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Meryl shouldn’t have been surprised that even out in the middle of this podunk town she’d been assigned to, trouble would follow Vash the Stampede. It was just two in the afternoon, the sun scorching high above, and she had decided to pick up some groceries while she was in between clients.
Wanting to make it a quick trip, she’d taken a shortcut through a sidestreet and that’s when she heard raised voices coming from directly where she was headed. She slowed and crept closer, hugging the back wall of the alley as she approached. A loud male voice was shouting expletives and a murmuring crowd was spread out on the fringes of the town square.
Awfully brazen to make a scene right in the middle of town , Meryl frowned as she finally caught sight of the situation.
A scraggly looking man with unnaturally bulging arms and eyes was at the center of the commotion. From the look of the red veins in his eyes and face and his intense aggression, he was clearly drugged out of his senses.
Meryl shifted closer so she could see the target of his rage. The man was aiming a gun directly at none other than Vash, who was crouched low several paces away with his hands held up in surrender and an apologetic look on his face. Honestly Meryl wouldn’t have thought much of it if it hadn’t been for the uncharacteristically nervous gleam in Vash’s eyes as he shifted his weight. She suddenly realized that huddled around and behind him was a group of the local children, frightened expressions plastered on their faces.
“I just wanna know,” the man screamed, finger tightening on the trigger, “which of you little shits kicked that ball, huh?!”
Meryl’s eyes darted over to a lone ball on the ground behind the man. A red scuff on the man’s face must have been the cause of his sudden outburst.
“They’re just kids, y’know?” Vash laughed disarmingly. “Besides, if you want someone to be angry with, you can blame me.”
“I know it was them!” the man spit. His aim drifted to each of the childrens’ faces in turn, each one squirming to hide farther behind Vash as it paused on them. “It’s not the first time!”
The man took a shaky inhale and the veins in his neck bulged even more. “But it will be the last time.”
One of the boys, the oldest, peeked out from Vash’s coat with a defiant look on his face. The boy slowly extended his middle finger at the man and stuck out his tongue in an ugly grimace.
“You little–!” the man’s grip on the gun tightened.
“Wow, hey now, where’d you learn that,” Vash forced an awkward chuckle and tried to scoot the boy back out of view. “Ha ha, this is all just a misunderstanding–”
If the strung out man’s eyes grew any wider, Meryl thought they’d pop out of his head. She sighed and shoved her way out of the crowd.
“I’ve seen about enough!” Her voice rang out and everyone fell silent as she strode slowly but steadily forward.
The man’s eyes darted over to her as she trained her derringer on him. Now faced with two targets, he shifted his attention from her, to Vash and the kids, then back to her.
“This ain’t your business!” He briefly waved his gun at her then pinned his prey under his line of sight again. “Butt out, you nosy bitch!”
Meryl glanced at the kids. Vash was still tugging at the older one’s arm, but the boy adamantly refused to hide. The younger ones were sniffling and fidgeting around so much that Vash was obviously struggling to defuse the situation in a way that didn’t lead to gunfire. While Meryl knew he’d be fine, if the kids scattered they’d be too easily caught in any crossfire. And if he used his full powers, well… they’d be chased out of town faster than the drugged gunman. She knew he could handle the situation even if the worst happened but…call it selfish but she didn’t want to see Vash hurt, either.
“Why don’t you put that down and we can all talk like adults,” Meryl said. The man’s hand had a tremor in it now. He was just a twitch away from firing. She couldn’t afford to antagonize him.
The man fell silent except for his heavy breathing. Meryl kept her pulse calm and measured, but the man’s sudden stillness unnerved her more than his ranting. His gaze shot over to her, then away again.
“No,” his voice was a low growl, “I think I’m done talking.”
One heartbeat. Meryl fired a split second after he did. Vash dove over the kids, the older boy falling to the ground with a yelp as Vash shielded him.
Two heartbeats. The assailant grunted from the new bullet wound in his shoulder, but whatever was poisoning his common sense must also have been blocking the pain. He staggered briefly, then raised his gun to fire again.
Three heartbeats. Meryl dashed forward and fired again, hitting her mark a second time. She gritted her teeth in frustration when the man still refused to fall. Vash was scrambling to keep the kids from blindly dashing out in the man’s line of sight.
Discarding her gun, Meryl drew another derringer from her holster and fired a third time without pause. Vash may have felt comfortable enough to go unarmed about the town, but Meryl had learned from travelling with him to never let herself be caught without teeth or claws.
