TWENTY-FOUR: over and over
Vash sat in silence, staring up at the Fifth Moon as his heart pounded. He remembered Morgante the Warhead, remembered how his cruel smile had left Vash with the strangest feeling in his gut. He wondered, briefly, why he wore the metallic optic over his right eye, though he suspected Knives had something to do with that hideous attribute. He knew only that the man was Meryl's father, though she had apparently gained all of her finer characteristics from her mother.
Morgante was nothing like his daughter. He had been as cold and calculating as Knives in his duty. The brains of the Gung-Ho Guns, he probably was Knives' equal when it came to IQ. He first saw the man 24 years ago, during the July incident. Back then, he had been young and reckless, despite his intelligence.
Lost in his memories, Vash touched the shoulder of his prosthetic arm. He had lost the real arm then, at July, moments before Knives had forced him to use the angel arm for the first time. His brother had pulled a powerful handgun and fired, the shot literally tearing the arm from his body. He remembered only bits and pieces of the time following, though he knew for certain that he had fired the angel arm.
A world of pain had resulted from a trip that had been meant as a pilgrimage in the memory of the woman who had brought him up. Rem had a family member that had been brought across the stars on one of the SEEDS ships, a man who lived in the city of July. Believing he had finally uncovered his last connection to a woman he so desperately cared for, he had raced across Gunsmoke.
It was his last journey as an unmarked man.
He lost his arm and fired the angel arm, raining pain and despair on the people of July. He hadn't killed a soul, but eventually the people were forced to turn on themselves, desperate to survive. He had hurt so many people, and it had broken his spirit. He couldn't remember exactly all that had happened during that time, but he knew enough.
He was given the nickname Vash the Stampede, the man who could topple entire cities in a matter of seconds. After that incident, his reputation preceded him, and any damage done in his presence—and some without—was quickly deemed the responsibility of the vicious, irresponsible, bloodthirsty outlaw, who eventually built up a bounty of sixty billion double-dollars.
He was wronged. He knew it, but he had no say in the matter. Trouble followed him around like a lonely puppy desperate for attention. There was no escaping the name, no escaping the reputation, no escaping the humiliation. People thought he was brutal and coldhearted. There was no truth in the reputation, but people don't always care to believe in truth. They believed whatever they damn well pleased, whether they desired it or it scared them shitless.
Back at July, Vash could vaguely recall Morgante the Warhead snatching up his arm and disappearing with it into the night. The next time he saw his arm, it had been attached to the shoulder of another Gung-Ho Gun, the ruthless Legato Bluesummers. Now he knew exactly what had happened to it between the time he had lost it and the time it had replaced Legato's left arm. The whole injustice made him shake with anger.
The next and last time Vash encountered Morgante had been about six months ago. Then, he had been a drunk in a tavern who had accidentally sat down to have a drink with the Humanoid Typhoon himself. The memory was a bitter one, as Vash had recalled his rugged, scarred face, though a little older and wearier than he remembered, still carried the same hateful, grim expression. There was only one major difference: the whole right side of his face had been brutally scarred, apparently by some manner of explosion, and the right eye had been replaced by a cybernetic eyepiece.
He had learned Morgante's real name during that encounter, and he had carried it with him, wondering if he was somehow related to the woman who had been following Vash around for several years now.
He had decided it was his responsibility to figure out if the little woman, formerly a representative of the Bernardeli Insurance Society, was in fact the daughter of a ruthless, murderous member of the Gung-Ho Guns. In time, he had come to know, to understand. He knew what he had to do. He had to defend this world, the world that would not defend him, from the man who would destroy it because of him.
From the campsite, he heard a cry from the camp. A soft but unmistakable word drifted to him from the campsite. "No!"
He did not turn.
Meryl.
A short time later, he heard her footsteps padding out over the desert. He turned to watch her, but didn't rise. Something in the way she walked told him she didn't want to talk about it. She would be coming his way if she really wanted company, but she wasn't coming his way.
