Chapter 19 - Truth, Justice, and the No Man's Land Way

Chapter Summary

Previously, Clark revealed his secrets to Meryl after she tracked down an injured Superman. In Clark's reporter persona, he helps the girls write a front-page article about the aliens and Plant theft. The day after, the newbie discovered her weapon of choice, and Stun-gun Milly was born.

Now, the reporters board the sandsteamer on their mission to find Vash. Imagining what's happening back home on Earth, Clark's fears spiral out of control. And Meryl overcomes her passivity by showing Milly (and Clark) the hidden truth about their world.

—T&J—

"Attention, all passengers joining us for our voyage on "The Mubra," making stops at: Meldrek, Ripmela, New Miami, Augusta, Inepril, May City, Voldoor, and Octovern.

"This is the final call for boarding.

"Anyone who has completed boarding procedures, please make your way to the designated gate. If you have not yet completed boarding procedures, please speak to your nearest attendant immediately.

"It's your cooperation that helps "The Mubra" stay on schedule."

Clark loitered in a waiting area at the port on the edge of December City. He'd arrived after a thorough scan of the city looking for Myxzpltk. His search had turned up nothing.

While scouting and flying around the city, Superman couldn't help but do a few small rescues: pulling people out of car accidents, putting out a small house fire, saving a cat stuck in a…well, whatever it was, it wasn't a tree.

The sunny, vibrant weather made him feel amazing physically, and the showering of thank yous uplifted him in a way even flying couldn't.

However, he also felt oddly apprehensive, being used to the frequent overcast days back in Metropolis.

The lingering self-doubt, stemming from people's fear of him, stabbed at his heart and soul.

The unease started that day Superman overheard the General speaking with his developing superhearing. Superman chased Mist around Metropolis, trying to help the young man. Regrettably, in Clark's exhausted and distressed state, Superman caused a string of accidents and unintentional damage throughout the city.

It wasn't until Lois and Jimmy convinced the people of Metropolis to help Superman stop Parasite—as he'd helped them time and time again—that his self-doubt began to wane.

However, the overwhelming state of anxiousness throughout December City stoked Clark's trepidation.

These citizens didn't know Superman like Metropolis citizens did. Superman could overhear their frightened conversations about the aliens, the flying man, and the theft of the generator Plant.

He'd have to ask Meryl more about the Plants later.

For now, he settled on observing his immediate surroundings.

Clark stared up, inspecting the enormous brushed metallic vessel encrusted with patches of sand and rust. Tiny figures of deckhands shuffled aboard the top deck, going about their pre-departure routines.

He estimated the sandsteamer to be at least a thousand feet long and a dozen stories tall. A large funnel sat on the nose of the bow like a rhino's horn, and the raised observation deck and bridge curled over the stern like a scorpion's tail.

He couldn't quite tell how the vessel traversed the sandy desert land. But it was still a fascinating sight to behold. Plus, its silhouette gave him an odd sense of déjà vu.

Hundreds of people bustled about, carrying bags or rolling suitcases. Everyone's fashions and styles intrigued Clark as well.

Some folk wore various business casual attires. Others reminded him of characters in those Mad Max movies he and Jimmy watched a few years back. A wide variety of styles ranged from early twentieth century to Wild West to cyberpunk.

Dozens of passengers disembarked while he waited. Twice as many people arrived to board.

"Look, Meryl, there's Mr. Clark again!" A familiar feminine voice called out.

Clark turned to see Milly and Meryl, though the shorter woman was harder to spot. Milly waved her arm in wide arcs to get his attention. The crowd eagerly stepped out of the woman's way, clearing a path for the reporters.

"I didn't know you were leaving on the sandsteamer too, Mr. Clark," Milly said with a smile that reached her eyes.

"Oh, hello again! I'm, ah, following a story for the Chronicle. I guess it's taking us in the same direction?" Clark stood up from the bench.

He rested the strap of a brown duffle bag on his shoulder. Meryl loaned him the bag that morning to pack up his new clothes and some other essentials she'd thrown together for him.

"Well, isn't that just a wonderful coincidence? The more the merrier, my little big sister always says!" Milly clasped her hands together. "Meryl said we had just enough funds for second-class tickets. Lucky us!"

