Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ To Stand Still ❯ Chapter 1

 

It was Wednesday evening, and as was customary on Wednesday evenings, Meryl had dinner at Milly's house.

 

It was also customary for the women to cook together, and even further, for Milly's children to do their best to get in the way. Although Meryl had been the youngest in her family, and therefore not that experienced with childcare, she had developed about a dozen strategies for calming the children and restoring some semblance of order in the kitchen.

 

On this particular Wednesday evening, Meryl's dozenth strategy had failed miserably. A real SNAFU, if there ever was one. In a moment of weakness, she had given in to one child's endless tugging and whining by giving him a cookie in the hopes that it would shut the little runt up.

 

Quiet did return for a moment, until Meryl found herself on the business end of a wooden spoon, wielded by one Milly Thompson. Much to her surprise, Milly continued by offering Meryl a stern lecture on why she shouldn't allow the children to have sweets before dinner. And then, just as quickly as she appeared, Drill Sergeant Milly was gone.

 

After the moment had passed, an amusing thought entered Meryl's mind, and she couldn't help but let out a giggle. This prompted an inquiry from her former partner.

 

“Oh come on,” she said through more giggles, “since when are you one to hold back on sweets?”

 

“I have a family now, Meryl. I couldn't stay the same forever.” Milly stated this with a simple air, arranging place settings while skillfully dodging her children, whose game of Cops and Robbers had relocated to around the dinner table.

 

Meryl suddenly felt that she did not belong in this kitchen. She felt out of place and awkward. The room was silent, as the children had inexplicably settled down, and all she could hear was the steady ticking of the clock above the stove. There had been moments like this before, but always far too fleeting for her to identify their root and nature. Now she knew; Milly, with all her experience and maturity, had passed her by.

 

Meryl spent supper in a daze. Complaining of a headache, she refused dessert and left a bit more abruptly than she cared to admit.

 

She arrived home to a dark apartment. Easing into her living room chair, her gaze turned to the night sky. She didn't know why, but this activity always relaxed her when she was upset. Pieces of conversation from the couple next door drifted in and out as she tried, with difficulty, to remember the constellations.

 

Out of nowhere, a haughty female voice laughed in her mind, If you keep risking your life out there, I'm afraid there is no way you will ever achieve womanly happiness.

 

Meryl groaned. She was 35, and she was alone. Only a few decades earlier, a woman such as herself would have been deemed a spinster. Society was no longer that cruel to label a woman in such a way, but Meryl knew what she was just the same.

 

She slumped back into the chair, hand reaching to the side to open the drawer of the end table. It was empty, aside from a single photograph of a familiar blonde gunman. She had taken the picture one morning when he was too preoccupied with his coffee and newspaper to notice. She was quite fond of it because his hair was damp and fell around his face, giving him an angelic appearance. It was the only picture she had of him, and she had never even told Milly about it.

 

Mind wandering, Meryl stared at the photograph. It was so long ago now. Sometimes when the memories seemed especially distant, she wondered to herself if it had actually ever happened. Perhaps it had all been a fabrication of her own mind, indulging secret desires for adventure and romance in an attempt to distract herself from her own uneventful existence.

 

Meryl sighed. No, it certainly had happened. Her imagination wasn't that good.

 

She remembered how difficult it had been to leave the little shack and return to December after their assignment was terminated. She had been certain he would come back. Milly had been sure of it, and she did have a knack for knowing those things, after all. But for whatever reason, he never came. So they stopped waiting.

 

Or at least Meryl thought she had stopped waiting. She had returned to her old apartment and resumed her desk job at Bernardelli. Milly eventually got married and began a family, but for Meryl, things never seemed to change.

 

Meryl shifted in her chair, and returned the photograph to its rightful place in the end table. The drawer was shut with some amount of bitterness, as if the piece had offended her in some way. Turning, she looked out at the stars again.

 

All these years she had been standing still. But wasn't that what they taught you as a child? If you were ever lost, you were to stay where you were and someone would find you.

 

They never said what to do if no one was looking.

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