The Sky is Too Far

Chapter 2 - (Whispered Nothings)

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He-ey! Heheh, I wasn't expecting to get so many reviews so quickly! ^___^ And such good ones, too. o_O;; So, thanks to all you who reviewed!! You all are my inspiration! Keep it coming! So, brought to you by (surprisingly enough) popular demand, it's.. Chapter 2!!! Oh, I almost forgot. No! The entire fic isn't from Meryl's POV (as you'll see here), I just thought it would be the easiest way to write that particular chapter. So be on the look out, POV's may be off and on here!

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Meryl awoke suddenly, drowned in sweat (despite how cold the night was), her back rigid and every muscle in her arms extremely tense as she sat up, grasping the sheets around and beneath her. She remained that way for almost a minute, her breathing coming in short, ragged drags. Had it been a dream? It had to have been... She lifted a shaky hand, running the back of it over her cheek, confirming the thought that she had been crying in her sleep.

What was wrong with her? Why has she been feeling so... fragile lately? It was such a foreign thing to her, she was usually much stronger than this, mentally, anyhow. Being in control? The thing which had always comforted her and earned her such respect in the past seemed to be deliberately eluding her. She had woken in tears, shaking in... what? Fright?

Her dream had been most unnerving, in her current state. She had gone to him, to his room, and he'd been awake. Sitting on her knees beside his bed, turning her head to avoid all possible eye contact...

"Vash, there's something I've been meaning to tell you..."

"Yeah, Meryl?"

His voice had seemed light... too light. A pause followed.

"I... well, you see, for a very long time now, I..."

"You what?"

Had there been a hint of impatience in his voice?

"Vash I love you."

There had been a torturously long silence then. He hadn't responded until she had suddenly realized that his shoulders were shaking. She'd turned her head, watching him in hurt wonder. He was laughing? Tears had sprung to her eyes then (supposedly that being when her tears fell in her sleep, as well), her mouth hung open slightly in sickening disbelief.

"It would never work out, Meryl. Come on, you know that! We're just too different... love me? Please! I think your overlooking something here."

Had... he really? He had chuckled openly at that point, as if her stunned, painful silence was amusing to him. She had woken the next day, in that dream world, and he'd been gone, vanished without a trace.

As she thought back on it now, she knew that Vash would never do or say anything like that... would he? He was such a kind, warm person... could he actually be so cold? It had been a dream. No, it had been a nightmare, and nightmare's tended to corrupt the people you love, right? The real Vash wasn't like that. But...

Before she actually realized what she was doing, she found herself out of bed, her bare feet padding quietly across the floor. Still dressed in her nightgown (which, in all fairness, was more of just an oversized shirt), her feet led her to Vash's room, on something of their own accord, her hand reaching and seizing the doorknob. The utterly cold metal against her palm felt unreal, though it most entirely pierced her senses. She was awake now, and he was in there. No stupid stuff, alright? Get in, tell him, and get out. That was the plan.

She hesitated though, noting, almost stallingly, that her knuckles had gone white from the decent amount of pressure her fingers applied to the knob.

He's sleeping, Meryl.

He's recovering.

He won't hear you.

But still. Maybe this was the perfect time to tell him. If he couldn't hear her, then he couldn't reject her, and although she wouldn't have the pleasure of knowing how he felt, she'd still have the lingering comfort that she'd told him. She'd let him know.

In a way.

Her mind made up, she ever-so-slowly turned the knob, pausing in the doorway, gray eyes scanning the dark room. She could see him, tangled in the sheets laying on his back, his "artificial" arm settled over his stomach, his other hung off the mattress slightly.

She stood against the frame for a moment, admiring him from a far before proceding to tip-toe the short distance to his bed, crouching beside it. A very hesitant Meryl grasped his hand, noting how large it was compared to her own, and guided it back to the comfort of solid ground (well, solid mattress), though she held onto it, her fingers wrapping between his own.

Was this allowed? She knew it wasn't much, but they were only friends. If he even considered them that much. Her original plan had been to simply check on him, as she often did, make her confession, and leave him alone. Since when was carressing his hand and admiring his face under the filtered glow of moonlight become a part of it? Ah... it didn't matter. She couldn't help it. Besides, he wouldn't notice anyhow!

She watched him for a long time, prolonging this otherwise short visit. He was so beautiful (or was handsome more appropriate?), and his scar-laden body only added to that fact, in her own opinion. Her thumb brushed idly over the scar atop his hand on that thought, a soft smile tugging at the corner's of her lips. His hair was a mess, and stubble was growing along his cheeks and chin, but did that really make any difference? It was still Vash. She took a second to carefully brush away the rebellious gold strands that partially hid his sleeping face from her, smiling a bit more. Yes, still Vash.

For some reason, she didn't feel so nervous anymore, in fact, she felt rather calm, which she appreciated to no end. Without even thinking of what to say, she simply did, her voice a gentle whisper within a dark room, essentially whispered nothings.

"I really don't know when it started... my feeling this way, but I know it's been for a long time now. It hurts to keep it all in, but somehow I think you know the feeling, whether or not it's directed towards me."

She paused slightly, the smile that lit her face softening a bit, as she listened to his breathing. It sounded slightly irregular, but she was too caught-up-in-the-moment for the change to fully register in her mind.

"I know I should have told you before. Before this, but you have to understand.. I was just too scared. I know you deserved to know earlier, and it was rude on my part not to tell you--"

Her mindless (yet rather deep) ramblings were cut short and replaced with something that could have just barely passed as a strangled whisper of a scream. She tried to push herself away from the bed, but found that the hand she had been paying attention to, was now paying attention to her. His hand grasped hers with a strength she didn't know sleeping men possessed.. but then again, he didn't exactly seem to be sleeping, she realized as she stared into a pair of very-much-so awake turquoise eyes.

"Vash?! You're.. ah, you're awake??"

Oh God how long had he been awake? How much had he heard? How much had he listened to? Oh... God I'd forgotten how brilliant his eyes were...

"Meryl? Meryl where's Knives?"

Ah, yes. Welcome home, Vash! Nice to know you appreciate all the help... But his voice was so urgent, and his eyes tore at her, although his hand let her go, she leaning back the slightest bit to support herself.

"H-he's in the room, across the hall... sleeping, why?"

But, of course, she recieved no answer. The instant Vash knew the location of his brother, he'd lunged out of bed, the sheets caught around his leg unable to help but follow him a bit along the floor, before being cast away. She could hear the turning of a knob (had the metal felt as surreal to him as it had to her?), the protestant creaking of a swinging door, and the latch as it was likewise closed. Nothing else.

Minutes wore on as she sat there, still crouched, though leaning backwards this time, her gaze intent upon the window. She strained to hear something more, his voice echoing in her mind. That peaceful calm that she had become so enraptured with had entirely abandoned her, and once again she'd been left with that cold nervousness and uncertainty.

A rather heavy sigh (forged from the very pit of her heart) passed in her throat as she finally stood, gathering the sheets that he'd momentarily dragged off the bed with him in his hurry to address his brother, and set to work replacing them over the bed, adorning the mattress in them with a certain kind of care.

She scolded the burning sensation of tears and simply wouldn't allow this to get her. No. There was... there was time. A whispered choke tore from her throat as she ran out the last rather noticable wrinkle.

"...that I love you."

But he didn't hear her.