Work Text:
"Stay here."
Meryl already doesn't like where this is going. Wolfwood's gripping the Punisher in one hand when he turns to her, the other looping around to grab the back of her neck. She goes to protest, to tell him he's being ridiculous and she's not letting him run off and do something stupid, when he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead.
It's gentle. The kind of gesture reserved for quiet moments shared between them and Vash in the private of closed doors. The kind of thing he only really does on rare occasions, his usual form of love language with her is a mix of bickering and teasing.
"Please," he whispers, lips still against her skin. "Please stay here."
She knows he and Vash worry about her. Can't always keep track of her in chaotic situations. And while she can hold her own she's less sturdy than either of them. Wolfwood sounds almost scared, begging her like this to just stay put for once. Things are bad. He must not know if he and Vash will even be okay.
Panic flares and her eyes swim with tears. Meryl reaches out and grabs his shirt with both hands, desperately yanking him back when he goes to pull away.
"No, no no no–"
Wolfwood’s hand wraps around one of her’s. He’s still being too gentle with her, coaxing her fingers open and off his shirt. Like he’s extracting something they shouldn’t have from a child’s grasp. Meryl grips tighter at his shirt with her other hand and chokes down a sob. She doesn’t want to cry, she wants to scream at him and tell him he’s stupid–they’re both stupid. But the icy fear gripping her chest won’t let anything but panicked whimpering come out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, gently pulling her other hand off his shirt. He lingers a moment, holding it while she grasps at his fingers and gasps for air. She can’t even look at his face, his own eyes too painfully full of remorse over upsetting her.
He won’t tell her it’s going to be okay. Because he doesn’t know.
There’s a commotion behind him and Wolfwood tenses, squeezing at her hand before letting it go. Vash needs him. And Vash needs her to stay where she is, out of danger. She knows this, understands it in theory, but feeling so powerless in a situation that they’re risking their lives in feels like Meryl’s being ripped apart.
He’s left her alone “for her own good” before. Years not knowing if Vash was alive and years of seeing Wolfwood once in a blue moon, looking more ragged and skinny than the last time. She’s barely gotten over the ache in her chest that caused and now this?
Wolfwood cups her cheek and wipes one of her tears away with his thumb. Meryl still wants to punch him and still wants to cling to him for dear life and still knows she’s not allowed to do either. He still won’t say it’s going to be okay, no matter how much he wants to.
Instead, he just says, “Please,” one more time before letting go of her face and leaving. So Meryl buries her face in her hands and sinks down to sit on the floor.
She knows one day he won’t come back, deep in her gut she swears she knows. Even if he does this time. Even if hours later, bloody and broken but still breathing, he and Vash haul each other back to find her, Meryl knows one day they won’t. And she knows all they want is for her to be safe. So all she can do is stay behind and hope it’s not goodbye for good.