Chapter Four:
Redeemed
She woke up groggy and disoriented. She couldn't place where she was or even who she was for a moment. The ugly cracked ceiling stared back down at her, answering none of her questions. She tried to sit up but quickly fell back down with a sharp cry of pain. Her shoulder screamed at her, protesting at being moved carelessly like that. It all started to come back now. The interrogation room, getting shot, the vents. The last thing she remembered is stopping under a fan that led up and away to freedom. But she was powerless to escape, much less stand, so she had settled for laying there waiting for the moon to rise so she could stare on. How did she get back here? She was shaken from her reverie from an urgent message from her body, one that would be embarrassing to ignore.
She was struggling to roll over on her left side when the door opened. Vash slipped quietly in, dressed in his casual clothes. He didn't look surprised to see her awake, probably having been alerted to it by her cry of pain a moment ago.
"You shouldn't be trying to get up so soon. You need to rest." He softly scolded, coming over.
"Can't help it. Have to." She managed to say hoarsely, still pulling herself to the edge of the bed in awkward jerky motions. She vaguely noted that she was dressed in her oversized nightshirt and that was about it.
"Why? Just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you." She pointed to the bathroom while swinging one leg over the edge. "Oh...Gee, for all the times for Millie to be out. Ok, don't push yourself too hard. I'll help you over there." He tried to help her stand but her legs might as well have been made of overcooked pasta noodles for all the support they gave her. After a few moments of watching her try to pathetically stand on her own, he had mercy on her and just picked her up.
She assured him that she could handle things on her own inside. He waited by the door, back turned, while she did her business. Once she was done she actually managed to walk several steps before having to lean heavily against the sink to keep from falling over.
"Do you think you can make it on your own or would you like me to carry you again?"
"Carry..." She said kicking her pride to the curb.
Once she was settled back into the bed he turned and wordlessly left the room. She covered her eyes with her good arm, willing herself to fall back to sleep. Everything was so strange. How did he manage (and it only could have been him) to get her out of there? And there was the silence. The tension of it was starting to eat at her, but then again what could either of them say to the other? She considered trying to apologize but didn't have the strength to go into the potentially lengthy explanation. She tried even harder to escape back into the dark nothingness where the dreams made more sense than what was going on about her now.
The door opened again and he returned. It was only half a minuet after he had left but it had felt like an hour. She tried to pretend that she was asleep already, but it didn't make a difference. The bed shifted slightly as he sat down on the edge and she felt his hand slip under her back, pulling her up into a sitting position.
"Common Meryl, wake up. I need you to take these." He said sitting two little grey pills down on the blanket then reaching for a glass of water on the night stand.
"What is it?"
"Antibiotics. Crawling around in those grimy vents didn't do you any favors." he said, halfheartedly trying to joke.
"Not now." She said, wanting to lie back down. All the moving around was making her shoulder scream bloody murder and she was beginning to get a little nauseous.
"Please Meryl. Millie is going through a lot to get these for you. At least take them for her." He pleaded with her. She didn't answer but picked the little capsules up with clumsy fingers and put them in her mouth. After a few sips of the water he let her lay back down again. She immediately covered her face again, jaw clenched tightly.
"I'm sorry we don't have anything for the pain. It's all Millie could do to get these for you. And I would give you some alcohol but it would interfere with the antibiotics. I'm so sorry."
She waved her fingers in a dismissive gesture, but felt her composure start to crumble. He hurt in sympathy as he watched her struggle not to cry. He knew exactly what she was going through, but couldn't do anything to help it. Over the years he had gotten accustomed the pain of a gunshot wound, she didn't have any such experience. He remembered back to the first time he had gotten shot. It had been in the leg. At least she was taking it better than he had...he had thrown an unholy fit, he reminisced dryly amused.
He didn't know whether he should stay or leave. Most people liked to be alone when they were hurting, not wanting to be seen in their vulnerable state. But if he could offer any comfort, he would stay with her. But then again...she was angry at him and probably didn't want much to do with him at the moment. But she was crying...it would be heartless to just get up and walk away.
"Is there...anything I can do?" he ventured.
"What's the trick?" She asked through gritted teeth.
"Trick?"
"For getting past the pain. I've seen you...shot a bunch of times...you act like its nothing...What's the trick?"
He sighed. "There's no trick Meryl. I'm just used to it...that's all." She tensed further, not wanting the answer that she got. "Just try to focus on something else. That's all I can tell you." Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because the silent stray tears began to turn into full out crying.
"I just want to go back to sleep." She told him through harsh breaths. He couldn't take this anymore.
Surprising her into silence for a few moments, he gently scooped her up, blanket and all, and cradled her as if he would a child. He softly began to hum the first song that came into his head. The difference was almost instantaneous. She tensed, uncomfortable with the unexpected actions, but the crying eased, if not ceased all together. Not five minuets later, she was asleep once more.
-L&P-
"Common Mr. Johnson! Wakey wakey!" Millie brightly said, setting down the tray of food on his stand.
"Go away!" Came the nasally muffled reply out from under the pillow.
"Now now, if you don't eat then how do you expect to get any better? Hmm? At least eat a little of it...for me?"
"Its no use sweetheart...He does this every week." Said the man in the other hospital bed, his entire left leg in a cast.
"Every week? What for?" She asked, not quite getting why the little old man would refuse food on a weekly basis. He threw the pillow off of his face and glared at the tall woman in scrubs before him.
"You and everyone else in this dratted place have another thing coming if you think I'm going to eat those...things." He said jabbing his finger at the tray, giving it the evil eye.
"But their just salmon sandwiches..."
"That is not salmon!"
"Here we go..." The other man moaned, obviously having had go through this many times before.
"Think about it missy...salmon is fish, right?"
"Right!" She nodded happily.
"Fish are supposed to live in an ocean, aren't they?"
"Right!"
"Well...we don't have no oceans...now do we?" He said in almost a whisper.
"Well uh, no, I guess not..." She faltered.
"Then how can that be salmon! It ain't! I tell ya its some kinda junk that the government is dishing out to us! For all we know its minced sandworm!"
"Gee...I never thought sandworm would taste so good." She said thoughtfully. The man in the other bed laughed once, laughed again, and then completely lost it. Mr. Johnson, on the other hand, was stunned into complete silence. Unable to think of a suitable retort, he quietly picked up his little container of juice and sipped at it.
