Misconception
Chapter Two
Meryl rushed out of the apartment building and down the street before Vash could decide to stop her. She didn't want to think about what would be said by either of them if she stayed any longer; things they may or may not mean, things that couldn't be taken back. She let the tears stream freely down her cheeks as she moved down the sidewalk but refused to give in to the sob she felt bubbling up in her throat.
She felt more alone than she had when she'd realized the test results were positive. All she wanted was to go back and cry in his arms, but she put the idea aside and kept walking, not paying much attention to where she was going. She just kept putting one foot in front of the other, turning at random corners, running their fight over and over in her head. Why was he being so stupidly stubborn? She respected his feelings on the sanctity of life. It was one of the things she loved most about him. But this was different, dammit. The idea of having an abortion nauseated her, but she wasn't one to hide from the necessities of reality no matter how much they sickened her.
Her footsteps slowed as a sudden lurch of her stomach alerted her to the fact that the nausea wasn't just mental. Why the hell did they call it morning sickness when it came anytime? Looking around frantically, she spotted a public trash can and sprinted over to it, just barely making it before she emptied the contents of her stomach and then some into the receptacle. She heaved until there was nothing left, then leaned on the edge of the can for support, breathing in huge gulps of air. She was dimly aware that passersby were giving her odd looks. Great, I must look like some pitiful drunk. She tried not to give into the tears, but her shoulders shook with the effort.
"Meryl?" Meryl picked her head up in surprise at the sound of her name. "Is that you?"
She turned around. A few feet away, grocery bag in hand, stood Milly, a concerned look on her face. "Meryl, what's wrong?" She rushed forward, dropping her bag.
"Oh, Milly." Meryl managed a smile for half a second before a great sob overtook her. "Everything." She felt her friend's arms go around her and she leaned into them, crying as hard as she could as Milly rocked her back and forth.
***
"It was awful, Milly," Meryl said. "He wasn't listening to anything I said and I just got so mad…I don't know what I'm going to do." She wiped her eyes. After she'd cried herself out somewhat, Milly had hurried Meryl back to her own apartment where she'd made tea for them both and gently--but firmly--insisted Meryl tell her what was wrong. After the first few words, it had all come pouring out.
"I'm so sorry, Meryl." Milly's blue eyes were wide and sorrowful, as if she could feel everything Meryl was feeling. Hell, as empathetic as her friend was, she might be able to at that. "Do you know what you're going to do next?"
Meryl shook her head. "I have no idea," she said. "I don't even know what we'll say to each other after this. I feel so…embarrassed." She flushed bright pink. "I just wanted to sit down and talk about this rationally, like adults, and instead I screamed at him. Some adult I am. But he was being so—infuriating! He wasn't even trying to see my point of view! I shouldn't have to be the only person thinking about the problems."
"Meryl," Milly said softly, and repeated her friend's name when she didn't look up right away. "Do you want to have the baby?"
Meryl stared into her teacup. "It's not a matter of wanting or not wanting to, Milly. I told you, because Vash is a plant it could—"
"I know that, and I know you have to think about those things," Milly interrupted. "But there's more to it than that. You don't know for sure that something might be wrong with the baby. It could all be perfectly fine. If that happens, you'll be a mother. Do you want that?"
Meryl was silent for a long time before answering. "I…don't know." She took another sip of her tea. "It's all I've been thinking about when I haven't been worrying if it would even be possible. I kept re-calculating my income and Bernardelli's medical benefits in case Vash decided to leave. But when I think about me holding a baby—I can't see past that. It's not that I don't like children, but I never considered them before we were together, and when we thought Vash and I couldn't have them anyway it didn't seem to matter. But I don't know how to take care of a baby." She wiped new tears from her eyes. "I don't know if I can do this."
Milly reached over to squeeze Meryl's hand. "Of course you can," she said. "Meryl, you're the strongest person I know. And the most important part of raising a child is love, and I know you've got plenty of that!"
Meryl was silent.
Milly decided to try again. "Meryl, forget about what could go wrong for a minute. Think about what could be right. If you could guarantee that everything would turn out all right, would you want this baby with Vash?"
Meryl was quiet for another long moment before nodding faintly.
Milly beamed. "See, that wasn't so hard! Now all you have to do is tell him that."
"I don't think it's that simple."
"Of course not." Milly shook her head. "But it's not as complicated as you're making it seem, either. At least not this part of it. I know he'll listen if you tell him how you feel, and then you can work the rest of it out together."
