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There You Are
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Vash woke to a pounding in his head. It felt like he’d been smashed in the face by a ton of bricks.
His eyes fluttered half open, and he instantly regretted it. He folded his arm over his face to block the light.
Groaning, he began to push himself up. As he did, he noticed a warm weight resting against his right side.
He blinked, thoughts sluggish. Taking in his surroundings, he tried to figure out where he was. A sense of deja vu washed over him.
The sterile, atypically clean smell and the welcoming resonance of a small yet cozy room hit him all at once. He made out the familiar shiny, nickel-gray walls from where he lay. The interior design was unmistakable from his many years of memorizing these four walls.
Was he… Was he Home?
The weight pressing against his side shifted, and Vash snapped his gaze to his right. If he hadn’t woken in his own bedroom back Home, he would’ve leaped out of bed in a panic. Instead, he tensed and held his breath, assessing any potential threat.
He discovered a small-framed person half seated in a chair and half lying on the edge of his bed. The person’s head rested in the crook of their arms. Short-cropped, black hair shone with indigo highlights that reminded Vash of the night sky.
Vash could make out quiet, breathy snores as they slept.
He didn’t dare make any sudden movements with… whoever this was… with them napping practically on his lap.
But something about their iridescent black hair and mere presence seemed strangely familiar. Vash couldn’t help but reach out and brush his fingers gingerly through the silky strands. It was such a subconscious, instinctual gesture, but it felt so right.
When the person shifted again, beginning to awaken from their nap, Vash immediately pulled his hand away. His heart started to race, worried they’d react poorly.
What was happening? Why did he just do that?
“Mmm, feels nice,” a wispy feminine voice whispered.
Vash froze. And why was there some tiny woman sleeping here?
Her voice sounded oh so familiar too, but Vash still couldn’t quite place it. The girl snuggled further into the bedsheets, nuzzling her head into his waist.
“Umm, excuse me, miss?” Vash tried, squirming a bit to sit fully upright.
“Hm? Vash, don’ havta run anymore.” Her voice was still an airy, slurred mumble.
Was she… sleeptalking?
Her sentiment conveyed a sense of comfort and protectiveness Vash wasn’t expecting at all. His heart continued its accelerated beat, but less from panic and more from some other overwhelming emotion.
Vash placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge. “Miss? Hello?” he said a little louder.
The girl shifted more, surely awakening further. She was just sitting up when the room door whirred and slid open.
A tall woman stepped into the room. She paused midstep through the threshold, carrying a loaded food tray. Her long golden-brown hair tied in a ponytail swayed as she stopped, and her crystal blue eyes lit up.
Vash had no idea who she was. Given her outsider attire, the woman was unlikely to be someone from the crew. Strangely, though, there was the slightest sense of recognition.
“Oh! Hello, Mr. Vash! I’m so happy to see you’re awake!” the woman said. Her voice was so peppy and light. A wide smile stretched over her face.
The way she said his name with such friendliness threw Vash off guard. He worried that he should know her. His brow furrowed as he wracked his brain for a name.
“Ah, h-hello!” he replied with a mirrored grin, with a short, nervous chuckle.
The weight of the small woman resting against his side finally lifted. Vash and the unfamiliar woman at his door turned to look.
The black-haired woman sat upright in her seat, rubbing an eye. A few shallow lines wove across her cheek from the wrinkled sheets.
She froze for a moment, fist curled against her one eye. The other eye went wide, and her hand dropped to her lap. She stood abruptly, almost knocking over her chair. “Vash! You’re awake!”
The woman launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Vash almost fell back onto the mattress, but she was so light that he easily kept them upright.
The sudden intimacy caused him to stiffen, unsure how to respond. But her bold hug felt like something he had missed for so long. He couldn’t resist returning it, his hand reaching up to brush through her soft hair again.
When he felt the girl begin to shudder against him, he lowered his hand to rub soothing circles on her back. His eyes drooped closed, just taking in this unexpected gift of compassion.
