Chapter Text
Meryl awakened slowly. She felt dizzy. Her mouth was dry, as if she’d been chewing on a ball of cotton. She wasn’t sure where she was or what had happened. Her eyelids were heavy, refusing to open.
Awareness started to come, bit by bit. She was lying on her back with some kind of blanket covering her up to the neck. It was soft and warm. The noise of a car’s motor hummed in the background, and her head was resting on something firm and comfortable.
She took an involuntary inhale. A scent. Fresh and earthy.
Vash.
He had Meryl’s head on his lap.
“How is she?” she heard Roberto’s voice asking.
“Better. She no longer has a fever,” answered Vash from her side.
“If she needs more medicine, let me know. There’s some left, but we can go back and buy more.”
“Okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a swig? Because boy, it looks like you need it,” said Roberto to Vash.
“Thanks for the offer. But I'm good,” he answered softly.
“Don’t ya worry, I’ll drink for him,” Wolfwood jumped in, his voice also coming from the front. “Gimme that flask.”
“No,” refused Roberto.
“Tch. Stingy old man,” he muttered.
“I can hear you. I’m old, not deaf.”
Vash let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t distract him, Wolfwood. He’s driving. And I’d like to keep my remaining limbs intact.”
“Yea, yea.”
Meryl tried to move, but her body was unresponsive, not listening to her sleepy mind. There was an insistent throb in her shoulder, and her muscles felt as if they were made of lead. She was so, so tired.
“She'll wake up soon. She's tough,” affirmed Roberto. It sounded as if he was answering someone.
“Of course. She’s small, but she packs a punch,” snickered Wolfwood.
“And brave. Recklessly so,” murmured Vash. He said it with such a low voice that she wasn’t sure the others heard him. “Oh! Don't forget her skills with the rope!” he added, this time louder, his tone lighter.
“Huh? Rope?” asked Wolfwood.
“Meryl lassoed him when we first met,” explained Roberto.
“I bet she did,” Wolfwood exploded in mocking laughter. “What a pity I missed that,” he added.
“I’m now kind of glad you did,” muttered Vash.
“So noisy,” grumbled Roberto.
Meryl couldn't see their faces, so she wasn’t able to read their reactions. She heard a rustle of clothes. Wolfwood was moving in his seat.
“Wake up now, short stuff. I want to see ya flushin’ scarlet red,” crooned Wolfwood slyly.
“Hm? Flushing? Why would she?” asked Vash, his voice confused.
“Don't ask dumb questions, blondie-pillow .”
She sensed Vash shift his legs under her head. “Stop giving me weird nicknames!” he protested, indignant.
“Naw. It's fun.”
The two men started to squabble like angry kids. She felt Vash throwing something at Wolfwood and the latter spitting a curse in response.
Roberto breathed out a long-suffering sigh. “If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll end up killing you both myself.”
Meryl laughed inwardly as her consciousness drifted off again.
—--
When Meryl woke up again, her mind was clearer. She was still on her back, but this time the car was silent. A warm but pleasant breeze caressed her face, smelling like sand and heat. They’d probably left the door open.
When she stretched her stiff neck to loosen it, she realized that her head wasn’t propped up on Vash’s lap anymore. Instead, she could feel a big piece of cloth folded into a makeshift pillow. She cracked her eyes open slightly. The outside light was still too much for her sensitive pupils, but she saw that the fabric was red. His coat. It wasn't covering her anymore.
She also noticed there wasn’t anyone inside the car but her, lying across the backseat. She tried to move, but stopped with a groan, suddenly feeling a nagging sensation in her sore shoulder, as if a lot of small needles were prodding at it.
That's right. I've been shot.
Memories came flooding back.
Jay. The fight. The gunshots. The blood. Vash. Herself , falling . The pain .
She put a hand over her eyes, momentarily overwhelmed. At least she was alive. She survived, despite jumping in the middle of danger without a second thought.
But this time, she actually managed to do something. She protected Vash. And that soothed the regret that was eating at her, like balm over an open wound. Yet doubt continued to ooze and leave murky trails in her soul.
