Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Life Thereafter ❯ Gratitude ( Chapter 22 )

Disclaimer: How I wish I owned Trigun. Sadly, I own it not.

 

A/N: I'm posting earlier today. Ain't it grand? Anyway, I had a great Thanksgiving, and I hope you guys did, too! Now, though, I'm feeling a bit sick. However, because I'm an extremely dedicated writer, I bring you another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

Gratitude

 

“Nggh,” a voiced groaned, barely audible above the drip drip of the liquid in the bags hanging somewhere over the patient's head.

Meryl cracked her eyes open before shutting them again, the sheer brightness causing her eyes to water. Also, the pounding sensation in her skull dulled her already dazed mind. Moaning softly under her breath, Meryl waited as patiently as she could for her splitting headache to subside.

She shifted, trying to get a little more comfortable, when a jolt of pain ripped through her small form. Meryl snapped her eyes open, her mind fully functional again thanks to the shock to her system. While her eyes adjusted, she began to feel anxious, her chest constricting. It was more than a little nerve-wracking to discover that just the slightest movement would cause such serious discomfort.

When her vision finally cleared, Meryl began to take in her surroundings. She recognized it as the same place where Knives had deposited Vash, the medical bay if she was not mistaken. Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the metallic ceiling and walls, as well as the various technological devices lining the walls. On the far side of the room were several counters with cabinets, presumably to hold first aid items.

Meryl swivelled her head to the right, nearly choking when she saw a tray with blood stained intruments and cloth. Perhaps the most disturbing objects were the needle and thread resting neatly on the cold, gleaming surface. She swallowed hard, a sneaking suspicion lurking near her conscious thoughts.

Lowering her eyes, Meryl made a small noise very similar to a screech when she saw the needle sticking in her arm and the tube attached to it leading up to a plastic bag of clear fluid. She gaped at it in shock. Meryl had heard about such equipment before, IV's she thought they were called. Usually they were only found in large cities where ships had crashed yet still existed, if only in ragged remnants of their former selves. Still, Meryl had never thought she would see one this close and certainly not stuck inside her own arm.

It did not make her feel the least bit better when she saw that the limb in question was wrapped in bandages, and Meryl felt queasy when she realized the rest of her body must look the same.

That's right. Knives tried to kill me...

Meryl shuddered, wincing as her wounds burned at that small movement. It occurred to her that there were several options open to her at that moment, the first being that she could be scared senseless and freak out about being the equivalent of an invalid. The second choice was that she could be red-hot mad at Knives for doing this to her, nevermind that she was all bandaged now and likely to recover. The third and most sensible decision would be to calm herself and think about everything that had happened to her calmly and rationally, weighing all possibilities.

Because of her very frazzled state, Meryl chose option number one.

“GYAAHHH!”

A rustling sound, followed by the mumbling of a familiar voice cut Meryl off, causing her to jerk her head to her left. She nearly bit her tongue when all she could see was silvery feathers lining arched wings that were currently slumping down towards the floor, held up only by straps dangling from the ceiling. Meryl's eyes widened as she determined the source of the rustling sound, and she hardly noticed the shoulder this “limb” was attached to. On the whole, Meryl thought that shrieking would be a less-than appropriate response, but even if she could have thought of one, Meryl was too stunned to say, do, or think of a reaction that would suit the situation. So, she settled for opening and closing her mouth multiple times, but no sound came out.

“Ugh, it's early, Rem. Don't wanna get up!” a voice grumbled from behind the feathery mass.

Meryl blinked. I know that voice... “Er...Vash? Is that you?”

“Eh? Meryl?” the voice asked, a little less sleep-fogged this time.

A head with blond mop of hair poked over the mess of feathers. It was Vash who, upon seeing her, wiggled upward in his bed a bit in order to see her better. Meryl could not help but stare at his predicament, especially because of the straps supporting his right arm. That had to be uncomfortable.

Vash grinned nervously, shifting the position of his incapacitated arm as much as possible so Meryl could see him better. A lump rose in her throat at the sight of Vash's various scars (since he was topless), the metal implants gleaming in the cold, artificial light. However, the rest of him was hidden by a pile of blankets covering his lower half.

“Erm, so, Meryl,” Vash began, awkwardness saturating every word, “how, um, are you?”