Millie chuckled contentedly to herself, delivering the other man his tray then going back out to the hall where the food cart waited. She pushed it along, moving down the hall to the next room so she could deliver food to the other patients there. She would have to hurry along though, she still had to gather up the used linens (her least favorite chore), and do her janitorial duties for the first floor. Humming softly to herself she reflected on how she came to be working here.
While she hadn't been happy with Vash'es decision to keep Meryl out of a hospital she had to accept the logic of it. She didn't know why her friend had done the things that she had, and Vash wasn't a good source of information as he had fallen into one of his quiet moods. After hearing the rough details of how he got her, Millie let the matter drop, she was just glad that Meryl was alive and they had the two weapons that they had set out for.
They had figured that after a few days Meryl would be well enough to move and the upturned city would be settled enough for them to slip away back to New Oregon. Fate, on the other hand, obviously wanted them to stay for a while longer.
The red inflamed skin around her bandages had the tell-tell signs of a serious infection setting up, one that they had partially expected but had hoped against. Something this serious would need more than over the counter medicine, but they couldn't risk taking her to any clinic. So, Millie decided, she would bring the medicine to her. It was as simple as that in her eyes, and nothing would dissuade her from trying.
Her confidence in the simplicity of the task began to crumble as she was rejected from one medical institution to the other. They had said that without a patient they simply could not be handing out medicine. To do so would cause every drug dealer and average Joe looking to sell meds for a quick buck to come flooding in. She had tried the same story with everyone of them when they asked her to bring the patient in: that her friend was deathly phobic of doctors and would sooner suffer than to go to a hospital. They had all smiled sympathetically at her but offered her no help other than the advice to try harder to reason with her fearful friend.
Discouraged, Millie had even begun to consider theft. She cringed at what her big-big brother would say to her if he knew that she was even considering such a thing, but she knew that he would understand that it would be for a noble cause. The flaw in this plan was even if Millie did managed to sneak into a pharmacy store room, she would have absolutely no idea of what to take. She knew little to nothing about medicines and the thought of accidentally taking a poison was enough for her to toss away the idea all together.
It was only when she wearily walked through the doors of January's somewhat disheveled St. Richards hospital did luck smile upon her. As she waited patiently in the lobby for the head of the hospital to see her about her strange request, she noted the poor state the place was in. The stone floor had sand tracked everywhere, boxes that once held supplies were stacked haphazardly in corners and along the halls, and everyone that worked here had a stressed worn look to them. She had called one man over when he got on his break and was making a dash for the exit so he could take a smoke. At first he was annoyed by the interruption, but never one to shunt aside a pretty lady, he walked on over to her.
"Excuse me mister, but could you answer some questions for me? I'm really really curious." She began, putting on her politest demeanor.
"Fire away doll." He said crossing his arms in a relaxed stance.
"Well, why is everything so worn down? Is the hospital going out of business?"
"Why no. Financially we're just fine, but all this union nonsense has half our staff on strike."
"On strike? Why would they just quit when there are people here that need them?"
"Ahh, it's complicated..." He said pulling the cigarette out from behind his ear and rolling it over his fingers. "It's only been two weeks and this place is already starting to fall apart, we seriously need some extra staff to help out until the negations fall through. Christ what a mess..." He said running his fingers through his hair.
Millie had thanked the kind man and let him on his way. An idea was beginning to form, albeit it was somewhat of a manipulative idea, but hey, it would be for a good cause on more than one account. Not long after she had her idea she was called into the directors office.
The man watched impassively as Millie went into her spiel, waiting for her to stop babbling on. When she had finished he had politely yet condescendingly told her what each and every other place had.
"I'm sorry young lady but we can only administer medication to patients admitted to the hospital."
"Isn't there any other way? I'm sure we could work something out." She pleaded.
"If you are trying to bribe me miss, it won't work. There is not much you could offer anyway, I'm afraid."
"I wasn't trying to bribe you!" She said indignantly. "I was just saying that we could possibly help each other out."
"Alright then...tell me. I know what you want, for me to just hand you medication without going through the proper channels, but what is it that you could offer me?"
"Like I said...help." She said, surprised that he didn't get it already.
"Excuse me?"
"Help. I talked with one of the nurses outside and he said that there is a shortage of helping hands around here. And from looking around from what I've seen...he's right. I could help out around here; I'm a real hard worker! And you won't even have to pay me! We'll just call it charity! How about that?"
Millie could see that the man was seriously considering her offer. He tapped his fingers against his desk rhythmically, eyes glazed as he thought hard. Millie decided to go for the extra push.
"I promise I'll work whatever hours you need me too and I'll stick around until you get all of your old workers to back. How does that sound?" He stared at her hard for a moment. He then spoke up slowly, suspiciously.
"How do I know that you won't just run off once I give you the medicine?"
"What? Is my word not good enough?" She asked, hurt.
"Frankly, no. But then again...I've just had a thought. Instead of giving you the entire dosage of medicine...what if I gave it to you at the end of every work day. Think of it as...uh...your wages."
"Yes sir!" She said, jumping up and offering her hand in a shake of agreement.
All of that had been a few days ago. She was now working away and they were really putting her through her paces. Millie had been stationed working on the first floor. She worked twelve hour shifts, going overtime an hour twice already. All the bustling around the hospital was quickly exhausting, and she missed being back at the little apartment with her friends. And she worried about them too. But on the other hand, having the chance to help out all of these nice people was very gratifying. She didn't have much interaction with the patients, but whenever she did, she always tried to put on her best happy face to try and cheer them up and make them forget their problems. Every time one of them returned her smile she felt some of her own pain ease slightly. It wasn't enough to make it go away but it helped. Remembering this, she wiped away the frown that was slowly forming and put on a bright smile as she carried food into the next patients room.
"Rise and shine Ms. Maples..."
-L&P-
That evening Millie drug herself up the stairs to their apartment. Her heavy stun gun weighed her down every step of the way but she refused to leave it behind, she had been taught better than to walk around unarmed. She fumbled around with the stuff in her pockets before she found the key.
"I'm home..." She said in more of a sigh than a greeting call. She dropped her stuff by the door then flopped over on the couch face first. The smell of something burning reached her nose, but she didn't budge, she didn't care at the moment.