He could feel warm tears dampening the front of his shirt. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest.
Besides Lina and Granny Sheryl, he hadn’t felt this kind of physical closeness to anyone in such a long time. A part of his mind screamed that he should be pulling away, but another, stronger part demanded he pull her closer.
He chuckled a bit at the oddness of the whole situation.
Movement from the doorframe caught Vash’s attention. The tall golden-haired girl walked a few steps and set the food tray on his writing table.
She smiled again, and a faint blush dusted her round, freckled cheeks.
“I’ll let you two catch up. Your family is eager to say hi and check up on you, though. Don’t keep them waiting too long, Mr. Vash!”
She gave him a wink and strode to the door. She turned over her shoulder. “And don’t you dare make Miss Meryl cry anymore, okay?” She took her leave, and the sliding door closed with a click.
Vash’s eyes went wide. He nudged the black-haired woman away from him to get a good look at her. Teary, violet-blue eyes blinked back at him.
“Meryl?” Vash asked in a disbelieving whisper.
“Vash?” she replied, surely noticing his uncertainty.
He grinned wide, taking in the face he could only see in fleeting glimpses of his memories and the brief, hazy memory shared by his Plant sister in Ripmela.
All the teasing Wolfwood put him through wasn’t for nothing. That odd pang of knowing something was missing was already fading.
Vash wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisting her against him. He jumped out of bed, almost tripping over the bedsheets.
“Oh! This is a great day!!” Vash shouted for joy. He began to laugh full-heartedly, swinging the small woman around his tiny room.
“Ugh! Vash?! What—Let me down, doofus!” Meryl cried in alarm. Although he had her one arm pinned, she wrapped her other around his neck to keep herself steady.
Vash’s tears dripped down his cheeks. He rubbed his face against the top of her head, her hair tickling him.
“You’re real! You’re really, really real!” Vash cried, still spinning throughout the room.
“Of course I’m real, you broomhead!” Meryl squirmed, but she couldn’t help but laugh too. She raised a fist, wagging it threateningly. “Put me down already!”
Vash was so overjoyed she was real and alive and here and not a figment of his imagination. And, oh goodness, he wanted to remember her like he’d begun to remember other things and other people, just like Wolfwood.
When he didn’t put her down right away, she bonked him on the head. He should’ve listened, but he didn’t care.
The nerve! Oh, but did that hurt in a good way!
He set her down but didn’t let go yet. “Ow! Hey, I’m injured, remember?” He pouted and gave her his signature puppy dog eyes, which always worked on Granny and Lina.
He finally let her out of his embrace, but she didn’t step away.
Vash rubbed at the sore spot on his head and then scrubbed a palm over his face. He noticed a few bandages stuck on his cheeks and a mild throbbing in his jaw.
“Oh, I remember! We had to cart your butt back Home after you got yourself knocked silly!” Meryl scoffed. All bark, no bite.
Even though she gave him her best stink eye, Vash felt some part of their past connection starting to rekindle.
For a few moments, they just stood, taking each other in. Feeling exhaustion creep back in, Vash took a seat on the edge of the bed, and Meryl sat beside him.
He didn’t quite know what more to say. Try as he might, the memories of Meryl continued to hide in his periphery.
Did she know of his amnesia? Had she run into Wolfwood? Did he tell her?
As if she read his mind, she spoke up first, her voice sobered and soft. “Wolfwood found you? He helped us… in the sandsteamer after you fell unconscious…” She paused to catch his eye, biting her lip.
Vash tried for a reassuring smile, but he bet it came off as nervous-looking as he felt. He quickly turned to look at his hand in his lap. His blond bangs fell into his face, his hair mused from sleeping, no longer swept back like he’d been styling it since his return.
He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Since JuLai—well, before JuLai—I’ve had trouble remembering everything… Wolfwood found me living in Kasted City.
“When I wound up there, I was in, uh, a bad place, but some folks helped me—pulled me away from the brink. I didn’t want to face what happened. I couldn’t…”
He could sense his memories wanting to return, but he didn’t know if he could handle it fully right there and then. He pushed up the barriers again, each brick in the wall heavier than the last.
