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:Disclaimer:. I don't own Trigun or Cowboy Bebop.
Author: AnonymousTrigunOtaku
Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: This is an angsty Vash/Meryl songfic, the first in two. The song is "No Reply" from Cowboy Bebop, and this songfic is the first of two songfics. The second is going to be Vash/Milly and use the song "Rain," also from Cowboy Bebop. This is the sequel and companion songfic to "No Reply," set to "Rain." This one is a kind of angst-romance songfic.
Warnings: character death, angst, drinking/alcoholism, manga influences, fluff, implications/themes, mild language warning for one line in the song "Rain."
Chapters: 2, chapter 1 is set to "No
Reply" from Cowboy Bebop The Movie, and chapter 2 is set to
"Rain" from the Cowboy Bebop anime.
Author's Note: I space paragraphs using the space bar since the paragraph insert feature doesn't work with my HTML program. So there may be slight variation in where the paragraph begins (normally my indent is a 24 space double indent). That's a nitpick, but it annoys me, and I hope it doesn't annoy you.
I don't feel a thing
and I stopped remembering
The
days are just like moments turned to hours
Vash walks into the bar in December City, taking a second to wipe encrusted tears and sand from his sunglasses. Two years before, the day after Meryl had died, he had resigned from his job, although taking the blue coat with him because it held the memories of both a best friend and the second love of his life. The color, blue with black lining, reminded him of Wolfwood, while Meryl herself had made the coat for him.
Since that day, he had never laughed, never smiled aside from an occasional sarcastic smirk. The glasses that hid his eyes had become a permanent feature, and his personality had changed to match the outside changes-he was locked into the serious side of himself. Whereas he would in the past intervene in almost any situation where someone's life was at risk, he had not done that in the last years, only caring if he were directly involved.
His
loyalty to what Rem had taught him was also fast slipping away. While he had not
killed directly in the last two years, he had shot a bounty hunter in a skirmish
back in Inepril, and the man had later died from an infection from the wounds.
Worse, Vash did not even care that it had happened-and had thought that the man
deserved it. "What have I become? Have I become. . .like Knives. . .is
this how he felt. . .no, don't think about that."
The woman standing by the bar catches his attention, as does the small boy next to her. "That looks like. . .no, she was back in Wells City."
"Mr. Vash? Is it really you?"
"Milly? What are you doing in a place like this?"
"I could say the same of you! Where were you, leaving me alone with that mean old brother of yours until I left? Leaving me alone to give birth, to-"
The words break the emotional barriers he has set up in a second. "Milly. I. . .I'm sorry. . .I just wanted to hide for a while."
"I did too. . .still do. Why do you think I'm here?"
"Who's that, Mommy?" The boy looks up from the floor, where his gaze had been directed the last few minutes.
"That's your father's friend Mr. Vash. A friend is a person someone likes a lot."
The boy nods seriously. "Hi. My name's Nicky."
"He looks like his father. Like Wolfwood."
"Yeah. . .he's the only reason I couldn't completely run away." Milly sighs as she reaches for the glass next to her. "And he even makes me feel guilty about doing this, because I can't keep up with him once I'm too far gone. If he ever got hurt. . ."
"He seems really intelligent for his age. Also, like he's about three or four rather than two," Vash mumbles, as he brushes a sand grain from his coat.
"I've
noticed that too. You know. . .the more I think about it, Nicholas wasn't like
you or Knives. . .but he wasn't like me or Meryl either. . ."
Mother used to say
if you want, you'll find a way
Bet
mother never danced through fire shower
"You aren't drinking much."
"I rarely do, anymore." Milly nods to her son, sitting in the booth beside her. "He goes everywhere with me, and I don't want to set a bad example for him. Although I've slipped a few times. . .usually on Nicholas's birthday. . .when I start thinking about everything."
"Same for me. . .normally I keep it to under four, but today is Meryl's birthday. She would have been. . .twenty-nine today."
"Mr. Priest. . .I mean, Nicholas would have been twenty-seven last week." Milly sighs, a tear running from one eye. "I think. . .I think he would have wanted me to go on though. Some days it's really hard though. . .like today, it's all dreary and rainy, like a storm or something, but you know how rarely we have storms here."
