¤bursts forth from timestream leaving behind twin fire trails¤ Whoot! Here we are, back
where we last left Meryl. Time to see what happens! Dangit, I forgot the ice scraper and
the door jammed. ...is that a sand steamer?
Disclaimer: I like to make puns.
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 13: 'Psycho' Analysis
It was truly amazing how much of a difference a night's rest could make. Even if about half the night had been spent wide awake swinging between bouts of impotent rage and crying fits, the other half was still quite effective. Of course, that assumed it had been night- without windows it was hard to tell for sure, but the cold that creeped through the walls had that classic nighttime bite to it. The light going off and plunging the room into complete darkness also suggested as much. There was no warning, it just cut off to leave her to feel her way to the bunk. Leave it to some damn warden to decide that it was either glaring day or pitch black night with no room for a transition between. A sudden fear made her stomach churn- would she ever get to see a sunrise or sunset again? She tried to push it aside like the irrational reaction it was and tell herself that everything would be fine, but it just wouldn't go away. At least she had enough wits about her now to try and get back in control of her feelings.
She really should have known better. In hindsight, everything made too much sense. Of course they'd arrest her after learning of how much Vash looked up to her. After all, what better way to pin down the Humanoid Typhoon than taking hostage someone important to him? The old joke about the government being the biggest crook of all drifted through her head, but it wasn't funny anymore. How would he react? Would he give himself up for her? Would he try and rescue her? Would it finally push him over the edge and send him on a crusade with his brother to wipe out humanity? An image of Vash and Knives, side by side striding down the streets of a burning December appeared in her mind. Another wave of terror washed over her even as she tried to fight it back with logic and what she already knew. Vash would never do that. He might end up reducing the city to rubble with a crackpot scheme to get her out, but he would never kill over her. Then a memory of Legato's final moment surfaced, and the terror crashed over her again. It made her heave, but nothing came up. Thank goodness she hadn't eaten in a while.
This thinking was getting her nowhere. 'What ifs' were just that- things that may or may not happen. Obsessing over them was getting her nowhere. Then there was a sudden loud clang from outside, and the footsteps were back. She sat up as they got closer, running a hand through her hair to try and smooth away some of the tangles. The footsteps stopped outside the door and a squeak of keys in a lock came before it opened. There were those looks again. A mixture of fear, anger, and pity in varying quantities covered their faces. She stood up slowly and glared at them, noting that none of them would meet her gaze. The wardens had to eventually move, and she just wanted to get it over with already. She held up her hands and one of them snapped the manacles in place. Dangerous criminals had to be restrained, after all. As they led her through the hallway, she kept her head up and eyes fixed foreward. She tired from the effort before long even with the shortened gait from the bindings- it seemed the night hadn't done much good for her after all.
¤ ¤ ¤
They weren't in the maximum security wing anymore. She figured they must be getting into the visitor and administration areas, but there were still cells in the current hall. The occupants looked to be in for the short term since most of them still wore outside cloths, and a reek of alcohol let her know that this particular cell must be the drunk tank. However, there had been one recurring theme as they moved through the prison- all the prisoners would grow quiet and watch her pass by. She could see the fear in the eyes of some, but in a lot of eyes she was seeing something new- respect, even admiration. Somehow, it was even worse than the anger and pity. What were the rumors like if she was being looked up to by hardened criminals? Vash's sixty billion double dollar bounty and the multitude of horrific stories she had heard about him were making more sense now. The rumor mill was truly vicious once it started, and she was torn between wanting to know the rumors, and not wanting to know. No wonder Vash had never been very interested in knowing the stories told about him.