Meryl slid her hand from her eyes to her injury. There was a thick bandage over it. Her shirt was red and torn on the shoulder, but all the important bits were covered. While she waited for the pain to subside, Meryl began to hear voices talking at a distance. That made her lips curl in a smile. They hadn't left her alone. She thought about letting them know she had already regained consciousness, but when she sensed Vash and Wolfwood approaching the car, she closed her eyes.
She wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe she wasn't feeling brave enough to face them yet.
“I'm hungry. We should be preparin’ dinner,” complained Wolfwood.
“I'm just going to check up on her for a second,” said Vash.
“You already did. Just an hour ago. She ain’t gonna sprout wings and escape flying,” sighed Wolfwood.
Vash didn't answer.
“Why are you lookin’ at me like that? It's creepy,” said Wolfwood.
“I’m just picturing Meryl with wings.”
“Weirdo,” muttered Wolfwood. “How's your wrist?”
“Fine! It's healed. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Look, look! See how much I can bend it?”
“Stop doing that,” said Wolfwood, making a noise of disgust. “But I'm glad. It looked serious when we found you both. Ain’t sure how you could aim straight.”
“I couldn't,” answered Vash, his voice a little too tight.
“You couldn’t?”
She didn’t know if Vash was planning to answer that, because Roberto's voice called for them, interrupting the conversation.
“Gotta help that old man with dinner,” grumbled Wolfwood. “Don’t take too long, or I’ll have to steal his flask.”
Meryl heard Wolfwood leave, but she couldn't sense Vash moving. Was he still there? She tensed a little, nervous. Should she open her eyes? What could she say? “Hello, I was awake this whole time ?”
Suddenly, a cool hand came upon her forehead. At the contact, Meryl opened her eyes with a soft gasp, immediately wincing at the flash of light entering her sight. She groaned, blinking repeatedly, trying to adjust her pupils to the brightness.
When she was able to focus her eyes, she saw that Vash had half of his tall body inside the car, hovering over her slumped form with a stretched arm. His sky-blue eyes were wide and surprised behind his orange glasses. Her heart skipped a beat.
“M-Meryl,” he blurted out her name, his voice tinged with wonder. “You’re awake.” He said it as if he wasn’t really believing it.
An involuntary smile spread over her lips. “Clearly,” she said.
Vash seemed to be left speechless for a moment. He wasn’t moving, his hand still resting on her forehead. His eyes bore into her, glimmering like an awestruck kid who got the present he had been hoping for the most. But she could also see something darker lurking in that shimmer, ready to pounce on him and stick his claws deep.
Vash began to remove his hand from her skin, perhaps a bit too slowly. “How are you feeling? I’m going to let the others kn–”
Meryl’s good arm shot out. She grabbed his sleeve with her fingertips. The fast movement made pain flare up on her wounded shoulder, and she gritted her teeth, swallowing back her cry. “Don’t call the others yet,” she requested. She had acted on impulse. Something inside her didn’t want to let him go like this. It wanted to lend a hand to that darkness inside him and talk to it.
Vash could’ve easily dodged her weak grab. Yet he was just there, letting Meryl hold him by her trembling fingers. She’d thrown a thin and frail thread at him, and he’d taken it, letting it anchor them together.
He looked at her with an indecipherable expression. Meryl suddenly felt self-conscious. She scrambled to search for an explanation.
“It’s just… Can you… help me sit up?”
She wanted to smack herself on the forehead. What was that flimsy excuse? She could have sat up by herself. She wasn’t invalid, for God’s sake. Her cheeks flamed a little while she released the black fabric of his shirt.
“Oh. Hm. Sure,” said Vash. “Try not to move too much, though. There wasn’t any doctor close, so we treated your wound as best we could on our own,” he explained as he bent over her again, getting inside the car. “Put your good arm around my neck.”
He dipped lower to give her easy access to it, so she wouldn’t have to force her upper body. His face was inches away, hovering over hers. Meryl twisted her head slightly away from him, and slid her arm carefully behind his neck. “Who treated me?” she asked, trying to ignore a weird tingle in her skin where she was touching him.