Closing his eyes, Vash sighed. What was wrong now?
So many mistakes had marked his path, since the beginning of his life. He closed his eyes, wishing he could take so many of them back, but understanding the necessity of the lessons they taught. He had to defend himself from making those same mistakes over again; if he didn't learn from them, there would be no purpose for the lessons at all.
.... .... x .... ....
"What the hell is wrong with you, Vash?"
Knives found his brother in Rem's study, cradling the broken stems in his arm, tears welling up in his eyes. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."
"Vash, what…?" Knives stepped to his side and peered down to the shattered glass covered the floor. He suddenly understood the mass of red in Vash's hands. "That's Rem's geranium."
He brushed a long strand of silver-blond hair from his eyes, shaking his head. Rem's precious geranium. It was hopeless for the little plant now. The pedals were strewn about, and glass covered the floor in the crew lounge. There'd be no hiding this crime.
"Wow, what a mess. What happened?"
"I was just looking. I wanted to touch it, but I slipped…" Vash clenched his eyes shut, tears pouring freely. Knives took a look at the stool next to his brother; the leg had apparently snapped beneath Vash's weight. "I fell down and dropped it. Honest, I didn't want to do it. I was just looking!"
Knives knelt at Vash's side. "She won't be mad," he said gently. "I don't think there's an angry gene in her entire genetic makeup." He lay a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Remember the rosebud tree? Just tell her what you told me. She'll forgive you, okay? I don't think there's anyone more forgiving."
"But Rem's flowers…"
"You didn't do it on purpose. She'll understand."
"She'll be sad," Vash whispered, gazing to the dead flower.
Knives shook his head and sighed heavily. He turned to walk away. "You're hopeless, brother."
.... .... x .... ....
Vash glanced back as Meryl walked deeper into the desert, further from the campsite. He started to worry a little. He didn't think it was such a good idea to wander so far from the camp.
He sighed, thinking back to the flower he had accidentally destroyed. As Knives had predicted, Rem hadn't yelled at him. She had hugged him and thanked him for his honesty. She had gently wiped his tears away with her thumb.
You're such a baby! I told you, I could never be angry with you, Vash. There is purity in your heart and that makes me happy.
"Everybody makes mistakes," he whispered, remembering the advice of his beloved, fallen Rem Saverem. "A person's ability to accept the truth of mistake is just one fork in the road to understanding. You have so much to offer the world. One mistake isn't worth shutting away all those abilities."
.... .... x .... ....
"You're hopeless, brother."
Vash stared at Knives with distrust. It had been several months since he'd decided he would never trust the killer again.
Knives sighed. "Come on and eat. We have to build up our strength. I think we're going to have to do some digging."
"Digging?"
"Sure. A SEEDS ship crash-landed out here somewhere. You feel it, don't you?"
Vash closed his eyes and nodded. Of course he felt it. The plant was fully operational, and it was close.
"What're we gonna do when we get there?"
"You'll see."
.... .... x .... ....
Vash rose. He was through staring up at his past. What Knives had shown him that day, three years after the downfall of Project SEEDS and Rem's death, was one of the few blessings of their days together on this miserable world. Proof that there was a heart beating somewhere inside that iron chest.
He walked toward the figure on the horizon. Meryl had wandered a little too far out for comfort.
She stared off, hugging her arms to her chest and pulling herself together. It was a cool night, cooler than she remembered for some time. Back before anyone had been in pain, before any of this had ever happened. Back before she had worried at all about Vash the Stampede.
I promise, Mom. If I run into any dangerous men out there, I'll run the other way as fast as I can, alright?
She had never intended to keep that promise, breaking it for the first time when she had taken the assignment to locate and observe a man the likes of Vash the Stampede, and like an innocent child she had wanted to know more about him. Though Vash wasn't exactly the type of person her mother had feared, he was dangerous all the same. Now again she was breaking that promise, as she headed off to find a man who had promised her certain death. The same man who had told her to go off and make him proud time and time again.