"I'm grateful not to be in third class." Meryl shuddered. "Never again."

"What class are you in?" Milly asked.

Clark froze at the question.

Of course, Clark still didn't have any money, so hadn't purchased a ticket. He turned slightly to Meryl, hoping she had some answer for him. She reacted when they caught each other's eyes.

"Didn't you say you were also in second class, Mr. Kent?" Meryl asked, playing along.

"T-that's right," he answered.

"Oh, by the way, you forgot your notebook at the office yesterday." Meryl purposely stepped in front of Milly. "I grabbed it, thinking it was one of mine. Good thing we bumped into each other."

She snuck what must have been a second boarding pass from her carry-on bag and handed it to him. He nodded in thanks and slipped it into his coat pocket.

He appreciated Meryl's help in maintaining his regular citizen façade.

Clark laughed, not having to try hard to sound embarrassed. "Thank you, Miss Stryfe. I was wondering where that got to. I'm always forgetting or losing things." He chuckled again and rubbed the back of his neck.

With pass in hand, Clark followed the two women reporters to their boarding gate and up the gangplank into the sandsteamer.

—

Clark wondered how minuscule a third-class room would've been when he entered his second-class cabin. The encroaching walls and lack of windows stirred a sense of claustrophobia. He dropped his bag on the tiny bed and quickly exited the room.

After a few wrong turns in the maze of interior hallways, he found the stairwell and climbed a few flights to the upper decks as the sandsteamer departed from the port.

Groups of people down by the docks waved to their family or friends who stood along the railings, waving back.

As Clark watched the city shrink on the horizon, he heard Meryl's voice behind him. "Hey there, 'Mr. Kent.'"

He turned and was surprised Milly wasn't with her. Meryl crossed her arms to lean against the railing.

"Hey yourself, 'Miss Stryfe,'" Clark played along with a grin. "Where's Miss Thompson?"

Meryl chuckled and shook her head. "She's back in the cabin snoozing. Seems like she was so excited last night for our trip that she couldn't sleep. "

Clark smiled. "I would've never guessed she was tired. She was so chipper back at the docks."

Meryl shrugged. "I haven't known the newbie much longer than you. She hasn't been anything but happy-go-lucky."

"I see," Clark said, then fell into a quiet contemplation. They watched the monotonous surroundings pass them by.

"I spy with my little eye, something that starts with 'S,'" Meryl said, her gaze sweeping the landscape.

Clark raised an eyebrow at her for randomly launching into the game. She just smirked in response, waiting for his answer. "Uh, sand?" he asked.

"Darn, first guess." She swiped her hand, snapping her fingers in mock disappointment. "I only used that one a hundred times, too." After a second, she chuckled.

"A game you played a lot during your travels?" Clark asked.

She nodded, her giggles fading and she went quiet again.

Clark realized Meryl was likely reminiscing about her old companions. He'd come to learn they were a topic she always skirted around. But her travel stories were so frequent that those companions often seemed to be on her mind.

He decided a safer topic would be better. "So, this sandsteamer is pretty impressive. Thanks for getting me a ticket. I owe you one."

She sighed. "I hate to agree, but a reporter's salary is not as impressive. My savings account is as empty as this scenery." She waved a hand lazily over the railing.

Clark almost snorted in commiseration of her reporter's salary. A low-wage paid internship was all he was familiar with so far. Instead, he frowned. "I'm sorry. I wish I could pay you back somehow."

"Next time, can I get that exclusive interview with Superman and not just quote an anonymous source?" Meryl suggested.

Clark didn't reply right away. He shouldn't let this world get too attached to Superman. He had to get back home to his Earth sooner or later.

Preferably sooner.

He didn't want to give the people of No Man's Land false hope of a hero here to stay longer than his welcome.

Clark didn't expect to be here so long. He should've found the nerve to tell Mxy to find another solution to his problem.

But when had Clark ever turned his back on someone?

How were Lois, Jimmy, and his parents handling his disappearance? Would he return home to Metropolis to find himself newly unemployed? Was Lois's father back in Smallville interrogating his parents and neighbors? Did the alien invaders send more ships to Earth in his absence?

His thoughts spiraled into worse and worse scenarios.