Vash braced his right hand flat against the backseat, and slipped his prosthetic one carefully under her back, holding her. Then he sat her up with ease, helping her shift to a comfortable position. Meryl felt his warm breath tickle her on the neck.
“Wolfwood and I tried to sew your wound. But Roberto called us brutes, shooed us away, and did it himself,” explained Vash with an apologetic chuckle while he pulled back away from her.
Meryl patted the seat and scooted deeper into the car to leave him more room. She wasn’t giving him a chance to escape.
“Brutes? What the hell did you two do?” she asked, arching her eyebrows.
Vash scratched bashfully on his cheek with his index finger, saying nothing. After hesitating for an instant, he sat next to her.
“I changed my mind. Don’t answer that. I don't want to commit murder,” Meryl sighed. He laughed softly. “Thank you for saving my life, though,” she said to him, her voice softer. Vash’s finger stilled for a second.
“Hm,” he hummed in a non-committal tone. He let his arm fall and looked at the front, his face closed off.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Two years,” he deadpanned.
Meryl blinked, dumbfounded. Then she scowled deeply, narrowing her eyes, and shot daggers at him. Vash peeked at her from the corner of his eye, and practically jumped in his seat when he saw her face. “Please don’t hit me. It was a joke,” he begged, raising his hands in surrender with a nervous laugh. “It’s only been one day! One day!”
“Idiot,” grumbled Meryl, a half smile forming in her lips. She didn't really feel like getting annoyed at him right now. “You almost got me for a second,” she said as she shook her head, amused.
Vash’s expression softened. He turned his head to the front and leaned back in his seat.
They sat there for a few minutes, side by side, but without touching. Her shoulder hurt, but she felt relaxed and warm. She could hear Wolfwood and Roberto arguing in the background about the best way to cook dinner. Meryl stole a discreet glance at Vash. His eyes were closed now. The light of dawn was gliding over the lines of his face, framing his features in gold and fire. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and met her gaze, as if he sensed her somehow. She jolted in her seat, flustered, and looked away.
Meryl started to fidget with her hands, nervous, and she asked him, “By the way… Did you return the Derringer to Roberto?”
“Yes. He and Wolfwood wanted to go back and beat the officers senseless after giving you first aid. Wolfwood started to unwrap his Punisher slowly while singing a murder song.”
Her eyes widened, and she chuckled. “And Roberto?”
“He suddenly grabbed the Derringer and ran towards the car. I had to remind him that if you got worse, he was the only one awake who knew how to drive.”
Meryl laughed harder. She felt warm in her chest.
“I’m probably going to get a good scolding at some point for stealing the pistol, though.”
Vash tapped his chin. “Perhaps. But he’ll be happy when he learns you’re awake.”
“Are you happy?” she blurted out the question without thinking.
Are you an idiot, Meryl? Of course he's happy. It's not as if he hates you.
Still, she wanted to hear him say it.
“Yes.” Vash paused. “You don't know how much,” he added, the pitch of his voice dropping.
His answer brought a momentary warm prickling to her cheeks, but her face quickly fell when she recalled everything that happened. The consequences. A lump formed in her throat. “I still got hurt. After taking his gun without permission. And… I shot at someone with it.”
Meryl sensed Vash tilting his head to look at her. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m not sure.” She fiddled with one of her gloves.
“When you had the gun in your hands… Did you feel any less… helpless ?” he asked. Vash's tone was gentle, and Meryl was sure he didn’t have bad intentions, but the question felt like an arrow aimed at her.
Meryl stared at the space between her feet, thoughtful. She recalled the strength and elation she felt when she saw herself capable of saving Vash. When she shot and stopped the guy sneaking behind him. It had felt so good and healing. It had soothed the regret she felt about Tonis.
But there had been helplessness all the same. She had still been taken as a hostage, putting Vash in a difficult position. She couldn’t help but wonder… What if she hadn’t shot at that man? Would things have gone differently? Better? Or would they have taken Vash far away from her?
Meryl shook her head and pinched her own cheek. Thinking about ifs didn’t help. She had to think about the future, not dwell on a past she couldn’t change.
