Spring break is almost here, offering me a brief respite from the constant worries of class-work, lectures, and discussions.  But before that, a billion mid-terms and stuff, so I'll just pretend it's already break.  That's an effective studying method.  Finally, a time for me to relax and write the newest chapter of my precious Trigun story!  I must say, I really like this fic.  It's letting me experiment with voice and perspective as well as allowing me to delve into the mind of my hero, Vash!  I only hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 3

*****

"It's just you and me,

On my island of hope

A breath between us could be miles

Let me surround you

My sea to your shore

Let me be the calm you seek

And every time I'm close to you

There's too much I can't say"

--Sarah McLachlan, "I Love You"

I was always a very constant woman.  I had loyalties, formed by my own experiences and knowledge.  Those loyalties were a constant thing, nearly unchangeable unless by irrefutable evidence that my loyalties were misplaced.  Even then, I would go to great pains to verify that I was now making the correct decision.  Besides that, I had my beliefs, also very constant and unwavering, based on my own decisions in life.  And of course, I had my mundane routines.  These may seem to be the least important details of my constancy, but they were something that I clung to.  Every day, I would wake up the same way, go about my business as I always had until the time came to go back to bed in the same fashion as I always did, guaranteeing another day of mundane comforts, of the constancy and the reassuring knowledge of being able to say exactly what you would be doing and when, day in and day out.  Some may find this redundant lifestyle boring, but in a world full of danger and the constant dynamic of changing lives, it was a small comfort that I held very dear.  And so I went on, continuing my predictable life with only a few minor changes over time.  Even Vash's presence in my home was a small kink that I easily smoothed over, integrating him into my daily schedule.  But nonetheless, I forgot that while I can dictate my own actions, Vash is a wild card, a variable.

I was reminded of this when I woke up one Saturday morning, not in my bed alone, but on the couch, with his reasonably larger form spooning behind me as we both lay together, in a way that was decidedly less than routine.  But what happens when life changes in this way?  You work your whole life to tune your schedule, like complicated machinery, until you have it running consistently and without error.  Then one day, life throws a wrench in the works.  And when your routine crumbles down around you, refusing to work as it always has, what are you to do?  Maybe the best thing to do is pick up the wrench and start over.

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I woke up with the slow warmth that only a relaxed weekend can offer.  From the first flutter of consciousness, I realized that something was out of sorts, but it did not seem dangerous or troubling.  I could feel a warm body nearly enveloping me in a gentle embrace, the length of his body smoothed flush against my own, not pressing, but determined to stay close.  I knew who it was at once, not only from the scattered memories that reminded me vaguely of the night before, but also from the scent that filled my world.  It smelled of leather and my own shampoo, as well as a vague, slightly cinnamon-like scent that was entirely Vash.  It had never held a trace of danger for me, even when I barely knew him as anything more than a bumbling excuse for a dangerous outlaw.  Vash was something warm and accepting, full of love for everyone, and childishly naïve while maintaining a hidden wisdom that only someone who'd lived longer than any human could lay claim to.  And now, he was something of a giant teddy bear.  Opening my eyes lazily, I looked down to see that we were indeed still on the couch, both of us barely fitting on the narrow piece of furniture.  The blanket I'd been huddled in the night before was now draped over Vash as well as myself, his arms laced firmly around my waist.  I could feel his breath coming in short, soft puffs in my dark head of hair, so I wriggled a bit in an effort to face him, hoping to glimpse the adorable face he wore only in his sleep.

However, still asleep but intent on keeping the extra warmth he'd found himself, Vash's arms tightened as I moved.  Obviously, he thought I meant to get away from him, and he was putting up a fight to keep me there.  His grip wasn't inescapable in the least, but it was obvious he didn't want me to leave, and I was of the same mind.  Frankly, the man was warm and soft and I felt comfortable and happy.  Why would I get up?  So I gave up my effort to catch a glimpse of him, instead letting my eyes fall closed as I snuggled back against him.  His grip tightened momentarily, reasserting his desire for me to stay as he nuzzled my neck, his hair tickling the side of my face.  After a moment, he let the firmness of his grip dissipate, content to know that I wouldn't get up just yet.

