Chapter Text
Meryl Stryfe considered herself a patient person, but Vash had a unique ability to push her over the edge.
It was a perk of being a TV personality that no one would call her out for yelling in the office lunchroom.
“How do two grown men not have eight hundred double dollars between them?!”
“Wha—” Vash was averting Meryl’s eyes, which was frankly ridiculous considering he had sought her out for help in the first place, “Meryl! The economy is in shambles!”
The economy was decidedly not in shambles. With the reconstruction underway, life on No Man’s Land had taken off in ways it had never managed before the botched apocalypse. Despite how close they had come to doomsday, the cities were rebuilding, the population was rebounding, and (miracle of miracles) Vash the Stampede had a day job. He actually had two, if she counted the occasional plant consultations. The chance he was accepting any pay for that work was abysmally close to zero, but that alone wasn’t enough to explain his recurring money problems.
Meryl considered him: his big doe eyes full of limpid tears. The kicked puppy routine had been working better on her recently than ever before, not that she’d ever admit it to him. Something about the black hair and the fact he hadn’t tried to skip town in almost a year. Living the slow life had softened his face in ways that made her heart swell; she knew how few years in his long life had been passed among friends with access to regular meals.
She loved him. She was proud of him. She looked forward to seeing him every day. Each time he showed up at her office with fresh donuts, she could see he was finally glad to be alive, and that made her love him all the more. He was making good on his old promise to return, and she and Milly had decided they would do everything in their power to protect the normal life he had always wanted to live.
None of that changed the fact that he was still Vash, and therefore fundamentally irresponsible. On top of that, he had to learn how to live a normal life completely from scratch. Meryl was learning bit by agonizing bit that he was terrible at it.
“You need a budget, Vash,” she said, “Or this is going to keep happening.”
“We have a budget!”
“A real one. One that you stick to.”
“No, wait, listen. A budget is just a plan for what to do with your money,” Vash insisted, “We have a plan. It’s simple. Wolfwood’s paycheck goes to the orphanage on odd-numbered months, and I take the even-numbered ones. Whoever has money during the month pays for everything else. I get to take home a lot of leftovers from the bakery, which saves on food, and our landlady is sweet on Wolfwood, and sometimes gives him a discount for fixing stuff around the building. So that usually means we can buy a piece of furniture per month and still have money for cigarettes, whiskey, condoms, and water. Electricity is optional. Everything else we scale according to the number of days left before payday.”
Meryl felt her eye twitch.
“So, you’re spending all of your money every month. And you’re paying late fees on your electric bill when the power grid wouldn’t even function without you. For that matter, the water plants rely on you, too. Can you not get some kind of discount?”
“Spending your money is just common sense,” Vash said, ignoring her comment about taking money for plant work, “And anyway our windows don’t really lock, so it’s easier for everyone if we don’t have anything to steal in the event of a robbery.”
“Have you not considered using a bank account?”
“No. You think they’d let me open one now I’m not a wanted man?”
That was how Meryl ended up spending her lunch break pressed up against the myriad other unlucky souls in the un-air-conditioned lobby of the December City Credit Union. Big as he was, Vash made a terrible crowdbreak, and he’d let at least three people cut ahead of them in line before they made it to the teller window. Maybe the real reason he ended up broke at the end of every month was because time meant nothing to him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t open an account without identification.” The teller looked straight through Vash and recited the words with a deadness of tone mastered only by the most seasoned of retail workers.
Incensed, Meryl squeezed herself between Vash and the bars of the window.
“That’s absurd. He’s the single most recognizable person on this planet. I personally spent a year of my life putting his face on every satellite screen from here to January. There’s even a picture of him on the wall behind you!” She pointed to the peeling wanted poster still hanging on the notice board.
“Ma’am, please keep your hands on your side of the counter.” The teller turned their dead-fish eyes to the notice board, then back to Vash and Meryl. “That guy doesn’t look like Vash the Stampede.”
“Are you kidding me?!”
“Even if he was, he still can’t open an account without ID. Now, if you don’t have business with the bank, please step aside and let the next person through.”
It was situations like this that made Meryl miss risking her life on the frontier. She had not spent the last forty minutes sweating off her makeup in this godforsaken line to come away from the ordeal empty-handed. Seeing no other option, she slapped her own ID on the counter.
