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Chapter 26
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It was morning; the day after Meryl had awoken from the feverish sleep Knives had forced her into. A day after the nightmare had fully revealed itself and she had found she was doomed. The living dead on her last legs. Waiting, waiting.
Today was the day they had planned to go gallivanting off in search of Knives's castle, a place where only Vash could lead them. And just as they had planned, it was slowly happening. They just needed a mode of transportation first, because in this case walking just wouldn't do it.
Wolfwood, the priest, had left to pick up the carriage and horses that would bring them through the winding roads and muddy gravel paths across the greening and rolling English countryside to their destination.
They were just waiting.
Vash sat stiffly on the bed he had taken up in Meryl's residence. He had been sitting there for the past half hour in the company of the steady pitter-patter of the rain falling outside. He ignored the thin silver rivulets of water running down the windowpane, their edges ringed with condensation from the heat and warmth of the house. Milly had told him she couldn't stand cold houses and had then insisted on stoking up every hearth and using every chimney to keep all the rooms warm.
Not that he minded. It was a nice change from the frigid place Meryl kept without company over.
He enjoyed the warmth; it reminded him that he could feel. It reminded him of that small human part of him still hidden inside, longing for the warmth. It reminded him that he was not totally lost to the need for blood, which helped him more than he cared to admit nowadays.
Lately, he could feel the strength steadily waning from his tired and worn body. He was feeling ever year his age, one hundred thirty five. It was becoming a chore, tiring, but he continued to tell himself that it was almost over. Meryl, Milly and Wolfwood had been searching for the cure Knives held locked away for years now, hadn't they? It was supposed to be a miracle, something only a vampire like himself would want, and a group like Meryl's to long for. It was something only those with the greatest imaginations could fathom, meant to save the world from evil.
It seemed like a dream. An unreachable dream. Even now he didn't know how they would get to it, into the castle, under Knives's nose. It was near impossible.
But the petite woman had a terrible need for it now. It was made out to cure any illness, the un-dead, the near un-dead. He wondered if she longed for it like he did, dreamed of the cure to his curse…
A sudden sharp knocking on his door caused him to jump slightly, his sea-green eyes—previously hooded with sleep—darting up from the floorboards to the door. He cleared his throat slightly and rolled his shoulders, wondering whom it could be. Had Wolfwood brought the carriage back already?
"Come in!" he called out, voice wavering slightly, sleep wanting nothing more than to claim him and take him for its own.
He watched at the doorknob turned and the door opened, revealing none other than Meryl Stryfe herself.
Speak of the devil… his mind murmured lightly. She seemed to pop up at the strangest times…
He forced himself to concentrate and raised his eyebrows at the woman, asking his question with his eyes. Her own steely grey gaze narrowed at him, the sides of her lips twisting into a small frown. It was a familiar frown, one directed at him more than he cared to count.
Vash hadn't spoken to her since dinner the night before, preferring to seclude himself from the company of the three humans lest he do something stupid. Namely trying to bite Meryl. She wouldn't be able to handle that kind of stress, he knew. He wasn't stupid. He knew what the bite did to humans, it tortured them and haunted them, stinging and biting like a terrible flesh wound that would never heal.
There was silence in the warm room, and he decided to speak when she showed no intention of starting conversation. Vash figured she must have had something to say, though, since she had gone through all the effort of coming to his room—her room, the guest room.
"You can shut the door behind you, if you want," he started casually, not sure if he was merely trying to be polite or was trying to get a rise out of her. She wasn't fool enough to stay in a room alone with him, not after he had nearly succeeded in sinking his fangs into her neck…
So, he was more than surprised when she nodded stiffly and closed the door firmly shut behind her. He watched in silence, slightly confused, as she leaned her back onto the hard surface. She met his inquiring gaze levelly, daring him to speak.
Vash knew better than to spark the fuse leading to her temper.
Instead, he tried his best at pleasant conversation. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, however, so he might have sounded rougher and more clipped than usual. His patience was getting away, that was why, and he wanted to get going. All the waiting was getting to him.
"Can I help you with something, shorty?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the petite woman.
To his utmost shock, she actually smiled. Although he couldn't exactly place the smile. Was it angry, amused, genuine? All three?