"Morning," he greeted me after a bit.  My eyes widened considerably as I realized that he was actually awake.  "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I admitted, not bothering to act upset.  "How long have you been awake?" I wriggled around, finally able to face him.

"Not too long." He claimed.  At my doubtful look, he laughed.  "Okay, about an hour.  I was going to get up and fix breakfast, but I didn't want to wake you up." He admitted sheepishly.  "You want me to get started?"

"No, I'm fine." I answered.  It was clear that my response startled him, which seemed strange to me.  But then, when you care so deeply for another person for long enough, you start to forget that you've never told them how you feel.  That was the case with Vash and I.  I don't know when I fell in love with the man, but it was something I didn't really realize until after the Legato incident.  Seeing him so broken, so much in pain, hurt me deeply.  As I sat up each night, nursing him back to health, sewing his complicated jacket back into it's former condition, I realized that this strange, silly, man had somehow lodged himself irreplaceably in my heart.  I think that all that time I knew that when I finished fixing him, his wounds, his mind, his jacket, he'd leave soon after.  But I had hoped that when he came back, I'd be able to tell him all of my feelings.  I'd let him go, however, and this was a blessing, having him returned to me.  I knew that I loved him as much as I did before, if not more.  I was receiving a second chance.  The only question was whether or not I'd be able to tell him this time…

"Meryl, I'm sorry." Vash's words interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up, capturing his turquoise eyes with my own grey orbs.

"Sorry?" I asked, not understanding what he was apologizing for.  "Why are you sorry?"

"I just…well, I haven't been very fair with you." He smiled softly, brushing a stray black lock away from my cheek.  "You've been so patient all this time…"  Questioningly, I cocked my head to one side, but then I got a sudden feeling.  It was a clenching in my gut, a whirring buzz in my head, a faint numbness that swept over me and left as quickly as it came, leaving me with a new awareness of my surroundings.  I could feel the subtle pull of Vash's grip, his fingers pressing softly into my back, the loop of his arm under the curve of my waist, the thump of his heart in time with my own, the constant rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  It was wonderful, it was terrible, it was intoxicating.  Suddenly, all thoughts fled my mind.  All I could think of was Vash, the way his mouth was slightly open, not as though he were gaping, but as though his lips refused to be pressed together, a small line between them, through which I could catch the faintest gleam of his teeth.  I forgot to breathe; I forgot how to move, to talk, and to blink.  I just stared, lost in the blue green pools that so often fascinated me.  What exactly would one call that color?  Teal, turquoise, blue-green?  None of them really fit.  They were just Vash's eyes, mysterious and bright as their owner.

"Meryl, when I'm ready, I swear I'll tell you." Vash's voice broke the spell, solemn and serious.  "I don't like hiding things from you, but you have to understand…what I did…what happened…"

"Vash, no matter what it was, I won't care." I protested, trying to shove down the feeling of disappointment.  Why hadn't he kissed me?  I'd been so sure that he would…

"What do you mean?" he asked, his blond brows furrowing in question.

"I mean…I don't want you to leave…and no matter what…I mean…" I struggled with the words.  Why couldn't I just spit it out?  And why was I suddenly feeling the need to hide my face in his chest?  Oh well, maybe if he couldn't see me, I'd be able to spit it out.  "I mean…I want you to know…I really care about you…um, a lot."  Wow, how eloquent could I get?  Apparently, my thought process was not fully recovered from the near-kiss-experience.  "I just…um, want you to stay here."

"What?" Vash moved slightly, obviously having a problem hearing my voice when it was muffled by his shirt.  "I didn't catch all of that, I'm sorry."