They entered yet another corridor, that for once wasn't filled with cells but instead with regular doors. They stopped before one, and one of her escorts opened it for her. The room was fairly drab, and reminded her of her apartment- functional, but that was it. As a meeting room it had everything that might be required but not a single thing extra. Still no windows, but at least the electric sun was recessed into the ceiling over the table so it wasn't a source of irritation. There were two people waiting at the table, one woman and one man. The man moved with a great deal of precision and looked quite neat in his suit- he was probably the lawyer the company had gotten for her. The woman was more casual and gave her a friendly smile. She locked onto it, as it was the first time in a while that anyone had given her a real, honest to goodness smile. Then her own lips were tugged down as she realized that this was probably the psychologist Mr. Bernardelli had mentioned. She had a nametag on- Sara T. Rose. "Well Ms. Rose, I hope they didn't waste too much money on you."
Her lawyer lept into action right away, demanding that his client be unchained then asking her a number of basic questions. She answered in monosyllables, taking a dislike to him already. He was too squinty and hadn't even said hello. To him, she was probably going to be the cornerstone of his entire career. She was nothing more than a major case to be won by him, and it was clear that he had no interest in anything that wasn't related to that. However, if he could get her out, she could tolerate him. He eventually muttered something to her about seeing the prison chief while rifling through his notes, then he was out the door.
That left her with the psychologist. She offered up a small glass of water with that disarming smile and introduced herself. Her voice was warm and the tone inviting.
"Hello Ms. Stryfe, I'm Dr. Rose, but you can call me Sara."
She took the glass of water with a nod, then downed it before responding. "Thanks for the water, but I really don't need to have my head examined."
"You sound quite sure of that. I do wonder though, how did you figure out I was a psychologist so quickly?"
"Nothing special. When they brought me in they said I was a genocidal maniac made that way by a thorough brain-soaking by the Humanoid Typhoon. That guy was the lawyer, so that left you to be the psychologist."
"Well, brain-soaked or not, you're still quite sharp."
There was a long pause after that, with the good doctor keeping her under that smile. It was wearing her down quickly with that sort of persistence. Well, she was the first openly friendly person she'd met since arriving in the city, so no sense wasting this chance.
"So... Why me? I've seen how they look at me. The lawmen want me dead, gone, or locked away forever, and the criminals look to be almost ready to start offering up tribute to curry favor. Why the hell did you take me?"
"Because you need help, and we should always help out others if we can."
"But I don't need help-"
"You're scared, hurt, angry and nobody will listen to you. You need help."
Well, looks like Mr. Bernardelli meant it when he said the very best psychologists, or was she really that transparent right now? In any case, the stewing caldron of feelings finally bubbled over and she began to spill her troubles at the feet of this person.
"Why are they doing this to me? I haven't done anything they say I have! Those lousy bastards are just so frustrated in their hunt for Vash that anyone near him will do!"
"Well, yes... People do strange things when scared, and in a group that fear can bounce and multiply. Before you know it, those fears have a form full of big sharp teeth and claws that lurks under the bed. That's what's happened to you. The people heard that you helped Vash, and so many couldn't see it for the wonderful selfless thing it was. That's when the 'I think' opinions started, which quickly turned into 'I heard' stories, which then became the 'truth'. It's all very sad."
Now they were both staring down at the table into their respective glasses. It was a scene right out of any bar, if she ignored what she was wearing. They stayed like that for a bit, until curiosity finally won out.
"So, just what is the 'truth' they've created?"
"They say that you're Derringer Meryl, who's always by the Typhoon's side, able to slaughter fifty men in fifty seconds... A remorseless killer who enjoys every life taken, whose beauty entices souls to hell, and the Typhoon's lover and trusted lieutenant. Something new seems to be added every time the story's told."
That was the story? It was ludicrous! Completely outrageous, beyond all rational thought! She began to laugh at the absurdity of it all, a long hard laugh. She was laughing so hard it was starting to force out tears, and she could barely manage to breath in. She bent over and pounded the table, it was so funny!
Then she noticed that she wasn't laughing anymore. She was sobbing, great big sobs right into the table. Her fist slammed down once more and went limp as her whole body shook. Right then and there, she wanted Vash to burst in and hold her tight and say everything would be all right, because she just didn't know anymore. She didn't know anything anymore. The sobs eventually stilled and her eyes ran dry.