"Hey welcome back Dr. Thompson!" A cheery voice called from in the kitchen. "I though you were coming back sooner. Actually I was starting to get worried."
"You don't have to worry about me Mr. Typhoon. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I even tie my own shoelaces now." She said, lifting her head long enough to speak then letting it drop back down. She heard a chuckle come from the kitchen and smiled. The smile faded a little bit when she looked at the closed bedroom door. She wanted to ask how Meryl was doing but she could already guess. And Vash seemed like he was in a good mood and she didn't want him to clam up again on her. So she sat up and asked something else that had been on her mind the whole day.
"Hey Vash?"
"Yeah Millie?" He said peering around the doorway. She started for a moment when she saw the large red smear across the side of his face, thinking that he had been injured, but giggled as she realized it was only spaghetti sauce.
"Where do you think that the grocery stores get salmon?"
"You know I've never really thought about it."
"Never ever?"
"Nope"
"Do you think it's actually fish or something else like, uh, sandworm or something?"
"I sure hope its fish. Although now that you mention it, something smells fishy about the whole deal." he said, scratching his head with the handle end of a spoon. "I kinda wish you hadn't said anything. The thought of having been munching away on sandworms for the past hundred years is kinda making my stomach turn. Bleh." He made a face then disappeared back into the kitchen.
She laughed to herself then decided that while he was busy she would slip in and check and see how Meryl was doing. She opened the door quietly and slipped inside.
"Hey Millie." A voice said, startling her.
"Meryl! You're awake!" She said practically leaping for joy as she ran over to the bed. Meryl held her left hand up defensively, halfway fearing that Millie would tackle her in an embrace. Millie showed a little self control and stopped when she was right at the edge of the bed.
"I'm so glad you're awake now. You have no idea how worried I was about you. I've been doing all of this work at this really nice hospital to get medicine for you. Everywhere else I went to wouldn't help me. It's called St. Richards. When you get better you should come around and see it sometime. Oh, I forgot that you can't, that's why I'm working there. Ha ha. What happened Meryl? Why did you get into a gun fight with that man? He seemed really polite too. And are you sure that you're ok?" All of this came out in one almighty rush, her voice hitching at the end as she became overwhelmed with emotion. Meryl was slightly taken aback by this sudden onslaught, but soon regained her wits and gave Millie her most reassuring smile.
"Of course I'm alright. It's going to take more than that to keep me down!" She said, giving her a thumbs up.
"Well thank goodness...hey, what's all this?" Millie asked, looking at the papers scattered around.
"Oh it's just the company's regulations manual. I've been looking over it for typos."
"But why?" Millie asked picking up one of the official looking papers.
"No real reason. I'm just trying to keep my mind busy, that's all. It helps take my focus off of this." She said, lightly touching her shoulder.
"It must hurt a whole lot. I'm sorry."
"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not your fault."
"But it's still awful. If only I had gone with you."
"Stop that." Meryl said a little more sharply than she intended. Millie looked at her questioningly, somewhat hurt. "I don't want you thinking like that Millie. If you spend all your time dwelling on the 'what ifs' then you...well...it only does more harm than good. Ok? I'm fine now, and let's leave it at that." She said, voice trailing away.
"Alright." Millie said, not convinced that her friend was ok at all. But she also knew that Meryl would never say anything about what was bothering her. Nobody was telling her anything! She hated being left in the dark. But she also knew how to respect other peoples privacy. All she could do was be ready and willing to listen whenever someone did need to talk.
A loud clatter from the kitchen followed by muffled words of frustration shook them from the temporary silence that had stolen over them. Millie shook her head and laughed a little.
"I suppose I should go help out, huh?"
"I would say relax because you're doing all the work at the moment, but I can smell the smoke from here. I'm just starting to get used to this place...I would hate to see it burnt down." Meryl said, turning back to the dull papers once more.
Even though she was exhausted Millie was doing her best to keep conversation going at dinner, but ended up doing most of the talking herself. She told them all about the hospital, what her duties were, all the nice people, and Mr. Johnson and his conspiracy theories. When that well had dried up she began talking about her hometown and her family. She had plenty of ammunition there. There was a lot of stores to be told when you had grown up in a house with ten other brothers and sisters. In fact, the people of her hometown had called them the Thompson litter.
Her audience was a polite one. They listened attentively, asked questions in all the right places, interjected at the right spots, but the atmosphere was really subdued. Millie began to get the feeling that they were only pretending to be entertained. Frustrated, but hiding it well, she began to ease off. She had to get up early in the morning anyway, and who knows, maybe they all would feel better once they had gotten more rest.
-L&P-
"Hey Millie?" Sam, the guy with the cigarette who she had talked to on her first visit here, stuck his head into the room and asked.
"Yeah? What's up?" She asked, plopping the dirty mop back into the bucket before looking up.
"Oh, if you're too busy doll I can always come back later." He said, retreating further behind the door.
"No, I just finished. What do you need help with?" She asked, wiping her forehead.
"I just need help moving some supplies up to the forth floor. That is, if you don't mind." He asked shyly. He had never been one to be intimidated by the fairer sex but this girl was almost inhuman. She never seemed to get tired and Sam swore that she could lift him up one handed without straining in the slightest, and giggle about it all the while. He actually found it kind of hot, in a 'look but don't touch' kinda way.
"Alrighty Sam, just let me dump this water and put the stuff away and I'll be right there."
"Ok. See ya in a few." He said, disappearing around the corner with a wave. She sighed as he left. She was tired but was determined to work her hardest today for two reasons. One, it was because it was her one week anniversary of working here. And two, it was because everyone expected her to leave. She wasn't working for medicines anymore; she was going solely based on her promise to help. And obviously it was a promise everyone expected her to break. Millie didn't know how the word got about for her real reasons for coming to St. Richards, but it seemed as if everyone knew...although it was kept hush hush. Well she was going to show them she was serious about keeping her promises and she was going to make darn sure that everyone here didn't forget it!
She had hoped that time and rest would resolve everything at home, but it only seemed to be getting weirder. It was just so darn quiet there! Nobody was saying anything when there was obviously something pressing to be said. Millie had tried to ignore it and act as if nothing was wrong, but the quietness of her two companions cowed her into silence as well. Well no more, she thought determinedly. Once she got home today she was going to sit down and have a talk with each of them to sort this problem out! She missed it how it used to be...all the joking and carrying on. It was really fun and she hated to see them act so sad.