Who are you?
She asked the question over and over again, but there was no answer for her. Not yet. Of all the things in life that Meryl had thought she would become a part of, this was never one of them. She didn't know who her father was, and at the same time she had thought so much of him for so long. Richard Stryfe, men like Legato Bluesummers and Midvalley Hornfreak and all the other Gung-Ho Guns? She didn't want to believe it, but she knew with all her heart that Vash had spoken the truth.
So many of the things she had done in her life had been for the one and only Richard Stryfe. She momentarily wished she had never left home, never done anything for the man she called her father. But then she might not have met Milly, and she certainly would never have known the man who occupied so much of her heart. When she thought about it, wondering at all that she had been through and was going through and would go through, she realized that given a second chance she would have done it all again.
Over and over again.
.... .... x .... ....
"Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you, Meryl?"
"Daddy? Daddy, you're back!" A sixteen-year-old spitfire leapt into her father's arms, wrapping herself around his thick barrel of a neck. "You're not going to go away again, are you? Promise you won't!"
"Now Meryl, you know Daddy has work he must go off and do now and then, but don't I always come home and bring you back a trip every time?" He grinned and pulled out a small package from behind the pocket of his shirt.
Meryl grinned and tore at the package, ripping the silver wrapping paper to shreds to get at the tiny box within. "Oh Daddy! It's beautiful!" She pulled a tiny, ivory cross from the box. She held it out for him to put on her.
He smiled and made a twirling motion with his finger for her to turn around, and once she did he locked the chain into place around her neck. "Now you be careful with that for me, alright?" He spun her around for him to face her and placed a delicate kiss on her nose. "It holds the key to the entire world in it."
.... .... x .... ....
He stopped a good ten paces behind her, gazing quietly, longingly. She seemed so deep in thought that he didn't want to interfere, but he also feared for her safety. She shouldn't wander so far from camp.
He took a few more steps before he opened his mouth to speak to her.
.... .... x .... ....
"What is this place?" Vash asked his brother.
"Yeah. It's different from the others."
"That's not what I said."
Knives smirked. "I know."
He slipped deeper into the corridor. Vash followed.
"This is just a shuttle," Knives explained. "It must have lagged behind, because it's only been here a couple years."
"I don't think we're supposed to be here."
"Relax. We're the only ones here."
"That's what scares me, Knives."
.... .... x .... ....
The thought of his mistake all those years ago ate at his conscience as he approached her.
"Hey, can we talk?" He came closer and went to rest his hands on her shoulders. A soft wind came upon them, enveloping them in its chilly touch, lifting his coat up a little. The world stood still as he watched the wind play with her long, flowing hair.
Meryl closed her eyes and sighed softly as she felt the gentle weight of his hands on her. "I think about it now and I wonder how I honestly couldn't have known," she admitted. "He was away all the time, so I never gave it a second thought."
He eyed her silently, wondering how much it must hurt.
"Mom used to be scared at every little thing I did. If I left the house, sometimes even if I played too close to the window. She used to say it wasn't safe. Now I understand why. She knew what he was. He was a danger to his entire family, and she was already too deeply involved with him to get out."
She sighed and turned her eyes up to his.
"How're you holding up?"
He slipped his arms around her waist. It was difficult for him to tell her the truth to that question, mostly because he didn't fully understand the emotions flowing through him. He had killed—no, he had executed—hundreds of his own brethren, yet he felt no guilt. He actually felt duress over his loss. It was as though he had been forgiven in every facet of the crime, and his heart understood.
He held her to him, thinking of the best way to put his answer. It came slowly as he carefully considered each word.
"I guess…better than I anticipated. It was easier than it should have been." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his face inches from her own as they gazed north, out over the blacked horizon to the dangers that awaited them. "They're in a better world now, a place where they will be cared for, where they'll never be used in some twisted man's tool of conquest."