“Meryl?!” exclaimed Vash. “I'm sorry if my question upset you. I didn't mean to.”
“It’s not that.” She let her hand fall to her lap, closing it in a fist. “There were moments where I felt helpless, even with a gun between my hands. And it was horrible when all that blood started to pour out of that man’s leg. When I saw the injury I inflicted on him. His screams… I was so scared. And I still am. Realizing all the harm you can do, even when you want to do something good…” her voice trailed off.
Vash's right hand twitched, and he raised it slowly towards her.
“But I have no regrets.” She whirled her head toward him, her eyes resolute. “I shot twice: One bullet to save you. One bullet to save myself. And I’d do it again. I would make the same decision a million times, if that means I can protect the people I love.”
Vash’s eyes widened, and his hand stopped mid-air. His eyes searched her face. They both looked at each other for a long, long moment, as if their gazes were tethered. Meryl did not waver, even for a moment. She saw him swallow, his hand still hanging between them like an unanswered question.
“I can’t disagree if you look at me with such conviction,” Vash finally said, breaking the silence. A wide smile slowly spread to his lips. Yet it didn't quite reach his eyes, that darkness inside him holding it back. He lowered his arm. “It makes me happy to know you would fight to save me again after what you've been through. Even if I don't entirely agree with you resorting to violence to do it. It's a very mixed feeling.”
“You don’t have to agree. It’s my decision,” explained Meryl, stubbornly.
“I know. I'm not trying to stop you or control you. I would never try to take away your freedom of choice,” he said, his voice serious. “But the fact that you understand that even by doing what feels right, you can hurt other people is important to me. How hard it is to follow that path. How hard it is to keep it cool.” Vash blinked a few times and turned his head away.
“Sometimes there’s no other way,” she murmured.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “I also hurt that guy after he shot you.”
“You barely injured him. And he deserved it. A little.” She quickly added the last bit, recalling their conversation two days ago.
Vash tightened his hands into fists. He didn’t argue with her statement this time. “I wanted to do worse.”
“But you didn't. And you saved me, Vash,” she said, cocking her head to peek at his face.
“Hm,” he hummed. He was avoiding meeting her eyes.
“Don’t ‘ hm’ me. If it weren’t for you, my reckless saving attempt would have ended far worse.”
“About that…'' Vash hesitated. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. A faraway look fogged his eyes, like mist over a blue lake, before he said without looking at her, “It was my fault that you got shot.”
Meryl was so stunned for a moment that she could only ask, “Your… fault?”
“They associated you with me. They thought you were my accomplice back in Jeneora.”
“Jay shot at me because the information he had was wrong. It was Knives who destroyed Jeneora, not you, Vash,” she argued. “And it was my decision to follow you. I was the one who decided to jump in there, consequences be damned.”
“Still…” He took a deep breath, and his jaw tensed, as if he were struggling to say something. He grabbed his right wrist with his other hand, and squeezed it hard. “I tried to stop the shot heading your way. And… I couldn’t. Because my aim was shaky. I shot, but I just grazed the bullet. I couldn’t completely deflect it. And you got hurt.”
With the commotion and the shock, Meryl had forgotten that Vash had shot at the same time Jay did, but she couldn’t remember for the life of her where that bullet had landed.
Now, she knew why. It had missed its mark.
“If I had dodged that first shot to my wrist, I could have stopped the bullet that hit you in the shoulder. It was my fault,” he continued in a strangled, broken voice. He wasn’t looking at her. Meryl could feel him slowly drifting away after confessing that. His posture was getting colder, more controlled, more fake. “You could have died. If the bullet had gone a little more to the left, it could have nicked an artery…”
“You can’t know that.”
“What?” he whipped his head to look at her. His eyes were filled with disbelief.
“You can’t know what would’ve happened if you dodged it. It’s useless to delve into it. I might as well say it was my fault, because it was me who wanted to learn to shoot that night. It was me who dragged you to that place. I also feel guilty for that.” Meryl paused for a moment, and she took a deep breath.
“It wasn’t–” he started to say. Meryl silenced him with a look.
