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Ever since they’d gotten on the road, Vash has been keeping his distance.
It was pretty typical of him to stay back, off in his own little world, but something about his mannerisms felt… off. He was lagging behind more than usual, just enough to be noticeable. To Meryl, at least. Milly and Wolfwood didn’t seem too concerned, fully engrossed in their own conversation a few paces ahead.
They’d left town about fifteen minutes ago after a band of bounty hunters had put up a worse fight than usual, leaving them wandering across the desert on foot. Wolfwood had insisted that their destination was close enough that the walk was better than the risk of prolonging their stay in a town of people who were now well acquainted with Vash’s reputation as the humanoid typhoon. He was probably right, but Meryl’s legs still screamed their disagreement with every step on uneven ground.
Still hyperaware of the footfalls behind her, she pretended to scan the area. In the half-glance that she stole behind her, she couldn’t help but notice his slouched posture and overall visual lack of energy. This definitely felt weird. Vash had been acting weird ever since they left town, now that she thought about it.
They’d split up briefly to gather any supplies they’d need if they didn’t make it to civilization by nightfall and needed to camp out. Meryl’s back ached with the added weight of her bedroll and a worn-down tent Milly had scored. It was distracting enough that she hadn’t really noticed Vash’s lack of idiotic commentary when the group reconvened.
Now that she was pondering it, her concern was building into anxiety.
She didn’t pause her steps, unwilling to accidentally draw the attention of the other two in case she was about to embarrass herself, but gradually slowed her pace until she fell into step a few feet ahead of Vash. The gap between her and the others was wider than she’d initially thought.
She finally looked over her shoulder fully. Vash met her with an easy smile, apparently oblivious to the widening distance between them and Milly and Wolfwood.
“Dragging our feet, are we?” Meryl tried to smother the concern in her voice with sarcasm. She only half succeeded. Vash shrugged and tilted his head with mock curiosity. It made his glasses slip down his nose just enough to allow Meryl a glimpse of that electric blue. Except they somehow weren’t as shockingly bright as usual.
“What, are you worried about lil ole me?” He teased with that smirk that usually had her itching to punch him in the gut and kiss him at the same time. Right now, though, it only doubled her anxiety. It was lopsided in a way that wasn’t playful, and his eyes were unfocused behind the squint of his smile.
“A little, yeah,” she admitted, perhaps a little too easily. Vash blinked at her for a moment, then reached for the back of his head with that sheepish grin he always wore when he was shown some small kindness.
She expected him to brush her off, tell her she didn’t need to concern herself with him, or worse, apologize for making her worry- but he did none of that. Instead, his smile curled into a grimace and he flinched away from his own touch. He dropped his hand and his smile returned as he said something to Meryl but she wasn’t listening.
Because his hand was smeared with blood.
“Vash! Are you- where are you bleeding from?” She demanded, throwing caution to the wind and grabbing him by the coat to tug him down to her level. He must be bleeding from his head somewhere and- yep, Meryl was officially panicking. Half his head was stained crimson.
“Meryl I’m-“ She grabbed his arm and forced him to turn to the side without bothering to listen to his idiotic protests. Perhaps she was being a little rough with him- especially considering his injury- but she didn’t dwell on it much.
Her breath hitched when she caught sight of the damage. He’d obviously been struck with a blunt object with more than enough strength to knock somebody else out, leaving a nasty gash on the back of his head.
“Oh my god- When did this happen?! We have to-“ She moved to call out to the others, who were still wandering ahead, but a gentle hand fell over her mouth. She froze.
“Please don’t,” Vash whispered and it was almost pleading. Meryl was about to shove his hand away, a lecture about taking care of himself on the tip of her tongue. But when she looked at him, she didn’t see the recklessness she’d come to expect. Looking into his eyes, much closer now, she only saw a deep, aching fatigue.
Meryl finally pushed his hand away, but (against her better judgement) kept her mouth shut.
“They’re probably going to notice anyway,” she reminded him sternly, though her voice was quiet.
