die too."
She said nothing, but scooted closer to him and embraced him. Meryl put her hand to the back of his head as it fell to her shoulder and let him cry as his body shook with silent weeping. She let her head rest on his chest as tears sprang to her own eyes, and ran her fingers through the soft hair at the back of his neck.
He does not deserve this, fumed Meryl. This is what that bastard wanted! He wanted to make Vash suffer like this, even if it meant his own life! No one…no one should be taken advantage of like this…
She didn't know how much time had passed when he stopped crying. He pulled away from her and rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. Meryl discretely wiped away her own tears and smoothed her rumpled clothes. Vash continued to stare down at his hands in his lap. A heavy silence hung between them before he spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper.
"Why did you stay with me?"
"I…needed to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. Some of your wounds haven't fully closed yet, " she responded, hoping that answer was satisfactory.
"No…why did you keep following me. For all this time…why did you stay with me?"
The small woman paused and thought before she answered. If she told him the truth, that she loved him and that, despite the stress and the danger, she wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with him, she would sound like a pathetic groupie following a favored musician. "Because it's my job. It's my duty to minimize the damages in events related to Vash the Stampede. If I weren't there to document your actions and intervene wherever possible, who knows what would happen?"
He continued staring at his hands in his lap. To Meryl, he seemed crestfallen, as if he were hoping for something more. "Oh."
Again, both were silent. He was expecting more, and Meryl knew it. That her own fear caused her to let him down ashamed her, and she began to blush. She felt compelled to say something more to him, but couldn't find the words.
"At least…that's what it was at first," she began, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Actually, field work is the best part of my job. I can help more people this way. I like traveling, seeing new places, helping people where I can."
"But why stay with me! You could do the same thing anywhere, with anyone else. Why risk your life by following me?"
"Because…you're a good person. And you seemed like you needed it the most."
He let his head fall, and his voice once again became choked with pain. "But I'm not a good person. I'm a killer; my hands are no cleaner than his were. I'm responsible for the deaths of so many…July, Augusta…Wolfwood. All the people around me, they all die. Everyone…everyone dies…" Tears began to flow freely down his face again, and he wept silently.
Meryl reached up and softly wiped away his tears with her thumbs, cupping his face in her hands. She tenderly lifted his head to look into his eyes. He looked away suddenly, ashamed to weep so openly in front of her.
"Vash, look at me," she whispered gently, "Look into my eyes."
He complied, and aqua green met violet gray. His reddened eyes betrayed every emotion to Meryl. She paused to wonder what her own eyes betrayed to him.
"You are a good person. And you don't deserve to be tortured like this. You…have the purest heart of anyone on this planet, and if it weren't for you, Milly and I, not to mention countless others, would be dead. Yes, he is dead. But how many people did his death save? He wouldn't have stopped with Milly and I, he would have killed everyone else too."
"But I still killed him. It was my hand, my choice. I wanted him to die, and you and Milly to live."
"You just made what you saw as the best choice with the least sacrifice. He wanted you to make that choice because he knew what it would do to you. He wanted to break you, to make you suffer like this. Do you want to let him win like this?"
He thought in silence for a few minutes, breaking Meryl's gaze to once again stare intently at his hands. After a pregnant calm, he answered, "No."
"You're too strong to lose to him like this. And too good. I know you can make things right."
"You really have this much confidence in me?"
"Of course I do. Because I—" love you. She couldn't say it. She couldn't tell him the three simple words that would expose the workings of her heart. "—Because you are my friend…" she whispered, and threw her arms around him, holding him close to her. "…And because I believe in you."
He tentatively wrapped his arms around her, then pulled her securely to him in his strong arms. Meryl knew that his storm had finally cleared, and that in time he really would be alright. If all she had accomplished here was to lift his heart a bit, that was enough for her. Someday she would tell him how she felt, and she could only hope that he felt the same.
Unbeknownst to her, the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of Vash's lips. He lifted his head from her shoulder and leaned in close next to her ear. He then whispered to her,
"Well, I suppose if the unflappable Meryl Stryfe believes in me, what choice to I have but to trust her?"
Fini! So, how was it? Was it good for you too? PLEEEEEEEEEASE review. I LIVE for reviews!
(Sagan Fox gets up from her computer and pounds on the wall)
Sagan Fox: Will you two keep it down for crying out loud? Geez…I never should have given Meryl the key to his room…
(Spike enters the room)
Spike: I know something we could do to get your mind off them… (Grins)
Sagan Fox: (Evil grin) Lead the way, mi corazon…