~*~*~Chapter 12~*~*~
Silence reigned for hours in the small, cluttered room. Time and time again Vash would think of something to say, then look at her, grit his teeth, and stay silent.
He was still looking out the window when the sun had set and there was no longer anything to see. The house was not my fault. She could try to be a little more understanding. But that's really not her fault either, is it? He raised a hand to his forehead and sighed quietly. It's because I'm Vash the Stampede. I'm the terrible outlaw with sixty billion double dollars on his head and the blood of countless innocents on his hands. This… this is my fault. Maybe I never should have come back in the first place. I went against my better judgment doing it, but I still came back. I put their lives in danger because of my useless sentimentalism. Knives wasn't a threat anymore, but I didn't think about the bounty hunters and vengeful family members who would want nothing more than to see me die. I was stupid… so stupid and naïve. Now Meryl could die because of me. Maybe I should just leave. Get out of here and leave everyone at peace.
His head hit the cool metal of the wall and he bit his tongue, painfully aware of the tight, heavy self-loathing that settled in his heart.
"I should just leave. Everyone would be so much better off without me around to screw things up…" he whispered to himself. Suddenly he heard a loud THUNK, and he briefly saw stars as the heel of a white boot connected with his temple.
He turned to look at Meryl, who was standing next to her box, fists again clenched at her sides, her eyes spitting grey fire at him from across the room.
"How can you possibly say that?" she hissed. "Don't you ever think about all the people you've helped? Can you do anything more than sit around and feel sorry for yourself for being Vash the Stampede, or do you intend to do something about it?!"
His eyes narrowed. He was tired, hungry, cold, and in a bad mood. Now was not the time to be pressing his buttons.
"Does it really matter? Do the lost lives mean nothing to you?! What about Brad? Wolfwood? All the people in July and Augusta? Even Legato didn't deserve to die!!"
"You were trying to protect the innocent…yourself…Millie…even me-"
"Trying isn't good enough! The fact that I tried doesn't make up for what I've done!!" He was screaming now, trying to hold back the hot tears that blurred his vision. He cried constantly; he was such a baby. But he was too angry… to angry at himself, to back down now. "What am I supposed to do? Forget?! Everything that happens, it's always my fault! Everyone who touches me dies! Wolfwood almost died because of me! I even put your life and Millie's in danger! Why shouldn't I leave?!"
She was on him before he knew what was happening. A white blur slammed him into the wall, then onto the floor. She held him by his collar, completely ignoring the pain in her foot and wrist that made her want to pass out.
"WHY SHOULDN'T YOU LEAVE? I'LL TELL YOU WHY YOU SHOULDN'T LEAVE!! BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH OUR LIVES ARE IN DANGER, WE'RE YOU'RE FRIENDS AND WE LOVE YOU ANYWAY! ALL OF US ARE PERFECTLY AWARE OF THE DANGER!! GOD KNOWS MILLIE AND I HAVE PULLED YOUR ASS OUT OF TROUBLE ENOUGH TIMES!! AND WHY DO YOU THINK WOLFWOOD IS STILL HERE? HE CAME THE CLOSEST TO ACTUALLY DYING, AND HE STILL HANGS AROUND, PROTECTING YOU, BEFRIENDING YOU!! WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS, VASH? WHY?!"
She screamed all of it in his face, slamming his head into the pavement for emphasis. Angry tears were streaming down her face by now, and she felt light headed from screaming. She had been so angry. Her vision had been blood red and her head pounded like a jackhammer. She was shaking from the powerful adrenaline rush her anger had given her. Now, as her anger began to fade, she felt completely drained and empty. And depressed… Very, very depressed.
She had been looking right at him, but she didn't remember actually seeing him. Now she saw him, though. The mixture of awe, shock, horror, anger, and pain that stayed fixed on his face made her want to shoot herself. The black eye she had given him was now even more of a shocking contrast to his pale skin.
She removed her shaking hands from his collar and backed off him. A wave of remorse, nausea, dizziness, and pain from her wounds made her double over, her hands around her head and her face on the floor, her knees digging into her chin. A torrent of sobs that sounded like wails tore from her throat
Vash slowly and shakily sat up. Then he froze, staring at her in wide-eyed dismay. She had completely fallen apart. But… This was Meryl. Meryl, go-to-it, responsible, always-in-control-of-her-emotions-to-the-point-of-apathy, Stryfe. The back of his head reminded him of how hard she had knocked his skull into the floor. Maybe it was all just too much, he decided. Falling down the stairs, Millie and Wolfwood leaving, my nightmare, the house burning down, those whackos…and now this.
He knelt next to her and lightly touched her arm. "Meryl…?" he murmured. She clutched her head harder.
He reached his arm across her back and rested his head on the back of her shoulder. "Please…"
She was quieter now, but her knew it was only because she was exhausted. My God… This is my fault. I did this to her. I did this to Meryl.
"Please…" he breathed.
A wretched sob shook her, and she made a kind of wheezing, choking sound, as if she could hardly breathe. Her elbow jerked back, hitting him in the nose. He pulled away form her, staring at the floor and holding a hand to his bloody nose.