“I know,” he replied.
“I’m going to take a closer look once we settle for the night,” she decided.
“Okay,” he conceded without even a semblance of a fight.
“And you aren’t going to try to wander off without me noticing,” she added, a little unnecessarily.
“Yes ma’am.”
Satisfied for the time being, Meryl reached into her bag and retrieved her canteen and a spare cloth. She dampened the fabric and wordlessly passed it to Vash.
“At least clean your hand. That’ll give you away for sure,” she muttered. It was almost comedic the way Vash’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, brows pulled together in confusion. He glanced down at his own hands.
“Ah. I didn’t realize.” Meryl hoped to god he didn’t have brain damage.
. . .
The hour it took for the suns to set was the longest Meryl had ever experienced. Walking miles through the desert was already a nightmare, and doing it in a tense silence made it positively miserable. Her entire body ached and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking herself into oblivion since seeing that shock of red. Every step in the sand came with the conscious effort to not turn around- to not pounce on the brave idiot that was driving her to the brink of insanity.
It was agonizing, listening to his footsteps from two meters ahead, trying her best to discern his state through every change in rhythm. Occasionally the soft sounds would stagger, as if he’d stumbled over his own feet. It made her crazy.
She was itching to do something, or even just say something. Ever since JuLai, Meryl had been haunted by her indecision. Everything she hadn’t done, everything she hadn’t noticed, every moment she’d hesitated. If she had done something- anything- maybe there was a chance things would’ve turned out differently.
Roberto’s derringer was heavy in its holster. She wondered if she’d been nearby when it happened. If she could’ve done something. It ate her up inside, the possibility that she’d stood by, idle and oblivious, as another person she cared about was hurt. She was sick of being off to the side, never knowing what to do. She was sick of seeing the blood of her loved ones and knowing she could’ve done something to prevent it.
She was being irrational. She knew that. Vash was still standing and could withstand a great deal more than he let on. Meryl wasn’t sure about the details of plant biology, but she knew Vash’s body had self-healing qualities. He wasn’t going to die.
But he’d still gotten hurt badly enough to leave him like… that. And maybe death didn’t have to be the catalyst for her to care. She wished she’d been there. That she could’ve protected him, the way he’s done for others time and time again. She wished he’d let her.
She wanted to move, to act, but the memory of that look in his eyes stopped her. It was so obvious to her in the moment that all Vash wanted was to exist quietly after a brutal day. She doubted it was a lack of trust or self-preservation, he was just… so tired.
The suns had just barely disappeared, the last remnants of amber bleeding out of the night sky, when Wolfwood dragged her out of her own head.
“There’s a rock formation up ahead. We can camp out there for the night,” he called over his shoulder without even looking. Milly cheered and Meryl decided to forego her typical sarcastic reply to an order from Wolfwood, all too relieved by the words.
The moment her luggage was off her shoulders, the last of her energy went with it. If she sat down now, she wouldn’t be getting back up for a good long while.
She spared a glance at Vash, who hadn’t said a word for the rest of their journey. He looked the same as ever from afar. She remained standing.
“Hey, Needle-Noggin! Why don’t you be a good boy and fetch me the fire wood?” Wolfwood sneered and on any other day, Meryl would’ve laughed at how easily Vash did what he was told. Now it only made her chest hurt. It was strange watching him move so casually with his hood drawn over his head. Somehow, it felt lonely.
“Let me help you with that, Meryl!” Milly appeared beside her, snapping her out of her thoughts by grabbing the tent with a bright smile. Meryl wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for or envious of the energy she somehow still had. She was stuck on autopilot as she followed Milly to the tallest of the rocks they’d found.
The barrier helped block the wind for the most part, thankfully allowing the tent to stay upright without too much trouble. By the time they’d finished their task, Wolfwood had succeeded in starting up a campfire.
“See, Meryl? This isn’t too bad! In fact, it reminds me of the times I went camping with my family!” Milly beamed as they all gathered around the warmth of the flames. The desert was cooling down fast.