"Yeah. . .maybe this is a sign the climate's changing or something though. Although I've never heard of a planet's climate changing for good. It's always for the worse."
"You've changed."
"You
have too."
"Mama says you were Papa's friend." Nicky appears to be staring at a bug crawling across the table, not wanting to meet either Milly's or Vash's eyes.
"I was."
"Like Mama and Miss Meryl were?"
"Kind of."
"Mama says I look like him."
Vash
feels the tears welling in his eyes. "You do. Very much." The next few
hours are spent in rather meaningless chatter discussing everything from the new
words Milly taught Nicky last week, to the bug on the table, ironically enough a
spider.
"Why are you in December anyway?" Vash reaches for the glass of water he is now sipping. Although he wants to order something much harder than that, Nicky is still sitting in the booth next to him and Milly, and despite Vash's new uncaring, cynical attitude, there is still a pang of conscience about drinking in front of a small child.
"I live here now. I work for the Bernardelli as a local claims inspector-for some reason Rich seemed to understand when I came back, and he even allows me to let Nicky come along with me. I'm putting him in preschool next year, but for now. . .anyway, I go to the orphanage once a week with donations."
"That's kind of why I came. I. . .I once told Wolfwood. . .that I'd give a million double dollars if. . .if he renounced killing. At the time he laughed it off, but. . .I've been thinking about it ever since he died."
"Where did you ever get a million double-"
"Don't ask!"
Milly stares at the harsh glare for a second, realizing that was the leftover amount from Meryl's surviving spouse pay and her life policy. "It's OK if you don't want to talk about it," she whispers, placing her hand over his.
"That's
right, Milly, I don't. Just leave me alone."
Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Is it right or is it wrong
and
is it here that I belong
"What have I become? Rem. . .Meryl. . ." Vash sits on the bench in the middle of town, empty pint bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, the events of the last hours running through his mind. That question had made him lose every bit of patience he had ever had with Milly, although knowing her, it had no ulterior motive, was nothing but an innocent question.
Nevertheless, he had roughly thrown her aside, only the second time he had physically attacked someone virtually unprovoked.
The first time had been aboard the ship, shortly after he had found out about the experiments that had killed the first of his kind, when Rem attempted to stop him from cutting his wrists. He felt as if he wanted to cry once more remembering that incident-in his rage he had dragged the knife across her arms and once across her leg, before he had came to, before she had somehow calmed him.
Over the next weeks, he had come to understand that harming himself or others was never a solution. . .and had held that belief for more than 135 years, until a few months before this time. His brother's philosophy had been gaining on him more than he cared to admit: Wolfwood had died because of Legato's devotion to Knives. "Devotion. . .a weakness of humans." Meryl had died because of both her mortal body and because the technology wasn't advanced enough to detect her condition until it was too late. "A butterfly among spiders. . .and she died. 'Spiders' NO! STOP IT! What am I thinking? I. Am. Not. Knives. I. Do. Not. Think. Like. That. Or do I. . . someone tell me. . .Rem. . .if only. . .if only you were with me."
I don't hear a sound
Silent faces in the ground
The
quiet screams, but I refuse to listen
Milly walks through the cemetery at the church in December City, oblivious to the falling rain or setting suns. The nuns inside had agreed to watch over her son for the day, realizing the look on her face and noting the baskets of roses she carried, obviously to lay at the grave of a lost loved one.
"Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Born settlement year 110, died settlement year 135. Beloved by all who loved you. Rest in peace, my love. May no more ever have to live by the gun and hence die by it." Milly herself had chosen that inscription, and now, as she read over it, she could barely hold back the tears. She knew of persons who had chosen of their own freewill to make a life of killing others-B.D.N., Knives-yet they were alive and well, while Wolfwood had died-and most cruelly, when he had finally chosen not to take the life of his opponent.
She realizes that she is lying on the ground, slowly picking herself up and leaning one basket of roses against the cross gravestone, about to say something else when she hears a loud cough, then a sniffle. Milly walks a few tombstones over to see Vash sitting next to the largest tombstone in the cemetery, arms wrapped around it as if he is embracing the woman it represents.
