Chapter Text
“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Meryl read aloud that day in his old room. The words had stayed with him for years, lingering in the back of his mind like a distant call—but only then did he truly feel their weight, as though they were meant just for him.
At the time, he’d held a rough idea of how he wanted his life to unfold. He knew he wanted to leave his outlaw days behind, to help Luida with her research, and to let go of the looming question of his lifespan. Most of all, he knew he wanted to spend whatever time he had left with Meryl and the people he cared about.
Still, back then, everything had felt abstract—fragile, like a dream he feared might shatter at any moment. The chaos with Kenneth and everything that followed had felt like the universe’s cruel reminder that Vash the Stampede was destined for calamity. Love and peace were ideals he could only chase, never truly hold.
But even after more than a century in this world, life still managed to surprise him.
Luida clasped her hands together, her eyes wide with disbelief. “It worked—it really worked! Plot B is flourishing!”
Before them lay a small patch of grass and scattered wildflowers—nothing extravagant, certainly nothing like the lush vegetation in the ship’s rec room. But it was life, fragile yet determined, blooming freely under Gunsmoke’s unforgiving sky.
It had been almost three months since Loretta’s reactivation. With Vash’s technical expertise and her energy channeled into the project, Luida’s research had advanced at an astonishing pace. They had already managed to reroute power to the dry, barren soil just beyond the ship. Somehow, that little push had been enough to make the ground fertile again.
“And it’s only been a few days since we planted the seeds,” she observed, jotting down notes with focused intensity. “According to Earth’s old records, wild vegetation shouldn’t develop this fast.”
“Yeah, that’s how the old way worked,” Vash replied, a broad smile lighting up his face. “But since we’re kind of in a pinch, we had to speed things up.”
Even though the theory had always made sense, seeing it actually work still amazed him. He gestured toward the patch of green, hope sparking in his eyes. “If we can convince others to use my sisters’ energy for growing vegetation instead of just generating electricity and running tech, we might be able to turn a few cities into self-sustaining ecosystems in a few years.”
“The convincing part might be the trickiest thing,” Luida said thoughtfully. “People are afraid of change, and switching from plant-based energy to solar—giving your sisters the freedom to create flora—might sound risky if it’s not explained properly.”
Vash could see Luida’s mind already turning, planning the next steps. He let it pass for now. There would be time to discuss things further. He made his way toward the large research tent where the rest of the team was busy collecting data. These days, they spent more time outside than inside the lab, adapting the space into a functional research hub.
As soon as he entered the buzzing tent, someone him called out.
“Hey, boss! Can you double-check the moisture levels near Plot C? The readings seem off,” one of the junior researchers, Tomas, called out without looking up from his station.
He paused, blinking in surprise. Boss, huh? He shook his head, amused.
“On it,” Vash replied, slipping the clipboard under his arm as he headed out.
It still felt strange being treated like Luida’s second-in-command. At first, he thought they were just being polite, maybe a bit deferential because of his history. But lately, it was clear they trusted him—not as some living legend or outlaw, but as someone who knew what he was doing.
He’d never imagined himself with a steady role like any ordinary human, let alone one with such purpose. Yet, strangely, he was okay with it—more than okay. He liked the routine: waking up with a sense of direction, solving problems alongside a team that believed in what they were building.
And then there was the quiet certainty of coming home. At the end of each long, sun-soaked day, someone was always waiting for him. Meryl, mostly recovered but still taking things easy, spent her days with Milly or Selva before settling into her writing in the afternoon until he returned.
That’s why the first thing he heard when he turned into the hallway leading to their room was the steady rhythm of her typing. The familiar clatter of keys signaled he was almost there—close to where he belonged. It was simple, ordinary—and the closest he’d ever felt to coming home. The fact she always greeted him with a kiss, one that often deepened into something far more intimate now that she healed enough, didn’t hurt either.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he was living his one precious life—not just surviving it. And he couldn’t wait to see where it would take them next. He had to admit, he was getting ambitious too. The settlement was great for now, but back then, with Meryl, he’d glimpsed a future he still longed to make real—so maybe, sooner or later, the urge for a new adventure that would lead them there would come calling again.
“Hey, look at you! You seem quite in your element,” Rodney said from the tent’s entrance, a knowing grin on his face. His messenger bag hung casually over his shoulder, hinting at his usual mail route.
Vash waved and walked over. “Guess I am,” he said, hands slipping into his pockets. “Feels kinda weird, but… not bad.”
Rodney smirked, leaning against the tent’s entrance. “Speaking of weird… people still overcompensating for all the crap they put you through? I heard you and Meryl’ve been getting free lunches like royalty.”
Vash shrugged, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “It happens sometimes. Not gonna lie, it’s nice—but I think they’re just trying to make things right, in their own way.”
“Better free food than awkward apologies,” Rodney said with a smirk. He rummaged through his messenger bag and pulled out a small envelope. “Anyway, I wanted to say hi and also deliver this.” He handed it over carefully. “We finally set the date—Jessica and I are getting married next month. She insisted you, Meryl, and Milly get formal invitations. It’s going to be a small affair, but we’d be glad to have you there.”
Vash accepted the invitation, his eyes widening in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face. “You finally set the date, huh? Congratulations, Rodney. That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, but it still feels kinda unreal.” Rodney scratched the back of his neck, looking both excited and a little overwhelmed. “Jess has been talking about this forever… figured it was about time.”
“Well, you know we wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good.” The young man’s features warmed with genuine affection. “After everything… it feels right to celebrate something good, you know?”
Vash nodded as he opened the envelope. Its floral embellishments and heart motifs were unmistakably Jessica’s style. It was clear she’d put her whole heart into making even the smallest details special.
