Elaboration on a Ballad, a trigun fanfic

Elaboration on a Ballad
by Angela Griffen
beta: Jori

Can you play me my favourite ballad?

Maybe if you hum a few bars.

Well, it goes:

There are two men covered in sand and scar tissue; one is dark, one light. Good men in their hearts, but a little rough around the edges. The dark one chain smokes and forgets to shave. The light one has a prosthetic arm and drinks too much.

Their purpose is true. Driven by dark pasts to do what is right. On a planet like this, that means carrying more ammunition than a small army, and travelling from town to town trying to save the world.

One was a priest, the other an angel.

They whispered pretty things in the ears of their girls about love and honour, and about how someday, they would be finished with saving the world. "I want to live in the shade of trees and have a family," they'd say.

Men like these never mean to lie, but saving the world comes before the important things. A man who smells of gunsmoke often moves on.

One awoke one day, loaded his gun, and said, "Stay here until I get back."

The other left a few weeks later, promising to return as soon as his task was over.

Walked off into the sunset.

"Please?"

"If you'll have me."

And when they kiss, his callused fingertips on the skin of her stomach make it real.

"I love you."

A hesitation before he says, "Don't say things like that, honey."

"Why not? It's true."

"I can't live up to you."

It is only after she's fallen asleep that he answers.

Vash is the one who found him still clutching his cross in the bleeding chapel.

Milly is surprised at how unsurprised she is, but that doesn't stop the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach or the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Wearing his red coat, Vash is fiercely determined, like some avenging angel come down to right all the wrongs in the world. He holds his jaw tight, hand never leaving his gun.

Meryl wants to speak, like she knows is right, but it all seems so trivial, right down to the breaking of her heart. She wouldn't want him to be distracted by the idea. She wouldn't want to ruin everything.

He turns to the final battle, and she can tell him when he gets back.

Days turn into weeks, which turn into months, and suddenly, he left half a year ago.

"He's going to come back."

"Of course, Ma'am."

"He's going to come back."

"Vash is honourable."

"He's going to come back."

Milly smiles gently at Meryl, an act of reassurance, but even Milly's optimism can fail sometimes.

She has a child by him: a little boy who screams himself sick for his first year.

Nicky grows into a toddler whose black hair is too long and always tangled, no matter how much she tries to tame him. She tells him stories about his father until Nicky gets bored and wanders off to build a tower of plastic blocks.

Every time she sees Meryl, she knows Vash hasn't returned either.

Sitting at the table, drinking tea, and talking about everything except what's important. Finally, Meryl breaks her silence. "He isn't coming back, is he?"

Milly tries to think of the kindest way to say, "No, probably not," when the boy looks up from his elaborate city of blocks. "Who?"

It will distract Meryl for at least a little while to pull Nicky into her lap and begin, "I know you've heard the legends of Vash the Stampede..."

"Why are you waiting, Milly? He's dead."

"I have a son to raise."

"So you don't need happiness?"

"I have my happiness. My family."

"I don't believe you."

"Well," Milly concedes at last, "I'm not as happy as I could be."

"We would have heard if Vash died."

"Yes."

"So he just left?"

"Maybe he isn't finished fixing things yet."

It is six years since the beginning of the end, when the dust storms come. Meryl was visiting when the wind picked up, and now she waits the storm out.

Milly tucks Nicky into bed before she brings blankets out to Meryl.

"It's like the typhoon," Meryl says. Milly doesn't answer, and Meryl realizes what she's said. "I miss him."

"I know." And she sits down next to Meryl on the sofa, spreading the blanket over their legs and putting the other around their shoulders.

"You think I'm being silly, don't you?"

"You can't help how you feel."

"I should get over it. I don't have the excuse of a son."

"Nicky isn't an excuse."

"Other men are so horrible. Leering and grabbing when they shouldn't."

"Don't rush, then."

"Will you stay here with me? I could use the company."

Meryl rests her head on good, strong, dependable Milly's shoulder, and they fall asleep that way.

Meryl didn't go home for a week, even though the storms were over after two days. She made sandwiches and slept on the sofa, most of the time with Milly's shoulder as her pillow.

On the seventh night, she says, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I'm sick of being alone."

Milly straightens a little to pull back and look at Meryl. "Oh."

It takes Meryl a moment. "I didn't mean--"

But Milly stops her, holding up a finger to signal quiet. "You're my best friend."

"You won't go chasing bad guys on me, will you?"

Milly smiles. "You know I only chase good guys."

"Me too."

The conversation lulls for a moment.

"Do you want to fix up a room upstairs for you?"

"I love you."

It happens suddenly.

Milly just smiles, and Meryl feels the need to explain. "I don't mean like a sis--"

"I know."

And that is when they first kiss.

"I want to learn to shoot," says eight year-old Nicky.

"Oh no, you don't, young man. Your mother will wash your mouth out with soap if she hears you talking like that. That's how your father got into so much trouble."

"But I want to be strong! I want to protect her."

"So did he."

"So why can't I?"

"There are better ways, Nicky. Staying here with her and being safe are most of them."

He's been gone ten years when he returns, looking the same as he always did, only he no longer wears his red coat. Another man is with him, but he excuses himself shortly after their arrival.

"This is my brother, Knives."

"Is that--"

"I had to save him."

"I'm glad you came back."

Milly and Nicky come down the stairs arguing about whether or not Nicky can stay home from school sick, even though he looks perfectly healthy to Meryl.

After greeting Vash with a hug, Milly leans over to give Meryl a kiss on the cheek before she and Nicky walk out the door.

After the door slams shut, Vash smiles. "It all worked out then, didn't it?"

"Yes. I suppose it did."