Okay, now here's something interesting.  After posting the last chapter, I received many reviews commenting on the behavior of Meryl's brothers and the interaction between Vash and the brothers.  The interesting part of this is that no one seems to agree on anything here.  I currently have…two reviewers that thought they got along too well with Vash and want them to fight it out, six reviewers that thought I did a good job of making brothers protective and mean to Vash, one person thought the brothers were unrealistically mean and overprotective, and four reviewers are just angry at the brothers comments and want them to get their asses kicked.  So how's an author supposed to make everyone happy?  I hope this gives you all an idea of why every review you give me doesn't seem to result in me changing things to go with your suggestions, because for every reviewer that says something like "Vash is too nice here" I get a review that says "Vash is too mean here" and another that says he's perfect.  I haven't actually gotten people telling me he's too mean or nice…but yeah, that's an example for you.  So I figure if I get mixed reviews on a certain topic, that means I'm doing a good job.  And to the one person that thought that they were just unrealistically mean, I would like to say that I have three brothers, and I based Aaron and Gavin on how they treat guys I bring home, whether they think I like the guy or not.  Also…one person said that the ugly baby comment sounded racist…which would make sense if race were an issue here, but as it isn't…yeah, that comment made no sense to me.  Also, even though we, the readers (and writer) know that Vash isn't human, the brothers would have no way of knowing that, so yeah, that really made no sense to me.  And to the one reviewer who is still nagging me about the coat, gun, and glasses, don't make me kick you.  I will.  And Ashley's just my friend, we were joking around, and we wanted to see if anyone would notice that last intro.

As a special note, I'd like to thank two people.  First, Lady Killarri for pointing out a stupid mistake I made because I'm a dork so that I could fix it.  Problem solved!  And second, I'd like to thank Midnight Star for an irresistibly cute idea.  Look, I'm doing it!

*****

Take My Hand

Part 11

*****

Do you remember how much faith you had as a child?  The way you'd believe anything your parents told you based simply on the fact that they were your parents and why shouldn't you believe them?  And so you believed them when they told you about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.  But as you start to grow older and you learn more about the world, you start to have doubts about these stories that went so long without being questioned.  And then, there's the inevitable disillusionment when you discover that all this time, you were being fed hopeful dreams and myths, lies that can only exist in the carefree world of unquestioning childish naiveté.

That's a lot what it's like to be in love, except instead of having others lie to you, you start to lie to yourself.  You tell yourself that everything will always work out easily as long as you're in love.  You tell yourself that you'll always be happy, and that all your problems will dissolve into nothingness.  You tell yourself that your outlaw fiancé will never be recognized, and you'll never have to give up your comfortable life to keep him with you.  You tell yourself that life, while sometimes unfair, would never do anything adverse to a couple in love and expecting their first child in only a month.

You tell yourself all of these things, but can they all stand the test of time?  I should have known that my complacence would never last long, but I was so happy, so euphoric in the fact that my parents accepted Vash and that after a month of open hostility, my brothers had toned down their behavior to cautious acceptance, and then finally to an uneasy friendship…I should have known it couldn't always be so perfect.  But I was eventually disillusioned, as we all must be in times of happiness that seem so great you begin to think that they'll never end.

----------

"No…no, I'm fine." I spoke into the phone as I laid on the couch, my head propped atop a cushion and my feet barely visible past the barrier of my bulging stomach.  My mother had claimed that her own pregnancies hadn't been as dramatic as mine was, but I think that I am a bit smaller than she is, so the stomach would of course look even more ridiculously huge on me.  "No, really mom…it's okay…no, we have plenty of…well, that does sound pretty good." I was going through my daily phone call with my mother.  In the past, I usually only called her two or three times a month, but she was now calling me once a day.  At first, after I had brought Vash home for the first time, she had upped the frequency of phone calls to once a week, and then it was two or three times a week, and by the time I had finally told Bernadelli that I would be leaving until my condition returned to normal, she started calling me every day.  Apparently, she claimed that I would need her help as I had never been pregnant before and she had been through it three times, but I think she was just so excited about the baby that she took every chance she had to talk with me about it.  Recently, however, her focus had shifted from discussing the cuteness of babies and how mine and Vash's might look to trying to become my nursemaid.  Every day, she would offer to come over, do all the chores and various other tasks, bring me food, go out and buy me things that I "needed" and generally pamper me so that I never had to get up.  I would be lying if I said the prospect of not having to stand up wasn't tempting, as my stomach seemed to weigh as much as the rest of me itself, and my back was constantly sore and my feet ached and were swollen, but I refused to become dependent on my mother.  At that moment, she had just offered to bring me some apple pie that she'd just made, knowing that it was one of my favorite desserts.