“Mhm,” she replied halfheartedly, offering Milly her best smile. Apparently reassured, Milly turned her attention to Vash.
“Mister Vash, will you help me bring the food over? I’m starving!”
Vash immediately straightened up with a smile. The firelight reflecting off his glasses made it impossible to tell, but Meryl was sure it didn’t reach his eyes.
Meryl forced herself to look away. She needed to stop spiraling and start thinking about what she was going to say to him. She knew what she wanted to get across, but couldn’t seem to articulate it.
A loud, grumbling sigh startled her. She’d forgotten Wolfwood was still next to her.
“You’re handling blondie, yeah?”
Meryl only blinked at him for a long moment. Then she comprehended his words and was confused for a whole new reason.
“I- huh?” She replied eloquently.
“You noticed before I did,” Wolfwood huffed, placing a cigarette between his lips. He took his time lighting it. “You’re gonna knock some sense into him aren’t ‘cha? Or at least try to,” he muttered and took a deep breath in, adding his smoke to that of the fire.
Meryl couldn’t help her surprise. Wolfwood was observant, but he was also constantly on Vash’s case about pretty much anything. She was certain that if he’d noticed something this moronic, he would’ve let the whole world know by now. “Um. Yeah. When did you-“
“When we stopped to set up camp,” he answered without waiting for her to finish. “It was real obvious the second he was up close. But I figured it wasn’t worth the hassle since he’d listen to you before me any day,” he explained through another puff of smoke, as if it really was that simple.
Meryl sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t know about that,” she argued weakly, mostly just because it felt like what she was supposed to say.
Wolfwood gave her a look that screamed ‘Wow, I really thought you were smarter than that’ but kept his mouth shut as Milly returned to the fire, trailed by the subject of their conversation.
Chatter flowed with relative ease as they ate, though it was primarily between Milly and Wolfwood. She was telling a story she’d definitely already told before when Meryl caught Wolfwood’s eye from across the campfire. She gave half a nod, an overly serious expression stuck on her face. Wolfwood didn’t react, but she knew from the way his gaze lingered on her that he understood.
She could handle this.
. . .
Milly fell asleep almost immediately after dinner, leaving Meryl with nothing left to do but talk to Vash. She’d never been good at talking. Despite her strengths as a writer, she sucked at saying what she wanted to say out loud. Especially when it came to Vash. She was constantly terrified of saying too much, of revealing just how deeply she cared about him, and it often left her with nothing to say at all.
Meryl did her best to swallow her nerves as she left the tent. The bite of the wind was starting, the previously tolerable cold seeping through her jacket and nipping at her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to fight off the inevitable discomfort.
Wolfwood was sat by the fire with a fresh cigarette in his mouth, pretending not to notice her. Vash was fiddling with his sleeping bag closer to where she was standing, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from worn out fabric.
She didn’t know what to say when their eyes met, so she silently nodded away from camp. He stood up without a second thought, leaving everything behind to follow her into the cold, moonlit desert. They began walking along the sand-weathered stones, side by side.
As they walked, Meryl allowed herself to really look at him. Slumped shoulders, dark eye bags, tangled spikes. He looked terrible now that he wasn’t pretending anymore. But perhaps his fatigue being visible was progress in itself.
Vash had always had a sort of subdued melancholy about him, even before she’d learned the extent of his history. It was always evident after a messy day that the grief Vash felt was more than just a reaction, it was something that existed in him constantly. It was uncanny every time his cheerful demeanor was chipped away, leaving a window to the sorrow that he’d long grown accustomed to. A reminder that he carried the weight of every calamity with every breath he took. That guilt never left him, but he’d eventually learned to live around it.
It was only tonight that Meryl realized just how truly, terribly tired he was. It was far beyond anything physical. Having a body that could bounce back from bullet holes like they were paper cuts had little to do with the constant emotional labor.
As Meryl sat him down on the last one of the rocks, the campfire now a faint flicker of light in the distance, it was somehow less about taking care of his injury, and more about taking care of him. Proving to both of them that she could be there for him.