“But it would be an endless circle of pain and self-blame. And I’m tired of that,” she continued. “The most important thing is that both of us are alive. You saved me. I’ll probably have a scar on my shoulder, but it will be a reminder that I survived. That I’m here, smiling, with you.”
“I–” choked out Vash. His eyes glinted, and he tried to hide it under his glasses. He was at a loss for words. As if no one had said those things to him before.
“I won’t let you bear that burden alone. We're both big idiots.” Her eyes burned, tears threatening to fall and not stop. “If you say it was your fault again, I’ll punch you.”
“All right. I don’t want to suffer your rage,” he said, letting out a soft chuckle, but it was a little forced. He seemed to be deeply touched and completely lost at the same time. “It would probably hurt a lot. Small fists dig in deeper.”
“I’m not sure if you are mocking me.”
“Me?” he said with a too-innocent face. “Never!”
Meryl punched him softly on the bicep with her good arm. "Just wait until my injury heals and I get my strength back," she teased him with a tiny smile.
“Ow ow!” whined Vash, grabbing his bicep and pretending to be in pain.
Meryl's right eyebrow shot up. “I suddenly want to punch you for real.”
Vash grinned, but his mouth faltered after a few seconds, just as his eyes slid to her shoulder. His lower lip trembled. He looked away and put one hand over his eyes. ”Sorry, just give me a moment.”
Meryl's eyebrows slid together in concern. Her chest ached for him. A veil of loneliness and guilt was dragging Vash into a dark current, not allowing him to see the small dots of light that filtered through the fabric. She couldn’t let it close over his neck and suffocate him.
Meryl scooted closer. Swallowing her moan of pain, she turned her body to face him. Then she lifted her arm, grabbed his hand, and took it off his eyes delicately. Vash let her do it, and his gaze flickered up to meet hers, a question in the tilt of his eyebrows.
“Vash…” said Meryl, her voice soft and inviting.
She leaned forward slightly, slid her hand up behind his neck, and pulled him towards her in an embrace.
Vash tensed for a moment, but he quickly relaxed and buried his face in the crook of her neck, being careful with her wound. She heard him take a deep inhale, and then he flushed her tight to him, fisting the fabric on her back with his prosthetic hand, and burying the other in her short hair.
“Meryl,” he whispered her name, as if he were savoring it for the first time and discovering that it tasted sweet in his mouth.
Meryl caressed the back of his neck with her fingertips, tracing circles, curves, and lines, up and down, left and right. She let herself graze the start of his hair. They stayed like that for a few minutes, a lifeline of mutual comfort tying them together and keeping them above the surface of darkness.
Then Vash reluctantly withdrew from her arms, as if he didn’t want to let go of her warmth. As if he wanted to stay there forever, lost in the calming haze of her.
He raised his right hand and pushed her bangs aside, leaving her forehead bare. Then he tilted his head and left a tender kiss on it. “Thank you, Meryl.” said Vash against her skin. “You give me hope,” he added in a soft whisper, barely audible.
Meryl’s eyes widened, and she gasped inwardly. The rush of emotions from this last adventure, all the anxiety, dread, pain, and horror coursing through her just dissolved into nothingness for an instant. She could only feel the lingering touch of his lips, soft, firm, and humid, anchoring her, burning away all the dark thoughts like a cleansing bonfire.
She knew everything would come back to torment her. Maybe a little less intense. Maybe a little more dull. But at this moment, she didn’t care. She just let herself feel him.
Just him.
“Let’s stay like this a little more,” she said. Vash nodded.
They remained silent. Words weren’t needed. Just the sound of their heartbeats, and the comfort of their presence next to each other was enough.
—-
When Wolfwood and Roberto came to call them for dinner, they found the pair sleeping peacefully. Meryl’s head was resting against his bicep, and Vash’s hand was clutching her delicate fingers in a grip.
“I guess she finally resurrected. Should we wake ‘em up?” asked Wolfwood.
“No. Let them sleep.” Roberto looked at them, thoughtfully, and he murmured to himself, “They look like two lost souls who finally found a comfortable place to rest.”