"Actually, Vash, I've been meaning to speak with you. I haven't gotten the time to get a word in with Milly around, though…" she started, and trailed off a moment as if she wasn't sure she should continue.
Vash pursed his lips suddenly. Why was he suddenly getting a feeling of unpleasant unease in his stomach?
"What is it?" he asked, almost hesitantly, putting up his best childish face in hopes of warding off any sudden attacks. Who was she to attack the picture of innocence?
Meryl stared at him for a moment. Simply gazed at him continually, not moving, not speaking. He flinched under her inspection, and she snapped to attention, looking slightly wary.
He was glad he wasn't the only one.
"It occurred to me a while ago…" she began slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "I assume you've met Knives before?"
Vash felt his stomach twist into several unpleasantly tight knots, and he eyed her a moment before shaking his head slowly, blonde hair flopping slightly. He told himself it wasn't a good idea to put himself in the spotlight with Knives. It was better that she had no clue they had met, no less related. The feeling of treading on thin ice remained with him, however.
Meryl's eyes narrowed, and any hesitation she might have had slowly dissolved, leaving nothing but five feet of unconvinced, angry woman. She recalled her dream, the knife that had betrayed Vash, the brother that had betrayed Vash. She recalled how he had smiled as blood ran down her neck, bright eyes happy and calm. She recalled the words Knives had whispered into her ear just before he sunk his filthy fangs into her flesh, the things he had told her. Vash loved humans, and as much as that kept her from hurting the man, she could still feel anger. Anger was simple. She felt anger towards Milly when she was too persistent, to Nicholas when he was prodding. To Vash when he was lying.
"Well, that's strange, Vash. I could have sworn you two knew each other. Friend's maybe?" she asked, and the half-blood felt his heart drop.
She knew, she knew, she knew, she knew!
He was going to die! She was going to pull out a stake and ram it through his heart! That's why she closed the door behind her, so Milly wouldn't be bothered with the disturbed screams emitting from the room as he slowly faded into a pile of dead ashes and dust!
Vash imagined he looked like a deer caught in the middle of clearing full of hunters, for Meryl's stance relaxed slightly and she took a deep breath. He, however, could feel his stomach pull in on itself, and he waited for the inevitable flash of silver or glimpse of wood. Resolutely, his eyes snapped shut as he waited for the pain.
It never came.
And he had never felt so hesitant over anything in his life, but he managed to crack open an eye and wonder where impending doom had gotten to all of a sudden. Instead, in the place of impending doom was a sombre looking Meryl. The difference between the two was somewhat lost on the half-blood. She was gazing down at him with an unreadable expression, her eyes guarded. He didn't like that look, it was so cold.
Shifting backwards on the bed, Vash blinked several times with his gaze not straying from her face. What was wrong with this woman? How could someone be so threatening without even doing anything?
He imagined they must have stared at each other for a good few minutes before either of them spoke up, both knowing that the other knew exactly what had brought Meryl to his room. The question of Knives and Vash's relation with him. After all, how could two people who had never met look so alike and know so much about each other.
Vash opened his mouth to speak, the silence broken only by the rain weighing heavily upon his shoulders. It took him a moment to find his voice, the surprise he was feeling clearly evident on his pale features, he was sure.
"I…I don't know what to say…" he said, almost in a whisper, fingers twitching nervously at his side.
"Then answer me a question," she replied evenly, her eyes not betraying a single emotion she was feeling. Oh, and the confliction thoughts and tangle of things she was feeling!
Vash hesitated. Wasn't he supposed to be the one wearing the masks? But even as that question popped into his head he nodded slowly.
"Were you ever planning on telling any of us that you were related to Knives, his brother no less? I'm sure Wolfwood would have found this information terribly interesting, Vash, and Milly. I wonder how she would react," Meryl wondered, pursing her lips at the vampire, almost feeling bad for him.
Vash felt his eyebrow twitch as guilt outweighing the silence settled comfortably on his shoulders, forcing him down. What would they say? How would they react? Would they hate him for keeping it to himself? Would they be afraid of him? He averted his gaze from the small woman, feeling a familiar stinging behind his eyes that he had grown accustomed to during his life. He cried for himself, for everyone around him, for Knives, whom no matter how much help he received, it was never enough.