"What's going on?" Millie's voice came from the kitchen, and it was soon followed by her head peeking around the corner.  Much like my mother, Millie seemed to think I was entirely unable of caring for myself, and she came over almost every day to make me lunch.  In addition to my mother's inevitable visits and Millie's daily check-in, my brothers had taken it in turns to come over at about the time that Vash was getting off work to "help with dinner" which was code for "sit in the kitchen and harass Vash and then eat more food than anyone else at dinner."  It had gotten a lot less hostile lately, so I was okay with it.  At least they all seemed to get along now, if only for my sake.  I was sure that my apartment had never seen so much traffic since I had first moved in.

"My mom's made apple pie." I told her after saying goodbye to the older woman on the phone and hanging up.  "She's bringing some over."

"Oh!  I love your mother's cooking!" Millie clapped her hands before disappearing back into the kitchen.  "She's really excited about the baby, isn't she?" I could hear the slight sad note in her voice, and I knew that she was perhaps thinking of her own family again, thinking of what they might have said if she had brought Wolfwood home with her…if she had been engaged to him, if she had been pregnant with his child.  I licked my lips and decided that I should tell her what Vash and I had discussed only two nights ago.

"You know…we decided on a name." I called out, trying to sound as casual as possible.  Millie reappeared only a few moments later, carrying a plate stacked up with all the things she knew I'd been craving lately.  I took the peanut butter and pickle sandwich and began eating it, feeling just as ravenous as I had been for the past few months.

"Really?" Millie's eyes lit up and she bit into the apple from her own lunch.  "Boy and girl names?  Cause you know, you can't be sure what it might be."

"Yeah, we thought of that." I smiled at her as I continued munching on my sandwich.  "Did you want to hear what we came up with?"

"Sure!" Millie was such an amazing friend.  She had been depressed about her own tragic love life only a few moments before, but now you couldn't tell that she felt anything other than excitement for my own happy little family.

"Well, we thought that if it was a girl, we could name her Rem, you know, after Vash's adopted mother?" I began.  Millie clasped her hands together, almost smashing the leftover apple.

"That's so sweet!  It's perfect!" Millie practically squealed.  "What about if it's a boy?"

"Well, if it's a boy we were going to name him Nicholas.  If…you think that's okay." I amended the statement, but I shouldn't have worried.  Millie looked at me with her lower lip trembling for a few moments before simply bursting into tears and nearly knocking my lunch off the table as she lunged forward to hug me tightly.

"Oh!  You guys…it's just…that means so much…I'm sure that he would have loved it."  She planted a big kiss on my forehead, pulling back and wiping at her tear-streaked face as she continued to cry slightly.  "Thank you…so much."

"It's nothing.  I couldn't have come up with a name I'd rather give my son." I told her warmly.  She was still sniffling and wiping at her eyes when my mother arrived only a few moments after that.

"Hello!  I brought a few extra…oh, Millie, dear, are you alright?" My mother entered, arms loaded with groceries, which she promptly dropped on the coffee table when she saw the state that my friend was in.

"Oh…I'm fine, Ellen, I was just talking with Meryl about naming the baby." Millie wiped up the last of her tears before picking up one of the big bags and bustling into the kitchen with it.

"Did you guys pick names then?" my mother came over, plumping the pillow under my head and brushing a cool hand over my forehead.

"Yeah.  We're going to name it Rem if it's a girl and Nicholas if it's a boy." I told her.  "After his deceased adopted mother and an old friend of ours who died."

"Oh…did Millie know him?" my mother asked, still looking concerned at seeing Millie cry.  I didn't know why, really.  Millie cried as often as Vash.

"They were kind of together but…" I trailed off as Millie came back in to get the other large bag of groceries.

"Oh, Millie, dear, let me help with that.  I brought it over, after all." My mother chased my friend off into the kitchen and I sighed, unable to repress a slight smile.  Life was good.  I used to think that I enjoyed my solitude, but now that I was surrounded in people I cared about, I couldn't see myself living any other way.  Though I sometimes did wish that Vash and I were given a bit more privacy…

"Meryl, sweetie, finish your lunch!  We're going to put the groceries away and then bring you a slice of pie!" my mother called from the kitchen.  I rolled my eyes and with no small effort, maneuvered myself so I was sitting up, leaning forward in an attempt to not drop the crumbs of my crackers covered in cream cheese, bacon bits, and olives all over the bulge of my stomach.  Eventually, I just gave up and set the plate on my stomach so I could eat over it easier.  I was just finishing, standing up to brush off the crumbs, when my mother came back in with a plate of pie, her smile immediately turning into a disapproving glare.

