Title: Halfspeed
Author: trickygrin
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Notes: This is a surefire way of distressing for my week of Hell, paperwise. If you feel the need to r/r (which is totally awesometastic by my count), please take this into account and be gentle with this poor out-of-the-loop ficcer. Takes place sometime after the series. More later. Also, for the purposes of this fic I have given Meryl a slightly younger sister, though I can't recall if she actually had any siblings in the anime or manga.
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He couldn't understand what she was saying, for one thing. It seemed odd?he could recall having heard he yelling at him frantically only a moment ago, but now all he could hear was a buzzing noise just behind his face. Just behind his skull. Somewhere in the narrow recesses of his mind he was aware that something had gone horribly wrong, but he couldn't process that.

He'd been singing, hadn't he? Something sweet and short, something he'd heard on the radio in the bar downstairs. He'd sung there too, drunkenly, along with Millie as they worked their way up the alcoholic alphabet.

Downstairs? He'd made his way upstairs, still singing along, off-key and not caring one whit. Something about barmaids and dropping pitchers, he thought, though he couldn't be sure at this point just what the song had actually been about. Or even if that was the song that he was thinking of. For some reason, he could feel his thoughts slowing down and spilling all over his front, his back?

Flash

Where had he been?

Flash

He had walked up the stairs, holding the wall to keep it steady. Under his breath he kept muttering the refrain to Millie's new song. From the bar below, he could still hear her banging away at the piano, a rousing chorus of drunken voices lifted to pay homage to the piece she had chosen. Catchy.

Pausing for a moment to orient himself, Vash decided that perhaps the best course of action was to simply head to bed, rather than stargaze like he'd been planning to do. Inebriated as he was, he could easily see himself plunging over the edge of the roof and landing in the Thomas trough below. That would be difficult to explain to Meryl the next morning, assuming of course that he didn't drown in the slop.

her voice was soft behind him.

Straightening, he paused for a solid one-count before turning to face her. He hoped he didn't actually just say that, he sounded drunk! Wiping his mouth absently, he asked her, You goin' to bed too? Nope, he definitely sounded drunk. Shit.

You're drunk. Flat voice, flat expression. The disapproval rolled off of her in waves that kept him rocking....or perhaps that too was the alcohol. How much had he actually drunk?
Prolly a little--not too much...I'm still standin'. He wobbled.

Here...let me help you, she caught his arm, yanking it over her shoulder and huffing slightly as he put his weight on her gratefully. I'd yell at you, but I think I'll wait until you're sober enough to appreciate it, she muttered under her breath.

Hic. Hic...

Fumbling through his pockets ineptly, Meryl sighed heavily and batted his hand to the side before diving in herself with a little disparaging remark that sounded suspiciously like,

Emerging triumphant and a little embarrassed to be rooting around down there, she flipped the key into the lock and turned, leaning against the doorframe as the door itself swung into the room.

Hic.

The room was black, but to his befuddled senses it seemed too dark. Meryl, seeming not to sense the cloying nature of the black within the room, shouldered him once more and leaned in the room to flip the light on.

Click.

The room remained dark. She cursed, again under her breath. Flipping it twice more to no effect, she paused for a minute to readjust herself and haul Vash into his room.

Hic.

Creak.

The sound came from the far side of the room, the sound of someone readjusting their weight on the old sand-soaked boards of the inn's floor.

Meryl had been in many dangerous situations of her own, and she knew how to handle herself in times of trouble, but she had Vash, who while being aware of the danger itself, seemed incapable of action.

Who's there? She cut the quaver out of her voice before it even started. She and Vash were silhouetted and easy targets, if they had been in immediate danger it would've been over before she'd even been aware of the danger. I know you're there.

Hic. She didn't spare a glare for Vash, who cupped a hand around his mouth apologetically.

There was another creak, but no answer to her question.

But Millie was downstairs, could in fact, still be heard crooning over the damping effect the cold darkness before her.