“Oh, before I forget, I also have this,” Rodney added, digging through his bag once more. He pulled out a small stack of letters tied together with a simple string. “These came from the Bernardelli Press Division, they are addressed to something called The Stryfe Report. We suddenly got a bunch of them, and I wasn’t sure what to do with them… until I remembered that’s Meryl’s last name.”
Vash stared at the correspondence, his heart pounding. So it had worked.
“Hey, you okay?” Rodney’s question cut through his spiraling thoughts, his expression curious.
“Yeah,” Vash managed with a faint smile. “Thanks, Rodney. I’ll… I’ll make sure she gets these.”
Rodney gave him a casual thumbs-up before heading off, leaving Vash alone with the letters. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. There was no turning back now.
His mind raced, cycling through every possible way to explain things to Meryl once he got home. He’d acted on impulse, driven by good intentions—but that might not be enough. All he could do now was hope she’d understand—and that she wouldn’t be too upset when she found out.
“So now that Jess is getting married, can we expect the same news from you and Mr. Vash soon?” an older woman teased Meryl while helping Selva organize medical supplies in the clinic.
Meryl nearly dropped the clipboard she was holding, her cheeks turning a noticeable shade of pink. “W-We’re not—” she stammered, flustered but trying to sound composed. “That’s not… we haven’t talked about anything like that.”
Selva smirked knowingly but stayed quiet, pretending to be focused on restocking bandages.
“Oh, nonsense!” the visitor chuckled. “You two are always together, and anyone can see how he looks at you—like you hung the moons in the sky.”
Meryl couldn’t help but smile despite herself, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re… happy as we are,” she said, almost to herself.
Lately, they’d been getting a lot of visits like this at the nurse’s station—someone coming in with a minor complaint only to linger for nearly an hour, chatting about anything and everything. It was clear these weren’t just check-ins for health concerns.
At first, Meryl had been a bit wary. She couldn’t help but wonder if these visits came from guilt or curiosity about what had happened back in New Santiago. After all, most of the people reaching out now had shown little interest in her before. But over time, the conversations felt more genuine. People weren’t prying or offering empty apologies—they were just making an effort to connect.
“By the way, how’s young Joaquin doing? I heard he’s recovering well enough,” the older woman asked, adjusting the strap of her woven bag. “Letti’s always following him around, making sure he doesn’t strain himself.”
“He should be here in a few minutes for his weekly check-up,” Selva replied, glancing at her watch. “There’s still one stubborn burn on his right arm that’s slow to heal, but other than that, aside from some scarring, he’ll be okay.”
“Poor thing, I bet he’s still down after the Feds came for his father last month. But honestly… that Kenneth wasn’t doing anyone any favors, even before the fall. Some people don’t deserve the children they have.”
Selva’s expression tightened for a moment, like she was about to say something but thought better of it. Meryl could tell she was holding back, choosing to let the comment hang in the air without adding to it.
“Well, I’d better get going,” the woman added, adjusting her bag. “Thank you for the tea—and the company.” She nodded warmly before making her way out, her steps slow but steady.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Selva exhaled, shaking her head. “Some people just say whatever comes to mind, huh?”
Meryl shrugged lightly. “At least she meant well.”
Selva’s expression eased. “Yeah. She’s not wrong… it’s just weird hearing someone talk about it so casually.” She paused, glancing at the clock again. “Speaking of which, he should’ve been here by now.”
As if on cue, the clinic’s door creaked open, and Joaquin stepped inside, Letti hovering just behind him like an ever-watchful shadow. His right arm was still wrapped in bandages, and the burns on the lower part of his face, though healing, had already begun to take on a shiny, scarred appearance.
“Hey,” Joaquin greeted casually. “Sorry we’re late. We got held up at the supply depot. Letti wouldn’t let me carry anything heavy.”
Letti huffed, hands on her hips. “You’re still recovering, genius. You don’t get points for showing up half-broken.”
Despite her sharp words, a note of genuine concern lingered beneath her tone. Joaquin chuckled quietly, clearly accustomed to her no-nonsense attitude.
“Alright, sit down,” Selva instructed, already reaching for her medical tools. She carefully unwrapped the bandage on Joaquin’s arm, inspecting the healing skin. “Looks better than last week—that’s progress. How’s your breathing?”
“Better, but I still get tired pretty quickly,” Joaquin admitted.
“Which is exactly why I don’t want him overdoing it,” Letti added with a pointed look.
“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Joaquin grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Meryl watched them quietly. Their dynamic reminded her of something—of someone. She couldn’t help but think of herself and Vash, back when she was constantly scolding him for pushing himself too hard despite his injuries.
Could it be that these two…?
She gave a small shake of her head, pushing the thought aside as she turned back to help Selva with the supplies. No sense in jumping to conclusions—at least, not yet.
Besides, Joaquin seemed generally less morose since the Feds had taken his father away. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She didn’t know much about the details of the last conversation between father and son, but from what Selva and Luida had told her, it had been intense and left the young man depressed for an entire week though.
Apparently, Kenneth had tried to claim that Joaquin hadn’t been more seriously injured because he’d made sure to keep him away from the fire, getting burned himself in the process. Whether that was true or not didn’t change much. Too much damage had already been done—and the bare minimum of decency wasn’t enough to earn his redemption and much less, his son’s forgiveness.
“So, how’ve you been doing yourself, Miss Meryl?” Joaquin asked as Selva continued her work on his arm. “Are you feeling better? I’ve seen you running around the hospital, the research tent, and the rec room like nothing ever happened.”
“Oh yeah,” Meryl replied. “Sometimes I still get some phantom pain in my back, but nothing serious.”
“You still shouldn’t be running around so much,” Joaquin added, attempting a light scolding tone. “Don’t make me lecture you about taking it easy.”
Meryl raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh, really? Coming from the guy who keeps ‘forgetting’ to rest after getting severely burned?”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Fair enough.”
“Thought so,” she quipped. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me send Letti after you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a mock salute, but his smile was genuine.
