Dark: It's sad, very sad, when one doesn't even have the time to sleep, let alone write. Hope this one is as good as the others. Please enjoy and don't forget to review!
Also, I'd like to thank megume for her reviews, ideas and support. Sankyu!
"…" is speech.
Italics is thoughts.
: … : is telepathic speaking.
Key-word: Them.
Rating: T
Genre: Drama.
Pairing(s): Suggestion of VashxMeryl, but not really.
Verse: Anime.
Warnings: Sprinkles of spoilers here and there.
Summary: She really shouldn't keep on forgetting about Milly. It wouldn't do her any good. Them. Her. No, them.
ºººººº Left Behind ºººººº
It was something she had admitted to herself long ago.
Nevertheless, that never stopped the fact from making it hurt less.
The way he kept going. And leaving her. Her and Milly, actually, let's not forget her sweet partner.
In the beginning, he never even truly acknowledged the fact that yes, he was indeed the infamous Vash the Stampede, making their work harder than it already was.
Which, in all honesty, made her feel both more comfortable and more uncomfortable later on, no matter how much of a contradiction that may be.
Comfortable, because maybe, just maybe, it could be better that he was like that, not very attached to them and them not that attached to him and it would hurt less when she had to let him go.
Uncomfortable, because that simply reminded her of just how thoughtful the damned man actually was, never wanting to put anyone – whoever it was, human, plant, animal or even his maniacal brother – in any kind of danger.
Because, no matter how much he pushed her – them, the rational part of her mind corrected her, her and Milly – away, she would push back. Perhaps her Derringers weren't nearly as powerful as his .45, but hell if she would let that reflect in her own actions, for she was keen on pushing back even harder and harsher the more others pushed her.
So really, she felt more uncomfortable than comfortable with the whole ordeal, but it mattered not, the issue was still there and that wasn't it.
Glaring at her, accusing her of her unprofessional behaviour, of her attachment to their job's subject…
Though, no matter how grand this thing, this dilemma, was, how she approached it and considered it, well, it wouldn't go away and solve itself.
It had happened there, right at the beginning, as already said.
It had happened once again, later on (much later on), again subtly on Vash's part as he tried to lose her, and her inseparable friend from his side, yet it didn't work.
Then, that time, that forceful and scary time had came and went and this time, Meryl found herself a little scared of this side of the Stampede's. It felt as if she did not know him, his gentle ways and too-soft-for-his-own-good heart suddenly clouded from her gaze, leaving behind a hazy reality where the words "Stay back!" just echoed over and over and over like a mantra that refused to pause.
It seemed like the calm before the storm had passed and the typhoon took over.
But, like all typhoons and other natural disasters (that was what he really was, wasn't it?), it didn't actually take too long and soon, he was back under her watchful eye, even if that did a very little difference.
And there they were now.
After Wolfwood's death, Legato's death, his recovery… he was now up and refreshed, he had eaten and was fit enough to walk, so Milly said it was time for him to go if he really had to go and that they, she and sempai, would follow right after.
The gunslinger had merely smiled at that, a somewhat mysterious smile (and a guilty, sad smile, for seeing Milly and not seeing the priest was really ruining his force of will), nodded at her and opened the door.
Beside which Meryl stood.
For an observer, perhaps they had sounded perfectly casual with their words, little more than acquaintances really.
But it was only because they both were careful with where their eyes strayed.
Both were aware that, as soon as their hues met, it would be the end.
(Because, contrary to Milly, she knew she would not be able to follow him this time. She wanted to. God knew how much she wanted to, but she knew he'd never let her, not this time.)
She would cry. She would cry and hit him like she so wanted and wished to do, tell him about her worries and that he may not return for them, may leave her (them, it was them, not her, silly Meryl, telling him that on the singular!) there for good and she seriously did not want to face that.
He would not leave. He would not leave; instead he would drop his bag, drop the Punisher, let it fall onto the sand carelessly, allow his knees to make harsh contact with the wooden floor and just wrap both arms around her tiny waist, holding her there to him, close, closer still, and never let go.
But it wasn't easy. It could never be that easy.
So, he'd leave her again. Alone. Without him. No. Not alone. With Milly.
And she'd understand. Eventually.
Owari
Vocabulary:
Owari: The end.
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