DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro the Stampede was already well aware of the woman standing next to him. He had not addressed her yet out of respect, letting her speak to him or not as she chose.
Vash the Stampede was already well aware of the woman standing next to him. He had not addressed her yet out of respect, letting her speak to him or not as she chose.
"Vash?"
"What's up?"
Meryl Stryfe's head was down, voice quiet. "I was wondering…if…well, maybe…" Then her head snapped up firmly as she cast aside indecision, the same look in her eyes as when she charged into chaos, her voice now strong and steady. "Would you like to go out with me?"
"Hello, broom-head."
Meryl's voice was strong, that was good. And she knew him, that was also good. Today was one of her lucid days. They were getting fewer and fewer.
"Hey, insurance girl." Vash sat on the bed next to his aged wife.
He didn't know if a person was granted just one true love, as some claimed. Perhaps there would be others.
What he did know was Meryl was his first time falling in love, and it hurt to so slowly be losing her like this. He didn't know which was worse, waiting for her time to come or the days, rapidly increasing in frequency, where she didn't know him. Once upon a time, back on Earth, scientific advances in medicine had stamped out neurological conditions like Alzheimer's and dementia; that knowledge had been lost in the Great Fall, however, and doctors were once again back to doing the best they could against impossible circumstances.
Damn it, this hurt. He'd lost people before, but this was another kind of hurt entirely. His love for Meryl was not the same as the love he held for other humans. This love, and consequently this ordeal, was more personal, penetrating deeper than even Wolfwood's death had.
"What are you thinking about?" Meryl asked him.
"How beautiful you are."
She had enough strength in her weak body to whack him on the arm. "Liar. I was always plain, and any beauty I may have had is long gone."
"You were never plain," he corrected. "Everyone else was just visually impaired – they only saw skin deep. You were pretty, but your real beauty was and still is in your character. Your honor. Those drew me in. Your looks were just a bonus."
She laughed weakly. "Just what a girl wants to hear, that her looks were the last thing a guy paid attention to."
Vash looked deep into her eyes, trying to see through to her soul, fully aware that this could be her last good day. "I paid attention to everything about you, Meryl. If you know nothing else…know that I love you."
She gestured to the bedside table. "Hand me that recorder."
"How did you know I always wanted to hear that as an answer to 'I love you'?" His voice was light, but he did as asked, taking her hand and closing it firmly around the recorder.
"Here's my answer, something you can take with you to remember me by." She pressed RECORD. It took a moment, but her voice was even stronger than at the start of this conversation. It was her voice as it had been so many decades ago in her prime, confident and bold. "Know that I love you, Vash, my too-tall broom-head." Hit STOP.
"I'll never have any trouble remembering you," Vash promised. "But I may wear that recording out listening to it."
"I'll make others. I won't leave you without my voice in your ear. You'll be able to be as annoyed as you were with me always on your tail."
"Want to know a secret?" She nodded. "I was never really annoyed. It just was too much fun pushing your buttons."
She grinned. After so many years of marriage, it still reflexively brought a smile to his own face.
A soft voice at the door said, "I hate to interrupt, but it's time for medicine."
Meryl made a face at the thought that medicine was going to do anything but at best delay the inevitable.
"Be a good girl, now," Vash chided. "Take your medicine. If it helps, I'll give you a spoonful of sugar." She stuck her tongue out at him.
A spoonful of sugar didn't help. Neither did the medicine for much longer. The last days were the worst, the ones where all memory of him was lost.
Meryl Stryfe's brain didn't recognize her own husband. Even knowing that it wasn't her fault, it still stung.
But when she passed, it was with him by her bedside, her hand in his. Before the life flickered out of her eyes, the words that followed her into eternity were, "I love you, Meryl Stryfe."
Vash had Meryl's words, many recordings. He would be able to hear her voice for a long time to come. That was good, far more than he'd been left to remember Rem by, and he treasured hearing her voice speak of her love for him every day.
But no matter those precious moments, no matter how much he might grin and lie to everyone that he was fine – his life still sucked without her.