His vision started to go black. A ringing filled his ears. He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't remember where he was. Was there someone with him?

"Clark? Clark?!" a woman's voice woke him from his waking nightmare. "Clark, are you okay? What's wrong?"

He tried to focus on the woman's voice, but her face appeared blurry. The petite form made his heart leap. "L-Lois?" he whispered, desperation creeping in. His trembling hands rose to pull her toward him.

But when the figure stepped back, his heart sank. He blinked several times, trying to see clearly.

"Clark? What's wrong? It's me, Meryl," Concern caused her voice to raise in pitch.

No. No, the voice isn't right. Meryl? Where is Lois? Oh. That's right. Lois is back in Smallville. Back where I left her. I left her and Jimmy again. Again. After Lois said she couldn't lose me. And Jimmy said he was never letting me go again.

What if I can't make it back this time?

"Clark! Clark!"

He had to answer the one calling him. He wouldn't turn his back.

His vision, fuzzy and rimmed with black, yet slowly coming back into focus. His breath, rapid and heavy. His face, blotchy with sweat.

He realized he'd clenched his hands so tightly he'd accidentally crunched the thick metal railing like playdough. When he ungripped the crushed railing, his hands trembled.

The trembling spread from his hands down to his legs. Meryl must have noticed because she guided him to sit on a nearby bench.

"Clark, I think you're having a panic attack. Here. Focus on me," she said, crouching in front of him.

It felt like ages, but eventually, his vision cleared enough to concentrate on her face and voice.

"Can you breathe with me and count to 10?"

He nodded. They inhaled and exhaled deeply, slowly counting to 10. Clark's awareness began to return more quickly, making it to 8, 9, then 10.

"Can you tell me what you need?" Meryl asked.

The list wrote itself in his mind. It scrolled down the page endlessly.

The need at the top of the list traveled from his head to his mouth. "I need to go home," Clark whispered. His gaze rested on his hands over his knees.

The silence that followed made him think Meryl hadn't heard his spoken desire. It probably wasn't the type of answer she was expecting.

"You'll find your way home. Just keep listening for her voice. Let it guide you," she said. Her voice as gentle as the breeze, yet as unyielding as a mountain.

Clark closed his eyes and nodded. He let her voice speak to him in his mind. He could hear her. He could see her.

One hand on her hip and the other punching him playfully on his arm. Lois wagged a finger at him.

"C'mon, Smallville, don't throw in the towel so easily. You haven't given up before, so don't give up now. Plus, you know me. I read your note and don't think for one second we're just gonna sit around worrying about your cute butt. Lois Lane would go to the ends of the earth… No, the ends of the universe to get you back!"

Clark almost choked out a laugh at his imagined Lois calling his butt cute. He needed to hear that all, though.

He needed a good kick in the rear. He needed to borrow her stubbornness and determination. He needed to know she wouldn't give up on him so easily, so why should he?

He opened his eyes, determination flickering to life. "Thank you, Meryl. I heard her voice through you."

—

As the suns began to set, Meryl suggested waking Milly so they could get dinner. She invited Clark, but he brought up his empty pockets again. She huffed and pulled out her wallet, handing over some small bills. His tab was sure wracking up.

Meryl left for her cabin, so Clark went on ahead to the food court in the center of the sandsteamer to reserve a table.

Besides the few odd foods he didn't recognize, good old Earth foods were mostly the norm. He hadn't seen any livestock besides those big teal birds in December, so he was suspicious about all the pork and beef on the menu—another thing he'd have to ask Meryl about.

He had a habit of scarfing down his meals, finishing before others at the table. So, he resigned to waiting until the women made their way to join him.

Clark found an open table near the room's entrance. A few minutes later, he spotted Meryl and Milly enter. He stood and waved to catch their attention.

"Good evening, Mr. Clark!" Milly chimed as they approached the table.

"Hello again, Miss Thompson. I hope you had a restful nap," Clark replied, following the women to order their meals.

"Oh yes! I had a dream about swimming in a pool of pudding. It was so cool and refreshing."

Both Meryl and Clark reacted with expressions mixed between confused and grossed out. "O-oh, sounds nice?" Clark replied.