"I meant to say…" I pulled back and looked him in the eyes.  Big mistake.  Apparently, I'd been mistaken before about my inability to think properly.  That was nothing next to the utter lack of brain activity brought on by his intense stare.  All I could think of at that moment was that Vash's eyes were pretty.  Intelligence abounds, right when you need it most.  "I meant to say…" I tried again, breaking the gaze so that maybe I could think.  I began fumbling with a fold of afghan, picking at the fraying old bits of yarn.  "I meant…um…that I…umm…"

"Meryl?" Vash lifted my chin with one hand, looking a bit concerned.  Of course, I chose that moment to blush a color that roughly would have matched his old jacket.  How perfect.  "Are you feeling okay?  You look a bit…um…feverish."

"No…I'm fine." I felt like my chest was going to explode, my brain was going to implode, and my limbs fall off simultaneously, but other than that, I was perfectly fine.  Oh, and I was apparently trying for the world's most inarticulate female award.  I was winning.

"Maybe you need some breakfast, you think?" Vash smiled at the thought, sitting up and letting go of me in the process before climbing off the couch.  Okay, it seemed that Operation: One Coherent Sentence Might Be Nice was an utter failure.  And now he was going to make breakfast?  Right when I had him where I wanted him and I let him go again!  What was wrong with me?

"Um, sure." I felt a bit shaky, standing up and going toward the bathroom.  Maybe I'd feel better after a shower.  Maybe I'd be able to tell him then.  Yeah, and maybe he'd suddenly decide he hated donuts.  Basically, things weren't going well.

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After long and careful deliberation, I finally came up with a plan to tell Vash how I felt about him.  It was an intensive training program that I'd come up with all by myself, and I was convinced that it would be completely effective.  The problem was obviously that I wasn't confident enough to speak, much less think of what to say.  Therefore, I decided that I would work my way up to a full-blown confession in steps.  First, I would practice in front of my mirror, making sure I didn't look silly or say anything that sounded too trite.  This actually took me about three weeks before I was satisfied.  I wished that I had Millie to help me out, but she'd been transferred to a different company so that she could move when her family left town.  I could still hear her in my mind sometimes, telling me what to do, how best to proceed, but she seemed to have no opinions on the current issue.  Some help she was.

After I finished with the mirror, I would stay up late every night reciting the words I'd decided upon to my old teddy bear.  Yes, I owned a teddy bear.  Some might think me too serious and adult for such a thing, but what can I say?  We all have our dependencies, our security blankets.  Absolutely no one knew about him, of course.  Not even Vash, as far as I knew.

After about six weeks, I seemed to be ready to move on to the final step.  Now, you may think I'm a bit of a coward when I explain it to you, but you must understand how hard it all was.  You see, my plan was to tell him while he was asleep.  That way he couldn't look at me, and I wouldn't forget what I was saying.  Also, if he turned me down, he'd think it was a dream and I could pretend it never happened.  So all in all, it was perfect.

So why couldn't I open my bedroom door?

To get to Vash, I had to leave my bedroom.  To do that, I had to open the door.  I seemed to be stuck, though.  My hand was on the doorknob, and I couldn't seem to make it work right.  Maybe I'd just go to bed and try again the next night…no!  I had to do this now!  Why was this so difficult?  He'd be asleep, anyway.  Maybe he wouldn't even hear me.  Yes, that sounded safe enough.  Taking a deep breath, I swept out of my room and into the living room where Vash was asleep on the couch.  I stood over him silently, handfuls of my white silk nightgown squeezed into two tightly clenched fists.  Now, to open my mouth.  Maybe then I could say something to him.

"Vash," it came out as a whisper, barely audible, but that was just fine with me.  I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.  "I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a long time.  Ever since before…when you got hurt so bad…I realized that I cared about you…um…a lot…" Wait, that wasn't what I'd planned to say.  What was happening to my eloquence?  "I mean, I wanted for you and me…um…gods, I can't do this!" I huffed, throwing up my hands and turning to leave.  But something caught me around the wrist.  I gasped in alarm.  Seemed that Vash was awake…

"No, you were doing fine." His voice was soft, gentle.  I wanted to melt through the floorboards and disappear.  At least he couldn't see me blushing in the dark.  "If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you mine."