"Meryl Stryfe. Born settlement year 108, died settlement year 136. You were a light in my darkest hours. My love for you will live as long as I live."
She watches the blonde move his glasses down on his nose, noticing for a second the ice-cold glare, remembering seeing it only on one other occasion-when a Gung Ho Gun named Monev the Gale had attacked.
Milly gingerly steps toward Vash, expecting an injury worse than the black eye and bruised side she incurred earlier in the bar. "I. . .I miss her too."
"You can't understand it! It's like someone ripped half of myself away, worse than that! You'll never understand this and. . .oh. . .Milly. . ." With that, the glare of the Diablo appears to melt from his face, replaced with the childlike, vulnerable aqua eyes she remembered. "Tell me! What could I have done. . .what could we have done. . .there's always a way. . .why does everyone I love have to die. . ."
"There's nothing you could do. None of this is your fault, Vash. Nicholas chose to confront Chapel on his own-"
"But I. . .I shouldn't, shouldn't have let him. . .if only I'd been there. . .or if only he had killed Chapel rather than followed my idealism and. . .and Meryl. . .I should have known-"
Milly looks into Vash's eyes. "Come back to my place. There's some things I need to tell you. First though I want you to get some rest and sober up, and I need to take Nicky home as well. . .so if you want to, come. How long has it been since you've slept anyway?"
"Four days. I don't sleep much anymore. I have these nightmares, and even the alcohol doesn't stop that-"
"I have nightmares too. Have ever since Nicholas died. . .it's not so much lately, but a few days ago. . .it was horrible. I dreamed that Legato was forcing me to pull the trigger on Chapel's weapon. . .and that I was the one who killed him. . ."
"I
dreamed that. . .that Meryl was calling for me, begging me to help her as she
died, and there was nothing I could do. . ."
If there is a hell
I'm sure this is how it smells
Wish this were a dream, but no, it isn't
They walk into Milly's apartment, where Milly leaves to put her son to bed, then returns to the main room some time later.
"I'm sleepy."
"With all you drank, no wonder. There's not much furniture here, I couldn't afford much, but there is a place to sleep, and if you get sick, the bathroom is right there." Milly gestures toward the room at the beginning of the hall, then to the room after it.
"Thanks." Vash places a hand on the doorknob of the sleeping room after a few dizzy, wobbly steps toward it, then feels the all too familiar quavery, nauseated sensation come over him. Soon after, he finds himself clinging to the commode in the aforementioned bathroom, feeling as if his stomach is attempting to wrench itself from his body. "Please. . .someone make it stop. . .it hurts. . ."
In the next few minutes, he feels a hand gently running across his back. "You'll be better soon. . .of course you know that, but that's what I always told my big big brother when he got sick. . .here's some water, and this will settle your stomach enough that you can rest."
"Milly. How. . .why. . .do you know all of this-"
"Well, I've had this happen a few times myself. And during those two years when you were gone, sometimes Nicholas would come back from what he called a business meeting in terrible shape."
"I always thought. . .he could hold it better than you or me."
"He
could. . .that's why I wondered whatever could have driven him to drink enough
to do that. Then I finally found out. . .two years ago. I'll tell you tomorrow
though."
Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Am I right or am I wrong
and
is it here that I belong
Vash awakens the next morning with a fierce headache and somewhat lessened nausea, hearing cups clink in the next room. The sound is familiar, reminding him of Meryl's habit of awakening before him and cooking breakfast for everyone. He slumps over at the table, holding a hand to his head, hair down from its traditional spikes, still dressed in his nightclothes. ". . .Milly. Thanks for everything."
"No problem. Anyway, I want to tell you everything now. . .here, have some tea. It's really good, my favorite." She places the steaming cup and its saucer in front of him, smiling back. "It's good to see you smile again."
"You too."
"What you said last night. . .about Nicholas. . .it wasn't your fault that he died."
"That's not true. If I'd been there with him-"
"If you had, Caine would have shot all of us. It was a setup. Knives told me that it was. . .and he was hoping to leave only you alive, and injured badly enough that you'd see his viewpoint and join his cause."