The resistance twisted something sharp and sickening in his stomach.
Meryl walked her hand to rest next to his—an invitation. He hesitantly took her hand in his, and she squeezed his back. That simple gesture grounded him.
“After two years, I thought I’d found myself... But I wasn’t really me. Somehow, no one recognized me the whole time. It was… peaceful. But it couldn’t last.” Vash sighed, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles.
After a few moments, Meryl spoke up ever so softly. “And just now… When you asked if I was real?”
Vash pulled his hand away, feeling ashamed and undeserving of this closeness.
Opening up like this suddenly felt wrong. Being so transparent was unlike him, even with people he knew fairly well.
He’d begun remembering some things through his connection with Wolfwood, but he’d had days to reknit those memories.
However, he couldn’t yet piece together the puzzle—the full picture—of Meryl.
How would Meryl feel to hear that he didn’t know her? It wasn’t fair to her for Vash to act so close, so familiar, without his honesty.
“Your voice,” Vash managed. “I don’t think I ever forgot it. I remember waking from a dream—a nightmare—hearing your voice.”
Meryl left her hand resting on the bed, but he noticed she’d clenched the sheets between her fingers. Her other hand came around her torso to hold the opposite arm in a self-soothing gesture.
The woman was quiet, likely recollecting as well. “In JuLai. When you were… When Knives…” She lifted the back of her palm over her mouth, stifling a sob. “You said you heard her voice through me.”
“Vash! Vash!”
An endless expanse of nothingness—of loneliness and despair. An expanding field of red flowers, growing as far as the eye can see. Crimson geranium petals, swirling and transforming. Soaring ribbons, leading him away from the darkness.
Rem .
“I’m so sorry I left you alone. But I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know I’ve lived on through you. Thank you for protecting my hopes, my dreams, my perfect boy.”
Vash gasped. The vision replayed before his eyes in vivid detail—a memory from that awful hellscape conjured by his brother.
The mental prison where Knives tried to break his psyche into millions of tiny pieces. Where his memories, emotions, and free will were pried and lied away from him.
Vash’s mind wandered lost in the ether.
Until two voices called out for him.
“Vash! Vash, please wake up!”
A bright light shined through the darkness.
Through Meryl’s desperation and determination, he’d been able to escape the hellscape. Vash ripped his independence and memories right back out of his brother’s grasp.
After being saved once, how could he have forgotten all over again?
“Vash?” Meryl’s voice coaxed him to the present yet again.
The one person who found him when he’d lost himself sat beside him now. How could he ever return the favor?
He looked deep into her eyes, pleading his mind to mend itself.
“Vash?”
A spark flickered.
The vivid colors leached away from Meryl finally painted back over her features, restoring her to full beauty.
Something must have crossed his face because Meryl gave the most tender smile.
“There you are,” she whispered.
How could she sit next to him like she didn’t want to be anywhere else? Like she wasn’t disgusted and full of hatred?
Vash dropped his head into his hand and let himself mourn once again for all the atrocities he and his brother committed. He mourned for being weak, erasing that guilt from his mind in order to survive, while hundreds of thousands of innocents perished from his mistakes.
How could he go on like this?
When Meryl scooted even closer and tucked his head under her chin, it was like a dam ruptured.
Everything he’d kept buried for years rose to the surface, no longer contained by his scarred skin and soul.
Everything since first listening to the radio broadcasts about the utter destruction of the mighty Third City of JuLai; overhearing neighbors and friends curse his name; knowing criminals stole his identity for their own brutal agendas; and Wolfwood reappearing with news of Knives’s recovery.
It wasn’t Nai who lived. Only Knives survived.
An anguished cry forced its way out, and Vash’s whole body shook with guilty sobs.
It was Meryl’s turn to comb her fingers through his hair, returning the soothing gesture he shared earlier.