Creak. Whoever it was, was seriously creeping her out.

Vash let go of her and adjusted himself against the doorframe, freeing up her hands. Making another apologetic motion towards the room, he motioned to her cape. His gun was on the nightstand just out of reach, it's iron barrel glinting dully by the window.

It was a voice, this she knew, it sounded like sand, dripping softly against the walls of the hourglass. It sounded almost like a laugh...but who or what laughed so softly and carefully?

Moving carefully, she slid a derringer out of it's holster, keeping her eyes darting around the room. Where was it coming from?

I should warn you, I am known in these parts as Derringer Meryl...I have quite a reputation. She tried not to squeak. Beside her, Vash had stiffened, staring into the black at something that she couldn't quite make out. Something that seemed to lack form, flowing from deepest shadow to reform underneath another patch of sticky black. Like tar.

The quiet dry laughter continued. Was it even laughter? What was this?

A-and this man is the fearsome outlaw, Vash the Stampede.

Vash stiffened. Was he even drunk anymore? A part of her noted the speed that he had recovered, and the rest of her shook in terror at something in the dark that pressed at her. Keep your head, Stryfe. Whatever this is, you've handled worse...' Why was she so scared? Was Vash feeling the same?

Who's there? His slur was gone, his eyes bright and hard as he pushed himself off of the frame, wobbling almost imperceptibly before steadying.

It was that goddamn laugh again, and she was furious with the ludicrous nature of this whole situation for a second. They'd been drinking...everything had been quiet for a deliciously wonderful amount of time...they'd begun to let down their guard.

It spoke, interrupting her thoughts, it's voice sounding like something that had been left outside for too long, as dead and cold as the room in which it now resided. Vash? So you're the Stampede now... Its voice rattled for a second as it started to laugh again, the sense of sand lost. Downstairs, Millie seemed to be singing at halfspeed, her voice as muted as if she'd been several buildings down.

Who are you? His voice was frigid, and the arm that clenched her derringer shook slightly. Every sense of hers was tingling with fear and anticipation, so much that she seemed to fill to the brim with shakes. Any minute now she might spill over, erupting as a quivering, and god forbid, useless mass on the floor. And then...they would die. She could feel that too. More so than in many other circumstances she'd been placed in, she could feel that if she lost herself now, she'd die and Vash with her.

What was going on?

Me? I'm nobody special. You, on the other hand, are the Stampede.' She could feel a sharp grin at this, her imagination bringing forth sharp ivory teeth smirking like the Cheshire Cat. I'm impressed. I'm meeting a celebrity.

What do you want with me? Vash's arm had risen in this time to be in front of her, protecting her, pushing her back. But she was the one with the gun, and she hadn't been drinking. Leaning against his push, she held her ground firmly, causing him to quirk his mouth in frustration. Her gun remained steady.

Nothing at all.

Who sent you?

No one. I'm a free agent, if you will. That awful laugh started up again, raspy enough to make her throat feel cracked.

Then leave.

Can't just yet. I have business with the young lady.

Vash started. Meryl blinked. This was a twist neither had been expecting. The thing before them was apparently not an ordinary bounty hunter or thrill seeker then.


Yes, miss. I have a delivery for you. Something special. She could feel his smile, too wide and too bright, as it grated against her psyche. Very special. Shhhhh....

Vash gave her a warning glance, still blocking her from the thing, which she promptly ignored.

What is it?

Something flew a corner of the room and thumped wetly to the floor before her. There was a shuffling series of creaks as the thing in the darkness readjusted its position, but she ignored all that and Vash's noises of protest as she leaned forward, her attention focused solely upon the item before her.

It was a stuffed bear, it's homespun face staring somewhere into the darkness behind it, as if it too feared what lay behind it. The thing in the shadows continued to laugh as she bent to pick it up, a shuddering chuckle that seemed to shake it's frame to pieces.