Millie absently strolled on into the storage room where Sam was waiting, still off in thought.
"What's with the long face doll?" Sam asked, stacking up boxes of gauze and lifting them all at once.
"Oh its just a few friends of mine are having problems and I don't quiet know what to do about it." She said, gathering up several boxes as well.
"Oh yeah? What kind of problems?" He asked, leading the way out of the store room and headed for the stairs with Millie following close.
"That's the problem, I don't know. Neither of them will say anything. It's getting kinda depressing. And I already have enough on my mind."
"Well have they been fighting, having money problems, jealousy? Throw me a bone here."
"Maybe they have been fighting, I don't know. He told me that she had said that she didn't want to talk to him anymore, and I guess they both took it seriously. But I can't imagine why though. Its...so confusing and they won't talk to me. Although tonight I plan on forcing it out of them, one way or the other!" Sam laughed.
"And I don't doubt you could big girl, although go easy on them, it may just be a lovers spat."
"What? Oh, no...Hehe they're just friends, that's all."
"If you say so." Sam said, not entirely convinced.
On their third and final trip up to there, Millie asked Sam something that had been bothering her ever since coming up to this floor.
"Hey Sam? Why is it so quiet up here? There's hardly anyone around."
"Here at St. Richards we call this the ghost floor." He said in a dramatic and spooky voice. She laughed at him.
"How come?"
"Well, it's sad really. This is the floor where we place our most unfortunate patients. Those with no family, those that are terminal, and those we don't think will ever wake up again. Sorry for the uncalled for humor back there, it's just that ya either gotta laugh or cry, and personally I would rather laugh."
"I know someone just like you. And yes it is very sad. None of these people get visitors?"
"Well one or two. Some people here we don't even know who they are."
"What? They won't tell you?"
"Nah, they can't tell us."
"Sam! Millie! What are you two doing up here with those?" the head nurse from the first floor sharply called out, walking briskly up towards them. She was a humorless severe woman, with her hair always pulled back painfully tight. Millie had spoken with her a few times, but each time she ended up getting told off about something. Normally the woman would look right through her as if she didn't exist.
"Just moving these to the forth floor stock room mam." Sam said, cowed as well.
"They do not belong here." She said tersely. "When I had come back from my break the supply room on the ground floor was empty. I've been looking everywhere for the missing supplies and now it seems I have found my culprits." She said glairing at the two of them.
"Gee don't make it sound like were thieves or anything. I was told to move some of the extra supplies up here."
"Oh really? Under whose orders?"
"The directors." Sam said defiantly.
"Well see about that." She said then turned on her heel and left. Sam quickly handed over the two boxes he was carrying to Millie.
"Here, put these up for me. I gotta go make sure Mr. Fuller doesn't try and pin this one on me. Otherwise that harpy will lynch me." He said then quickly trotted away after her.
Millie stood there, confused by what had just transpired, then shrugged it off and went to the stock room. Once she had put the things away she was uncertain of what to do next. Should she wait for Sam to come back? Should she get back to work downstairs or was she in trouble too? Finally she decided to hang around on this floor. If she and Sam were in trouble she didn't want to irritate the scary lady further by making her have to hunt her down.
Several weary nurses walked down the hall, but other than that there was no activity. It really was starting to feel like a ghost floor. Millie thought back to what Sam had said, that most of the patients here didn't have any visitors. To her that was just heartbreakingly sad. To be sick and hurting and know that no one loved you enough to come see you. It was just awful. She pushed away from her spot on the wall, determined to try and spread some of her patented Millie sunshine (as they called it on the first floor) to those here.
The first door she came to held a frail old man. He was sleeping, his breath coming in long rattling gasps. Her heart went out to him, but she didn't want to disturb him, so she moved on. The next room she looked into she was greeted by multiple stares. A small family was sitting around the bedside of a young man, no more than fourteen, whose head was heavily bandaged. He appeared to be awake but he didn't move, didn't blink...
"Sorry." She whispered to the grieving family then slipped away. Hoping that she wouldn't disturb anybody else, she quietly opened the next door and peered inside.
"Oh my God..."
-L&P-
Sam took the stairs two at a time, fuming. That...that banshee had gotten her way after all. Now he and Millie would have to move all those boxes all the way back down to the first floor. Dammit, this floor needed supplies too, but nooooo, Ms. Queen of the Universe always had to have her way. He muttered and swore all the way back to the forth floor stock room to give Millie the bad news.
"Hey, sorry doll but we...hey...where'd you go?" He asked the empty room. Puzzled, he looked in the back but came up empty. He peered each way down the hall. No Millie. Curious, he walked down the hall to see if she had gone into any of the patients rooms. First...nope. Second...oops, excuse me. Third...
"Hey, there you are. What are you doing in here?" He said to her. She had her back to him, ignoring him as she closely observed the patient. "Hellooo Millie...are you still on this planet?" He said walking up to her. Abruptly she whirled around on him, causing him to take an instinctive step back. He took another once he got a good look at her. Tears were fiercely running down her face, but she wasn't making a sound. And she was deathly pale, as if she had seen a ghost.
Wordlessly, she strode towards him, picked him up by his collar, and carried him out into the hall. Sam pulled at the shirt digging into his neck. He was correct in assuming earlier that she could pick him up one handed, but he wished that he had also been right about the giggling part too. She sat him down but forced him back against the wall.
"How?" She choked out the single word.
"Millie...your kinda scaring me." He said, cowering.
"How!" She yelled this time.
"How what?" Sam asked, conversely his voice getting smaller.
"How is that man here? How?"
"It's a hospital..."
"He was dead! He told me he was dead!" She said, breaking down completely. Needless to say, Sam was thoroughly freaked out by now.
"Uhh..." He stupidly uttered, trying to think of anything to say to the crazy woman that had him cornered. Abruptly she took him up in a bear hug, his back popping in at least five places. She was laughing and sobbing at the same time.
"He...he didn't...leave me..."
Quite soon after she and Sam were sitting in the directors office with him and the head nurse from the forth floor (who was the polar opposite of the nurse from the first floor). Millie was still crying quiet freely and Sam was still scared into silence so it was up to Mr. Fuller, as always he thought, to get this conversation going.
"Let me get this straight...you know the man we currently have in four twelve?"