"It. . .it was-"
"Nicholas didn't intend on it being a setup per se. After he killed Grey, Leonof, and Zazie, Legato considered him a potential traitor to the Gung Ho Guns and expendable. Thing was, he didn't know that and thought he was still in. . .and Legato had changed the orders from your being brought back to Knives to your being killed. When Nicholas refused to kill you and you two took Chapel and Caine on together instead, that snapped something in both Knives and Legato. Knives was angry because Legato had ordered your death, Legato was angry at Nicholas for betraying the Gung Ho Guns. Knives. . .wanted to satisfy his bloodlust but didn't want to kill Legato just yet-so they somehow settled on the death that they figured would draw you to them. That of your closest friend. "
"So. . ."
"There was little you could have done. If you'd stayed and fought with Nicholas, Caine would have killed at least Meryl and I, and probably Nicholas would have died anyway. If you'd stayed to fight Chapel and sent him after Caine, that might have worked out better, but he was so stubborn that he wouldn't have done that, and you could have been killed."
Vash sits there, sipping the tea, attempting to take in the information. "So you. . . you don't blame me for Wolfwood-"
"No, I don't. Not in the slightest."
"Do you blame me for Meryl?"
"No. That was all my fault-I should have recognized her symptoms. I should have taken her to Sky City when she first started having that pain a few days ago. I should have-"
"No. That wasn't your fault either, Vash. Everyone missed a lot of things they shouldn't have missed. If anything, it was my fault-I should have called the ambulance when she was in the kitchen cooking breakfast."
"It wasn't your fault Milly." Vash appears to think for a few minutes, then sighs deeply. "I want to go on, but I can't. . .Meryl was the only woman aside from Rem that I really loved, that I wasn't merely lusting after and wanting something physical from to satisfy my personal needs, or on the other hand, just caring about and wanting to protect."
Milly sips at her tea. "I want to go on as well. . .Nicky needs a father that is alive, that can be there for him. . .but I can't find anyone. Nicholas was the only man I ever felt attracted to, more than that the only man I ever loved for so long. . .and he was different. Not like most of the men from my hometown or here in December."
"Yeah. . .I think I'm going back to July or Augusta and help with the rebuilding projects. That is something I'm responsible for, and now. . .now I"m myself again. I feel like I was in this coldhearted prison for the last two years. . .thanks, Milly. You're so selfless and. . .it just awakened me again I guess."
"I have to go to work in a few hours too. You can stay here as long as you like."
The
words remind him of both Rem and Meryl. "I may do that."
Milly blinks at the reply, noticing the slight shy blush on Vash's face. "Last night. . .did you have any nightmares?"
"Nah. . .strange that you mention that. I had this wonderful dream. An angel was lying next to me, telling me to relax, snuggling against me. She was so beautiful, so pure, so caring that I didn't even think of doing anything like I would have thought with Meryl doing that, with anyone else. I just fell asleep. . .and I slept very well."
"Strange that you mention it. I started having my nightmare again, but the same thing happened to me except. . .except mine was allowing me to lie my head on his chest, to hear his heartbeat and breathing, so strong yet so gentle. . .and he was telling me that it wasn't my fault that Nicholas or Meryl died. . ."
"Maybe. . .ah, never mind."
Milly giggles at that. "Yeah, dreams are funny things aren't they. Well, I have to get ready for work now." She stands, stopping by his side for a moment, gently resting her hand on his hand. "Now you don't get in any trouble or anything."
"You
don't either. . .see you."
An hour later, left alone in the apartment with Milly and Nicky gone, Vash picks up the phone, dialing a number that he never thought he would dial, one he'd found scribbled on a note in the priest's belongings. "You've reached Puddings Of The World."
"Yeah, I have a kind of special request. . ."
"What would that be?"
"Can you deliver an entire truckload of your finest offerings to the Bernardelli Insurance Society's main office?"
"That will be $$700 double dollars."
"Wow. . .I mean, fine."
"Who is it for?"
"Milly
Thompson-Wolfwood. Tell her it's to one angel from another."
Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Why do I feel so alone
For
some reason I think of home
~fin~
One closing note: I'm SO SORRY for ending on the extremely sappy, fluffy note! It really doesn't match the angst in the rest of the songfic or the end of the song, nevertheless I thought it was cute and somewhat in-character.