Conversations like these have become more common over the past few weeks, especially ever since Joaquin learned she’d been the one to decipher his emergency code and reactivate Loretta. He’d been awkward about it at first, stumbling over thanks he clearly wasn’t used to giving. But Meryl had brushed it off, telling him he’d done the hard part by sending the signal in the first place.
Since then, something akin to a friendship had formed. She had taken on the role of an older sister, keeping a protective eye on a younger brother trying a little too hard to act tough.
As the consultation continued, a question nagged at Meryl. Adjusting the supplies on the tray, she asked casually, “By the way… I’ve been meaning to ask about that code. The one that unlocked Loretta—2110. What does it mean?”
Joaquin stilled for a moment, his expression softening. “It’s my little brother’s birthday. October 21,” he admitted quietly. “I guess since it had just passed, it was on my mind… He’d be a teenager now if… if he was still around.”
Meryl nodded slowly, touched by his honesty but choosing not to elaborate further to avoid making him uncomfortable. “I understand. Thanks,” she said gently.
It was ironic, though—how something so deeply personal to Joaquin had played a role in saving the day. His little brother’s birthday had unknowingly become the key that helped them reactivate Loretta, setting everything in motion. And yet, it was his father—consumed by bitterness and selfishness—who had created the dangerous situation in the first place.
Life had a cruel sense of symmetry sometimes.
Selva, finishing up the bandage on his arm, broke the silence. “The scars on your arm and face won’t fade completely,” she said, matter-of-fact but not unkind. “You’ll heal well, but there’ll be some lasting marks.”
Joaquin snorted, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Well, that’s a bummer. Guess girls won’t be lining up anytime soon.”
Before anyone could respond, Letti—who’d been busy checking the shelves—muttered under her breath, maybe a bit louder than she intended, “I wouldn’t mind.”
The room stilled.
Joaquin blinked, glancing at Letti like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. She kept her eyes firmly on the shelves, her face just a shade pinker than before.
Meryl bit back a knowing smirk, her eyes sparkling with recognition. What an interesting déjà vu. She chose to keep quiet, though. Some things were better left to unfold on their own.
Clearing her throat, Selva snapped back into her professional air. “Anyway,” she said, “don’t skip next week’s check-up—or you’ll have both me and Letti on your case.”
Joaquin nodded, still looking a bit dazed. “Got it,” he muttered, and for the first time in a while, his smile seemed a little less guarded.
Selva finished securing the last bandage with a practiced hand. “Alright, you’re good to go. Don’t forget—next week, same time.”
“Yes, ma’am,”.
Letti rolled her eyes playfully. “Try not to trip over yourself until then.”
Joaquin smirked, glancing at her. “No promises.” He said, shifting on his feet like he was debating saying something else but thought better of it. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and slung it over his good shoulder. “See you next week.”
“Take it easy,” Meryl added, giving him a warm but pointed look.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a half-laugh as he headed toward the door, Letti falling into step beside him.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Selva let out a low chuckle. “Well, that was something.”
Meryl raised an eyebrow, still smirking. “Young love, maybe?”
Selva arched a brow. “Funny you say that—Jessica was here earlier handing out wedding invitations. She mentioned leaving yours with Rodney during his mail route.”
“Oh?” Meryl’s curiosity piqued, though her amusement faded when Selva added casually:
“She also mentioned that a bunch of letters came in addressed to you—from Bernardelli something.”
Meryl stiffened, her mind immediately flashing to the worst possibility: the insurance agency. After all this time, were trying to contact her again? Why now? Could it be that Vash was deemed again a human disaster?
Noticing her sudden tension, Selva added . “Hey, it might not be what you’re thinking. Rodney started his mail route in the research tent today—probably Vash already has them. Why don’t you leave early and go to meet him and see what’s all about?”
Meryl exhaled slowly, nodding despite the anxious knot tightening in her stomach. “Yeah… good idea.”
The nurse rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it is, you’re not dealing with it alone. You’ve got people in your and Vash’s corner now so we will figure it out. ”
She managed a faint, grateful smile, though her mind still lingered on those mysterious letters. What could they be—and why now?
“Hey boss, your girlfriend’s here!” someone called from across the tent.
Vash looked up from the samples he’d been analyzing and saw Meryl standing near the entrance, shifting her weight a little awkwardly. She rarely visited him at work—always worried about interrupting something important, no matter how often he told her she was part of the reason he was there at all. That thoughtful streak of hers never seemed to fade.
Tugging off his gloves, he walked over, his fingers grazing hers instinctively as soon as he reached her side. “Hey,” he greeted. “What brings you by?”
Meryl smiled and intertwined their fingers like it was second nature. “I finished early and thought I’d swing by and walk home together. you were supposed to be done by now too. Right?.”
“Yeah, I was supposed to be done,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Lost track of time—again.”
Meryl arched an eyebrow. “Figures. I thought I’d save you the trouble of wandering in after dark.”
He chuckled. “You always think ahead.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly. “Give me a minute to wrap up, and we can head out.”
As he turned to tidy up the workspace and exchanged a few farewells, he caught her lingering near the edge of the tent, her gaze drifting toward the glowing horizon. The sunset’s fading light bathed her in soft, golden hues, making her seem almost ethereal. In moments like this, it still struck him—just how deeply he loved her and how fiercely he wanted her to be happy.
“Ready?” he called out after a beat, slipping the bundle of letters into his work bag. Meryl noticed but chose not to say anything—for now. For some reason, the panic she had felt earlier had eased a little. Maybe, just as Selva had said, whatever it was, she wasn’t going to face it alone.
“Ready,” she replied.
Hand in hand, they walked toward the ship’s entrance, exchanging casual greetings with a few people they passed. The air was warm, and the setting suns bathed the camp in a beautiful, golden light, painting everything in gentle hues of amber and rose. For a while, it felt like any other quiet evening—simple, peaceful, and entirely theirs.