"Uh-huh." She said, lip quivering. "I...I...we thought he was...dead...so we left him. But how...how is he here? How is he?"
"Well our patient here had been brought in by the Calvary, along with numerous others." The nurse said kindly, holding her in a partial hug.
"The Calvary?"
"Yes. They had been investigating the disappearances down south. Your friend here was just one of the precious few that they actually found."
"But...but he was gone. I don't understand."
"The human body is an amazing thing young miss." The director began. "Granted, it is prone to many shortcomings and flaws, but it also has incredible strengths. We were built to survive. And survive this man did. Please don't feel guilty about moving on whenever you had thought he had passed. Although it is rare, it's not entirely unheard of for a mortician to be frightened out of his wits by someone miraculously waking up in the morgue."
"So he's going to be ok?" She asked hopefully. The nurse and the director exchanged looks. The head nurse spoke up next.
"Our patient here is alive, granted, but we don't know if he will ever recover or not."
"But what...what do you mean?" Millie cried, horrified.
"The injuries we can take care of, but we don't know the full extent of the damage up here." She said tapping the side of her head. "Other than a brief moment of consciousness and incoherent muttering when we had first received him, he has not shown a response to any stimuli. I'm sorry, I know this is hard to hear Millie, but we just don't know if he'll ever wake up again. Please try to understand..."
"I do. And I know that he will wake up too."
"Millie..."
"I know it! He's come too far and fought too hard to give up now! I'll be there to help him. After all, he promised me..."
"Aright Millie, aright." Mr. Fuller said, stopping her before she got worked up again. "Because we still need you help, and I'm sure that you will want to be near your friend, how about I transfer you to work up here in the fourth floor?"
"Yes sir! I would like that very much sir!"
-L&P-
Darn these sleeves, Meryl thought, yet again, as the bunched up sleeve slipped down her arm to get in the way. The worn sweat shirt was only a bazillion sizes too big for her. It kept threatening to slip completely off her shoulders and it hung midway down her thighs, practically skirt length. It made her think of years back when she used to try on her fathers clothes and parade around in them then get scolded for it. The memory of it brought back a smile. Well, her fathers shirt this was not, but it was big enough to make her feel that small again. She held her arm straight up into the air and the fabric fell down to bunch around her shoulder. Using her teeth and right hand, arm clumsily supported by a sling, she tried to roll the darn thing up so she could get back to cooking.
It was laundry day, and she had no other choice but to borrow some clothes. She had been in her night shirt for over a week so it desperately needed washed. Her only outfit had been carved up; she doubted that the stains would have ever come out anyway. And Millie's pj's had been covered in spaghetti blots. So it was either hide under the blankets for the rest of the day or borrow from him. It was a little awkward, but better than the alternative, she had been getting too restless anymore to stay in bed. That's why she was now working on getting a decent dinner put together, but in doing it one handed with a shirt that was about to drop off her any moment she had her work cut out for her.
Satisfied that the sleeve bunched up enough to stay put for at least another five minuets, she went back to slowly and crookedly chopping up vegetables for soup.
"I've got everything washed up and rinsed out. Watch your head when you go into the bathroom, everything's hanging up in there." Vash reported, stepping into the doorway.
"Thank you. Hopefully Millie will get here soon so her hospital clothes will be dry by morning. She told me that some nurse lady fussed at her for wearing her usual clothes to work once." She said quietly, not turning around.
"They should be...I'll hang them by that itty bitty window at the far wall. You know...the one where that cat keeps getting in at."
"Alright." She said, dumping what she had already chopped up into the pot. She went about her business, growing increasingly uncomfortable when he didn't leave.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked finally, breaking the long stretch of silence.
"Millie works all day and you've been cooking the past week, it's about time I did something around here too."
"Well, you've kinda had a good reason not to." He pointed out.
"It still doesn't make me feel any less worthless."
"Meryl...your not..."
"Here." She said, cutting him off and handing over the knife. "Peel the potatoes please. I don't think I can do it one handed. Especially with this hand. I'm defiantly not a lefty."
"Neither am I." He said, taking it and going over to the sink. She smirked a little at the bad joke, but that was it. Strike one, he thought with an inward sigh. The potato skins began to drop into the sink sliver by sliver.
If Millie thought that the mood of the apartment was depressing her, it was positively eating away at him. And the worst part of it was, he didn't know of anything that could ever make it right. What had happened at the federal building...no apology he could ever offer would change the fact that she was now on the wrong side of the law. And it was all his fault.
He sighed inwardly again. No wonder she didn't want to talk to him, that she tried her best to avoid him (an impressive feat considering they were both stuck in a cramped apartment). It really hurt. Three of them had been getting so close, and then this had to happen. Now her career and life had been ruined by that very closeness. She probably hated him for it but was too kind of a soul to tell him so. It seemed to be his fate; to ruin others lives whenever he drew near.
"Don't let Millie catch you doing that." A soft voice said from the other side of the kitchen, suspiring him. The knife slipped, nicking the faux skin of his left thumb. He would seal it up later.
"Huh? Doing what?" He asked, turning around.
"Brooding. She'll scold you for it, believe me...I know." She kidded halfheartedly. He smiled.
"I was not brooding...I was...reflecting. Yeah, that's it, reflecting."
"Call it whatever you want, she'll fuss at you all the same."
"Oh yeah? Just a 'stop that' fuss or a headlock fuss?"
"Hmm...Knowing Millie both probably." She said, dumping a few more ingredients into the pot. "Done yet?"
"Oh. No, sorry. I was taking my time. I'm on the last one." Common Vash, think of something to talk about...think, think!
"Sooo...uh, anything interesting on the satellite lately? I hear that they're holding the ninety third annual Thomas derby this week."
"Vash, that radio had been broken before we even got here." Strike two.
"Oh, yeah right." He tried to laugh it off. Quick, think of something before she gets mad or goes to leave. "I could probably fix it, you know, if you did want something on the radio. That way it wouldn't be so quiet around here. Not that your not good company or anything, no I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I...er, well you...um...do you want me to cut these up too?" He asked sheepishly, holding the peeled potatoes up. Strike three! You're Out!
"You don't have to do that you know. Try and make small talk. I'm fine. Really."