The bear was moist and sticky, and as she pulled one hand away in horror, it came away a faint brown in the yellow light. Copper flooded her nostrils, and she gagged as she dropped the bear on to the floor where it made a sickening splattering noise. With a small cry, she shuddered and dropped her gun, allowing it to bounce off of her shoe and clank against the wall. From the bear's new position, she could now see the ragged stitches up it's front where the stuffing had been ripped out and replaced with....something else.

Like it? Shhhhh.... I made it myself. The voice was now in front of her, behind her, all around her, and the world swirled in varying shades of brown, black and yellow as she fell to her knees. Her stomach clenched and it took all she had to keep from expelling the contents of her stomach right there and then. But that's not all. I have another gift for you.

Vash queried worriedly, keeping his eyes on the darkness and the voice knelt to try to help her up.

To her horror, Meryl discovered that she was sobbing silently, her ragged cries cutting through the thick air and drowning out it's shuddering laughter.

Do you want your gift? it asked, and without waiting for an answer she heard the soft click of a gun being aimed and primed at her. If her life had flashed before her eyes she might have recalled a statement much earlier about gunpowder and grease. If it had, she might've had a moment for a thought about brilliant blue, soft green, and thoughtful gray. As it was, she just stared dumbly into the black as something flashed...a gun presumably...and something to her side hurtled in front of her, before thumping back and slamming against the wall.

Then silence.

And finally that laugh.

Well, I wasn't expecting that. Although I guess, that serves my purpose just as well, if I'm not totally mistaken. Continuing to snicker, steps came closer to her, stopping just before the teddy bear, the lower half of the creature's legs visible from the lit area of the doorway. Vash's legs sprawled in front of him, and Meryl stood beside that, staring in shock around her, at the thing before her, at her own inability to act now, at the teddybear to her side, at Vash...he wasn't moving, and seemed to be choking and gurgling as he tried to breathe. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she breathe? Why couldn't she fight?

Why wasn't it shooting her?

Little girl, it's a pity you didn't take him home tonight, isn't it? Oh well, what's done is done. See you around. Turning around, the thing angled towards the window, finally silhouetted against the stars outside. All angles and points, deadly. She could feel that, could see it.

And then she could move, found herself diving for the gun and firing two shots, right for the thing. Her shoulder banged against the corner of the wall, but she ignored the pain, instead watching in horror as the thing turned briefly towards her, giving her the first view of her assailant.

Girl, we really don't need to be like that, the thing said, but she wasn't listening to it. Behind her she could hear Vash's struggled breathing as if he were right next to her, but she wasn't really hearing that either. All she could see was his face before her, his hawklike nose and tousled hair just as it'd always been. His shadow dangled behind him like a kite, whipping back and forth in the moonlight, crackling with energy and life.

Wolfwood? Is it--is it really you?

But he, or it, was gone, crashing through the window and into the night. A cool desert breeze wakened her from her stupor, blowing the angry black away and bringing everything into a sharp focus.

Vash...

Behind her, Vash moaned slightly, his voice dying quickly.

She whipped around to find him lying in a pool of his tattered coat, his spikey hair slicked with sweat and blood around his face, much like a crown or a halo, gleaming in the faint moonlight. Oh my god, Vash! Her mind was a total blank on what to do, what had happened, what was going on as she screamed his name into the distance.

FLASH

What had happened?

FLASH

He'd been shot, he realized, playing the scattered memories of the past few minutes back. Shot. He'd been shot before though.... Hadn't he? Why was he taking it so badly? Why couldn't he see? Why was it so difficult to breathe?

Most of all, Vash wondered as the world turned black and cold around him, he wondered why he couldn't tell Meryl that it was alright, that it all would be okay. Why couldn't he form the words? With her alarmed scream ringing in his ears, why couldn't he console her?

As the dark took him, he recalled the feeling of the room before they'd entered. This was that feeling. Sticky, cold, and wet with black. And the space in between echoing his name,
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Up next: Where, when and why? Meryl and Millie do some traveling.