The question itself made Meryl want to laugh, cry, and shout all at the same time. How was she? What a ridiculous question! Surely Vash did not expect her to something like: “Oh, I'm doing quite well, thank you. I've only nearly been killed by your genocidal, elder twin for the fourth time, and now I'm basically an invalid. Thanks for asking.”

Oh yeah. That would work.

Vash seemed to catch the warning signs on her face somehow. “Nevermind!” he squeaked. “Forget I said that!”

Meryl glowered. “How am I, you ask? How am I?”

“Meryl-” Vash said weakly.

“No, listen!” she interrupted. “You really want to know how I am? I'll tell you.” Meryl paused, allowing an uncomfortable silence to stifle the room for a few moments before continuing. “Ok, let's recap: I was nearly killed, killed, by your brother Knives for the fourth time, the same brother you want to save.”

“Because I can save-!”

“I didn't say you couldn't Vash! I'm just saying it looks extremely unlikely right now. And me,” Meryl continued, “I'm basically an invalid right now. I don't even know why I'm still alive. Plus, I have no idea what's going on with you. I'm not sure what to think of any of this anymore.”

Vash hesitated. “I know this is-”

“Hard?” Meryl whispered. “I always knew things wouldn't be easy once you brought Knives back. And despite my misgivings, I tried to be understanding. But things got out of hand...”

An uncomfortable silence fell as both remembered Knives's first attempt on Meryl's life. He had tried to choke her to death and mercilessly rummaged through her thoughts, feelings, and memories. It was only because of Vash's timely intervention that Meryl had escaped death, but that incident had led to another, and then another, until finally, the situations had spun completely out of control with Vash's sudden illness. After that, nothing had gone right.

“I'm sorry, Meryl,” Vash said hoarsely. “I didn't mean-”

Meryl shook her head. “I know that, Vash. I know...” she said, biting her lip. “It's just that, I feel like...like I can't do anything. I know I promised myself that I would never give up, but what exactly am I holding onto?”

She sighed and leaned back, her gaze locked on the ceiling above.

 

 

Vash blinked, staring at the crestfallen features of one Meryl Stryfe, her face bruised and forlorn. He had never seen her act this way. Even when he had lost all hope and despaired he could ever be forgiven for pulling the trigger, Meryl had been there, strong in the face of it all. But now, she looked like she was losing her inner resolve, the same fiery spirit that had earned him many a whack upside the head. It was so strange to see her vulnerable like this.

Maybe...maybe all of this time, I've been leaning on her too much. She's been an anchor for me. I think...I think it's time I returned the favor...

“Meryl, listen,” Vash started, the words tripping over his tongue, causing him to furrow his brow slightly. He never had been good at romancing, unless you counted chasing after woman in an outrageous manner, but Vash had never been seriously considering finding a lifelong companion.

For one thing, he would out-live them by an indeterminate amount of time. Secondly, there had always been the ever-so-slight problem that anyone close to him often got dragged into the war between him and Knives, which made Vash avoid such relationships. One could have said he acted like a lecherous buffoon merely to drive women away, for their own good. But now, Vash really wished he had tried so he would be better able to comfort Meryl.

“I know that...I know this is really difficult for you to deal with. And I'm...I'm sorry that Knives has put you through all of this, and that I...” Vash swallowed hard, “...that I haven't been there for you like I should. I swore to protect you, but I haven't kept that promise, and I'm...I can't tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Vash looked down at his feet, feeling decidedly awkward. That had probably come out completely the wrong way, and he had more than likely made things worse instead of better because he just had rotten luck all the time. It occurred to him that he should probably say something else, something smart, something suave, but Vash really could not think of anything else to say. Except...

“I know that saying I'm sorry won't change anything, but I just want you to know that you're not useless. And I'm...I'm glad you're here with me.”

And that has to be the most over-used line ever, Vash groaned internally. It's so corny, even for me! D'oh!

He was surprised when a small chuckle reached his ears. Vash lifted his gaze away from his feet and looked back at Meryl, who was staring back at him, a wan smile tugging at her lips. It was a small smile, but it was still a smile. Vash found it strange, yet oddly fitting that such a little gesture lifted his spirits a notch, despite all the trials and tribulations. It was comforting, in a way, for the two of them to share in the emotions of the moment.

Meryl looked at him, her mouth still cuved upward slightly. “Vash, that has to be one of the corniest and over-used phrases in history. It's unoriginal, but I expected nothing less from you.”