"No you're not." He said, all joking aside now. "You're not fine." He said, walking over and setting the vegetables down on the counter. She continued to stir the contents of the pot, refusing to look up at him. "In fact, you're about as far from fine as it gets." No response. "I want to tell you that I'm sorry. To say something, anything to try and fix things but I can't because I know that it will be nowhere near good enough."
"I told you not to worry about it, so please...just stop."
"How can I not worry about it Meryl? Just look at you, and it's my fault."
"No its not..."
"And there's nothing I can do to help, short of turning myself in and telling them it wasn't your choice."
"I said stop it!" She said sharply, finally turning to face him. Her gaze angry, his passive. They remained like that for several long moments until a voice rang out from the living room.
"I'm home!" Millie called out, followed by the loud thud of her dropping her gun. They looked from the doorway back to each other. Meryl was the first to break her gaze.
"Just cut those up and throw them in." She said, pointing to the potatoes. "It will be done in about thirty minuets." Then she turned and walked out the door. He watched as she left, making no move to finish the meal. Millie's amused squeal of 'That looks like a poofy dress on you!' rang out from the living room. He didn't hear Meryl's reply, if she had even answered at all. He looked down to the small cut on his thumb.
"What are you going to do now?" He quietly asked himself.
-L&P-
"I've got something to ask you. I know you won't want to talk about it but I need to know. Please..." Millie began, her food largely untouched. They were all sitting in the living room, the girls piled on the couch and Vash chivalrously taking the uncomfortable little crate.
"What is it Millie?" He asked her setting his bowl down, an uneasy feeling setting in.
"I need to know what happened back at Tonim. What happened to him?"
"Millie, why are you asking about this now?" Meryl asked.
"Because...I just need to know. Please tell me." She pleaded. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. After a long moment, he began.
"There were two of them. One was a sniper outside of town and the other I never caught sight of. I went for the sniper while Wolfwood took the one that was still in town. I came back first. I was so tore up about having someone else die on me that I didn't notice that he had been injured. Only after he left did I see the blood." He stopped, uncomfortable with the unexpected conversation. Millie's silence urged him onward. "I followed the trail to the church, but I hesitated to go inside. I didn't want to see what I knew I would find. But eventually...I went in. He had gone to kneel at the alter, held up only by his cross..." he trailed off, voice breaking. He looked away to the floor, tears beginning to flow.
"What happened next?" Millie asked, silently crying as well.
"I went up to him, but he was already gone. He wasn't breathing, he...I would have done something more, would have given him a decent place to rest, but I...I couldn't take the sight of him like that any more. I took his gun and laid him at the alter. It seemed fitting...for a priest. Millie I'm sorry I couldn't save him..." He said, and then buried his face in his hands. Millie was over there in an instant, hugging him.
"You would have if you could've. I know. So please don't be so hard on yourself, he would tell you the same thing. I know he would. I'm sorry for asking you such a hard thing, but I had to know so thank you. I've...I've got to go wash up now...it's been a long day." She said, wiping the tears away and leaving for the bathroom as new ones took their place. She closed the door quickly behind her without a look back. Millie wanted to tell him the truth, anything to keep him from being so sad, but she couldn't let him know. Not yet. She wanted Nicholas to come and tell them himself. She had tried to get him to wake up all day, but he remained unconscious. But that didn't shake her ironclad unyielding faith that he would wake up, and soon. He had survived, that in itself was a miracle. And everything God does is for a reason. It would make no sense for him to be alive but to never live again. She would have to keep believing that he would be ok and be there for him.
But this left her with a dilemma. The union case, so she had heard, would be settled in two days. That meant the hospital would be restaffed and she would be free from her promise. How would she continue to stay by his side without lying to her friends? And Vash had to get back to New Oregon to take care of Knives. She didn't know what to do; all she knew was that it didn't feel right to tell them about Wolfwood, that it was his place to do so. She would just have to take it one day at a time and rely on her heart to tell her what to do. It had never let her down before, so she would continue to keep her faith in it.
It was these very thoughts that got her through the long night that night and gave her an extra something in her step that very morning. She woke up without the least bit of groggy hesitation that usually plagued her when she woke. She got ready quickly and quietly instead of fumbling around like she typically did. Meryl never made a sound from the bed, and Vash never stirred from his spot in the living room floor (Millie took the couch. Meryl had offered to share the bed but Millie was terrified of rolling over and hitting Meryl in her sleep). She opted to skip out on breakfast this morning and was out the door before the second sun had risen.
It was a bright and beautiful Friday morning. People were out and about already and the air had a certain freshness that it had been lacking for the past few weeks. That freshness was assurance. Assurance that everything would soon be alright and joy just emanated from that knowledge. She couldn't spread that knowledge, not yet, but she could take other little steps to help spread some of that happiness. This included greeting and smiling at everyone she passed by. And because she didn't have to be in at the hospital until this evening, she decided to do a little shopping.
She wasn't too sure about what all Vash would have liked so she went with the sure-fire default that she knew he would want: donuts. Meryl's gift was one of necessity as well as friendship: new clothes. She didn't have any luck finding one like the outfit Meryl had custom made back in December, so she went for the next best thing: a white button up long sleeved blouse with a short white skirt and shoes to match. Millie was quiet pleased with what she had picked out although she had been accused of having no fashion sense on more that one occasion. She didn't quite see why; her clothes fit properly and was always neatly pressed. Oh well.
She walked along the sidewalk, bags in hand, whistling some song that she had long ago forgotten the name to. She was halfway considering buying something for herself as long as it didn't cost too much, but she couldn't for the life of her think of what she wanted. She looked in through all the shop windows, but saw nothing that appealed to her. She was halfway tempted to get an adorable black cat stuffy doll, but decided to pass on it. Really, she admitted to herself, all she wanted was to deliver her gifts to see her friends smile, and then get back to where he was resting. That was what she was wanting...to see him again. To watch the rise and fall of his chest to know that he was, without a doubt, alive.
She was about to turn and leave the chain of stores when a flyer on one of the windows caught her eye. The very same flyer in coarse yellow paper had been hung up in every other store but she had been too busy shopping to read them. But this time she spared a glance at one, and a familiar name caught her eye.
-L&P-
The moment Millie had left the apartment Vash climbed up on the couch. It was uncomfortable, but the floor was worse. It would still be another hour or so until Meryl would stir, but until then he wanted to try and catch a few more z's. He had just drifted off when the front door unlocked and Millie stepped back in. He grumbled a little bit, then gathered up his blanket to move back over to the floor.