Meryl's eyes were once again bright with tears, but this time she was smiling. "Why do you always have the answers?"
"Just talented, I guess. But you don't need to worry anymore tonight." She reached out to take Meryl's cup. "Right now you need to get some sleep. Take my bed; the couch is fine for me."
"I don't want to impose--" Meryl protested, but Milly shook her head, her jaw set determinedly.
"Whatever you decide, you've got to take care of yourself," Milly said. She reached out and squeezed Meryl's hand. "I'll be here for you no matter what," she said softly. "I wish I could do more."
She smiled wanly. "You already have, trust me." She stood up slowly, legs swaying slightly in her post-cry exhaustion. "Are you sure you don't want me to take the couch? I'd fit on it a lot better."
"Nope. Go to sleep."
"Thanks, Milly," Meryl murmured, and moved down the hall towards the bedroom.
Milly busied herself with cleaning up the teacups and putting away the groceries she'd been out shopping for. After fifteen minutes or so, she crept down the hall and peeked into her room. Meryl lay curled up on the bed, her breathing deep and even. Satisfied, Milly shut the door quietly and headed back to her living room, where she picked up the phone. She quickly dialed a well-memorized number and spoke as soon as the other end picked up. "Vash, Meryl's here and she's fine."
She heard a swift intake of breath from the other end of the line. "Oh, thank God," Vash breathed. "Is she--how did you find--"
"I ran into her in the street. She was crying." Milly paused. "She told me what happened."
"Oh. I…how is she now?"
"She's asleep right now, and I want her to spend the night here," she continued. "I thought you'd want to know what she's all right."
"I do." He sounded positively wretched. "Milly, what am I supposed to do? I love her so much. I can't stand to hurt her but I can't imagine getting rid of our own baby. I never thought I'd have anyone or get the chance to be a father and I don't know what to do to make this better."
"I think you need to say some of this to Meryl," Milly said gently. "She's scared too. I think what she needs more than anything is to know that you'll love her no matter what happens."
"I do. I will. But what if she decides she doesn't want to have the baby? I don't know if I could just stand by and watch it happen."
"I think she wants this baby, too," Milly said. "She's just scared of what could happen. You two need to talk when you're not all worked up. Nothing gets solved that way. She needs to know you'll support her," she said softly. "It's very important that you do that, Vash. You don't want to lose someone you love…not when you don't have to."
"I think you're right." His voice was soft.
"Of course I am." She smiled into the receiver. "I'll send her home in the morning. Now you get some sleep too, all right? I don't want you to stay up all night worrying."
"I'll try."
***
Vash did try, but it seemed that when he finally laid down to rest scarcely a moment passed before the sun was rising and he was wide awake. He attempted to make a pot of coffee before giving up—that was her domain, and he just ended up with lumpy water. He retreated to the couch, flopping down to think.
It was time to re-assess the situation. He'd been shaken to the core by Meryl's announcement that she was pregnant. It wasn't that he didn't know how these things happened, of course, but even with his limited knowledge of his own true nature, Vash had always assumed that he would not be able to create life with a human woman. He'd confessed this to her during one of the many late-night, cuddled-close talks that occurred after he returned to her. Neither of them had given it much thought at the time. Both of them were too drunk with new love and freedom from shadowy threats to worry about the future.
Now? Vash was gripped by a mixture of joy and terror. He, who'd expected to be alone, had helped create a new life. They could build a family, a home, no matter what happened with Knives. In the aftermath of shock, dizzy joy was all Vash could feel. Now he felt sick. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Meryl was in Milly's good hands and hadn't done anything rash. Not that he'd expected her to, or he would have chased after her, but it did help relieve the pressure of the invisible vice that seemed to grasp his chest.
Their child. A hybrid child. The night before he'd only been able to think about what a miracle this seemed, but Vash had lived long enough to know that miracles came with a price. Meryl's words echoed through his mind, made worse by the fact that they could be true. What would he do then? Vash didn't know.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. He rose to his feet as she stepped inside. He wasn't sure what to expect—more yelling, maybe, or tears—but she just looked at him a moment, pale and expressionless, and moved to hang her coat up on its hook.
He moved towards her, but stopped when he got within a couple of feet of her. "How are you?" he blurted out.
She glanced at him briefly before turning partially away so that he couldn't see her whole face. "I'm all right," she said. "Milly let me sleep in her bed. It's stupid, since her legs hang off the end of her couch and I'd fit on it perfectly well. But you know Milly."