“Fine. I’d like to open an account under the name Meryl Stryfe, and I’ll need two cards. I’m afraid my domestic partner lost his identification during the near-extinction event.” She subtly elbowed Vash in the ribs before he could say anything to contradict her.
A light of recognition sparked in the teller’s dull eyes.
“Hold on a second, aren’t you Meryl Stryfe from the news? I’m pretty sure you already have an account here—”
Three gunshots rang out before they could finish the sentence.
“Nobody move! This is a stick-up! I want everyone on the ground right now! Yer all at the mercy of legendary outlaw, Loose Lips Verdigris!”
Meryl ignored her impulse to bash her head against the wall and sat on the floor as Vash scurried around the other bank patrons to reach the gunman. Twenty minutes later, they made their escape with two debit cards in hand and one bank robber slung over Vash’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. By some miracle, it was cooler outside. All Meryl could do at this point was laugh.
“I can’t believe all that ended up being faster than doing it the normal way.”
“They seemed grateful to not have to call in the sheriff. And now I can collect the bounty myself! That basically solves my problem. Thanks for helping me out today, Meryl! Dinner is on me.”
Meryl hated to rain on his parade, but he needed to learn.
“Vash, your problem is not solved. How long do you think that money is going to last?”
He shrugged. “Not long. After the eight hundred to fix the bike, I was just gonna send the rest to Hopeland. It’s an even month after all.”
“Do you not see how that leaves you at square one again? I know you’re not as air-headed as you pretend to be. Why are you allergic to saving money?”
Vash cleared his throat in a “please don’t make me answer that” way, but Meryl was practiced at ruthlessness.
“What is it you don’t want to talk about?”
“It’s just that it’s kind of morbid.”
This again.
“The fact you still feel the need to shield me from something like that boggles my mind. What could you possibly be thinking that’s worse than what I’ve already seen?”
They walked on in silence for a bit as she watched his face cycle through a circus of emotions.
“I don’t know how long I’m going to live, Meryl.”
“Does anyone?” She sighed. “The world almost ended just a few years ago.”
“I mean, before, I sort of took it for granted that I would keep moving forever. I couldn’t get too attached, you know?”
She did know. Being sandblasted with over a century of Vash’s memories wasn’t an experience she would forget. Even now, when the details had faded like those of her own childhood, the impression of a profound loneliness remained.
That void in his past life had carved a hole in Meryl’s own heart in the present, one she was trying to fill by any means necessary. It was one of the reasons she’d fought tooth and nail to avert the apocalypse. It was why she’d gone straight back to work afterward to get Vash’s bounty revoked. It was why she’d wasted her entire lunch break dragging him to the bank today. Somewhere along the line, his happiness had become linked to hers, and she still wasn’t done deciding how to feel about that. You didn’t simply say that to someone’s face, though.
“I remember,” she said instead.
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
“Anyway?”
“Anyway what?”
“Keep. Talking. About the thing you were avoiding.” Getting Vash to speak plainly about his feelings was like pulling teeth. Meryl did not intend to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
“Well, I started thinking I was wrong about all of it, because—well, because the three of you wouldn’t leave me alone, and I started to feel good about it even though I was sure you’d get hurt because of me. So I got attached. I thought, if I could get my brother reigned in, I could be there for you, even if it was temporary. And then you did get hurt. And then Wolfwood died. And everything was my fault, and I thought I’d missed my chance at a future.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Meryl said reflexively. Vash pretended not to hear her and continued.
“Now we’ve got him back, and I’m not dying yet. You’ve been recovering, and Milly doesn’t blame me for everything, either...”
“You have a future.”
“Yeah. So you see why I need to send as much money as possible to Hopeland, right?”
Meryl realized she’d been gripping his wrist and let go. She had forgotten how this outing had started.
“I honestly do not see how you being fiscally irresponsible benefits the orphanage.”
“C’mon, Meryl! Is it really so bad to give all that I have? They’re growing so much, and some of the folks from ship three are helping out with the finances. They said the more we do to set it up now, the longer the orphanage can keep going. Maybe even for generations if we get enough donors.”
