(As a note, I don't own Trigun, or any of the characters. The song in this fic was is not my own either, though it is perhaps a bit different than the original. Nonetheless, it is not my own, and thus property of the song itself goes to Alison Krauss and Brad Paisley, "Whiskey Lullaby." )
Thirteen years. Thirteen years from the end of the final battle with Knives. Thirteen years of peace for man, and yet..thirteen years of torture for two girls who were waiting for him to come home. More specifically, one woman who wanted to see him..just one more time. More so than any other person the planet.
She was there, waiting outside underneath the beautiful mass of twinkling stars. Watching the sky for any sign of a destined or preordained chance of seeing him again. Though every night as she went out to pray, the only sound that every answered was the solemn song of the desert wind, howling as it hit the nearby houses and hotels.
There had never been any letters. No notices on how he was, where he'd been, or what had happened. Nothing at all. Did he even care? She would never know. It tore at her heart..to even think of it that way. Strangers. Forever. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Somewhere in the darkness from behind her, she heard someone call her name. Millie. Must have been. There would be no one else. No one else to even think of looking. She smiled to herself, and dragged herself up from the ground. Millie was the best friend anyone could ever had.
The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself
Her hands were closed around a small picture, holding it as if it were the most precious object. Clutching it as if her own life depended upon it. The other hand was holding a bottle. An empty bottle. Not that it mattered what it had contained. The contents would have been obvious to her friend. Millie always knew what she wanted or thought of before even she herself could understand. That made her smile again. "You always were able to do that..weren't you?"
Instead of following her friend's cries or her, she left to go home. Millie would know where to find her. The wind seemed to pick up a bit, urging her home all the more. Though her pace was not at all fast, neither was it slow. She was tired perhaps, but did not need sleep. When she finally found her way home, she pulled the keys from her pocket and opened the door slowly.
It crept open..hinges squeaking in protest. And yet, there was no response from anyone within the house. None at all. No Millie. Nobody. No Vash.
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
Closing the door behind her, she made her way for her bedroom, praying to whatever God would listen, that all she wanted was to go to sleep. Even though she had reasoned with herself, that she didn't need it. No matter how late it was. The empty bottle dropped to the floor, mercilessly breaking apart upon the floor. She didn't mind. She would clean it up tomorrow. If not..the next day.
Millie had known. Or years she had known Meryl took to drinking. She knew, yes, but Vash would never know, would he? No. Perhaps not. Thirteen years is a long time. At first, she tried to hide it from her friend, hoping that even if Millie had found out she wouldn't stop her. That's what unnerved her. Millie had found out, she had broken down, crying over it. Telling Meryl how sorry she was. But she did not stop her. Never took any bottle away from her. Never. Not once.
Her own bed was empty, and the moonlight from the window was pouring through idly, almost as if thinking it might comfort her with it's rays. She found her way to the desk over in the corner, never bothering to switch on the light. When she reached the chair, and finally sat down..a low sob raked through her body. Her other hand was no longer clutching the picture. It had fallen to the floor, lonely and forgotten.
Almost as if on cue, she reached for an unopened bottle in the corner. Opened it. Began to drink.
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
Only this time, the liquid which began to drip helplessly down her cheeks mingled with her tears. This time, it wasn't working. There had been times when it did help..it had made everything go away. It was a pain-killer. She needed it now more than ever, and yet…it wasn't working.
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
She could still see him, laughing and goofing off like a stupid idiot. Blonde hair and all. Red trench and gun holster. Beautiful blue eyes. Smiling at her. And then it was gone, fading into former memories. Ones with Legato..ones with Knives..even more with Vash.
Could she let him go? It hurt her heart, to have her memories remind her of him. No matter. They would go away. The pain always went away. Eventually. She took another drink, tears still flowing swiftly down her face. A sudden sob forced her to remove the bottle, coughing.
Until the night,
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
She didn't want him to go. She had never wanted him to go. Never wanted him to go and fight Knives. Wanted him to stay. Wanted to love him..and have him love her. She would have done anything for him. She might have went after him..had he not asked her to stay behind. He never did come back.
That's what hurt the most. Never knowing how he was. Never knowing what had happened to him. It had torn her heart apart, to wait year after year, hoping that one day he would return. Another set of sobs followed. It was beginning to work. She could feel the memories fading away..the pain and torture slowly lifting from her heart. But it wouldn't go without a fight. It had to leave a scar.
Life is short but this time it was bigger
It had been the picture on the ground that had attracted her attention for a few moments. Seeing him, smiling back at her in his stupid outfit, unaware that later in life he would never come back to see her again. Never think to look back on her. Not once. The picture was what drove her to pick it up from the floor. What drove her to move to her bed, bottle in hand, and still crying silently.
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
She tripped partially on the remnants of the previous bottle, landing on her knees before her bed. The bottle had yet again fallen from her hands, but this time it landed with care, rolling away and all the while spilling the remains of its contents. The picture would have fallen as well, only this time, she kept the grip upon it. Not again. She wouldn't let it go again. Pulling herself to her feet, she sat on the edge of the bed, just staring at the picture, letting the tears flow.
He'd never come back. Why hadn't he come back..after all this time?
"I love you Vash." But the whisper went unheard, the only response were her own tears, falling on the picture. It would never change. Every day would be the same, as long as he was away. She would never..truly be her old self again without him. Ever.
She didn't know how long she had sat there. Looking at the picture and crying to herself. Time had passed beyond her own understanding. Finally, she was out of tears. There were none left to cry. Outside, the sky was beginning to light, and the stars were fading. Slowly, she began to fall asleep, finally resting on her bed.
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life-
And when we buried her beneath the willow
The angels sang a Whiskey Lullaby.