He nodded. "Did you sleep all right?"
She shrugged. "I guess. I kept having…dreams." She sighed and stepped away. "Look, I'm kind of tired, so I think I want to lie down for a little bit."
"Meryl, wait."
His words stopped her, but she didn't turn around. "Vash, please, I just can't…" He could hear the choked-back tears in her voice.
"I'm so sorry," he said, a tear of his own falling down his cheek. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and I…can we just start over? Forget what we said yesterday? We can work through this together, can't we?"
She turned to face him, revealing the telltale streaks on her face. "Vash…" For a moment he feared she was going to walk away again, but instead she let out a choked little sob and threw herself into his arms.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her fiercely, rocking them back and forth as her shoulders shook with sobs. "I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I should have listened to what you were saying, I shouldn't have been such a pigheaded ass…"
"No," she murmured. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, smiling slightly. "I mean, you were an ass. But I just dumped everything on you and expected you to understand right away…I didn't give you time to digest it." She let out a long, shaky breath. "I guess we were both pretty bad."
"Yeah." He squeezed her once more. "Here, let's sit down."
She let him take her hand and lead her to the couch, where they sat together. Looking at their joined hands, Meryl realized she wasn't sure what to say next. She decided to try anyway. "Vash, I—"
"Wait," he interrupted. "I need to say something first." He took a breath and looked her in the eye. "I'm willing to talk about what we should do next, but I want to decide together. This might not affect me the same way it does you, but it's still going to change both of our lives, one way or the other. We created this—situation—together. It kinda hurts to think I can't be part of the decision."
Meryl lowered her eyes. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. Of course I want you to be part of it."
"You know how I feel, though" he said. "I don't want you to end the pregnancy. I want to have our baby. That's not going to change. I'm sorry I didn't listen better yesterday, but I'm not sorry for how I feel."
"There's more to consider than wanting it, though," she replied. "The differences between us…I wasn't just saying those things to upset you, Vash. We don't know what will happen or if I'm even capable of carrying to term."
He winced slightly, but nodded. "I know."
"But…" She stroked the back of his hand with hers. "I want to try to have the baby, too."
His eyes widened. "Y-you do?" His whole face seemed to lighten as a tentative smile grew.
Meryl nodded. "I did a lot of thinking last night. Before, I was so worried about what could happen that I didn't think about what I wanted to happen…and I realized I want this, with you. And I need you." She clung to him suddenly, breath shaky. "I'm so scared," she whispered. "I want to believe this can be all right, but I keep thinking of what could go wrong. This world is hard enough to live in as it is—I don't know if I could bear it if the baby had it that much worse just because of what we are.
Vash rocked her against him. "Shh, it'll be okay…"
"You don't know that!" She pressed her face against his shoulder, hot tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm scared for me, too. What's this going to do to me? What if something happens and you're left with the baby and Knives? What if he tries to take it?" She shivered. "I feel so out of control."
"I'll be right here the whole time," he said. "Every step of the way."
"I just wish I knew where to begin." She sighed then looked up when he didn't say anything. "Vash?"
"I think I do," he said slowly.
***
Richard Broadfield had, on his journey from lowly Associate Third-Class Broadfield to December Section Chief Broadfield, long ceased feeling any surprise at the challenges that his job presented. Though few people thought of insurance as a creative field, he'd often had to admire the innovation people exhibited when coming up with reasons to get the honorable Bernardelli Insurance Company to pay their claims. Even more interesting were the stories behind the legitimate claims, especially with Vash the Stampede running around the planet.
Still, he had to admit to some surprise as he read the paperwork that sat on his desk, something this particular agent was not known to cause in him. That was one of the reasons he'd chosen this particular agent to lead the Stampede Surveillance Project, as it had come to be known; she was hard-working, meticulous in her reports, and someone he'd privately marked as a possible successor to his duties. However, the paperwork she'd just submitted marked a major change in behavior.
Well, there was only one way to find out the cause. "Carol?" He called out to his secretary. "Have Stryfe come in here immediately."
Less than two minutes later, Meryl was standing in front of his desk, looking uncharacteristically tense for someone whose personnel file held nothing but positive marks. "Can I help you, sir?"
Broadfield nodded. "I received a special request a little bit ago, Miss Stryfe." He gestured to the papers on his desk. She barely glanced at them, undoubtedly familiar with their contents since she'd filled them out herself. "It says you're asking for a leave of absence."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
"May I ask why?"