She pulled his hood down, gazing at him for another long moment before she had to speak.
“How long had it been before I noticed?” She asked, mostly just to fill the silence at first. She fiddled with the contents of her pockets; a bunch of paraphernalia she’d figured might come in handy for first aid. She knew much of it wouldn’t see any use, but it was comforting to have something resembling a backup plan at the ready.
Vash made a noncommittal sound with a halfhearted shrug. “Half an hour. Maybe more. Or less.”
Meryl sighed, stepping around him. She reached forward, hesitating for only a moment before parting his hair around the cut. Just as she thought, it was already mostly healed. The skin was still irritated, but the blood was all old news. Damage assessed, all she could do was get to work.
For a while, she neglected to speak, silently going about her task of wetting a cloth and attempting to coax the blood from his hair. She took her time, keeping her touch as light as possible. She could tell it hurt regardless. She had to move on eventually. His hair was still stained a pale pink, but at least it wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as having it matted with blood.
She reached into her pocket again and tore open a small packet. From inside, she unfolded a sterile alcohol wipe.
“It’ll sting,” Meryl warned and Vash only hummed. He barely reacted when she cleaned the wound itself, and something about that only made her feel worse.
“I’ll heal on my own, y’know,” Vash told her softly, not exactly a complaint. It was almost apologetic.
Meryl grumbled in lieu of a response. She distracted herself with the responsibility of playing doctor, but she knew there wasn’t much point in doing more in regard to first aid. She'd known this whole time, and she was sure he did too, yet abandoning her only excuse for this quiet moment was still so terribly daunting. As she set the bloodied items in the sand, she resigned herself to being honest.
Perhaps she was being self-indulgent as she reached forward again, running gentle hands through his hair. Then again, maybe that didn’t matter, because Vash finally seemed to relax, if only a fraction. She allowed them this small mercy, a brief quiet with trembling hands etching comfort into messy hair.
Soon enough, it would have to be broken. Slowly, she dropped her hands.
It was heartbreaking, the way Vash immediately turned to look at her, eyes wide with uncertainty. She could see muffled fear in them, smothered under layers and layers of faux detachment. The fear of her leaving.
“I know you'll heal,” she admitted gently, before she lost the will to speak altogether, and stepped around him so they were face to face. She kept herself close to him, grounding her sneakers firmly between his boots. “But it hurt, didn’t it?”
Vash stared at her for a long moment, brows slightly raised. Then his expression crumbled into something guilty, and that was the last thing she wanted.
“Not really- I mean, yeah, it did, but not too bad. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he deflected messily, waving his prosthetic hand in dismissal.
Meryl, unsure how to get through to him with words, went through with the first stupid urge she had. With cold, trembling hands, she reached for him.
She ghosted her fingertips across his cheeks, barely touching him at all, coaxing Vash to just look at her.
She was sure he saw it in her face. The horrible conflict that couldn’t seem to translate into speech. She was sure he saw that awful sympathy and, mortifyingly, her desperation to tell him things she couldn’t. She was sure he understood she cared, but not how much.
His reaction was almost immediate. The tension in his shoulders melted away and he pressed his face into her palm with an aching exhaustion. Battered and tired and a little miserable, Vash sought her comfort.
Meryl gave it to him without pause, holding his face with more confidence. He closed his eyes as she brushed her thumbs across his skin, hoping- praying- that her touch was enough to soothe some of the pain and fear behind his eyes.
“I only wish you’d told me,” she whispered. Vash opened his eyes, looking up at her. He opened his mouth but faltered, searching her face for something.
Eventually he replied, “I know. I wasn’t lagging behind to try to hide it, healing just takes a lot of energy so I was kinda drained.”
Meryl’s expression tightened slightly with muted sadness. She huffed a soft sigh, shaking her head.
“Wouldn’t you want me to tell you if I’d gotten hurt?”
Vash’s eyes immediately widened with concern. “Of course I would, but that’s-“
“It’s not any different.”