Meryl was silent. He stood there, feeling the soft skin of her cheek against his own, as the memory of that his first passage through the SEEDS shuttle, 128 years ago, ran through him. He had seen the geo-plant then, had felt the life pulsating through the creature. Knives had wanted to destroy it, fearful of something that Vash couldn't see at the time. He had let it live, for Vash, for their species, though he had feared it was a mistake. Now, after all this time, Vash realized that the mistake had been his own.
"There are things you deserve, things that I want from life," he whispered, holding her close. "Things that apparently aren't meant to be."
By the way he held her, but the soft sound of his voice, she could sense the unspoken apology in his words. Soft lips ventured to her cheek, tempting her with their light touch.
You don't get it, Vash, Knives had said. Things happen that just can't be altered. When we make a mistake, we have to fess up and atone for our actions.
Knives words rang through him. They had been standing there, at the geo-plant, begging forgiveness for trapping the delicate creature on Gunsmoke.
And now they had come full circle, and the plant had died because of a mistake made so long ago, just like the geranium Vash had knocked from Rem's bookshelf that day over 131 years ago.
Meryl closed her eyes, and spoke softly after determining how best to respond. "I look out over the horizon, expecting to see death in so many of the faces waiting for me. But the image never comes." She turned around to face him and lifted her palm to trace the soft contour of his cheek. "All that I want, all that I ever wanted, is right here, holding me tight. It's all I need, Vash. Whatever waits for us out there, I'm ready. So many times we thought it was the end of our journey, and yet…we've always been wrong. Maybe this is the end, but then, maybe it's not. Maybe we shouldn't look at it as such." She turned her eyes to his and smiled. "We only have this moment to live in. No regrets. Not now, not ever. No matter what."
He listened to her, taking in her words like a thirsty sponge. He held her close to him, felt her melting into his embrace. He wanted so much more now than that simple kiss. That alone meant so much to him, that he could touch her in this way and know that she wanted it all and more.
Before Meryl, he'd been open to the ladies. He didn't hide the fact that he was eager to be commanded by beautiful women. But he'd never taken advantage of them.
It's really too bad. It's not everyday that you get to sleep with a man like that.
He'd heard the girl's words in the sand steam, what, two or so years ago? He'd acted as though he was passed out, but he had heard it all. As enticing as the possibilities seemed, as much as he would have enjoyed the moment, he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of any woman, even if they were hired to please him.
He held Meryl to his chest and found that her heart tempted him so much more than any of those other women. Perhaps it was that they had been friends for some time now, or that they truly shared a bond that was stronger than death. Maybe it was both.
"No regrets," he whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her, bringing his lips to hers. The unspoken promise followed: that they would be together through it all, that he wouldn't let her die, that he wouldn't die on her. He would protect them all, including Milly and Sean.
And, of course, that he loved her.
"Meryl." He kissed her one last time, and slipped from her side. "If you're through here, can we head back to camp? It's too cold to stand out here in the desert. Besides, the others may get worried."
Meryl looked out over the horizon for another moment, silently wondering at the things she would never have in life. She would never have her family again. Her father was already lost to the wild rantings of a lunatic. He was a Gung-Ho Gun. She knew that if Vash did not pull the trigger, she would. That meant going against everything she had said over a year ago to save Vash's life, but she didn't care. This time was no different. She would once again be fighting to save Vash, but now she would be taking another, if it came to that point. Taking one life to save another…was that really wrong, when the one she was saving was innocent and the one she was taking was not?
Meryl wasn't sure anymore.
Now that Meryl knew her had known what her father was, that she had been lying through her teeth to protect her, she couldn't help but feel some regret for having left. She could never hate her mother for all that had happened, because she knew that her mother had done everything in her married life out of love for her family. Still, things would never be the same for Meryl. If her father somehow succeeded in his plans, she would forever have that guilt on her. She refused to accept that, now or ever.
Slowly, she turned back to Vash. "Yes, I'm done." She gazed up at him with hidden fire in her eyes. Their time would come, she knew. They just had to be patient, something that never came easy for two people in love.