That way, I’ll have a piece of him forever, even he leaves me again. Vash didn’t need to say that part out loud for Meryl to understand. She’d had a sinking feeling that the money conversation would end up here, and it gave her no satisfaction to be right.
An unexpected consequence of Wolfwood coming back to them was Vash’s irrational fear that he would drop dead at any moment. It manifested in a number of odd ways that Meryl had been passively cataloging over the intervening months. Most recently, she and Milly had left on an errand while Wolfwood napped on their couch; they’d returned to an open window and a sleeping Vash clinging to him like a vine. When Meryl had shaken his shoulder, he'd hissed at her, pupils narrowed to slits. Then, upon fully waking, he’d apologized, burst into tears, and encased all four of them in a feather cocoon that Milly had practically had to dig them out of. Wolfwood, who had slept through the whole thing, acted indifferent when she’d relayed the details later.
That was concerning enough on its own, and she was sure their bizarre living situation couldn’t be helping matters. They obviously weren’t talking about it. Then again, she didn’t know how to bring it up without spooking Vash. The last thing she needed was to hit too close to the heart of the issue and have him disappear for days.
“You don’t know a thing about livin’ in the moment, do ya buck-o?” It took Meryl a moment to remember they had another person with them. The bank robber had been listening this whole time and picked this moment to speak up, “Yanno, if yer always thinkin’ ‘bout the future, yer life’ll be over in the blink of an eye. That’s why I left the futures markets and started knockin’ over banks! I didn’t survive doomsday to die without living the dream! YEEHAW!”
“Quiet, you!” Vash tried to slap a hand over the outlaw’s mouth, but he had to reach behind his back to do so and only succeeded in turning a circle like a cat chasing its own tail.
“Sounds to me like ya spent yer whole life denyin’ yerself pleasure like some kinda ascetic religious type. That ain’t no good for no one. Ya really wanna kick the bucket before ya get the chance to enjoy yerself? If yer sweetheart ain’t dead, ya give ‘em a squeeze! That’s more’n most people can do after the ‘pocalypse.”
Well, if this guy was blurting out whatever was on his mind, then Meryl might as well take it as an opportunity.
“He’s right, you know!” She grabbed Vash’s wrist again to stop him from spinning, “I know you’re afraid something might happen to Nicholas, but spending all of your time and money on the orphanage won’t make him live forever. You can’t let that keep you from living for yourself. Actually, that goes for all of us. Even if you do end up outliving us, I don’t want to spend the time we have together knowing you’re thinking about what will happen after I’m dead. In fact, you don’t even know if you’ll live longer, so it all might be a waste, anyway.”
Vash cringed. “Am I really that obvious?”
“Sonny, I just met ya and alls it took was a little eavesdroppin’ to see yer all kindsa worked up.”
“Sonny?! I’m at least a hundred years older than you! Don’t you see the black hair? I’m aged!”
“Yer a real weirdo, ain’tcha?”
Meryl pinched the bridge of her nose. At least he hadn’t frozen and tried to change the subject. That was progress. She gave his hand a squeeze.
“It’s actually a good thing for your loved ones to know how you’re feeling, Vash. And don’t say you’d rather not burden me with it, remember I’ve seen it all.”
Vash shut his mouth. His eyes turned wide and watery like they had this morning. Damn her soft heart, it was melting again. Maybe the planet was getting hotter, she was sure this hadn’t been a problem a few years ago.
“I don’t really know what to do, Meryl,” he said, squeezing her hand back.
“Start by collecting the bounty, and put half the money in the bank. We can decide what to do with it later.”
“I feel kind of bad turning him in now, though. He did try to help me out with his advice.”
“Ha! Those feds are clowns, all of ‘em! Take the money, oldie, I’ll bust outta there again in no time! No one can contain Loose Lips Verdigris! Legendary outlaw of the new era! Remember the name! And make sure to get it right when ya talk about me on the news, alright missy?”
Meryl swiped the bandana from around his neck and shoved it in his mouth.
“Just take him in. I’ll see you later for that dinner.”
He nodded and showed no signs of skittishness, so she turned on her heel and went back to the office. The weekend was nearly upon them, and she had her real work cut out for her then. Vash had asked for her help, so he was going to get it. He didn’t have to like it.