Disclaimer: I don't own anything Trigun, so don't sue me please, thank you!
Tying Up Loose Ends
Chapter Thirty-Two
Snap
"Finally, a place that hasn't been looted!"
Vash gathered bottled drinks and stale bread off of the cool, dry shelves of the root cellar, rationalizing the theft with the whole "finders keepers" motto that drove their entire scavenging lifestyle of the past week or so. He and the girls had been wandering for days and all were starving, parched, exhausted, and hotter than Hell. Following Knives' trail, they had yet to come upon a store, restaurant, or saloon that hadn't been stripped clean by the former residents as they left for the camp and the ships. Granted, this find wasn't the finest of culinary delights, but it would more than certainly do in light of their current circumstances.
Roscoe agreed, trying to cause Vash to trip and give up the goods; the huge dog had turned out to be an asset on the trip, as well as a good companion, despite Meryl's objections. He kept the less-than-human scavengers (and the human scavengers too if there had been any left to come across) at bay and could sniff out provisions in a whit's span of time. Besides, bringing him along kept Milly from crying her big, soft heart out when she thought they were going to leave the dog behind.
"Hey girls, look what your provider has discovered! Who's a manlier man, hunter, person-thingy than I? No one! That's right…"
Vash's goofy ramble that echoed up the stairs before him cut short when he popped back up on the brightly lit first floor. Meryl's stern gaze and a finger across her shooshing lips caused him to drop silently into the closest chair; why the petit woman sat so close to the crackling, buzzing satellite and wanted him to be silent, Vash had no clue. Unscrewing a bottle top and taking a big swig of the beer in hand, Vash alternated munching, drinking, chucking pieces of bread at Roscoe so he could catch them out of the air, and staring at the former Insurance Girl.
The door from the main room to the kitchen swung open to reveal a sweaty but smiling Milly, who was preemptively shushed by Meryl before the girl could get even a phoneme out. Cocking her head to the side and fixing her attention on Vash with a puzzled expression written across her face, he could only reply with a shrug and tossed both a beer and a hunk of bread to the tall woman. Milly jumped up onto the high counter not far from Meryl and joined Vash in this very dull form of entertainment; it had been a long two weeks in the deserted wasteland, so probably drying paint would be just as suitable as Meryl-watching at the moment. The only eyes in the room that weren't trained on the petit and profusely sweating woman had more important business keeping their owner from impatiently biting Vash's generous hand; all Roscoe really cared about was that the man kept the chewy yet satisfying morsels coming.
At last Meryl looked up at the two, and blushing furiously, turned off the dying satellite; the words of whomever had been broadcasting across the airwaves had been so faint that Vash and Milly could only make out a faint buzzing. Expectantly they sat forward in their seats, eagerly awaiting the news that they knew Meryl was just dying to impart to them.
"The ships are leaving in a week."
"So soon," Vash asked, confused. "But we haven't found them yet."
"I know, Vash," Meryl sighed, gently pinching the bridge of her nose and avoiding eye contact, "but the camp is five days away from here. We have basically no chance to find them and get there before lift-off."
"No."
"No what, Vash…"
"No, we won't leave them," he snapped, his voice breaking at the thought, "we can't leave them in his hands! I can't just abandon them like that!"
"Vash, we have no choice. Do you want to be stranded on this hell-hole until we die of thirst or starvation or we get eaten by a rabid sand worm or a crazed Ravager? Here's our chance for a normal life, for your chance at a normal life."
"Meryl…"
The last voice was Milly's, barely above a whisper. Vash had jumped to his feet during the discussion, his shoulders hunched tight and his fists clenched. He couldn't speak, appalled by Meryl's lack of concern for Edy or Isaiah. Besides, if he didn't find and stop Knives, no one would be leaving the planet any time soon. Taking a deep breath and relaxing his posture ever so slightly, Vash found words once more.
"I don't want a normal life, I want the life I had before Knives' freak show came back into town! I want a house and a job and a family, our family. If that's here, then so be it, but I can't forsake the ones that I love and… and need."
"Then this is where we part ways, Vash. I've dreamt all my life of somewhere else than here and I won't throw away my chance at that just so I can go rescue your girlfriend and beg your fucking psycho brother not to kill the god-damn SPIDERS!"
The fury and volume of Meryl's voice rose to astronomical proportions before the rant ended abruptly. Silence fell after she finished, no one speaking; Vash looked like he had been slapped, the blow effectively deflating his anger. Slumping down in his chair and picking up another beer, he opened it and chugged it half-heartedly, unable to bring himself to look at Meryl. Milly was near tears. Roscoe laid his head in Vash's lap, looking for scratches behind the ear, an action mistook by Vash as solace from the huge mutt. No one spoke for a few minutes.
"Put yourself in my shoes for once Meryl…"
"Oh no," she interrupted, still furious, "don't give me that crap. I've been putting myself in your shoes, trying to think the way you do, since I first met you. I've chased you all over this god-forsaken planet, working my ass off to understand why you adhere to this shit-for-balls philosophy that, while it is wonderful in theory, can never work in this life, especially in a life that has a crazy brother like yours running willy-nilly in it."
"Meryl…" Milly tried to beg.
"No Milly, I'm tired. I'm tired of all of this. I love you Vash and I've done everything I could to make you happy and keep you alive. Milly too. She would die for you, for me, for Wolfwood, even for Edy, Isaiah, and their fucking dog too if we would just ask it of her. Do you even acknowledge this once? Do you even ask us if we want to run across this planet heading away from salvation, away from peace, away from what we want for once? No, you don't. You're so wrapped up in your self-pity, your guilt, your fucking pariah-dom, that you don't even stop to say 'thanks' or 'what would you girls like to do this time.'"
"That's not true Meryl and you know it," Milly shouted at last, ceasing Meryl's tirade. "Mr. Vash is nothing like that at all; if anyone's being selfish, it's you!"
"Milly…"
"No," the tall girl riled up, angry tears splashing down her cheeks. Rarely had either seen her so worked up; it was quite sobering. "You go on, go to the camp, get on your precious ships and live your precious life on your precious Earth! I'm going with Vash, not because he's forcing me to but because that's what I want and that's what I choose to do!"
Meryl, dumbfounded, turned and stalked out of the room. Before the front door slammed behind her, though, she called out once more.
"You know, Knives probably heard the news and is heading towards the camp and the ships as we speak."
With a resounding bang, Meryl left the building. Roscoe stood at the door, tail half wagging as he looked imploringly from the remaining humans towards the place the other one went through; he wanted to go too, gosh darn it.
"You know, she's probably right about Knives going to the ships," Milly murmured between sniffles in the sudden quiet.
"Shit…" Vash muttered in reply. "Meryl, wait up!"
"She may be right, but she better apologize to you first, Mr. Vash, or I'm not going," Milly added as she followed close behind. "Monthly visitor or not, that's no excuse for being so rude!"
The only response Vash had to that was a brilliant blush rapidly over-taking his features.
* * * * *
Myshkin: Heh, Meryl's on her rag. Jeez, the worst place in existence that I could think of to have to deal with one's period would be Gunsmoke. Scratch that, the Ninth Circle of Hell's probably the worst. Still, ouch all around for the crew. Oh yeah, sorry so short. More to come soon. We've got to wrap this baby up, and quick; the suspense is killing me!