It felt so good to be in the arms of someone who knew him and didn’t run away. Someone who reassured him he didn’t have to run anymore.
But Vash couldn’t stop yet.
He didn’t deserve this solace or respite. Because he didn’t know if he had the strength to do what was needed when the time came.
He didn’t deserve Meryl or Wolfwood. Or Brad, Luida, Granny, or Lina.
And he surely didn’t deserve to cry. But this time, he let himself cry anyway.
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Cracked Toma Eggs
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“You should go be with them,” the gorgeous big girl said. Milly was her name Wolfwood had learned. The woman raised a forkful of food to her mouth from her almost empty dinner plate. Wolfwood’s own was gobbled down twenty minutes ago.
“Nah, let Shorty have her moment.” Wolfwood waved a hand dismissively. He rocked back in his chair at the round table across from Milly, feet propped up on another.
“I think they’d want you to be there,” she added. Milly leaned forward on the edge of her seat. Her pretty brown hair was wrapped up in a towel to dry after taking a shower.
It was just Wolfwood and Milly at the moment. They’d hunkered down in a fancy schmancy suite on Ship Three to wash up and get some rest, courtesy of Miss Luida.
Shorty had refused to leave Blondie’s side since they’d boarded and got him tucked in nice and cozy in his own bed.
It’d already been half a day since Grandpa—er, Brad—escorted the motley crew onto Ship Three. Even with the sandstorm cloaking the spaceship, the dark void outside the windows indicated it was well into the night.
Vash and Wolfwood had been traveling on their way north, while apparently, the Little Lady and her newbie reporter were heading south from December on a mission to track down the recently presumed dead Vash the Stampede. And by some miracle, the four of them found each other in Ripmela of all places—a city halfway between Augusta and December.
Wolfwood couldn’t believe his eyes earlier that day when he noticed the vessel hovering in the midst of the sandstorm raging over the city. He knew it’d only be a matter of time before the crew dropped down on a mission to find Needle Noggin. Again. Just like two years ago on the friggin’ Humpback.
There’d been such an uproar when they boarded. All the crew out of cryosleep were outta their minds to hear Vash was alive and back Home. Brad and security helped shoo the vulture worms, but it took a while for folks to settle down.
And now Wolfwood, Big Girl, and Shorty were just biding their time, waiting for sleeping beauty to awaken. Wolfwood seriously hoped it wasn’t gonna take Blondie three days again.
It’d been a good while since Milly came barreling back into their suite after going to check in on Meryl and drop off dinner. To Wolfwood’s relief, she brought news that Vash finally returned from dreamland.
And it’d been long enough for Shorty to have some alone time with Blondie. Wolfwood could relax more if one or both of them were around. (Not that he’d admit that to anyone.)
Wolfwood tolerated waiting half a day, he could wait another ten minutes. Twenty tops.
However, being onboard Ship Three made his skin crawl, and his flight or fight response was stuck in overdrive. As homey as the ship might be to its crew, it reminded Wolfwood of places he’d rather not think about.
“Don’t you think so too, Mr. Priest?” Milly asked again.
“Hmph. What makes ya think that?” Wolfwood asked, getting annoyed with the attempts to get him to check on Vash and Meryl.
His knee bounced from a lack of smoking for hours on end. And he’d run out of lollipops. He was going stir-crazy. Maybe getting up would help.
Milly smiled with an unnerving twinkle in her eyes. The girl clearly knew something Wolfwood didn’t.
“Trust me,” Milly said with a little giggle. “You care about them, don’t you? I’m sure it would make them happy to have you all together again. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Big Girl gave him such a genuine, beautiful smile that it was hard to say no to the woman. He didn’t want to see her sad for refusing.
“Fine! But I’m blamin’ ya both when they kick me right back out!” Wolfwood lowered his feet and pushed off his knees, rising from the cushy seat.
Leaving the room, he walked the short distance down Ship Three’s dormitory hall. Only a few rooms down he found the door everyone had been eagerly, impatiently waiting for a certain blond dolt to skip out of.