But as they neared the entrance, Meryl’s eyes drifted to the bag slung over Vash’s shoulder. “By the way… do you know anything about that correspondence I got—the one you grabbed before we left?” she asked, tilting her head just enough to catch his expression, searching for any hint of what he might be thinking.
Vash froze for a fraction of a second, his mind spinning. The timing wasn’t great—he hadn’t figured out how to bring it up yet.
“Why don’t we take a walk instead?” he suggested all of the sudden, his best attempt at a casual smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Meryl arched an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in his posture. “Why do I feel like you got yourself into trouble and you’re scared of how I’ll react?”
He let out a small, sheepish laugh. “Maybe… but it’s not that bad. Or at least, I think it’s not.” He added quickly, “I promise.”
Her gaze lingered on him, skeptical but expectant. “Alright, let’s walk.” she said finally.
With that, they veered off the usual path toward the outskirts of the settlement, making their way to a quiet cliff overlooking the ship and the scattered lights beginning to shimmer below. The spot was avoided by most—more than a few drunks had taken unlucky tumbles—but for Vash and Meryl, it had become a secluded refuge over the past month, a place where the constant buzz of their new life faded into the background.
It also reminded them of that cliff near LR, where they’d shared one of their first real heart-to-hearts so many years ago. Back then, they’d kept each other at arm’s length, burdened by uncertainty and tangled in unspoken emotions, weighed down by the echoes of recent tragedies.
Now, it felt lighter—but no less significant. They’d come a long way since then, after all.
Vash helped Meryl up the narrow ridge until they reached their usual perch—a flat, weathered rock with a clear view of the settlement and the ship below. Without a word, they settled into their familiar spots, sitting side by side.
He rested one arm on his bent knee while his other hand absently brushed the worn edges of the bag at his feet. His attention settled on the horizon as he gathered his thoughts.
Meryl shifted, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched him closely. “Alright, spill it,” she said. “What’s got you so worked up that you brought me all the way out here?”
He hesitated, the familiar weight of uncertainty pressing down. She’d told him she liked him better when he was honest, and he was learning—slowly but surely. No more circling around the subject—he’d just say it.
“Right after you were shot, I was worried about you—not just about your recovery, but how you felt about the whole ordeal… what it meant for you.” His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. “You looked so sad and discouraged… and I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. I know you, Mer. That stubbornness of yours—it’s your best trait. It keeps you fighting, keeps you believing you can make a difference. I… I wanted to help. Maybe I was selfish again… because I couldn’t bear seeing you hurt—not just for your sake, but for mine too.”
Meryl rested her head on his shoulder “Your concept of selfishness is so skewed,” she murmured. “It’s only natural to want the people you love to be happy. If that makes you selfish, then I’m the most selfish person alive—because I hate seeing you hurt.”
He smiled faintly and wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. “So I kept thinking about how I could remind you that you have the power to change people—you’ve done it before. You once called yourself ordinary, but that’s not true at all. Look at me—I’m living proof that you can change someone for the better.” He paused. “That’s when I remembered your project.”
She shifted slightly. “Okay… so what about it?” she asked.
“You always said you wanted to change people’s minds through your writing, to make them see things differently. I don’t care what people think of me when they read what you wrote—whether it changes their opinion of me or not. But I wanted you to know that your words matter. That you have power—real power—because, Mer… you gave me hope. I know you can do the same for others.”
Meryl lifted her head, searching his face intently. “Vash… what did you do?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I… I reached out to this guy named De Niro from Bernardelli’s editorial office a few months ago. I didn’t even know they had one until I looked into it. It wasn’t hard to get their attention—y’know, given my history with them.” He let out a breathy, self-conscious laugh. “De Niro was blunt—he told me not to get my hopes up. He said, ‘It doesn’t matter if you’re the Stampede or the freaking president. Independent columns rarely get picked up—especially on a planet where hardly anyone bothers to read.’”
Meryl’s expression shifted, stunned. From all the possibilities she’d considered, this hadn’t been one of them.
“So… those letters are addressed to me because… you submitted what I wrote?”
Vash studied her face, trying to gauge whether she was upset or just processing the information. “Technically… yes. I only sent him a few pages—stuff you’d let me read before. I thought… maybe he’d see what I saw in them too.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out the bundle of letters. “I didn’t hear from him after that, so I figured it was a lost cause… but apparently, he went ahead and published them.” His voice dropped. “I’m… I’m sorry, Meryl. Looking back, I broke your trust. You let me read those pages—you never said I could share them. I should’ve asked…”
Meryl’s breath hitched, her focus locked on the bundle in his hands. Slowly, she reached out and took the stack, her fingers trembling a bit as she untied the simple string binding them together.
“Mer—” Vash began, panic rising. “If people were cruel… if they said anything—”
Before he could finish, she anxiously tore open the first envelope, her eyes scanning the letter with urgency. Then she moved to the next… and the next.
Her breath caught. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and before she could stop herself, a choked sob escaped her lips. She pressed a hand over her mouth, still reading, shoulders trembling.
“Meryl?” Vash leaned forward, concern etched into his features. “Is… is it bad? Did I mess up? Please, just—”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “No, Vash… you didn’t mess up. On the contrary.”
Before he could respond, she smiled—a radiant, tear-filled expression that took his breath away. There was no trace of anger, only overwhelming emotion.
Wordlessly, she pressed the letter she’d been clutching against her chest into his hands and motioned for him to read it. Still uncertain, Vash unfolded the paper and began to scan its contents.
“I remember seeing you following the Human Typhoon way back. I always wondered how a young lady like you and your friend decided to stick around someone so dangerous…
But the guy wasn’t that bad. In fact, he prevented my wife from getting shot in a brawl. I always wanted to say thanks to him for that—and now I can thank you too.