"Ooh, look, they have pudding here!" Milly said, glancing at the refrigerated display case.

Someone has a serious craving.

With food trays in hand, the three returned to the table.

They made some small talk for a while. Milly rambled about her huge family and ten siblings. Meryl launched into a story about her last encounter with a group of wannabe bank robbers who were apprehended before they could even reach their getaway vehicle. Clark relented to divulging how he'd met and got together with Lois after the women begged him to share.

Almost finished with their meal, something seemed to catch Meryl's ear. Clark noticed when she didn't answer a question, so he shifted his attention, too.

"—hear over the radio? Said Vash the Stampede was spotted in Little Jersey. He took out a bunch of bounty hunters at the tavern and two ex-JuLai MPs before getting the hell outta dodge."

"For real? I know that Little Jersey has gone to shit, but even a cesspool like that doesn't deserve the wrath of the Humanoid Typhoon."

Clark noticed Meryl's white-knuckled grip on her silverware and the tightness of her face and jaw. She glared at the two men speaking at the next table over as if they'd personally offended her.

"Thank god the town was left standing. They should count their blessings. A witness saw 'im take a truck driver and another chick hostage. The rig drove outta Little Jersey heading north," the first man said.

"Shit, Ripmela's north of Little Jersey! That's my city! My wife and kids are there! If that devil sets foot there, I'll kill the bastard myself!"

Meryl stood up so abruptly that even Clark was startled. He flinched when she slammed her palms on the table, making their plates rattle and cups almost tip over.

People sitting at tables nearby all turned to see what was causing the commotion. The chatter filling the food court dulled.

Meryl looked directly at the two men. "How can you sit there and say such awful things about him?"

They both grunted out, "huh?" The first man said, "What the hell do you care, girly?"

"You have no idea what kind of person he really is. I think you talking about anyone like that is disgusting."

The two men glanced at each other in total confusion. "Okay, geez, lady. Just saying what the whole world thinks."

Meryl scoffed, gave one last glare, then turned on her heel and stomped out of the food court. Whispers resumed as several sets of eyes followed her.

"Who the hell was that? Some kind of outlaw lover?"

"What a psychopath. Who'd defend Vash the Stampede?"

"Woman needs some serious help. She got more than one screw loose."

Even though Clark was confused, he was more appalled at what the travelers were saying behind her back. He tried to excuse himself to Milly, but she got up with him to follow Meryl.

—T&J—

"Miss Meryl! Please wait up!" Milly called.

Meryl refused to stop, refused to wait. She had stayed in her lane for far too long. She was only one person who knew the truth. Only one of a handful of people who knew the truth. She might not have been able to publish her truth, or rather Vash's truth, to the world—her editor and publisher had seen to that—but that didn't mean the truth had to stay buried.

If she could convince one person at a time, that was the least she could do.

Meryl navigated the narrow, labyrinthine halls back to her cabin. Clark and Milly followed in her enraged wake.

If she couldn't put her trust in these two, how would she have been okay sharing someone else's secret in a paper circulated across the whole damn Union? She had been okay with it because, back then, she'd been sure Vash and Knives were both dead—along with the hundreds of thousands living in JuLai.

And people wanted answers. They had gotten answers. But the answers were all wrong.

Now, Meryl was certain that both twins were still alive. And one of them was so close she could almost feel him.

Things had to change.

But she couldn't do it alone. She had tried for almost two years on her own. However, breaking people's mindsets would be next to impossible after everyone had stewed in their grief and hatred for so long.

Unlocking her cabin door, she swung it open, not even bothering to close it behind her. Milly followed her inside hesitantly. Clark, being the gentleman she had come to know, lingered outside in the hall.

"Miss Meryl. Please, talk to me," Milly pleaded. Even without looking, Meryl could hear her sobbing, tears likely streaming down the sweet girl's pretty face. Milly crying almost pushed Meryl over the edge herself, but her righteous anger and newfound conviction kept her eyes dry.

Meryl pulled out her suitcase from under the bed. She dug out her clothes, unzipping the private compartment at the bottom. She clutched a folder full of typewritten pages and handwritten notes, carefully lifting it out of the suitcase. She shoved her luggage back haphazardly under the bed.