She colored slightly, and inwardly he marveled at what could possibly have nonplussed Stryfe so. "It's…personal, sir."
"Personal."
"Yes, sir."
He drummed his knuckles against the solid oak surface, giving her a long look before speaking again. "Well, there's a problem with it. You haven't filled in the amount of time you're requesting off."
"I don't know how long, sir." She spoke quietly.
He gave her another long, calm look. "You know the policies, Miss Stryfe. Unless it's for medical reasons, I cannot grant an extended leave of absence without a reason. The company demands stability and organization." He spread his hands on the desk. "I don't want to see you go. If you can give me a reason, any reason…"
She remained silent and distinctly ill-at-ease.
"Does this have anything to do with the Stampede case?" he asked. "Residual stress? Despite initial losses, your work on that case was very good and it seems to have been ultimately effective. If you need compensatory vacation time…"
"That's not it," Meryl said, her tone still calm even as her expression betrayed anxiety. "I'm sorry, sir, but I really can't explain. It's…"
"Personal, yes."
"Sir, if this is unacceptable, I am willing to submit my resignation." There was no threat in her tone, just resignedness.
He shuffled a few papers on his desk in a gesture that gave him a few more moments of silence. "Here's what I think will happen," he said. "You're free to leave and take care of whatever personal business you have. As an ex-employee of Bernardelli's, you'll be entitled to a written recommendation if you choose to seek employment elsewhere. Once your business is finished, I believe there will most likely be an opening in your department if you come back." He picked up a pen and signed the bottom of the request form. "Good luck, Meryl. I hope we'll see you again."
***
Meryl closed her locker door with a small sigh. It wasn't regret, exactly; thanks to the Chief's generosity, it was likely that she would be back, one way or another. But it was certain that however things went, her life would be very different the next time she saw the inside of the storage space.
There wasn't much for her to take away: her mantle, her pocketbook, a silly drawing of her and Vash that he'd tucked into her briefcase one day before work. She'd leave the mirror.
Milly was smiling at her as she turned around. "Ready to go?"
"I suppose." Meryl smiled faintly. "Try not to get in too much trouble without me, all right?"
"I promise." Milly reached out to hug her, though not as forcefully as her usual embraces were. "Take care of yourself, and Mr. Vash."
"I promise."
Meryl passed through the sea of clicking typewriters without interruption. She wasn't surprised or annoyed. With the exception of Milly's friendship, Meryl had taken great pains to keep her personal life at home since their field work had ended—it wouldn't do to mix work and pleasure any more than she already had.
A blue truck was parked outside when Meryl returned, in the never-used spot reserved for their unit. It was the kind with a roof over the bed, and when she passed by she was startled to see Knives lying inside, still unconscious and tied to a travois of some sort. It seemed that Vash had been busy while she was away.
He greeted her at the door, a bulging suitcase in each hand. "Need some help?"
"Nope, I've got them." Moving briskly, he opened the back of the truck to deposit the luggage next to Knives' still form. "What else do we need?" Meryl asked.
"Nothing." Vash shook his head. "I've got everything."
"So I see." She glanced at Knives. "Are you sure he'll be welcome?"
Vash sighed. "Not really," he admitted. "I don't see what choice I have, though. I can't just leave him here." He leaned over to place an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, it'll be all right."
"Mmm." She laid her head on his shoulder. "Vash, do you really think they can help us?"
"I don't know," he said quietly. "But even after the crash, the ship had more medical technology than what survived here on the planet. If anyone knows what to do, it'll be Doc." He squeezed her before letting go. "Come on. It's a long way to New Oregon.
Meryl didn't look back as Vash steered them through the streets of December and away into the desert. There was no point to it; they'd already left their old life behind for good.
Vash glanced sidelong at Meryl as he drove, noting that her hand had once more strayed to her abdomen, fingers idly stroking. Careful not to run off the road, he placed his hand lightly over hers. "Is that where…?"
She smiled wanly. "So I'm told."
"Can I feel?"
"There's nothing to feel yet, Vash." Regardless of her words, she let his hand press to her middle, guiding it with her own to the right spot.
Vash concentrated hard, searching for any trace of a movement or spark of life, but there felt nothing that hadn't been there weeks or months before, nothing to indicate the presence of what had suddenly become the most precious thing in the world to him.
He amended that thought as Meryl leaned her head on his shoulder and slid an arm around him. One of the most precious things.
Thanks to the usual crew for being betawenches. Apologies to Grey if I missed any of her wondrous nitpicks as I am ass-tired.