"Sit right back down!  What are you doing!" she set the pie down and then shoved me back into the couch, looking as though she blamed the fact that I'd stood up on her own negligence.

"I was just getting the crumbs off mom!  I'm gonna get bedsores if you force me to lay in one place all the time." I grumbled as Millie reentered, carrying her own slice of pie and looking very pleased with herself.  At that moment, I heard the front door slam open, and before I had time to do more than widen my eyes in shock, Vash had dashed in, panic in his eyes as he saw us all.  I could tell that he had been running, and stomach or not, I was immediately on my feet.

"Meryl!  No!" my mother protested, but I managed to brush her off as Vash ran up to me hugging me so tightly he nearly lifted me off the ground.  "Vash, are you all right, dear?"

"What is it?" I asked him as I noticed the emotions swirling through his eyes.  There were so many that I had no idea what he was feeling at the moment.

"Two bounty hunters…down at the diner…they know who I am." He told me as my mother's eyes went wide.  They did not yet know that Vash was the infamous Vash the Stampede.  Many people didn't think he really existed, after all.  "They were going to wait until I left to catch me, but I heard them talking.  I slipped out the back, but it won't be long before they figure it out."

"They found you?" Millie's voice was shrill with alarm.

"What's going on?  Bounty hunters?  Why would they want Vash?" my mother was at an utter loss.

"We have to go, don't we?" I asked him, my voice breathless with the excitement and anxiety of it all.  So this was it, then.  We were on the run.

"You don't have to go.  I could come back for you later." He told me urgently, but I shook my head.

"In what, five years?  You think I'd wait that long?" I pressed a kiss to his chin, unable to stretch up further.  "You knew I was coming with you or you wouldn't have come back here in the first place.  Just let me get a few things…"

"There's no time.  Get what you need and have Millie get you the rest later.  We have to disappear." Vash told me, kissing my lips quickly before rushing to the bedroom to get whatever he deemed necessary.

"Mom, Millie, I've got to go now.  I'll be in touch with you but—" my mother cut me off, her features streaked with more panic than I'd ever seen in her before.

"Meryl, what is going on here?  You've got to go where?  What's this all about?  Why are bounty hunters after Vash?" my mom fired off question after question.

"Mom, Vash is Vash the Stampede." I answered simply before turning to get my traveling cloak and derringers out of the back of the hallway closet.

"Vash the Stampede?  The humanoid typhoon?" my mother sounded like she might faint.

"He's a very nice man, really." Millie explained to her as he reappeared wearing a cloak that made him look like an inconsequential vagabond.  Trust Vash to always be prepared.  "And he'd never hurt a fly!  We met him long ago and you know, he's nothing like a criminal at all.  Those charges against him are completely unjustified."

"Maybe a little justified." I grinned at my fiancé ruefully and he offered me a smile in return before getting my shoes to help me put them on.

"I got some clothes and things in a bag by the bedroom door." He told me as I let him slip both shoes on, buttoning up the sides easily around my swollen feet.  "Grab what you need, we need to go."

"Okay, why don't you say goodbye to mom and Millie." I waved to the two women in the living room.

"Vash…the Stampede?  But…he's so sweet and polite." My mother looked like she didn't know whether she wanted to scream or cry.  Millie was patting her shoulder helpfully.

"It's okay, Ellen, we need to be strong for them now.  Don't think about what you've heard, think of what you know.  Do you really think Vash is bad?" Millie asked her.

"I'll be seeing you two later." I could hear them as I tossed a few things into the bag and carried it out to the living room.  Vash was hugging Millie and just turning to hug my mother when I came back.

"Yeah, we'll be in touch.  I'll have you drop a few things off at the old bar outside of Winston in a few days, okay Millie?" I hugged her, letting her press a kiss to my forehead before she let me go, her eyes glistening with tears, but a smile still on her face.

"He's an outlaw, Meryl?" my mother seemed a bit confused as I turned to hug her after Vash had let her go and picked up the bag.

"Yes, mother, but he's a good man.  Better than any other that I've known, and I love him."  I told her, kissing her cheek.  "I'll be in touch, but I can't tell you where I'm at.  We're on the run, you know."  I told her cheerfully as she began to cry.  I took Vash's hand and we walked out the door, never looking back.  After all, he was my home, and as long as I was with him, I was happy.  I know I should have been scared for myself, for my baby, for Vash, but all I knew was that we were doing what we had to to stay as one family, and that was all that mattered to me.

*****

The End (Of Part 11, That Is)