Meryl finally caught Milly's eyes, but she walked through the door without a word. Clark stood stock still against the far wall. He'd been staring at his shoes but snapped his head up when she exited her cabin.

"Milly, Mr. Kent. I'm sorry I haven't been upfront with you until now. But there's something I need to show you…Something I need to explain before we get to Ripmela," Meryl announced.

"Wait. Ripmela? I thought we were going to Kasted City, Miss Meryl," Milly said, confused.

"You heard what those men said. Vash was last seen in Little Jersey but left heading north. Ripmela would be his next stop unless he circumvents the city entirely."

"Wait. You're trying to find this Vash guy?" Clark asked, his brows furrowing.

Although Milly was more or less aware of Meryl's plans, Meryl had still left Clark in the dark. His question hit her harder than she expected. He'd started trusting her with everything about himself, but she avoided sharing this crucial information.

Meryl sighed raggedly, her nerves beginning to fray. "Yes. I will explain. But for now, no more questions." She fanned the folder between them. "Everything in here is the truth as I know it. This, this will change everything."

"Now the question for you both is, will you believe it?"

With that cryptic question floating in the air, Meryl pivoted and marched away to find them a private space to talk. She knew of just the place.

Meryl took this hallway and that, descending a few flights of stairs. She'd been on plenty of sandsteamers and discovered they had similar layouts depending on class. Entering an area meant for crew only, Meryl slowed her pace. She gulped, hoping not to bump into anyone who'd send them back the way they came.

Meryl could hear Milly and Clark speaking in hushed tones, sticking close behind her.

She passed several doors marked for the crew's benefit. But she was looking for a specific door—one that held behind it a key role in her explanation.

Clark stopped suddenly, tugging her back by her coat. A moment later, Meryl overheard soft voices coming from around the corner. Sweat ran down the back of her neck. Getting caught here would ruin her plan.

"Meryl," Milly whispered. "I don't think we should be down here."

Clark whispered as well. "I agree with Miss Thompson. Where are we going?"

Meryl made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. She didn't want to have to explain until they got there.

Fortunately, the crew continued to walk down the same corridor and didn't turn left. Meryl sighed in relief. She waited another minute before continuing on her path.

She peeked around the corner and twitched at the sight. The door to the room she sought stood at the end of the hall.

She walked briskly to the huge, metallic door and tried the handle—on the off chance it was unlocked. It didn't budge. Of course, it was locked. It didn't even have a keyhole from the exterior.

"The Plant room?" Milly whispered, reading the words on the door. "Meryl?"

Meryl recalled the broken handle mechanism of the Plant room door back on the Humpback. Had Vash resorted to shooting the lock?

She frowned, hesitant to go to that extent. It had been an emergency back then. Well, standing here staring at it wasn't doing them any good. She reached into her coat holster and grabbed her derringer.

Before she could direct the others to step back as she raised her shooting hand, Clark stepped forward. He shoved in front of her, placing one hand on the handle, another higher up on the door.

He gave her a brief look, silently saying, "I don't approve, but I trust you. So, I really hope I'm not going to regret this."

With no more effort to open an unlocked door, the definitely just-locked door slid inwards with a protesting creak of metal.

"Aha, it looks like it was just stuck. After you, ladies," he said with a forced smile and a sweeping gesture of his arm. When they entered, Clark closed the door behind him and lingered there. If Meryl had to guess, he was probably trying to fix whatever damage was caused by the forced entry as best he could.

"Wow! I've never seen such a large Plant up close like this," Milly said, skipping over to the huge floor-to-ceiling tank. Her worries seemingly overcome by delight.

The dark room was washed in blue from the Plant's otherworldly glow. The Plant floated in its usual state of cocooned meditation or hibernation or whatever the term was.

Clark approached the tank slowly. Reverently. The tapping of his shoes echoed ever so softly in the otherwise quiet chamber.

Meryl stepped between them, first observing the Plant for a moment and then her friends. The glow made Clark's vivid blue eyes shimmer with an uncanny quality. Almost like Vash's had. Meryl once again wondered if the two men were anything alike.

Meryl placed one hand on the glass tank like she'd seen Vash do. Her other hand still clutched the folder. She didn't expect anything to happen. The Plant probably only responded to an Independent.