"What's the truth? The real truth?"
What was the truth, indeed? Her mouth moved of its own accord. "I love him."
Had she said that? She had said that. It was the truth. Buried inside her, covered up by layer after layer of worry and dread that had started to pile up the moment she had boarded the steamer to December. Now all of that was burned off as that core truth shined out again. Not long ago, she had sworn to herself that she would claw her way through hell to get back to Vash, and now she had to do just that. She was so wrapped up in internal rebuilding that she almost missed what the doctor said.
"Then everything will be fine!"
She smiled at that, glad to be able to do so again. "Are you sure? It pretty much blows the whole brainwashing bit out the window."
"Well, yes, I'm not sure what they'll do at the trial now. However, I think it's wonderful that you can love someone so much, as long as you act on your love you can do no wrong."
What a nice, simple thing to say. "I guess I'll have to figure out something to defend myself with. There's only one real charge anyway, and it's a small one. However, now I have a question... Why did you do what you did instead of trying to support that idiotic brainwashing theory?"
"Because you needed help, real help, and I just couldn't ignore that. You can't just forget the truth."
"And how did you know the truth? The stories could have been true. For all you know, they could still be true."
"Because my little sister told me!"
"Little sister? It couldn't be..." "Your middle initial... it wouldn't happen to stand for Thompson, would it?"
That smile was back, and it was all the answer she needed. It must run in the family. Sadly, they were out of time, and probably had been for a while. She idly wondered why her escorts hadn't burst in yet. Of course, if they had, they would have gotten The Look from Sara, and that would have qualified as cruel and unusual. Thank god for the Milly Monthly!
"I know someone who might be able to help, she's a sheriff who has an outstanding record and I believe she can make a difference."
"Thanks."
¤ ¤ ¤
They were escorting her back through the prison. This time around, everyone was looking at her with at least some fear. It wasn't often that they'd see someone bound and escorted like she was, yet still managing to smirk. Right then, she didn't give a damn what they thought, only her friends' feelings mattered and the rest of them could go stick their heads in a Thomas's feeding trough. Her cell felt less oppressive once they finally stuck her back in it. Of course, it was only a matter of time before she was out.
They brought her a meal not much later that she devoured. She was really quite hungry, which was good because the food was horrible. Burnt and raw- a rare and hard to accomplish feat. However, food was food and she needed it, so taste buds were overruled. After that, she stretched out on the bunk and set about getting some real rest. Not even the evil little lightbulb sun could stop her.
Woo-ha! There's a moral to this chapter: If you need help on Gunsmoke, go see a Thompson.
Legato: Such a pity... I was enjoying the events so much, and it was ruined by a happy ending. Only Master may have those.
Gee, that's too bad. They could still execute her if that'll make you feel better. Now go to your room!
Legato: What are these things doing in here?
Er, nothing! ¤shoves and locks door¤ Well, next chapter we'll get more of what I promised last chapter. We'll also see another familiar face, try and guess who.
Wolfwood: Me?
I SAID NO! ¤waves The Stick¤
Reviewer Responses
SapphireWhiteTiggress: There are a few chapters worth of Meryl action to go, so it'll take a while before the gang is together again- if they're together again!
betsytheripper: Oddly enough, my current job has me stocking pop-tarts every night. I forwarded the items to Legato, and you can have this copy of his room key. Only use it (ir)responsibly!
cjflutterbye: That truck is sadly kaput, but never fear! Knives will be working on many other things of a mechanical nature, some of which will require many hours of effort to fix. Shirtless. Under the suns.
Sorian: Yeah, but you'll have to take a number. Legato's pretty popular.
Yma: Heh, I can't get everything right, though I thought that BDN was about right considering the guy smokes sparklers. Ah well, no point quibbling a quibble, I'll take my Knives and be arrogant.
coffeetin: Well, you'll just have to wait and see, but I do have Evil planned. As for the Gunsmoke government, well, they will be causing trouble in a big way, but probably not when and how you'd expect.
kitsune: ¤blushes, stammers¤ Well, I, uh, that is to say... ¤wanders off in a daze sounding like a broken record¤
Disclaimer: I like to make puns.