"You first." I insisted.  Maybe it would be easier to talk knowing that he'd told me everything, given me all his trust.

"Oh…okay." I could hear him gulp nervously.  Suddenly, he pulled me to him, causing me to fall on the couch next to him, his arms wrapped around my waist.  "Just…if you hear it…"

"I won't make you leave." I assured him, trying not to focus on how warm he felt, how comfortable I was.

"I…after you girls left." Vash began, his head already pressed into my shoulder.  I had the feeling he'd be crying pretty soon, and I almost told him not to tell me if it was going to hurt.  But it hurt him all the time.  I could see it, even when he tried to hide it from me.  "I did just like I'd told you I would.  I took Knives to a small town, and we lived there together.  I started to help him heal…from our fight." Vash paused.  "One morning, I was leaving for a job I'd gotten at a nearby bar, and I waved to Knives and left.  I…I was thinking about how…how he seemed to understand things now.  He wasn't…dangerous anymore.  It made me sure that anyone…could be good, if you tried your hardest to make them see…" Vash let out a low sob, and I knew that whatever it was that'd been bothering him, I was about to find out.

"That day, I got home…and I…I heard some noises in the other room.  I thought…maybe Knives is doing his workout?  So I didn't really worry, and I started on dinner.  But then…I heard…this scream…like…like…gods, Meryl…" he stopped, sobbing again.  "I went…to the room, worried…what could it be?  And he was in there…with…oh gods…he had three of the local kids…two boys and a girl…gods…he had them strung up…strung up…on hooks!  On meat hooks!  The girl was still alive…but when I came in he'd just…oh, it was disgusting…Meryl, he skinned them." Vash was sobbing brokenly, and I was too shocked to do anything but hold him.  "I…just…he had the knife and…he was licking it!  Gods, just when I thought…and he laughed at me…said I was so naïve, saving him.  And I couldn't think, Meryl.  You have to know…I shot him.  I shot him in the head.  I killed him, Meryl.  My brother.  I killed him…"  Vash was inaudible after that, sobbing into my shoulder, holding me tightly as though he thought I'd fear his closeness and he wouldn't be able to take the loss.

"Gods, Vash." I sighed, holding him just as tightly, stroking his hair as he cried.  "Shh, it's okay." I didn't know what to say, but I couldn't believe it.  Well, I could somewhat believe that Knives had done something of that sort.  He'd always been very untrustworthy and highly unstable if you asked me.  What bothered me was the fact that Vash seemed to think that all of it was his fault!  As though he'd hurt those children and then killed his brother for no reason!  I was at an utter loss, but one thing was clear.  "Vash, it's okay, you did the right thing."

"I…killed him!" he cried out.  His fingers were digging into my back, and it was starting to hurt like hell.

"Vash, come on now," I kissed his head, not thinking about the action.  "If I were there…those children, Vash.  Did the girl live?"

"Y…yes." He sniffled.

"You saved her." I told him.

"But…I didn't save Knives…" he sobbed quietly.

"Yes you did.  Don't you remember?  You saved him already, long ago." I told him, trying to stay calm and not think about what I'd have liked to do to that damn Knives man.  "I remember.  You shot him, but you saved him.  But he…something was wrong with him, Vash.  It's better this way."

"But…I don't have the right!  I don't have the right to just…just…" Vash collapsed again.

"I know it.  But you will be forgiven, Vash.  Think of it.  If you'd have saved him, how many others might have been sacrificed?  You did the best you could, Vash." I kissed his forehead, looking at his wet eyes.  "You can't always save everyone.  You aren't a god."

"No…no I'm not." He sounded a bit calmer, and his hands loosened a bit, much to my relief.  I was becoming short of breath.

"That's right." I sighed, stroking his hair until he finally fell asleep.  My secret could wait for tomorrow.

*****

The End (Of Part Three, That Is)