She jolted when the Plant's petals or wings or whatnot quivered.

Milly and Clark gasped, noticing the subtle movement as well.

"Did the Plant react to you?" Milly asked, just shy of a whisper. She glanced at Meryl, and her baby blue eyes also shined with awe.

"I don't know…" Meryl said, her voice soft and wispy.

Clark cleared his throat. "Miss Stryfe, can you please tell us why exactly we broke into a restricted area?"

Meryl slowly removed her hand from the tank and dragged her eyes from the Plant to her friends.

"This," Meryl again waved the folder. "I want you both to read everything. You'll understand why we had to come here."

She held it out for one of them to take. Clark and Milly glanced at each other, but it was Milly who nodded and took the folder.

Milly looked around, not really seeing anywhere to sit. So the big girl just plopped down in front of the Plant. Using the glowing light from its tank, she set the folder on the floor and picked up the typed papers at the top of the pile.

"Miss Meryl? This is your article on Lost JuLai from two years ago?" she asked.

"It's my original article. Not the one that was published. Plus, drafts of other articles and notes of everything I've learned," Meryl corrected.

"Wait. Then what about the one that was published? The one I read the other day?" Clark asked, kneeling next to Milly.

Meryl slid down, sitting and facing the Plant. She wanted to apologize to the entity. She'd witnessed all the Plant's sisters perish that day. She saw all those helpless Plants being manipulated by their brother. How could Knives treat them that way when he hated what humans did? How were his actions any more… humane? Justified?

"That article… that article was nothing but fiction. A story made of half-truths and the twisting of facts. The story the grieving cities wanted. What December and the Federation needed to create a scapegoat. To vilify an innocent man."

"Meryl…" both Milly and Clark whispered.

Meryl said no more. With her knees pulled up to her chest, she buried her face into her leggings. Just her eyes peeked out to gaze at the soothing clarity of the tank's liquid.

Milly handed Clark a second article. They rested their backs against the tank and read silently.

—L&P—

"I don't u-understand," Milly said between sobs. "I read it t-three times, M-Miss Meryl… and I still d-don't understand."

Meryl scooted over to the big girl and hugged her. Milly latched on tightly, crying into her hair.

Clark hadn't moved an inch or spoken a word. He had finished reading a while ago, but Milly went back and reread everything a second and then a third time.

"E-everything we know… everything w-we've been t-told…" Milly said tearily. She shook her head against Meryl, unable to form her thoughts into words.

"Shh. I know Milly. I know," Meryl whispered, rubbing soothing circles on the sweet girl's back.

"E-everyone thinks V-Vash is so.. so evil for what h-happened," Milly said, starting to peel herself off of Meryl.

"All he wanted to do was help," Clark said. His deep tone drew the girls' attention to the otherwise quiet man. "All he wanted to do was help, but he was made out to be the villain. Made out to be a monster. Nothing but a being bent on wanton destruction." His voice laced with bitterness. A quiet, simmering anger. Pity rolled up into empathy.

Like he knew exactly how it felt on a deeply personal level.

That's when Meryl realized that Clark knew Vash. He knew him without ever having met him. She remembered how secretive they both had been, how afraid they were for her or anyone else to know the other parts of their natures.

And Independent and an alien.

They were men, so far removed from the frailties and shortcomings of humans. But at their core, the most human of them all with their own fears and flaws. With their dreams and doubts. With their kindness and compassion. With their love and laughter. With their desire to be accepted and to do good for the world around them.

"I want our world to know the real Vash. The man who loves donuts and playing pranks. A man who has family and friends. A man who had done his best to help humankind survive on this barren planet and fill our barren hearts. Who absolutely hates the sight of blood.

"Who told me, with a smile on his face, he didn't deserve to cry because he was so full of remorse over something he didn't even do!" Meryl said, her voice growing louder and more strangled as she began to cry.

Milly tightened their embrace, cradling the smaller woman. Now, it was her turn to be comforted by her friend. She sobbed and sniffled and Milly took it all with grace.

It felt like ages before she could muster her willpower to ask, "Will you two help me? Help me clear Vash's name? Fight for his justice?"