Wolfwood stood in front of the closed door, considering turning back. This was a crap idea. He didn’t need to intrude on Shorty and Needle Noggin’s reunion. He wasn’t wanted.
Wolfwood turned on his heel, planning to sulk off to somewhere else on the ship.
He was only a few feelz down the hall when the door to Vash’s room slid open with a soft hiss.
Trepidation pooled in Wolfwood’s guts. He paused to glance over his shoulder.
“Nicholas?”
There stood Shorty, her eyes puffy and red. She wiped at her face although her rosy cheeks were already dry.
Wolfwood’s heart clenched. Damn that Blondie making her cry. Wolfwood frowned but didn’t turn fully.
“Yeah, Little Lady?”
“Where are you off to?” Of course, the way she asked sounded more like a scolding, ensuring he wasn’t up to mischief.
“Just takin’ a walk ta burn off some energy.”
“Oh, okay…” Meryl sounded so defeated.
Wolfwood grunted and took a few more steps away from the room.
“Wait!”
For some reason he did. He stopped and turned to face her fully.
“What’s ‘a matter? Need me to pummel Needle Noggin for ya?”
She sputtered. “No! Of course not.”
“Well? Whatcha want?”
“I—,” she paused. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” she mumbled.
Wolfwood’s shoulders dropped. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Back at’cha,” he said, not quite catching her eye.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment. Meryl wrung her hands on the jacket sleeves tied around her waist.
“How’s Blondie?”
A whole spectrum of emotions passed over Shorty’s face. She tilted her head toward the ceiling and the lights reflected off her glossy eyes. Her lips flickered from a wistful smile to a pout and back.
“He’s…” Meryl’s voice scratched. “He’s hurting.”
Wolfwood frowned.
He was used to Vash healing so quickly. Maybe something was more the matter with Blondie than he realized. He knew Vash took a hit from that Lobo freak, and then probably did some weird Plant things after the fight. Then with leaping into the Fris and Polo fiasco, and getting the snot beat outta him for nothing…
“I’ll grab the doc,” Wolfwood said. At least he could do this for the idiot.
“Nicholas.”
Twice now she called him by his first name. She’d never done that before. Why did it make him feel so light and heavy at the same time?
Because it was coming from her? Because Nicholas was the Punisher ?
Meryl startled him by grabbing his sleeve. He dug his hand out of his pocket as she pulled it closer. Wolfwood froze when she slid her hand down to hold his. Hers was so small and pale unlike his.
She grabbed her tank top in front of her heart with her other hand, tugging it into a tight bunch. “He’s hurting .”
Oh. Right. That kinda hurtin’.
And Wolfwood could tell that seeing Vash hurting, hurt her too. He wouldn’t dare call Meryl weak if he didn’t want to feel her wrath, but fuck, did she look as fragile as glass right now.
Wolfwood gulped. Shorty still grasped his hand like it was a lifeline.
Hell, his hand felt so cold and clammy compared to her soft and warm one.
“Oh.”
Meryl sniffed, her pout returned full force. “ ‘Oh? ’ Is that all you have to say?” Her voice rose into a shrill cry.
“I—,” Wolfwood floundered, trying to calm the flames before they turned into a wildfire. Stupid! Stupid! Say somethin’ better than that, moron!
Vash’s room door slid open—a saving grace.
“Meryl? Is everything o—,” Vash’s aqua blue eyes, unobscured without his glasses, caught Wolfwood’s. “—kay?”
Of course, the dolt had to smile so brightly like he was happy as could be. Vash’s eyes darted between the two of them and dropped to Wolfwood and Shorty’s held hands.
A surprised, almost confused look flitted across his face, but it quickly vanished.
Wolfwood yanked his hand out of Shorty’s grasp and shoved it back into his pocket. His face grew warm. Fuck, was he blushing?
“Vash! Yes, sorry, I got held up talking to Wolfwood. You know it’s been so long since I’ve seen either of you.” Meryl’s voice raised up a pitch. “Haha! Silly me! Let me run and get those towels for you! I’ll be right back!”