Meryl took a moment to brush his hair from his eyes before returning her palm to his cheek. The motion seemed to soothe him somewhat, though his expression was still tense.
“Even if your body can withstand more than mine could, I still want to know when you’re in pain. Maybe you don’t really need medical attention, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer by yourself,” she murmured, slow and deliberate. “Besides, I’m tougher than I look, and that’s never stopped you from worrying about me,” she added with a small smile.
Vash broke into a laugh, smiling against her hand. “Tough, sure. But impervious to gunfire?” He challenged, not unkindly. Meryl sighed.
“The point is that we care about each other, Vash. And pain doesn’t have to be life-threatening to matter. I want to know when you’re hurting- even if it’s not physical, or if it’s barely a scratch to you. I want to know so that I can be there for you, however I can. Whether that be bandaging you up or just…” she paused briefly, drawing their faces a little closer. “Staying by your side until it’s easier.”
Vash’s eyes flashed with something mournful, and Meryl could feel the way his jaw tightened under her hand. He chuckled, strained and almost defeated.
“Guess I can’t argue with that,” he managed through the obvious lump in his throat. Meryl offered him a smile, warm in spite of the way it shook.
Carefully, she slid her hands from his face and wrapped them around his neck, mindful of his injury as she drew him in. Vash made no effort to disguise the way he crumbled into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her shoulder.
“You’re strong, Vash. But you still feel everything you’re put through,” she whispered, tracing gentle patterns at the back of his neck. He only melted further into her. “I just… want you to feel like you can lean on me. Seeing you like that after we left town-“ her breath caught in her throat. Vash held her a little tighter in response. She carried on.
“It scared me. Really bad. Not because you were dying but because you’d gotten hurt and I didn’t even realize and it could’ve been something worse and-“ Against her will, she was losing her cool pretty rapidly here. Yet somehow, she couldn’t seem to stop. The words poured out of her, having waited a lifetime to escape her chest. “Ever since JuLai, I haven’t been able to shake the regret of everything I didn’t do. If I had known what to do- or if I had just done anything sooner- maybe Roberto…”
Vash attempted to pull away, to look at her expression, but she tightened her hold on him, keeping him close in a brief panic. This was the ‘too much’ she was terrified of saying, and she didn’t want to see the consequences written all over his face.
“I thought I’d lost you too, and when you came back I swore I’d make up for not being there in JuLai- I promised myself I’d never let another person I love die- not without one hell of a fight,” she choked back tears, dry and painful. “And it scared me so bad to see you hurt because I wasn’t there- I didn’t even know- I didn’t-“
Vash finally broke free of her vice grip, holding her back by the shoulders with wide, wet, woeful eyes. “Meryl, this- none of this is your fault. Nothing that has happened has ever been your fault,” he cut in vehemently. Tears threatened to spill over and she regretfully pulled a hand from around his neck to scrub at her eyes.
“This isn’t supposed to be about me!” She huffed, frustrated by her own misspeaking. She was so sick of catastrophizing in her head and the last thing she wanted was to burden him with that now. “That’s not the point- The point is that I can’t lose you!”
Vash’s eyes widened in a heartbreaking display of shock. She could see tears in them. Hers were already falling.
“Nothing scares me more than the idea of you being taken from me while I’m powerless to stop it.” she whispered, voice cracking right down the middle. “I wouldn’t be able to take it a second time-”
She cradled his face in her hands again, pushing his glasses slightly askew to catch his tears as they fell.
“So please, let me be there for you. Even if it’s not an injury- even if it’s just the weight of your heart- don’t leave me powerless to help you. Don’t hide it away until it drives you to do something stupid and reckless all over again- Please, just let me make sure you’ll come back to me.”
Vash stared at her for a long time as she brushed away his silent but steady tears. She wasn’t sure she said the right thing, but she’d meant every word of it. Now he knew. And no matter what came next, maybe that was enough. She wanted it to be enough.