"Do you know if Meryl is up? I need to talk with her about something." Millie asked him.
"Urmuwah hum." He said into the pillow and pulled the covers over his head. He pulled them back down again then sat up. "What's that? It smells good."
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Here I got these for you." She said reaching into her shopping bag and pulled out the pack of donuts. He was up and eating before she even had a chance to pull her hand away.
"Mank wo mo mufh! Ifs enn orever since I've had some orf fees!" He said, finishing one and immediately starting on another. Millie couldn't help but laugh. She turned to look as the bedroom door opened.
"What's going on in here?" Meryl asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "Millie, what are you doing back so early?"
"Oh, I didn't have to be there for a while so I went out. And I...I got you something that I hope you will like...and I found something that I know you won't." She said uncomfortably, shuffling her feet.
"Huh?"
"Uh, sit down. I want to give you what I hope you will like first." Meryl went over and sat down by Vash, who was eating a little more quietly, his curiosity caught as well. "Ok. Since I'm the one who ruined your old clothes, it's only fair that I got you some new ones." Millie announced, holding out the bag for Meryl. She took it, some of the sleepy confusion still in her eyes. She pulled out the new white clothes, they were just her size. The buttons of the blouse had a silvery mother of pearl sheen to them.
"Millie, thank you. They're beautiful, but you didn't have to."
"What else were you going to wear? Besides, I think they'll suit you."
"I think so too. Thank you Millie." She said folding them up neatly and placing them back inside of the bag. "Now what about this thing that you know I wouldn't like. What is it?"
"Well, I...uh..." She stammered, fidgeting about.
"Common, let us see. I want to know too." Vash said, setting the empty snack box aside (it had been a sixteen pack!). Millie sighed deeply, not liking where this might go, and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a little square of folded coarse paper and handed it to Meryl. Frowning, she unfolded it and took a look. After just a partial glance at it she tried to close the paper so that Vash wouldn't see. But he had already seen enough and was pulling it out of her hands. She tensed as he opened it and read the poster in its entirety. WANTED. Alive: Meryl Stryfe. $$20,000,000. Wanted for Assault, Theft, Obstruction of Justice, And Wanted In Connection With Outlaw Vash The Stampede. Physical Description...He folded it shut and looked away. Meryl took it back and read it over herself.
"I saw it in a window while I was out. I figured it would be best to show you."
"Twenty million. Not too bad..." Meryl muttered. "Nowhere near sixty billion, but still...Hey! I do not weigh that much! Whoever they got their information from is sadly mistaken." She said loftily, folding the poster up and tossing it down into the bag. She 'humpfed' and stood up. "Thank you Millie for bringing that to me. It'll go good in a scrap book. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go try these on now."
"How can you be so casual about this?" Vash asked quietly, looking up at her. "How can you stand there and act like it's nothing at all?"
"You act like it's nothing all the time. Why can't I do the same?" She said turning back to face him.
"Meryl, you don't understand..."
"No, maybe not." She cut him off. "But I knew what I was doing then, and I know what you're doing now. This was my decision. Mine. And I'm not going to have you trying to take responsibility for my actions. Besides, we all knew that this was going to happen and that little piece of paper changes nothing."
"Meryl it changes everything. That little piece of paper means that countless people on this planet are going to be after you now. Why can't you see that?" He said standing, growing increasingly upset by the second. "How can you act like it's nothing and joke about it? Your life..."
"You act like it's nothing." She said marching right up to him.
"Meryl..."
"You joke around." She said, punctuating this by poking him in the chest. "This, coming from the man who has seen over a hundred and thirty years of heartbreak that can still manage to joke around and play? How come you can act like it's nothing and I can't? How come only you can get into deep trouble trying to help another out but I can't? I am not a child! And you are a hypocrite! Why...why..." Her voice cracked and gave way. She turned around and crossed her arms, furious that she couldn't get out what she was trying to express.
"I can because I have nothing left to lose. But you had everything to lose. Your job, your safety, your home...I didn't want you to come to this because I didn't want you to have to live like me, to...to look like me, to want love and peace but never be able to have them. And I joke around because it's either laugh or cry, and I..." His voice broke much like hers had. She couldn't take any more. She ran from the room, locking the bedroom door behind her and ducking away in the bathroom for good measure.
Meryl knew that she had screwed up, and there was no way she could fix it either. In trying to help him she had only made it so much worse. He was in there, right now, crying because of her. For her. She couldn't fix this problem, but she could make sure that she didn't make any more for him.
-L&P-
Millie went about her work halfheartedly. The nurses of this floor didn't know her all that well, so they just left her be. She missed her friends down on the first floor. She couldn't exactly tell them all her problems but a happy smiling face would have helped. But no...she was on the ghost floor now, with only the unfortunate and the dying to keep her company. The dusty stone floor began to blur as tears began to well up in her eyes. Calmly she set her broom aside in an out of the way corner, made her way to room four twelve, and leaned heavily on the edge of the bed crying her eyes out into the worn linens.
She tried to keep quiet for his sake but it seemed the more she tried the harder the tears wanted to come out. She clenched at the sheets, knuckles turning white through the strain. Softly a hand rested on top of her head.
"Shh now...no more..." A faint dry voice said. She froze instantly, all crying forgotten. She slowly sat up to see a pair of weathered grey eyes crinkling slightly at her in a smile. "Hey there big girl..."
"...You're...really awake...I thought you were gone and then I found you again, then..."She whispered. Words were failing her. He was looking at her, he was talking, he was going to be alright...
"I was gone...but...thank God for mercy..." He trailed off, closing his eyes again. She was frightened for a moment but he continued to speak. "I've waited so long, for my second chance...my chance to start over. But I was...Now though..." He looked back at her, seeming to gain strength from the words. "... Now I can. I can do things right this time...because I've been given my second chance...I've been redeemed..."
She burst out into renewed tears, of joy this time. She wanted to take him up into an embrace and never let him go, but she settled for leaning forward and giving him a small kiss on the forehead. He caught her hand as she sat down and held onto it tightly, a mere shadow of his former strength but with the firmness of one who was determined to hang on, to live.
He was exhausted and couldn't say much. She was speechless and couldn't find any words to say. But still everything that needed to be conveyed was known, and it was all said in the silence.