Chapter 13: 'Psycho' Analysis
It was truly amazing how much of a difference a night's rest could make. Even if about half the night had been spent wide awake swinging between bouts of impotent rage and crying fits, the other half was still quite effective. Of course, that assumed it had been night- without windows it was hard to tell for sure, but the cold that creeped through the walls had that classic nighttime bite to it. The light going off and plunging the room into complete darkness also suggested as much. There was no warning, it just cut off to leave her to feel her way to the bunk. Leave it to some damn warden to decide that it was either glaring day or pitch black night with no room for a transition between. A sudden fear made her stomach churn- would she ever get to see a sunrise or sunset again? She tried to push it aside like the irrational reaction it was and tell herself that everything would be fine, but it just wouldn't go away. At least she had enough wits about her now to try and get back in control of her feelings.
She really should have known better. In hindsight, everything made too much sense. Of course they'd arrest her after learning of how much Vash looked up to her. After all, what better way to pin down the Humanoid Typhoon than taking hostage someone important to him? The old joke about the government being the biggest crook of all drifted through her head, but it wasn't funny anymore. How would he react? Would he give himself up for her? Would he try and rescue her? Would it finally push him over the edge and send him on a crusade with his brother to wipe out humanity? An image of Vash and Knives, side by side striding down the streets of a burning December appeared in her mind. Another wave of terror washed over her even as she tried to fight it back with logic and what she already knew. Vash would never do that. He might end up reducing the city to rubble with a crackpot scheme to get her out, but he would never kill over her. Then a memory of Legato's final moment surfaced, and the terror crashed over her again. It made her heave, but nothing came up. Thank goodness she hadn't eaten in a while.
This thinking was getting her nowhere. 'What ifs' were just that- things that may or may not happen. Obsessing over them was getting her nowhere. Then there was a sudden loud clang from outside, and the footsteps were back. She sat up as they got closer, running a hand through her hair to try and smooth away some of the tangles. The footsteps stopped outside the door and a squeak of keys in a lock came before it opened. There were those looks again. A mixture of fear, anger, and pity in varying quantities covered their faces. She stood up slowly and glared at them, noting that none of them would meet her gaze. The wardens had to eventually move, and she just wanted to get it over with already. She held up her hands and one of them snapped the manacles in place. Dangerous criminals had to be restrained, after all. As they led her through the hallway, she kept her head up and eyes fixed foreward. She tired from the effort before long even with the shortened gait from the bindings- it seemed the night hadn't done much good for her after all.
They weren't in the maximum security wing anymore. She figured they must be getting into the visitor and administration areas, but there were still cells in the current hall. The occupants looked to be in for the short term since most of them still wore outside cloths, and a reek of alcohol let her know that this particular cell must be the drunk tank. However, there had been one recurring theme as they moved through the prison- all the prisoners would grow quiet and watch her pass by. She could see the fear in the eyes of some, but in a lot of eyes she was seeing something new- respect, even admiration. Somehow, it was even worse than the anger and pity. What were the rumors like if she was being looked up to by hardened criminals? Vash's sixty billion double dollar bounty and the multitude of horrific stories she had heard about him were making more sense now. The rumor mill was truly vicious once it started, and she was torn between wanting to know the rumors, and not wanting to know. No wonder Vash had never been very interested in knowing the stories told about him.
They entered yet another corridor, that for once wasn't filled with cells but instead with regular doors. They stopped before one, and one of her escorts opened it for her. The room was fairly drab, and reminded her of her apartment- functional, but that was it. As a meeting room it had everything that might be required but not a single thing extra. Still no windows, but at least the electric sun was recessed into the ceiling over the table so it wasn't a source of irritation. There were two people waiting at the table, one woman and one man. The man moved with a great deal of precision and looked quite neat in his suit- he was probably the lawyer the company had gotten for her. The woman was more casual and gave her a friendly smile. She locked onto it, as it was the first time in a while that anyone had given her a real, honest to goodness smile. Then her own lips were tugged down as she realized that this was probably the psychologist Mr. Bernardelli had mentioned. She had a nametag on- Sara T. Rose. "Well Ms. Rose, I hope they didn't waste too much money on you."