I always wondered what happened to him after the war… and I’m glad he’s doing something good for us. It gives me hope for this broken world. Maybe it’s time we get our shit together and try to be the kind of people someone like him believes we can be.”
As he continued reading, disbelief prickled at the edges of his mind. No… this has to be a fluke, he thought, still incredulous.
He picked up another letter and read its contents:
“I never thought I’d read about him again—not like this. I met him once during a sandstorm. He came looking for shelter, but I told him to get lost—I didn’t want anything to do with him, thought he was bad news. He just smiled, said ‘thanks,’ and kept going. I felt awful afterward… always wished I could apologize. Even then, he still saved us. And now… he’s trying to save us again.”
Letter after letter, the messages echoed the same sentiment—people sharing how their lives had been touched by him in one way or another, how they now followed the Gunsmoke restoration project with renewed interest, and how Meryl’s words inspired a longing to become the kind of people worthy of the faith he still had in humanity.
His grip on the paper trembled slightly as he lowered it, overwhelmed by the sincerity woven into every line.
“You see?” she whispered, her eyes still shining with unshed tears. “You didn’t screw up at all.”
He stood abruptly, restless energy coursing through him. He’d told himself countless times that he didn’t care what people thought—that their opinions couldn’t change who he was or what he believed in. And for the most part, that was true. But reading these letters…
And it was because of her—the woman sitting quietly beside him. This was supposed to be about her, about reminding her of her worth and strength. Yet, in her unwavering belief, she’d given him something he never thought he deserved: a place in a world he thought would never be his.
“Vash, are you okay?” she asked, standing up too, worry flickering across her face at his sudden movement.
He turned toward her with a radiant smile, his eyes shining with emotion.
“You are amazing, Meryl Stryfe. Do you know that?”
She blushed in spite of herself. “Maybe you should say it more often, you know, because—”
Before she could finish, he swept her into a bone-crushing hug, lifting her just enough that her feet left the ground for a moment. His arms held her securely, his face buried in her hair like he needed to anchor himself.
She laughed breathlessly as he set her down, her hands resting against his chest. “Vash, what’s gotten into you?”
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, “Don’t worry… I’ll tell you how amazing you are every day of my life, if you’ll have me.”
Her breath hitched—not from surprise, but from the sincerity. She slid her arms around his neck, her fingers threading gently through his hair.
“You’re such a sap,” she murmured, affection dancing in her voice.
“And you love it,” he teased, resting his forehead against hers, their shared warmth chasing away the fading chill of the evening.
“I do,” she whispered, her eyes locked with his.
Before she could say anything more, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. His touch was tender yet certain, a quiet promise exchanged without words.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the past, not what lay ahead. Just them, here, crafting their own story in a world that was finally theirs to share.
I n the following weeks, more letters addressed to Meryl kept arriving, each one a mix of heartfelt gratitude, shared stories, and support for the restoration project. Then, one letter stood out—a formal-looking envelope bearing the Bernardelli Press seal.
It was from De Niro, the editor Vash had mentioned. His tone was brisk and professional, but with a rough-edged charm that felt oddly fitting:
“Miss Stryfe,
The test run for your column was a success. If you’re interested, keep sending more pieces—we’ll see where this goes.
I don’t know how this will work out in the long run, but… welcome to the nasty world of the press, newbie.
R. De Niro
P.S. If you ever pass through November City, swing by the office. And bring some decent booze—you owe me for taking a gamble on this.”
During their lunch break while setting up decorations for Jessica and Rodney’s wedding, Meryl read it aloud to Milly and Vash, her brow furrowing in mock indignation. “Newbie? How dare he?” she huffed, crossing her arms with dramatic flair.
“Well, he called me ‘Spikey’ more than once during our correspondence, so I guess that’s just how he is,” Vash offered with a shrug, suppressing a grin.
Milly giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe he means it as a term of endearment?”
“I doubt it,” Meryl grumbled, though a faint, determined glint sparked in her eyes. “He’s about to learn exactly what kind of ‘newbie’ he’s dealing with.”
Milly’s smile faltered, just a bit. “Well… November City isn’t exactly close,” she said thoughtfully. “But I guess you can pass by… when you’re on the road again. With Mr. Vash.”
Both of them stilled, exchanging a glance. They’d planned to talk about it after the wedding tomorrow, but as always, nothing seemed to escape Milly’s observant eye. It wasn’t like they’d tried to keep it a secret—between the growing interest in Meryl’s writing on Vash, the progress in Luida’s research, and the constant meetings they’d been having, Milly must have connected the dots long ago.
“Don’t worry,” Milly added gently. “I already told Senpai I was expecting you to leave at some point. Honestly… I think I knew even before she did. It’s clear to me this was never your last stop. This place... it was more like a starting point—for all the things you needed to figure out before moving forward.”
Vash nodded thoughtfully. “Two cities are already interested in switching to solar-based energy and using their Plants’ power exclusively to create fertile soil. If it works, more might join,” he explained. “Since Meryl kind of made me the face of all this, Luida thinks I should be working on-site and doing the convincing.”
“And of course, Senpai will want to join you, right?”.
“I need to be where the story is…” Meryl said, then glanced at Vash with quiet affection. “And well, at this point, it’s no secret we don’t want to be apart… for obvious reasons.”
“You can always come with us. I need all the extra help I can get—and after everything we’ve been through, I trust you with my life,” Vash said earnestly.
He knew Milly had been carving her own path ever since they’d arrived. They hadn’t drifted apart in a bad way—just in the natural rhythm of life pulling them toward different callings. Still, he couldn’t help but hope things might work out the way they had before: the three of them, together. They’d already lost Nicholas. The thought of leaving Milly behind felt wrong, even if she wouldn’t truly be gone.