“I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me,” Vash admitted eventually, voice small and broken. Meryl’s heart fractured a little further.
“I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt while I’m not there to help you,” she countered simply.
“It’s not the same thing. You had nothing to do with this- you’re wrapped up in so much danger because of me,” he argued, weak but painfully honest. It was evident now that he didn’t want her to leave, but the guilt he felt was too immense to keep her close.
“I made the decision to chase you down, over and over again. I had every opportunity to get myself out of trouble- hell, Roberto begged me to let you go too many times to count,” she laughed a bittersweet sound. “It’s always been my choice. And it will continue to be for the rest of my life,” she vowed, unconcerned by the absurd implications lingering beneath her words.
Vash laughed, soft and tired. “I guess we both want the same thing in the end, we just have different ideas of how to get it,” he muttered, failing to look her in the eyes. She knew what he meant.
They both wanted nothing more than for the other to be safe and free from the pain that this planet had in abundance. Vash wanted Meryl to hide from the destruction that trailed wherever he went, to live out a peaceful and quiet existence far away from his own continuous battle. Meryl wanted to fight that battle alongside him, to do everything in her power to protect and support him until there wasn’t any danger left to resist.
But more than that, what they wanted was a world where they didn’t need to fight and flee endlessly just for another day together. An uneventful future where the safety of the other was an expectation, not something in need of constant defense.
All they wanted was to love without fear.
“I could never stop following you. I could never just leave this all behind and pretend It never happened. Meeting you opened my eyes to so much, and now I’ll never see the world in the same way,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his. “You said it yourself, we want the same thing. I want to help you build your world of love and peace.” For once, she felt satisfied with her own words, smiling through the last of her tears.
Vash’s face twisted with emotion as he caved into her again, holder her tighter than she’d ever been held before. They seemed to have come to an understanding.
Meryl wasn’t going to leave. Not now, and not when things got harder. He could list off a million reasons for why she should, and she would hear each and every one without taking a single step back. He would never convince her, and in the end, he didn’t want to.
She could feel his struggle in the way he gripped her, arms trembling and uncomfortably tight.
The desire to give in, to hold her and be held in return, grappled with the knowledge that he shouldn’t, that it wasn’t what was best for her. His tired mind screaming contradictory demands. Let go, hold on, stay away, get closer-
He held her rigidly, like it would be the last time he ever could. She held him softly, like she had an eternity to soak in the feeling.
After a minute or an hour or maybe a lifetime, Vash’s arms went slack. For a moment, Meryl was terrified he’d pull away, that she’d misjudged everything and he was making the decision she feared most.
But he stayed there, body heavy and warm against hers. In some way, he had made peace with this fragile closeness even if his body still shook with the weight of it.
Instead of pulling away, he offered up a fragile oath. An attempt to reconcile the overwhelming need to protect her, and the selfish longing to have her close.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered against her shoulder.
Meryl didn’t miss a beat. “And I’ll do the same for you.”
Vash was silent for a long time, trembling in her arms in a way she’d never known he could.
“We’ll do this together,” she promised, brushing a kiss against his temple as proof.
Vash pulled her a little closer.
“Together,” he echoed and it wasn’t an admission or acceptance, but it was a promise in return all the same. A promise to try. She knew this wouldn’t come easily to either of them, and she was okay with that.
She knew her fear and guilt wouldn’t evaporate with a promise alone. She knew the pressure of keeping her loved ones safe wouldn’t be any easier to handle than it was yesterday.
She knew Vash wouldn’t be able to bring himself to tell her the worst of his troubles. She knew he wouldn’t get used to being honest with his limits overnight.
Old habits are hard to break.
But in the morning, he won’t shy away when she checks his injury. Tomorrow, he’ll allow her to take the first watch and get some sleep. The next day, he’ll admit when he’s drained after a fight. The day after that, he’ll let his hand be held and feel the warmth of its comfort. Slowly but surely, he’ll adjust to having someone next to him. And maybe one day, in the future they’ve built, there won’t be any pain to hide at all.