Her lawyer lept into action right away, demanding that his client be unchained then asking her a number of basic questions. She answered in monosyllables, taking a dislike to him already. He was too squinty and hadn't even said hello. To him, she was probably going to be the cornerstone of his entire career. She was nothing more than a major case to be won by him, and it was clear that he had no interest in anything that wasn't related to that. However, if he could get her out, she could tolerate him. He eventually muttered something to her about seeing the prison chief while rifling through his notes, then he was out the door.
That left her with the psychologist. She offered up a small glass of water with that disarming smile and introduced herself. Her voice was warm and the tone inviting.
"Hello Ms. Stryfe, I'm Dr. Rose, but you can call me Sara."
She took the glass of water with a nod, then downed it before responding. "Thanks for the water, but I really don't need to have my head examined."
"You sound quite sure of that. I do wonder though, how did you figure out I was a psychologist so quickly?"
"Nothing special. When they brought me in they said I was a genocidal maniac made that way by a thorough brain-soaking by the Humanoid Typhoon. That guy was the lawyer, so that left you to be the psychologist."
"Well, brain-soaked or not, you're still quite sharp."
There was a long pause after that, with the good doctor keeping her under that smile. It was wearing her down quickly with that sort of persistence. Well, she was the first openly friendly person she'd met since arriving in the city, so no sense wasting this chance.
"So... Why me? I've seen how they look at me. The lawmen want me dead, gone, or locked away forever, and the criminals look to be almost ready to start offering up tribute to curry favor. Why the hell did you take me?"
"Because you need help, and we should always help out others if we can."
"But I don't need help-"
"You're scared, hurt, angry and nobody will listen to you. You need help."
Well, looks like Mr. Bernardelli meant it when he said the very best psychologists, or was she really that transparent right now? In any case, the stewing caldron of feelings finally bubbled over and she began to spill her troubles at the feet of this person.
"Why are they doing this to me? I haven't done anything they say I have! Those lousy bastards are just so frustrated in their hunt for Vash that anyone near him will do!"
"Well, yes... People do strange things when scared, and in a group that fear can bounce and multiply. Before you know it, those fears have a form full of big sharp teeth and claws that lurks under the bed. That's what's happened to you. The people heard that you helped Vash, and so many couldn't see it for the wonderful selfless thing it was. That's when the 'I think' opinions started, which quickly turned into 'I heard' stories, which then became the 'truth'. It's all very sad."
Now they were both staring down at the table into their respective glasses. It was a scene right out of any bar, if she ignored what she was wearing. They stayed like that for a bit, until curiosity finally won out.
"So, just what is the 'truth' they've created?"
"They say that you're Derringer Meryl, who's always by the Typhoon's side, able to slaughter fifty men in fifty seconds... A remorseless killer who enjoys every life taken, whose beauty entices souls to hell, and the Typhoon's lover and trusted lieutenant. Something new seems to be added every time the story's told."
That was the story? It was ludicrous! Completely outrageous, beyond all rational thought! She began to laugh at the absurdity of it all, a long hard laugh. She was laughing so hard it was starting to force out tears, and she could barely manage to breath in. She bent over and pounded the table, it was so funny!
Then she noticed that she wasn't laughing anymore. She was sobbing, great big sobs right into the table. Her fist slammed down once more and went limp as her whole body shook. Right then and there, she wanted Vash to burst in and hold her tight and say everything would be all right, because she just didn't know anymore. She didn't know anything anymore. The sobs eventually stilled and her eyes ran dry.
"What's the truth? The real truth?"
What was the truth, indeed? Her mouth moved of its own accord. "I love him."