He held back the tears, though, long enough to answer the woman's question as she stared down upon him, unpitying.
Shaking his head, he gathered his voice and replied truthfully, "No, I didn't. It was easier to keep it behind me and focus on the present."
Meryl watched at the vampire struggled to fight his tears and relented somewhat. "So you were trying to forget? But Knives isn't one to forgive and forget, is he?" she asked, taking a slow step back from the man and turned, letting her eyes trail to the window. The rain ran in trails of tears, the sky crying as the last of winter melted away and spring imposed its presence.
"I've tried to help him, but Knives hates humans…no matter what I say I can't change his mind," Vash spoke quietly, his eyes burning at the mention of his brother.
Meryl raised a hand to trail her fingers lightly along the poultice at her neck. How many days had Nick said she had left? She cast a grim smile at the half-blood. "I figured that…although, I don't understand one thing."
"What?" Vash asked miserably, feeling more and more like a lying, cheating criminal the longer Meryl stood there.
She faced Vash once more, her grey eyes settling on his broken form. We're not much different, she realized, We're both on our last legs and ready to give up and give in… Out loud, she spoke softly, eyes trained on the seemingly young man, "Why did you leave?"
He blinked slightly, brow furrowing, and tilted his head up to stare in confusion. When had he left?
Meryl sensed his unspoken question. "Why did you leave Knives, I mean. He seems to want you back more than anything."
Blinking, Vash let her meaning dawn upon him. Slowly, he gathered his thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence, the burning behind his eyes threatening to spill over. "My mother was a human," he answered at first, lowly.
Meryl waiting, knowing that couldn't be all.
It wasn't. Vash continued with the barest hint of a waver hidden in his voice, and Meryl was once again struck with the image of how human the man before her really was.
"Her name was Rem. She loved my father very much despite him being…a vampire. They loved each other, and when Knives and I were born as twins, they loved us." Here he paused, taking a deep breath, and the petite woman watched him silently. "But just because we were twins didn't mean we thought the same. Knives had taken after my father, even though he was a good man…I must have taken after Rem, because I seemed to be the only one besides my father who shed tears when she died," he spoke quietly, not quite knowing why he was telling Meryl so much but did so anyway. "Knives grew to be a true vampire…ruthless and bloodthirsty. He had hated our mother and her humanistic values. I followed Rem's dreams. She frowned upon traditional vampire ideas, the taking of one life to support another…" Vash trailed off, his voice fading.
Meryl suddenly felt more like a horrible person than anything else.
Meryl hadn't ever been one to openly admit her feelings. To become overly enthusiastic, excited, giggly, happy. Or sad. She had never been one to get too attached to someone—except Milly, because she was different. They had known each other for ages. And the priest. She supposed Nicholas counted too, even if he was a secretive, dirty, rude man. Odd for a priest.
And then there was the man before her. The half-blooded vampire cursed with a half-life. He had been cursed with a repulsive excuse for a brother and a human mother who valued the ways of humans. And a father who was a Lord—and a vampire.
Somehow, sometime—she didn't quite know herself—this sorry excuse for a man, a vampire, both forced into one body and forced to share the same soul and heart, the same mind and thoughts…and even with all of these, he had managed to weasel his way into her life. And she had to admit (only to herself), that she didn't mind half as much as she said she did. The way she acted, she supposed it was her own carefully build and heavily guarded wall protecting her from unwanted eyes and strangers. She had often thought—sarcastically—that she was some sort of high royalty. Any fools she disliked weren't able to get through, and only the ones she chose herself would be given a chance.
It was utterly ridiculous, she knew. But that was the reason she only had two friends besides her cup of tea—because she only wanted two friends. Because she had allowed them to be friends.
And Vash. Vash? She really didn't know what it was about Vash. But he had entered her life quite promptly, and from then on hadn't left entirely.
And she found she didn't really mind.
Meryl faced the blonde slowly, watching him with his head bowed, a pathetic sight even if he wasn't crying. No, he was holding the tears back quite boldly, she figured. Her face darkened somewhat, she had never known a vampire to be so emotional. Truly, he seemed more human than anything else. Overly human—sensitive and caring. And deeply wounded.