Her head rose from her arms slowly, every centimeter taking huge amounts of effort. Her eyes were red and her damp, scraggly hair clung to her face. She took in the scene; his head was bowed and both hands were in his lap. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose to his chin and his unkempt blond hair hid his eyes. He looked like a child. It was strange how such a tall man could look so childish.
"You…big…baby…" she said quietly, her voice hoarse and cracking.
He raised his head a little and looked at her reproachfully.
A big baby with a square jaw and an…earring…
She feebly reached one hand to him and took his. He looked at her for a moment, the looked down at her hand in his.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered through intermittent sobs.
Vash looked back up at her his face kind yet cheerless. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I suppose I deserved that."
"No you didn't." She closed her eyes.
His mouth twitched weakly, unable to form the bitter smile that mirrored the thoughts that ran through his brain. His eyes traveled over her face; it looked so much more peaceful than it had before…
His smile faded as he realized she had fallen asleep; from pure exhaustion, probably. He returned her hand to her and took off his coat, laying it carefully on the floor. He stood and went to Meryl's side, ready to pick her up, and stopped.
A soft smile touched his lips. She looked like a little white cat, curled up in a little ball like that. He stooped and gathered her into his arms, careful not to wake her. He laid her gently in his coat, and wrapped her up in it. The cold air was already starting to get to him. She stirred and mumbled something.
"Oops," he murmured.
Her eyes opened halfway. "Mmm… huh? Vash…? What are you…?"
"It's cold," he said plainly.
"But you… No, I can't take your coat…" She stared to unwrap herself.
"I'll tie you up if you don't stay in there," he said warmly, his eyes smiling.
Meryl looked at him quizzically, and then turned over. "Whatever…" she mumbled.
He kept smiling at her. He wasn't really sure why he was smiling, but he didn't try to stop himself.
"How do you plan to stay warm?"
"Huh?" I thought she was asleep. "Um… I'll be fine. Really."
She turned slightly and gave his white dress-shirt a sidelong look. "Really."
He nodded happily, forcing his arms not to wrap around his shoulders. It was cold. His face took on a more blank expression when he noticed the white puffs that appeared in front of his face whenever he exhaled. "Really…" he repeated absent-mindedly.
Meryl struggled out of her red cocoon and sat up.
"Take it back," she said, holding the coat out to him.
Vash stared at her, dumbfounded. His eye twitched. Then he began to chuckle. He bowed his head and laughed at the floor. His arms crossed over his chest and he rocked back and forth in hysteria. He reminded Meryl of one of those toys that you punch, and it wobbles around before returning to its upright position.
He looks like he's going to fall over. How could he? He's already sitting on the floor! Meryl glared at him, her arm still comically outstretched.
"You… You…" He gasped between fits of laughter. "Just… un…believable… I… I… Can't… Breathe…"
Typical, Meryl thought as he went toppling to the ground. Grrrrr…
"What the hell are you laughing about you-" Meryl stopped short as Vash covered his eyes and pointed at her. More specifically, he was pointing at her blouse. She looked down.
"GAAAHH! What the- I'm- Vash, why the hell are you laughing?!"
"It's… it's…" he broke off, descending into another torrent of laughter as Meryl stared at the front of her blouse in horror.
"VASH SHUT UP! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! I NEED HELP!" She the fact that she didn't feel any pain only scared her more. The deep red stain covered the whole front of her blouse, and was spreading as she watched.
"To-…to-…" He couldn't control the giggles long enough to say an entire word.
She put her hands to her face dramatically and stared at the ceiling. "Ooooohhhhh….I'm going to die here, in this miserable little cell, without ever seeing Millie or Wolfwood again! I'm not ready to die! There's so much left to do with my life! Oh, it's so unfair!" she groaned loudly.
Vash struggled with his giggles, and lost. I need to (ha ha) stop this so I can tell her… Maybe if someone slaps me… Vash looked at Meryl for a moment, then sat up, still seized by hysteria. He knew something that would get him slapped.
Meryl's eyes popped open when she noticed that Vash had kissed her on the end of the nose. Without thinking, she hauled back and slapped him.
Just what I needed. "Ouch," he whispered, then shook his head, clearing away the last giggles that were left in his system. He looked at Meryl, who was clutching her head and staring at the ceiling in dismay.
"Meryl," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stared at the ceiling. "Meryl," he tried again, and she looked at him dully.
"That's not blood," he grinned.
Her expression remained dull and blank.
"That's tomato juice."
She stared at him. "Tomato juice," she repeated softly. He nodded.
Her eyes came back into focus and she stared at him. His eyes were shining and his cheeks were flushed from his recent giggle fit.
"Tomato juice. Wait… TOMATO JUICE?!"
Vash held up a bottle the size of a bottle of nail polish with a little red tomato printed on the label. "It was in my coat pocket. I guess the cap came off!" He beamed.
Meryl stared at him incredulously. She shook her head. He nodded.
Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped in a dead faint.
"The hell-?" Vash caught her before she hit the floor and leaned her against him. "Poor Meryl," he said with a smile.