Between wiping away tears, Meryl watched as Clark stood and faced the Plant's tank.

"I'll do whatever I can," Clark said. He stood tall and resolute, fists clenched tightly. "For truth and justice."

Milly nodded against Meryl and leaned enough away to look her straight in the eyes. "Like I said, Miss Meryl. Where you go, I go. What you fight for, I'll fight for. I'll be there right by your side. Mr. Vash… Mr. Vash needs all the friends he can get, right?" Milly's eyes twinkled from the glowing tank and her tears.

A determined atmosphere filled the room. As if a cool breeze came over her, Meryl felt a shiver travel over her skin.

"Do you hear that?" Clark asked, sweeping his gaze around as if trying to determine the source. Meryl perked up, looking his way and then around the spacious room. She couldn't hear anything unusual and shook her head. Milly said no, as well.

Clark mimicked Meryl's action earlier, placing a hand on the tank and then his other. The Plant quivered again at the contact.

Startled, Clark removed his hands from the tank but, after a moment, placed them back. Yet again, the Plant's petals rippled, her markings with it.

Meryl sniffled, transfixed by the sight. Milly turned to watch intently as well.

"It sounds like humming… like singing almost," Clark whispered.

Meryl wiggled out of Milly's embrace to stand. The big girl rocked herself to her knees and stood next to her.

"You… you can hear her?" Meryl asked him.

Clark's dazed face swiveled to her. An eyebrow raised, likely because of her use of the feminine pronoun.

Meryl placed her hands on the tank. Milly, probably feeling left out, joined in.

Clark's head snapped back to the Plant.

The quivering and glowing marks rippled more until the petals began to unfurl.

"Ohmigosh, Meryl! Look!" Milly squealed.

The petals spread like wings behind the usually hidden humanoid form of the Plant. She unwrapped her arms from herself and blinked open her eyes. She swam, or rather floated, lazily downwards to eye level with the three of them.

"She's so beautiful," Milly cooed in reverent awe. Her voice so soft, as if afraid to scare away the mesmerizing entity.

"Incredible," Clark said simply.

In an unconscious decision, Meryl placed her forehead on the glass like she'd seen Vash do back on the Humpback sandsteamer.

The Plant slowly mirrored her, its long fingers and forehead resting on the other side of the tank.

Meryl gasped as a vision flashed through her mind. It was from the Plant's perspective, or rather another Plant's perspective. The Plant back on the Humpback.

The Plant's memory depicted Vash pleading with her to help stop the sandsteamer from crashing into Hopeland. There was an odd sense of give and take, a push and a pull between the two. It went on for a vague length of time. Their connection was gradually broken. Other presences entered hazily into their awareness.

The Plant watched with helpless concern as Vash collapsed and a human—Meryl—ran to his aid. Meryl had cried and cradled Vash's head in her lap. She kept looking back and forth between Vash's glowing face and the Plant's alien face. The Plant watched for a while with curiosity before tiring and returning to her cocooned, meditative state.

The vision ended as Meryl and the Plant pulled away from the glass. The Plant exchanged no words, but somehow, Meryl sensed the Plant's shared curiosity and compassion for the human who helped her brother.

"H-how did you see what she saw?" Meryl asked, not expecting an answer.

The Plant merely tilted her head, like a puppy trying to understand its owner. She blinked her eyes slowly, and to Meryl, they seemed to droop sleepily.

She glanced one last time at Clark and Milly before floating back up to the tank's center and wrapping herself back up.

The awe-inspiring spectacle ended abruptly as Clark whipped his head towards the door. His words were hushed and rushed as he said, "Uh, ladies? Sorry to ruin the moment. But, we're about to have company!"

—L&P—

AN:
Thanks as always for following along! Reviews are always appreciated! Feel free to follow me crimson-amarone on Tumblr or crimsonamarone on X.

Fic is also cross-posted on AO3. Always excited to connect with other fans! Also, an open invite to a few Discord servers I frequent:
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Next Chapter 19: The Clash of Red and Black The three reporters board the sandsteamer on their mission to find Vash. Imagining what's happening back home on Earth, Clark's fears spiral out of control. And Meryl overcomes her passivity by showing Milly (and Clark) the hidden truth about their world.