The man finally stumbled to the ground, blood dripping down his arms and clothes as his gun clattered beside him. Meryl took a firm stance and leveled her last shot at his head.
“Stay down.” Her eyes gleamed darkly, warning him of the gravity of her threat.
His breathing was ragged but he never met her eyes, his focus staying on the fleeing kids. Suddenly a high pitched wail sounded from behind her, and Meryl turned to see a young girl break away from Vash and run across the square.
“Stop–!” Vash lunged after her, panic in his eyes.
With adrenaline laced reflexes, the man on the ground snatched his gun and aimed. The girl was all too easy a target, which is precisely why Meryl noticed the shift in his trajectory, just a few degrees left of true.
He isn’t aiming at her, he’s aiming at Vash!
Vash would be fine, she knew this. He’d survived more attempts on his life than Meryl could likely ever know. Even were there ten of this man, he’d still be nothing more than a mild inconvenience to Vash.
But still–!
Vash was wide open, caring nothing for his safety. He’d been shot so many times before, one more bullet would scarcely even faze him. He’d be laughing it off and giving reassurances to everyone the next day.
And that’s exactly why she couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand that he gave and gave, piece by piece, every day eroding him just a little more, asking him to give a little more. And he would give himself every time. Pain layered on top of pain, each wound sealing the hurt deeper inside, carving itself into the landscape of his body and heart. But she could see it, the bleeding hole that never closed no matter how much sacrifice or how many smiles Vash tried to bury it with.
Not one scar more.
Meryl snarled and darted in front of the man’s line of sight, simultaneously spinning on her heel to take her last shot. They fired in tandem. The gun fell from the man’s butchered hand and this time he did cry out.
So did Meryl. A sharp burst of pain bloomed in her thigh like a fire brand, and she looked down to see blood trailing down her leggings. She breathed hard. Before her trembling legs gave out, a strong hand gripped her shoulder.
“Meryl!” Vash’s voice was strained in her ear.
“I’m ok–” she winced, trying to keep herself steady.
Before she could protest, Vash had bent down and scooped her up, cradling her close to his chest.
“You shouldn’t have–!” Emotions and words flashed through his expression more rapid-fire than he could give voice to. He stared down at her, eyes fraught with a storm of panic, anger, and fear. His gaze searched her own, measuring, processing, sentiments unspoken between them, before he promptly carried her off to the infirmary.
“You’re lucky, miss,” the doctor said after he’d cleaned and dressed Meryl’s wound.
Fortunately it was a clean shot that wouldn’t permanently impact her ability to walk or move. But it would leave a noticeable scar. The doctor explained when to change the bandages and not to elevate her leg, droning on instructions. Meryl sat on the edge of the infirmary cot, nodding and listening as best she could, but the copious dosage of painkillers she’d been given was making her feel lightheaded.
Vash sat in the corner of the room, legs pulled up in his seat and hugged to his chest, a clouded look in his eyes. Meryl couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting over to him. Even now, her worry was more for him than for herself. The doctor seemed to catch on, and excused himself from the room, leaving the two of them to themselves.
Meryl gave a long sigh, lips curling into a smile. “You look like you were the one who was shot, brooding like you are over there.”
“I should have been,” Vash grumbled, brows furrowing as he refused to look at her. “You didn’t need to jump in like that.”
“Now you sound like that gunman.” Meryl kept her tone light and teasing, despite Vash’s pushback. She knew he wasn’t used to being on the sacrificial sidelines like this, and he looked deeply uncomfortable. His fingers fidgeted with one another, his toes tapped against the seat, and his eyes darted a quick glance at her before blinking away.
Meryl gently patted the cot beside her, beckoning him closer. He doggedly avoided her gaze and she chuckled to herself. Sitting there pouting like that, it was hard to take him seriously.
“Vash, I’ll be fine, you know,” she ventured, trying to coax out the cause of his frustration.
“But you didn’t need to do that!” He finally let his legs drop to the floor and pinned his gaze on her. His eyes swam with emotion and his face looked heated. “Even if he shot me, I would–”
“I know,” Meryl said calmly. “You would have been fine, too.”
That gave Vash pause. He searched her gaze in confusion, looking for some trace of accusation or resentment that simply wasn’t there.
Meryl patted the spot next to her again.