"Vash?"
She wouldn't make him finish, even if he would, even if he wanted to. He didn't have to. It wasn't her place. She wasn't anyone to take charge of his life so much as to begin making decisions for him. He wasn't insensitive, inhuman, but quite the opposite. She wondered if he was even human sometimes. If they both switched positions their personalities would seem to fit perfectly.
He was staring up at her with his aquamarine eyes—the colour of the London harbour on a warm, bright day in summer.
"You don't have to finish," Meryl spoke softly, kindly, something she didn't often do. When could she afford it?
But now? With her life ending even as they spoke and Vash's mind breaking down as he sat there, crystal tears rimming his eyes. Which suddenly seemed much more bright than before, more alive than before…was she to go on with her steely façade? One even Milly was tiring from?
Vash blinked up at her in indecision, feeling slightly bemused and uncomfortable. Where was the priest when you need him?? he thought dryly, but didn't show it. Now this Meryl…this Meryl was slightly different. And he wasn't sure if he was used to it.
"I thought you wanted me to tell you why I left…" he answered finally, slowly.
Meryl blinked and looked away, unable to keep his gaze for long. "I already knew why you left," she said lowly. "To get away from your brother, who wanted nothing more for you to rule at his side with him, to be with him. To take your place where you should be, even right now, thinking up new and sadistic ways for your people to overcome mine, to slaughter them and drink every last fresh drop of blood within sight."
Vash narrowed his eyes slightly, tears suddenly forgotten. Now she was insulting him?
"I know why you left Vash. Because you couldn't stand the sight of the blood and the disease, and the dying! You couldn't stand the death all around you, to pure enjoyment your brother got from taking a life to sustain his own…so you left," she quipped simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, casting a quick glance to see Vash glaring at her. "Don't look at me like I'm the enemy."
The half-blood frowned. "I'm not."
Meryl resisted the urge to huff. It was ridiculous. "I know what you want, too," she stated boldly, if not too much so. She wasn't jumping too far ahead, was she? She hoped not. "You want to be rid of that life, don't you? And Knives, who won't leave you alone, even in your sleep? Who calls to you and taunts you with dreams and visions, laughing and smiling with his cold blue eyes."
Now what was she going on? Even Meryl herself didn't know! And Vash was staring at her like she was some sort of lunatic.
"That's why you're leading us to him, right?" she demanded critically, but not angrily. "You're sick of it, aren't you?"
Vash stared, face suddenly slack. "How would you know? You weren't a mind reader last time I checked," he answered coolly.
Meryl quirked and eyebrow at him. "You'd be surprised to know what I do, broomhead."
His brow furrowed at the name, but he recognized her attempt to lighten the dark air surrounding the room. So he cracked a smile, one of the small ones that Meryl had grown so attached to she now found she adored with a passion and missed terribly when they weren't there. When had they become so comfortable with each other? She had no idea herself. Perhaps they had always been, from the moment he had decided to spare her—half because of the knife wound in his gut. Or maybe when she had caught his eye in the market, and began searching desperately when she lost it. When she had first seen his brother's cold eyes staring back at her from the window of a black carriage and had known danger was coming, or when he had inadvertently saved Milly and herself from a pack of bloodthirsty nightwalkers? Or maybe when she had dragged his body half way across London in the middle of a raging storm, catching a cold herself and waking up to find he had set up residence in her spare room.
Or maybe before they had met? Surely it had been decided long before either had been born, that the fates would bring together two such opposite souls and force them under one roof, force them to understand one another.
Meryl wasn't quite sure she was at that point, but she was close. Close was all she needed. She was dying, was she not? If this was all a hoax, at least she would know she had been close, and Vash and herself had shared an odd relationship. She would know that they had met.
God, how she loved that smile. It reminded her of Milly. Bright, carefree. How could a man who so many years under his arm still smile such a genuine smile?
Meryl hadn't realized she's been smiling back until there came a knock upon the door, and without waiting for an answer, it swung open. Milly's head poked through, a smile mirroring the one Vash had worn seconds before plastered across her face. She didn't even seem surprised to see Meryl with Vash.