There he was. Miles away from here, and yet, somehow he was under the exact emotional problems that she had gone through. Drinking. Waiting. Biding time.
He wasn't anywhere in particular, simply out on the desert land, watching the stars mourn and rejoice with one another. Though he had once shifted emotions so rapidly, now all he felt was guilt, remorse, and misery. Three emotions. No more, no less.
He had thrown his heart away, to leave her. Thirteen years he had lived hollow. Praying for one last chance..even from long-distance…just to see her face. But then, he knew he couldn't. He had to protect her. Keep her safe.
This would be the only way. Though it would give him nothing but sorrow, he would protect her.
The fight was long over. He knew that more so than anyone. There was no longer a threat for humans. Knives himself had ended it long ago. Without hesitation. After the battle he gladly took his own life. To leave Vash even more remorse in his heart. To make him feel pain. To punish him or not obeying.
It had worked. Better than anything. He never did forgive himself. To this day, he blamed himself for Knives' death. And with that logic in mind, he knew he could never see her again. Everyone who was close to him, or had known him had died thus far. Why place her in danger as well? No. He would never. No matter how many years it would take for her to be safe. Even if it took a lifetime.
He spent his whole life tryin' to forget
His heart was broken. There was no doubt on that. Leaving her behind to go through such torture..just to keep her safe, had sickened him more than anyone would ever know. Many times he tried to forget her, hoping and praying that she would forgive him one day. Not that he deserved it.
Eventually, he found the mission impossible. There was no way he could ever forget her. Ever. He loved her. And in his heart he knew…she would never know.
"I'm sorry Meryl." An unheard whisper, which was only ignored by the silent desert air. Not even the faintest hint that the wind had even heard the message. Only the stars seemed to dull at the words, knowing the pain that tore at his heart so mercilessly.
And then the tears. For so many years, he had tried to hold them back. Impossible. Almost like erasing her from his memories. It would never happen. Ever.
In his one hand, he carried a favorite item, one of which he had always had time or, hoping that he never did run out. It was all he had spent his money on for the past years. It was all that kept him going every minute..of every day. The liquid was kept this time in a canteen, but the alcohol still had the same grand effect it always had. It never did change. A pure pain killer.
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
It really helped when he could no longer take anything anymore. When he thought he would die of heartache. Was it possible?
He had written many letters to Meryl, but never once did he send them to her. Afraid that she would hate him, or worse, that she would not receive them. Afraid that he would let something important slip. Afraid that she would get hurt, as everyone did. Everyone that was around him. Everyone close to him. Everyone he knew. Everyone he loved.
And Gods..how he loved her. How he had always kept her in his heart. But then, he never could tell her. Never did tell her. The tears flowed even harder when he thought about it. "All I wanted…was to protect her." As if in answer, the winds billowed up a light cloud of sand, and the stars seemed to darken further.
He had never felt such a pain when he left her to fight Knives. When he told her to stay behind, and leave the fight to him. "And then I had the nerve..to never come back." It looked as if he had tried to smile. But it failed miserably, for a sob had broken through.
Still letting the sobs take him along the way, he turned back, heading east as far as he knew. A small town lay nearby. An abandoned town. No one lived here, everyone had long gone, whether out of fear of something or lack of resources he couldn't remember. But they were gone. Never did come back.
The own place in which he stayed was dusty. Completely messy, and unorganized. Not that he cared. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing would, when you had lost everything you ever loved in life. Everything that ever kept you going to see the next morning.
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
There was no door to his own room. The hinges had long been torn off. His bed was much cleaner than anything else in the house though. That at least, he allowed himself. Over in the corner were scattered papers. Pens were everywhere.
He didn't bother picking anything up. He moved towards the bed, and then stopped. A single paper had caught his eye more than the others. Only one minute later did the sobs break forth again, blue teal eyes shedding an unknown amount of tears.
The pain was literally stabbing at him now. Trying to control his emotions, he opened the canteen, and immediately drank what he could. He nearly emptied the bottle when he finally had the heart to look back.
Until the night
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
It was for her. A note he had written to himself long ago. Ever since he had written similar ones, just to remind himself of why he spent his life in misery. Why he spent time going through heart aches, and drinking so much more than the average man. Why he never…ever…could forgive himself.
Bending over, he picked it up or a moment, gazing into the words, hoping that the pain would not come back again. Unfortunately so, some things were never easy to let go. Almost immediately, he fell to his knees, the silent tears flowing onto the words. Why did he ever let her go? Why couldn't he ever have been with her? The words on the note answered everything for him. It was the purest and truest thing he had ever heard in his life.
Life is short but this time it was bigger
I'll love her until I die. Although..they did carry a lie with them. It was wrong in the fact that he would love her until he died. Oh no. He would love her or longer than that. Longer than death.
When he tried to lift himself from the ground, he found his body shaking in sorrow. Naturally, he was weak because of it. It felt as if all the weight of the world was forcing him down, but nonetheless, he rose. The edge of the bed was as far as he could go for the moment, but it would do perfectly.
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees
His hands were shaking violently as he held the note in his hand. But he smiled all the while, and then began to laugh. Despite this, tears were still falling silently down his face. "I'll never forget Meryl. Never. In all my life, I'll never forget how much I love you."
The moonlight reflected upon him or a moment, lighting his blonde hair and face. "Never."
He remained like that, for perhaps a few hours, he wasn't sure. Not that it mattered. The stars were making their farewells by the time he finally laid his head down, gazing at the ceiling. In his hand, he still clutched to paper. All the while, he had cried enough. No more tears were shed. Instead, he turned over, burying his ace in the pillow. Praying that no matter what, she would be safe. Forever. And he would love her. Forever.
We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.