Vash huffed in defeat and begrudgingly left his corner, but to Meryl’s surprise, rather than plop down next to her, he sank down on his knees in front of her. Their height difference was so extreme that she was still barely on eye level with him, even when she was seated and he was kneeling.
“Then, why…?” he murmured, eyes watery. “You of all people know I heal fast. You’ve already seen my scars, one bullet is nothing I need protection from.”
Meryl carefully cupped his face between her palms and stroked her thumbs along his cheekbones. “Your body might scar and heal fast, but what about you ?”
She reached down and placed a hand firmly over his heart. “I know you want to be the one to take the pain for people, but I think you deserve to be spared from hurt just as much.” Affection overflowed her eyes and she smiled. “You deserve someone to take a stand for you too. I know it’s not much, but if this one scar on my body is one less on yours, then I’d willingly choose to take it every time.”
She gave a breathless laugh when she saw the stream of tears down Vash’s face that matched her own. “Maybe we’re not so different.”
Vash exhaled, almost unsure what to make of her confession. He gave an incredulous laugh and allowed a smile to slip onto his face. Wrapping his arms gently around her good leg, he buried his face in her lap. Meryl could feel his tears soaking through her skirt. She ran her fingers through his hair
“Still,” Vash’s voice was muffled, “you’re not allowed to protect me like that anymore. My heart can’t take it.”
Meryl snickered and teasingly tugged on his ear. “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to decide that for me. I’d make a rebuttal about you staying out of trouble, but I know by now how impossible that is.”
He sighed, breath warm against her, and she could feel his lips lift into an embarrassed grin. “I guess I’ll just have to work even harder to protect you, then.”
“Hmm,” Meryl hummed. She lightly scratched at the nape of his neck. “How about we just protect each other, since you can’t stop me and I can’t stop you?”
Vash made a bratty grumble and nuzzled closer to her. The painkillers must really have kicked in, because Meryl felt more lightheaded than ever with this six-and-a-half foot troublemaker lounging on her like a lapdog.
Vash turned his head slightly so she could see the mischievous gleam in his eye. “The bad guys are really in trouble with Derringer Meryl on the case.”
She blushed crimson and spluttered. “Hey, that was a long time ago and Milly came up with that!”
“What should we call you then? Derringer Darling?” Vash flashed a toothy grin and Meryl shoved his face away. He cackled as he scooted away. “Ow! Actually Meryl the Merciless is more fitting!”
He continued to tease her until Meryl groaned in pain from the exertion wearing her painkillers off. In a second Vash was back to blubbering over her, and they soon called the doctor back in.
Meryl stared at her bare legs in front of the mirror. She’d gotten hairline scars in her line of work before; thin, small reminders of the harsh planet she’d travelled across and the unusual people she’d met. But adorning the center of her left thigh was her first real reminder that she’d put her life on the line for something greater.
Vash came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing feather light kisses down her cheek and neck. He slowly turned her to face him and dragged his lips down her body, fingers stroking light caresses that left goosebumps on her heated skin.
Once again he knelt in front of her and held her leg in his large, warm hands like it was the most breathtaking thing in the world.
Meryl felt a blush come over her as Vash stared at the little sunken crater in her skin.
“It’s cute!” he announced, grinning up at her then back down at her scar.
Meryl huffed and nearly rolled her eyes. “Cute, huh?”
Vash beamed, undeterred by her self doubt. He lightly traced the wound’s shape, fingers circling the rough edges and smoothing across the puckered skin at the center. His loving, single-minded attention sent a shiver up Meryl’s spine. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across the mark.
“Really cute.” His breath was searing hot as he whispered into her skin. He pulled back enough to fix Meryl with a gaze that left her breathless. Whatever self conscious doubts she had melted away under the tenderness in Vash’s eyes.
“It looks like a starburst.” He grinned. “It matches mine.”
“Oh yeah? Which one?” Meryl teased. She reached down and caressed his face.
Vash was quiet for a moment, letting himself bask in her attention. “All of them.” His voice was low, and Meryl felt more weight in that statement than just the three words.
She gasped as Vash drew her leg to him and ran his tongue over the scar, letting her taste linger. Her body flushed, pulse racing, under the silken feeling of his mouth pressing wet, open kisses to her thigh. He whispered words of beauty and worship over her, and in turn she did the same. She came to treasure that bullet wound when she saw how much Vash cherished her for it.
Their scars were proof of their convictions, and finally, finally, Vash wasn’t alone.