“We’ve talked about this, you know?” he continued. “Meryl told me you turned the offer down before… but maybe you could change your mind? We’re leaving soon after the wedding…”
Milly’s eyes softened, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Just like you two have built a new life together… I’ve built mine here—with everyone at the farm. This is where I belong now.”
Her attention shifted toward the others also gathered for lunch, her focus lingering on Todd, the young foreman who waved when he noticed her watching. Maybe her life wouldn’t be as exciting or unpredictable as her friends’, but it was hers—steady, meaningful, and full of small, quiet joys she wouldn’t trade for anything.
Milly’s thoughts drifted toward the barn where she’d spent countless early mornings sorting crops and sharing stories after planting seeds or clearing weeds. She could still hear Todd’s easy laugh echoing from the tool shed, where he’d once patiently taught her how to repair a stubborn irrigation pump. Back then, she’d thought she’d only be passing through—but somewhere along the way, this place became her home.
Her expression grew serious but remained gentle. “Don’t feel guilty, okay? We’ve shared so much, but it’s time for all of us to figure out where we belong. This isn’t goodbye—we just need to sort our own stuff out for a while.”
Milly’s features brightened as she added, “I made Meryl promise me something though—and now I’m making you promise too.” She poked Vash lightly in the arm. “Once you two finally settle down somewhere, I want to be there. No sneaking off without telling me where your home ends up being, okay?”
Vash chuckled, but the sound caught in his throat. He blinked rapidly, his eyes misting despite himself. “You’ve got my word,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Wherever our home ends up… you’ll always have a place in it.”
“Good.” Milly beamed. “Because I’m holding you both to that.”
He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand. “You always know what to say, Milly.”
“That’s because I mean it,” she replied, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. “We’re family, no matter where we are.”
Before the moment could turn too heavy, Milly perked up, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Now, tell me all about this project of yours! Maybe I can offer some farming wisdom. You’d be surprised what you can learn from working the land.”
Vash let out a genuine laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all,” he admitted. “We could definitely use someone who knows what they’re doing—Luida and I are just figuring things out as we go.”
“Well then,” Milly said with determination, folding her arms playfully, “you better start explaining—because I’m not letting you two run off without some proper farming tips.”
The conversation unfolded as easily as it would have on the road years ago, filled with familiarity and shared memories. It was clear the topic was settled. This time, it would be just Meryl and Vash—but that didn’t need to be a bad thing.
Separations didn’t always have to be tragic or final. Sometimes, letting go meant giving the people you loved space to grow. They could walk different paths and still find their way back to each other—wiser, stronger, and happier than before.
Weddings on Gunsmoke were considered a luxury, so it was only natural that Jessica and Rodney’s ceremony was small and modest. With the settlement still living in a fragile balance, wasting resources was simply not an option—even for its most beloved community members.
Jessica wore a simple white dress, and Rodney donned his best shirt and trousers. There were no extravagant decorations or a large crowd—just about twenty close friends gathered in the ship’s rec room. Later, they planned to continue the celebration at the local tavern, where anyone who wished to join their joy would be welcome.
But none of that seemed to matter. The way Jessica’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Rodney, and the quiet pride in his expression as he held her hand, spoke louder than any lavish celebration ever could. This was all they needed.
As the young couple exchanged vows in front of Doc, promising to love and support each other through good times and bad while building a future together, Vash’s heart swelled. In his long century-plus on this harsh planet, this wasn’t the first wedding he’d attended—but this one felt different.
He’d known both bride and groom since they were young, making their happiness all the more meaningful, especially considering Jessica’s difficult past. Yet, beyond that, for the first time, he didn’t watch the ceremony with the bittersweet detachment of a distant observer. He no longer felt like someone destined to stand on the outside, imagining how such a future could ever be within reach.
As the ceremony continued, Vash let his eyes drift over the small gathering. Joaquin and Letti stood near the back, unusually quiet, their shoulders almost touching as they watched the vows being exchanged. Luida stood off to the side, her face lit with happiness. Beside her, Selva crossed her arms, her typically sharp expression surprisingly gentle.
Then he spotted Milly near the front, sitting beside Todd. Her fingers rested lightly in his, her face alight with joy and tears she didn’t bother to wipe away. She’d always been open like that—wearing her heart on her sleeve with a kind of courage he’d long admired.
Vash swallowed hard, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. He was going to miss them—every single one. Some connections were new, others had been rebuilt, and a few had grown deeper than he ever expected.
Then the hand holding his tightened, as if sensing the wave of emotions building inside him. He turned to Meryl, sitting beside him. She looked stunning in what she modestly called an “old navy-blue dress” she’d carried with her “just in case.”
Had he ever imagined being here with her like this when they first met? Absolutely not. Back then, hope felt too dangerous—something he couldn’t afford. He’d eventually admitted to himself she was important in an abstract way, someone he respected and cared about. But now, sitting here with her hand in his, he realized how much that had changed.
Here he was, daring to think that maybe, in a not-too-distant future, they might be the ones exchanging vows in front of the same people.
As Doc declared Jessica and Rodney husband and wife and the crowd erupted into a round of applause, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
“You’re getting emotional, huh?”
“A bit,” he admitted.
“Don’t worry, me too,” she confessed, her eyes shining. “So let’s try to have some fun. There’s still plenty of time to get sentimental before we leave.”
Together, they rose and followed the rest of the guests toward the tables and chairs they had set up as a small reception area, laughter and chatter already filling the air. The space felt lively despite its simplicity—a perfect reflection of the celebration’s heart.
Vash and Meryl found themselves mingling, exchanging stories, and sharing in the joy of the day. Eventually, they drifted apart, each drawn into different conversations.
Near the refreshment table, Selva approached Meryl, offering her a drink with a knowing look. “You’re leaving next week, right?” she asked casually. “I’ll have to find some time to talk to Vash before then.”
Meryl blinked, momentarily thrown off. “About what?”