She took off down the hall in a power walk.
Wolfwood chuckled seeing the lady flustered and rambling. Oh, so she was embarrassed too, eh? He watched her fondly until she turned a corner.
His smirk dipped a little when he realized she’d reverted to calling him Wolfwood though. Like two years hadn’t passed.
“It must be like old times for you two, hm?” Vash said, pulling him back to the present.
Wolfwood rolled his eyes. He swung an arm over Blondie’s shoulder. “Whatchu mean ‘you two’? Remember, it was the three of us, my friend. Four, if ya count Grandpa Rob, god rest his soul.” He made a crude attempt at a holy prayer gesture thing but it probably wasn’t quite right. But he had to practice the priest act.
“Ah. Right,” Vash said, his face drooping. Even his spiky hair looked wilted. Vash glanced at him. Wolfwood could see the blankness, the light missing in his eyes.
Crap, the damn amnesia. He forgot to tell Shorty that Needle Noggin was partially an empty noggin.
No wonder they both looked like cracked toma eggs.
“Ah, hell. I shoulda told the Little Lady ya got scrambled brains,” Wolfwood mumbled, giving Vash a noogie. “How bad she take the news?”
“Ow! Ow! Not the head! Why do you both have to pick on me? I’m injured enough!” He tried faintly to wiggle out of his friend’s hold.
“Eh? Shorty give ya a good thumping already? Ya most definitely deserved it fer makin’ her worry this whole time!” Wolfwood snickered and pulled him in tighter. “Well? What’s the damage? How she copin’?”
Vash’s lips twitched from a smile to a small frown and back, just like Meryl’s had moments ago.
“Oh, ah, alright, I guess?” Blondie shrugged, the gesture hindered by Wolfwood draped over his shoulder.
With the motion, Wolfwood took his arm back, stepping to lean against the corridor wall.
“Hell of a day, huh? You doing alright, Needle Noggin?” Wolfwood asked casually. “Hadta cart yer scrawny ass here, and can’t even find a place to smoke. Yeesh,” he grumbled as an aside.
“Oh, me? Sure, just dandy!” Vash said with that fake-ass smile. “All rested up and back to tip-top shape.” He flexed a bicep, although the flex wasn’t nearly as impressive with just one arm.
Wolfwood rolled his eyes again. Although it infuriated him that Vash brushed off his worries and woes, Wolfwood wasn’t going to press the issue. Blondie had Shorty now. They were good for each other.
“Sure, sure. When’s Grandpa gonna make ya a new leftie anyway?”
“Hm? Oh, right! I mean left! Yes, that’s a good idea. Uh, have you seen Brad and Luida around?” Vash asked.
Wolfwood scoffed. “Only every hour or so. It’s either one of them or the Doc.”
Vash grinned so wide that Wolfwood couldn’t help but smile too. For once it was so genuine it hurt to know how fake and shallow all his other smiles were.
“Ya want me ta run and get ‘em for ya?” Wolfwood asked, pushing off the wall.
Vash’s smile vanished, and Wolfwood wished he hadn’t offered. The smile returned but it was only half-hearted. “In a bit. I’m still nervous to see them again.” Vash rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yer such a kid,” Wolfwood said. “Thought you were like a hundred an’ fifty-somethin’.”
Vash pouted, exactly like a petulant child. “What’s wrong with being a kid at heart??”
“‘Cause yer naive, and reckless, and ridiculous, and infuriating’!” Wolfwood spat with no malice.
“And always getting into trouble and getting boo-boos. You never brush your hair, and you eat too many sweets!”
Meryl’s voice sneaking up on the boys had them whipping around as if caught red-handed.
A stack of towels in Shorty’s arms rose up just under her eyes. Wolfwood could feel the hidden smirk burning into him from behind the pile.
She laughed, her eyes crinkling with mirth. The two men couldn’t help but laugh with her.
It really did feel like old times.
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