Vash's countenance fell at her words. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I said those ridiculous things to her. I'm a moron, an idiot, a ignoramus, a stupid-head, an idiot, a fool, and a complete nincompoop. Did I mention I was an idiot?

“You can stop calling yourself and idiot now,” Meryl said, sounding rather amused by the whole thing.

Ack! How'd she know? “Er...what makes you think I was doing that?” Vash laughed nervously.

“I could tell by the way your brow furrowed in concentration. I didn't spend all this time with you and learn nothing, you know. And Vash...”

“What?” he asked, a quizzical look on his face.

“Thank you for the gesture. I feel...better. Not good but...better.”

Vash blinked, staring at Meryl from his bed, a bit surprised by her response.

“And I just want you to know, I don't blame you for any of it.”

Vash perked up at this. “R-Really? You're not mad?”

“Mad? Oh no, I'm not mad.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not at you anyway.”

That doesn't sound good...

“Um, Meryl, what do you mean you're not mad at me...?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” Meryl muttered. “So, Vash, would you mind filling me in on what's been happening?” she asked, a stiff smile in place.

Warning lights flashing! Warning sirens blaring!

Vash faltered before deciding. She deserved to know. “Yeah...I'll tell you.”

“Thank you, but Vash, don't leave anything out. I want to know everything.”

That made Vash flinch a bit since most of what had happened was not pleasant in the last. Still, Meryl had the right to know, and after all this, Vash knew that he should be the one to tell her. It was his fault she was here so it was his responsibility.

So, Vash began to explain what had occurred after he had woken up, how Knives had gone back for her and dressed her wounds. He skipped over the conversation he and Knives had had so he could tell Meryl what had happened to her first and then talk about himself. Everything was fine until Vash mentioned the part about Knives bandaging her. A dark cloud seemed to settle over Meryl's face, and Vash choked on the words he was about to say.

Warning lights flashing! Warning sirens blaring! Evacuate immediately!

“Um, Meryl? Is everything ok...?”

 

 

“YOU'RE SAYING HE DID WHAT?!”

Knives's cracked on artic blue eye open at the sound of a screech. Judging by the tone, pitch, and content, he knew it was not Vash he was hearing. No, it was the puny human female who seemed to have a set of lungs far too large for one so small. Knives rubbed the bridge of his nose, certain that a headache was coming on due to the human's violent outburst.

If she carries on like this, I swear I will cut her tongue out, he growled. I can't take this noise!

Vash, apparently, was trying to do some damage control. “It's not like that, Meryl!” he protested. “He was just-”

“I don't care! You trust him after everything that's happened? Are you crazy?”

Knives watched the spectacle from his chair, swivelling it around a little for a better view. Vash was the same as far as appearance, except for the extremely nervous look on his face. The human, on the other hand, seemed ready to explode. Knives actually would have found their argument to be somewhat amusing if the woman had not insisted upon being so loud.

“B-but! There wasn't any other way!” Vash stammered.

“Wasn't any other way? GAH! I can't believe you let Knives undress and bandage me!” Meryl huffed.

A corner of Knives's lips lifted into a smirk. He had suspected that his role in dressing the human's wounds was the topic of this conversation. On the other hand, it irked him that the woman was grousing about it since it had taken every last shred of self-control he possessed to not rip her throat out in the midst of mending her torn body.

Not that he expected gratitude from such an inferior specimen. Besides, Knives had only bothered with aiding the pathetic vermin because Vash had insisted that she was necessary to curing his ailment. It pissed Knives off to no end, but he had to admit that his younger twin had a point, since Knives himself could not get close to or come in physical contact with Vash.

However, Knives thought darkly, that does not mean that I have to cater to this spider's every whim. I refuse to be subordinate to a piece of human trash!

Knives let both of his eyes slide open and narrowed them at the flustered human. “Your kind certainly knows how to express gratitude,” he remarked airily.

A deathly silence fell across the medical bay both Vash and the human stopped talking immediately to stare at Knives, who reclined in his chair, his face an inscrutable mask. Vash seemed even more edgy than he had before, his gaze shifting rapidly back and forth between Knives and the human, obviously expecting some sort of conflict between the two. The woman, however, was glaring at Knives, an impudent scowl taunting him. Knives was tempted to put her in her place, but Vash's presence prevented any physical action.