Selva shrugged lightly. “A bit of everything—how he better take care of you on the road, how much we’ll miss him… and that we’ll be waiting for him to come back.”
Her voice dropped slightly, tinged with sincerity. “And… that I won’t forgive him.”
Meryl’s brow furrowed in confusion until Selva added firmly, “Because there’s nothing to forgive. My circumstances are tragic, and I have every right to feel hurt—but blaming him was never fair. He was never at fault.”
The nurse let out a quiet, almost self-conscious laugh, shaking her head. “For a second, I got you there, didn’t I? Sorry, I’m a bit rusty when it comes to talking about this stuff.”
Meryl exhaled, relieved yet moved by Selva’s honesty. “It is okay. Keep on, you are better than you think”
Selva’s expression turned nostalgic. “He’s always had a huge heart, you know?” Her gaze drifted toward where Vash was talking with Doc near the edge of the reception. “At first, my husband was the one wary of him… but when I oversaw Vash’s recovery after everything, he looked so fragile—so much younger somehow, despite looking almost exactly the same as he does now.”
She paused, as if weighing her next words carefully. “I didn’t know if he ever had a family, but I liked to think that if he’d had a mother who cared about him, she’d want to know her kid was safe with us. That’s why I always tried to make him feel welcome. So iIt was good while it lasted. And… deep down, I missed it when it was over.”
Selva hesitated for just a moment before adding, “We might not have the same bond we had back then… after everything. And I know that’s on me. But we still have time… don’t we? We can try”
Meryl offered a reassuring smile. “Yes. We plan to make this our touchpoint during our trips. When we’re here, you can do that. I know he’ll be happy about it. He’s missed you too. He always talks fondly about you and your family.”
“Of course he does,” Selva replied. “They were great… and no matter how much I pushed him away after their deaths, that man doesn’t have a single bit of malice in his heart. Honestly, Meryl… I’m glad he’ll be with you from now on. You deserve someone like him.”
She held Meryl’s gaze, something almost maternal surfacing in her expression. “I’ve grown fond of you too. At first, you reminded me of my daughter—that’s all. But you’ve proven to be a remarkable person in your own right.”
Meryl’s smiled at Selva’s words, gratitude flooding through her. “Thank you,” she said. “That means more than you know.”
Selva managed a small, genuine smile. “So he’s lucky to have you too...”
Before the moment could go on, Joaquin’s voice rang out from across the reception area, calling for Selva’s help with one of the food tables tipping precariously.
Selva sighed but rolled her eyes with fond exasperation. “Duty calls.”
She squeezed Meryl’s arm briefly before walking off, leaving her standing there, still processing their conversation.
For a long time, Meryl’s faith in people had been unwavering—until life tested her in the harshest ways. After everything she’d been through, she’d felt that certainty falter. But seeing how people responded to her writing about Vash, how they were willing to listen and change, had rekindled something she thought she might’ve lost.
Still, a small part of her had held back, wary of hoping too much. But this conversation, even cut short, gave her the final push she needed. Selva’s words weren’t just reassurance—they were an undeniable reminder that faith in others could be restored—not because people were perfect, but because they were capable of growth, of trying again.
A burst of laughter from across the reception tugged her from her thoughts. Letti was teasing Joaquin about something, drawing more laughter from the others. Meryl lingered for a moment longer, watching the easy camaraderie unfold before turning toward the far edge of the gathering.
Near the outskirts of the celebration, she spotted Doc and Vash in deep conversation. At first, their postures seemed at ease, their talk seemingly light—but something about their stance suggested the conversation had taken a more serious turn. Trusting that Vash could handle whatever it was, Meryl let her attention drift back toward the celebration, leaving them to their private exchange.
“I was going to wait until after the party,” Doc was saying to Vash, his tone measured, “but since you’re here, and I figured it might’ve crossed your mind at some point…”
Vash tilted his head, curious.
“While you were unconscious, I ran a few tests—just in case your ‘angel’ form accelerated your… condition.”
Vash blinked, momentarily stunned. He hadn’t thought about it at all since Loretta assured him he’d be fine as long as he didn’t stay connected to that dream-like space for too long—which they hadn’t.
“And?” he prompted.
Doc exhaled slowly, his shoulders easing just a bit. “Nothing alarming so far. Everything seems just like before. But I’ve been thinking about how to monitor any changes better. I have a few ideas—not perfect, but enough to give you some reassurance moving forward.”
Vash’s eyes drifted toward Meryl, who stood across the reception, laughing at something Letti had said. Her expression was open, radiant in a way that still felt new despite everything they’d endured.
Turning back, Vash offered a faint, steady smile. “I appreciate it… but I’m good for now.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
He thought about how this very uncertainty had driven them to the ship in the first place, how much fear and anguish it had caused him back then. But now, after everything, he found he didn’t care—not in the same desperate way he once did. He had a good feeling about where life was headed. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was just the rush of feeling genuinely happy for the first time since the fall—but he was willing to take that chance.
“Yeah.” Vash said resolutely. “I’m taking your advice for once… gonna hope for the best, like every other person who realizes they’ll fade from this world someday. Knowing how or when it’ll happen won’t change where I am now—or what I’m planning for me and Meryl’s future.”
Doc studied him for a moment, as if weighing the sincerity behind his words. Finally, he gave a slow nod, something like respect flickering in his expression.
“That’s… surprisingly grounded coming from you,” Doc admitted with a hint of a smile. “I guess even legends can learn a thing or two about living.”
“Guess so. Took me long enough.”
As a new set of music floated through the reception, Vash’s attention drifted back toward the crowd. An idea sparked—a simple, impulsive need he couldn’t ignore.
“Excuse me, Doc,” he said, already stepping away with a small grin.
Doc smirked knowingly but said nothing, letting him go.
Vash moved through the guests, weaving past familiar faces, until he spotted her. Letti had just left Meryl’s side, likely off to drag Joaquin into a dance. Meryl was adjusting her drink absentmindedly when she noticed him approaching.