"Mr. Priest is back, I've packed all of our things," she chirped breezily. "Now, all's left is to get ourselves in and be on our way. We don't have all year, you know!" The last sentence must have come out more easily than she intended, for moments later Milly looked bashful.
Meryl merely smiled, the one that tilted her head and softened her stormy eyes to a calm haze while her lips curled to the faintest of arcs. "We'll be there in a moment, Milly. Just tell Nick not to leave without us."
And Milly smiled. And everything was all right again. "Of course, sempai! But the horses are a bit jumpy!" she said, and grinned briefly at Vash before closing the door quietly behind her.
As Meryl turner her attention back to Vash, she noticed he had a troubled sort of look on his face. "What's wrong now?" she asked, slightly weary of the man's constant change of mood.
Once again, those aquamarine eyes darted up to her. "They'll want to know, I guess," he stated vaguely, and his gaze fell to the floor.
It took Meryl a moment to realize what he was saying. His brother, Knives. He was worried what Milly and Wolfwood would think. She smiled.
Vash suddenly found a small, slender hand sticking in front of his face, and his gaze only lingered for the briefest of moments before turning up to it's owner. She was smiling at him, a kind smile he'd seen directed at him so little it surprised him. That, and the fact she seemed to be waiting for him to take her hand coupled his bewilderment. His brown furrowed and he sensed Meryl was having a hard time trying not to roll her eyes at him. What had he missed?
"But they don't need to know," she stated with the slightest hint of exasperation.
"But they'd want to," he shot back.
Meryl briefly thought of taking her hand back and smacking him over the head, but she stood firm, offering her hand. "They'll know when you want them to," she pressed. "And that doesn't mean now. I'm sure everyone has enough things to think about."
Vash gazed up at her with the lost expression of a smile child before his eyes once again settled on her outstretched hand. Sighing slightly, he took it, and with a combined effort, he was standing before the petite woman with his height towering over her.
He could tell she wasn't the least bit intimidated by him, so he let another grin grace his face.
Meryl smiled back, glad they had come to a mutual agreement. What left was there to do but leave with their hearts slightly elevated? Goodness knows they needed it. They needed everything they could get, both knowing the next few days would most likely be the most difficult of their lives.
But neither minded as much now they knew they weren't the only one.
It wasn't so bad, and certainly not the end of the world.
Amen to that.
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I just wanted to answer a few quick questions here:
1) Is Meryl going to die or just turn into a vampire?
Hmmm, I dunno, I guess you'll just have to find out, eh? I'd like to think I have enough tricks up my sleeve to keep you guessing for a while yet, so prepare to keep guessing, lol!
2) Are Vash and Meryl ever going to get together/admit their feelings for each other?
I give you a guarantee: YES! Yes, yes, yes! :P But as the genre on this fic says, this is NOT a romance, so don't expect all the lovey dovey gooey ooey kinda stuff, ya know what I mean? I know, you all want your romance, and I'll say myself that I wouldn't mind a heavy dosage myself, but with all the dark angsty stuff going on, well it's kinda hard to turn the tables and have everyone all over each other! ;) But yes, I had hoped this chapter was a bit of a step up towards that final goal, so we'll see how it turns out, eh?
3) Since they all live in England, they all have English accents, right?
Hmmm, to tell you the truth I never thought of that! Lol, but sure, I guess. It would sound funny, wouldn't it?
4) Will the serum really help Vash (since he was born a vampire and was never really a human)?
Okay, I suppose I should have been a bit more clear on that. Maybe I'll go back and clear that up a bit later, but anyway…I assume you're talking about the serum they're going after now, right? Okay? Yes, well, what I meant was any vampire who had any human blood in them could use the serum to become a human. And since Vash is half human, I think that qualifies enough. Or maybe I should tweak that a bit and say that the serum can heal anyone, anything, anytime, anyplace and for whatever reason at all. Which makes it a pretty kick ass piece of work, eh?
If I've missed anyone's questions, you can always email them to me or simply write them in a review. I'm sorry if I did, I'm just in a hurry to get his chapter up! ;)
--Cayenne Pepper Powder