“What? Cat caught your tongue?” he sneered.

She flushed. “I can't believe Vash let you bandage my wounds! And you...undressed me, too!”

Knives raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can assure you that I gained no pleasure from helping a worthless being like yourself.”

“Now, Knives,” Vash placated uneasily, his face turning bright red, “I want you to at least try to be civil with each other.”

The human looked at Vash incredulously. “How are we supposed to do that, pray tell? It's not like we've had a good track record so far of being `civil' to each other,” she pointed out wryly.

Knives sniffed. “I will be civil,” he spat distastefully, “if this thing, thid human, keeps its less-than intelligent comments to itself.”

“Just who are you calling an `it'?” she demanded, her face becoming more red with each passing second.

“Nothing of importance,” Knives remarked, directing his statement pointedly at her.

The human was trembling with rage now. “If I could get up from this spot, I'd give you what for, you pompous, egotistical Plant with a superiority complex!”

Knives narrowed his eyes once again. “Thank you for that immature outburst. By the way, I possess a `superiority complex,' as you called it, because I am superior.”

Vash cut off the woman's angry reply. “Knives, this really isn't the time to get into that particular subject.”

Knives shrugged. “I wasn't the one who brought it up, wouldn't you agree?”

Vash sighed. “That's not the point, Knives. I just...I just would prefer it if we didn't talk about this.”

`And why is that, brother? Are you afraid that you will be forced to accept the truth about these human vermin?'

`NO. I just don't want to getting into that discussion again. We've been over it so many times, and we've never settled it. Can't we just leave it alone for a while longer?' Vash asked tiredly.

Knives waved a hand dismissively. “Very well, then.” `But you can't avoid that discussion forever, brother,' Knives added meaningfully.

`I know that. I know...'

“In any case,” Knives continued, “I am still waiting for gratitude from you.”

The human pursed her lips. “Why should I thank you for anything?”

“Because your miserable life has been spared,” Knives hissed, “and that is something no other human can boast.”

“Hmph. Fine. Thank you.”

That `thank you' was too impudent for Knives's tastes, but he said nothing. Until...

“Yes, thank you for saving me from wounds Your Lordship so graciously inflicted upon me. I can't tell you how grateful I am for that,” the woman said sarcastically.

Knives whirled on her, his eyes flashing dangerously. “How dare you,” he raged. “How dare you speak to me, your superior, in that manner!”

“Knives...” Vash warned, his voice low and serious.

Fear flickered briefly across her eyes, almost impossible to distinguish as he leaned in close, his nose inches away from her own. The fear was there and gone a split second later, but Knives saw it. He grinned maliciously.

“You know that I could rip these bandages right off of you and tear the IV's from your limbs,” he said, his voice low and smooth. Knives could feel Vash's anger, yet he persisted. “However, I choose not to do that.”

She sucked in her breath. “Why?”

Knives straightened his tall form, looking down at the puny figure before him. “Because, as much as it disgusts me to admit it, I cannot cure Vash on my own. His condition is such that I cannot get within a certain radius of him or touch him. You,” Knives said disdainfully, “are the only one who can.”

“Me?” she whispered.

“Yes. And you will help me,” Knives stated forcefully, “whether you want to or not.”

The human jerked her head up, a touch of the old impertinence present on her face once more. “I will help you,” she told him calmly (although Knives could tell she would like nothing better than to bite his head off), “but not because you demand it.” She glanced at Vash. “I'll do it because I care about your brother.”

Knives was tempted to discipline her for such arrogance in thinkingthat she had a choice in the matter. However, he merely nodded stiffly, his mouth a tight, thin line.

“Very well. We will begin as soon as you are able to move from that bed.”

 

 

Well, an agreement has been reached.

Knives: -grumbles-

Oh hush. Knives is a bit grouchy when he doesn't get his way.

Knives: I am not.

Right, sure. What about that time when you threw a temper tantrum when I refused to let you kill Meryl.

Knives: . . .

Hemm, looks like Knives needs someone to talk to. Kuroneko-zilla should be able to cheer him up.

Knives: Oh, hell no!

-shoves Knives in the same room with Kuroneko-zilla and ignores shouts of pain coming from behind the door- Well, while Knives is getting some therapy, REVIEW please. XD