Had she said that? She had said that. It was the truth. Buried inside her, covered up by layer after layer of worry and dread that had started to pile up the moment she had boarded the steamer to December. Now all of that was burned off as that core truth shined out again. Not long ago, she had sworn to herself that she would claw her way through hell to get back to Vash, and now she had to do just that. She was so wrapped up in internal rebuilding that she almost missed what the doctor said.
"Then everything will be fine!"
She smiled at that, glad to be able to do so again. "Are you sure? It pretty much blows the whole brainwashing bit out the window."
"Well, yes, I'm not sure what they'll do at the trial now. However, I think it's wonderful that you can love someone so much, as long as you act on your love you can do no wrong."
What a nice, simple thing to say. "I guess I'll have to figure out something to defend myself with. There's only one real charge anyway, and it's a small one. However, now I have a question... Why did you do what you did instead of trying to support that idiotic brainwashing theory?"
"Because you needed help, real help, and I just couldn't ignore that. You can't just forget the truth."
"And how did you know the truth? The stories could have been true. For all you know, they could still be true."
"Because my little sister told me!"
"Little sister? It couldn't be..." "Your middle initial... it wouldn't happen to stand for Thompson, would it?"
That smile was back, and it was all the answer she needed. It must run in the family. Sadly, they were out of time, and probably had been for a while. She idly wondered why her escorts hadn't burst in yet. Of course, if they had, they would have gotten The Look from Sara, and that would have qualified as cruel and unusual. Thank god for the Milly Monthly!
"I know someone who might be able to help, she's a sheriff who has an outstanding record and I believe she can make a difference."
"Thanks."
They were escorting her back through the prison. This time around, everyone was looking at her with at least some fear. It wasn't often that they'd see someone bound and escorted like she was, yet still managing to smirk. Right then, she didn't give a damn what they thought, only her friends' feelings mattered and the rest of them could go stick their heads in a Thomas's feeding trough. Her cell felt less oppressive once they finally stuck her back in it. Of course, it was only a matter of time before she was out.
They brought her a meal not much later that she devoured. She was really quite hungry, which was good because the food was horrible. Burnt and raw- a rare and hard to accomplish feat. However, food was food and she needed it, so taste buds were overruled. After that, she stretched out on the bunk and set about getting some real rest. Not even the evil little lightbulb sun could stop her.
Woo-ha! There's a moral to this chapter: If you need help on Gunsmoke, go see a Thompson.
Legato: Such a pity... I was enjoying the events so much, and it was ruined by a happy ending. Only Master may have those.
Gee, that's too bad. They could still execute her if that'll make you feel better. Now go to your room!
Legato: What are these things doing in here?
Er, nothing! ¤shoves and locks door¤ Well, next chapter we'll get more of what I promised last chapter. We'll also see another familiar face, try and guess who.
Wolfwood: Me?
I SAID NO! ¤waves The Stick¤
SapphireWhiteTiggress: There are a few chapters worth of Meryl action to go, so it'll take a while before the gang is together again- if they're together again!
betsytheripper: Oddly enough, my current job has me stocking pop-tarts every night. I forwarded the items to Legato, and you can have this copy of his room key. Only use it (ir)responsibly!
cjflutterbye: That truck is sadly kaput, but never fear! Knives will be working on many other things of a mechanical nature, some of which will require many hours of effort to fix. Shirtless. Under the suns.
Sorian: Yeah, but you'll have to take a number. Legato's pretty popular.
Yma: Heh, I can't get everything right, though I thought that BDN was about right considering the guy smokes sparklers. Ah well, no point quibbling a quibble, I'll take my Knives and be arrogant.
coffeetin: Well, you'll just have to wait and see, but I do have Evil planned. As for the Gunsmoke government, well, they will be causing trouble in a big way, but probably not when and how you'd expect.
kitsune: ¤blushes, stammers¤ Well, I, uh, that is to say... ¤wanders off in a daze sounding like a broken record¤