“Hey,” he said, gently resting a hand on her arm. “I lost you for a while there.”
“Busy mingling. You know how it is.”
He lingered for a moment, his heart swelling at her smile. “I was talking with Doc, and then I remembered something… Last time, you promised you’d dance with me and never quite delivered.”
Her eyes widened slightly at the sudden request, memories flickering of another time, in another place—when they’d danced under dimmed lights of the settlement’s tavern but had to stop because she’d been too sick to continue.
For a second, she hesitated, the echoes of that bittersweet memory brushing against the present. Then, just like before—but without any lingering shadows—she slipped her hand into his.
“Only if you promise not to let me go this time,” she said, her grip firm.
“I’m never letting you go,” he answered, pulling her gently into the soft rhythm of the music.
They danced for a while, lost in the quiet rhythm, moving together as if nothing else existed. Vash’s hand rested securely on Meryl’s waist. Her head rested lightly against his chest, his heartbeat calm and steady beneath her cheek. Being here, like this, felt almost unreal—something she’d never imagined possible, yet something she’d longed for in the deepest part of her heart. On the other hand, Vash held her a little closer, savoring the simple reality of having her with him—not out of desperation or fear, but because he could and because she wanted him there.
They shared in the celebration too, mingling with friends, exchanging stories, and congratulating Jessica and Rodney with genuine joy. They toasted with Joaquin and Letti, laughed at one of Doc’s rare jokes, and watched Milly and Todd twirl across the makeshift dance floor with unrestrained happiness.
But most of the time, they stayed wrapped in each other’s presence, savoring the quiet comfort of being together.
As the current song drifted to an end, Jessica and Rodney called out to the guests, announcing they’d continue the celebration at the local tavern. Cheers rose, and people began making their way out, still caught in the joyous buzz of the evening.
Vash considered joining them but paused, another idea sparking in the back of his mind—something personal, something just for them.
Without a word, he gently tugged Meryl’s hand, steering her away from the crowd. She followed without hesitation, though curiosity flickered in her expression.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they walked down the opposite corridor, away from the bustling reception.
“I wanted to visit someone who couldn’t be there today before we keep celebrating,” he said quietly.
Meryl’s eyes lit up with recognition, a clear understanding passing between them. Of course. She hadn’t realized it until he said it, but she wanted to see her too.
Wordlessly, they walked through the familiar hallways, their steps echoing against the metal floor. The distant hum of the ship’s old systems replaced the space that had once pulsed with laughter, celebration, and music.
When they reached the research lab, the automatic door slid open with a hiss, revealing Loretta’s bulb. Her glow pulsed steadily, calm and unwavering, illuminating the dimly lit room with a serene, almost ethereal light. Sensing their presence, she drifted down to greet them.
Though Meryl could no longer communicate with her the way she once could, she still felt something—something like resonance in her mind, like a melodic hum that lingered whenever she was near Loretta, and sometimes, even Vash. Another small miracle, she thought—unexpected but deeply cherished.
With their fingers still entwined, they stepped closer until each of them rested a hand gently against the glass. Loretta mirrored the gesture, her light shimmering faintly in response.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, the three connected again in a shared silence.
Vash’s words eventually broke the stillness. “Back in that dream world… I wished so badly for it to be real. That place… where everything was fine, where no one got hurt… it was the home I wanted to share with you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I think it was the same for me. That’s why it took me so long to notice it wasn’t real. A part of me wanted to stay there forever.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I used to believe places like that only existed in dreams. But now… I want to make you a promise. I want to try to give that world to you someday. I didn’t think I had it in me to be this daring… but I believe we can make it happen. It’ll take time, and I won’t blame you if you hold it against me if it never does but—”
Loretta’s glow pulsed gently, almost as if following his words. Meryl couldn’t help but smile. Yes, he rambles like this when he wants to say something important , she thought, as if explaining to Loretta in a telepathic way.
Gently, she squeezed his hand, her expression tender. “Vash… you do realize this sounds an awful lot like a proposal,” she teased.
He blinked, caught off guard, then let out a breathless laugh. “It’s… not. At least… not yet.” His gaze dropped for a moment before rising again. “But I guess… maybe it’s a promise in its own way.”
“I know,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. “And what you’re offering… it feels like a commitment I’d gladly make—with you. I decided long ago that I wanted to stay… but I know you’d like to hear me say it out loud, so—yeah. I promise. We’ll build that world together… whatever it ends up being.”
Loretta’s glow increased faintly, as though responding to the understanding they’d reached.
A surge of emotion welled within Vash—not fear or uncertainty, but something far rarer—hope. “So… we’re together from now on?” he asked, pulling her into his arms and pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of her head.
“Did you ever doubt that?” she murmured, resting comfortably against him. “But yeah… I’m all aboard.”
The fact that she wanted to share her life with him still amazed Vash—but he was done second-guessing his worth. After all the heartbreak, struggles, and countless tears, this moment—their figures entwined, illuminated by the light his sister offered—felt like one of those rare, perfect instances that made everything worth it.
They’d shared so many moments like this since arriving at the ship—small miracles stitched together through pure resilience and hope. He didn’t know what the future held, but for once, that uncertainty didn’t scare him. What mattered was that they’d chosen each other, again and again.
They weren’t chasing peace anymore—they were building it, shaping a future forged not by fate but by their shared resolve.
“This is what I want to do,” he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion. “With my one wild and precious life... I want it to be ours.”
Meryl pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resting her head against his chest, holding him just a little tighter. “Then let’s live it—together.”
Vash closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hum of the ship blend with the quiet rhythm of Meryl’s breath. Whatever came next—whatever challenges or unexpected turns—they would face them side by side.
And for the first time in a long time, it felt like more than just a promise.
It felt like home.