A nurse hunting for her nearly shrieked in surprise when she saw that the patient that they all had thought was lost was now awake. A doctor was called in immediately and after a quick examination Wolfwood was immediately moved away from the ghost floor to the recovery floor, and Millie was there with him every step of the way. He had fallen asleep for a few hours after that, but woke up again later in the evening. He was more alert than earlier that morning, but still lacked the strength to even sit up. Considering the condition that everyone had thought he was in, he was doing quiet well. Millie had practically interrogated the doctor and the nurses about his condition, his stay here, and most importantly, when would he be well enough to walk out. Their understanding had come through in the way that they would smile, having to deal with parents/spouses/and children exactly like her. None of their answers were definite, except they all hinged on the fact that it was up to him. They quickly added, upon seeing her unsatisfied glare, that with support he would be on his way even faster. He watched her, amused, as she went through this with every new face. She sat down with a huff then immediately flipped back over to smiles when she looked at him.
"In that big of a hurry to get me out of here? I think a vacation would be nice for once."
"I just hate seeing you hurt and in the hospital, it makes me so sad."
"Better than in the ground..."
"Yes. And I want to take you to see Vash and Meryl. They still don't know that you're here and alive."
"Don't know...why?"
"I was waiting until you could tell them yourselves, so they really will believe that you're ok."
"Why don't you tell them anyway? That way you can say 'I told you so' when they don't believe you and you can bring them here to prove it."
"Really? You want me to?"
"Sure. And besides, I have a thing or two to say to needle noggin about nearly getting himself killed by Knives."
"Ok! Wait...how do you know about that?" Wolfwood chuckled weakly at her.
"I'll tell you later...I don't have the energy to now. In fact, I think I would like to sleep now..."
"Well you go ahead." She said, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek, getting nothing but scruff. "I'll go tell them the good news" She said, but he had already drifted off.
Millie practically ran all the way home. She was so excited and happy she was starting to wonder if her heart could take it. Wait 'till they heard! She could just see their faces now. Millie wondered if they would believe her or not. But then again it didn't matter. She ran up the apartment stairs two, no, three at a time. Luckily the front door was unlocked because she just didn't have the time to fool with something as trivial as keys and locks. This was important!
"I'm Back! And I have something wonderful to tell you all!" She said, bursting in the front door. The living room was empty, and a quick glance to the kitchen said it was empty as well. A few bags of groceries sat in there, Vash had already done the shopping for her. She ran to the bedroom and threw the door open. "Guys, I have great news...hey...what's wrong?" She asked, all the joy draining out of her to be replaced by worry.
Vash was sitting alone on the edge of the bed, his elbows propped up on his knees, and his face hidden in his hands. He was too quiet, too still, for Millie's liking. Lying beside him on the bed was a rumpled up sheet of yellowed paper. A second glance around the room revealed to her that they were the only ones in it.
"Vash, what's wrong? Where's Meryl?" She asked, worry turning to fear. Wordlessly, and without looking up, he handed her the paper then hid his face in his hands once more. Millie looked down at the paper; it was the wanted poster. Slightly confused, she turned it over. There on the back, written in her brisk business-like handwriting, was a note from Meryl.
By the time that one of you finds this I'll be well on my way out of January. I once received a piece of wisdom from someone that changed my life; I'm going back there to see if they have anything to offer me now that will help me find my way. I'm not saying where this place is because I don't want to be followed...and because I'm not coming back. I guess I have some explaining to do huh? Especially to you Millie, so I'll start with you first.
I suppose that you will see this as a betrayal of your trust—leaving without you. But I have lead you into too many dangerous situations, for both professional and selfish reasons, to continue to do so any longer. I've never asked you to come with me, I've just always took it for granted that you would always be there, and I've never thanked you for it. I've kept a lot of things hidden from you, when you've always spoken with me honestly. And I don't even want to go into the way I behaved when you were right and I was wrong. I guess I'm trying to say is that you were the best of friends that I could have ever have asked for...and one that I never really deserved. For safety's sake, please don't mention me to anyone. And it would be smart if you went under a pseudonym for a while as well. And if, which I highly doubt, worse does come to worse—just tell them the truth...that I did it on my own and you weren't involved. That's all I can think of for now to tell you. I'm sure that more will come to me later, but by then it will be too late. So, take care.
Vash...I don't even know where to start with you. Nothing can ever be easy when it comes to you, can it? That was uncalled for, I'm sorry. I suppose that is as good a place to start as any, saying I'm sorry, I certainly have enough reasons to. I suppose what is bothering me the most is what happened back at L.R... If only I had just listened to you for once, just once, and stayed away then maybe what happened might have not taken place. But I didn't, and now the thought 'if only' is tormenting me for it. You think that I would have learned after Jacquelyn, or nearly getting caught up in Augusta (thanks again Millie) that I would learn, but no—and I now have a scar to prove it too. I'm leaving now so I can do what you've wanted me to from nearly the first time we met—to stay away. I can see you jumping to all the wrong conclusions now so please, let me set the record straight. I don't hate you—I couldn't even if I tried. As far as the gunshot, Bernardelli, and being wanted goes...strangely enough I couldn't give a damn. Is that weird of me? I don't know, but then again I don't really care. What I do care about though is that I'm only getting in your way. I'm like a cat underfoot, wanting attention but just coming off as a pest. God knows I don't want to leave, but I love you too much to have you continue to suffer on my account. What happened at the federal building...I just wanted to help out for once, to be needed by you, but I suppose the mess that I made knocked some sense into me. You don't need me and no amount of following you around is ever going to change that fact. So this time...I'm the one that's leaving—so you don't have to. I'll never regret knowing you. I can only pray you'll think the same of me. And don't worry about me, ok? I'll be fine. And please try to keep yourself out of trouble and in one piece for once. This is about all I can say. If I don't leave now then I never will. Goodbye.
Meryl
P.s—Millie, give my love to your family. And don't forget to clean your gun regularly.
Vash...go take care of Knives.
A/n: I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my fic. I have gotten more hits than I ever expected. But as for reviews... dont make me beg people, please. If anyone disagrees with me about bringing a certian chain smoker back im sorry, but thats how I see it happening. And if this explination isn't good enough for you, Knives gives another reasion why he lived (although thats later on). Well, thats it for me. Later.