Scars

by blood-lust6

She was running and running. From what she still had no clue but every fiber in her body was screaming at her to just run. She was frightened, no, terrified. It was dark all around her fleeing legs but she could hear her footfalls echo. And then it became hard to run. Her body became lethargic and slow. She knew she could go faster but she kept going slower and slower. It was on her heels now. Their icey cold fingers were winding their way up her legs, pulling her down. She was falling, being dragged down to the cold depths of her dreams. And the terror intensified to the point where she no longer rationally thought. Pure panic raced through her every nerve and vein. And she could do nothing. She could just scream.

And she woke up screaming, catapulting up off the mattress. Her arms were outstretched but as the scream ended and she was left gasping for breath, They folded. She brought her hands up to her face and covered the tears quickly forming there.

"Meryl? Meryl are you all right?" Someone's voice washing over her, their hands touching her shoulder, icey fingers. She still wasn't thinking clearly as she flinched away from hand, off the bed and over to a darker area of the room. Once there she curled her knees to her chest and shook.

The door burst open, slamming so hard against the wall it bounced back into the people rushing into the room. She still didn't want to look, still covering her face with her hands. The tears had stopped and she was trying to think, trying to remember what she was doing, who she was, where she was. Who were these people? There were soothing voices all around her, two masculine and one the familiar feminine one all asking her what was wrong, Meryl what's wrong, talk to us Meryl, please.

Meryl. That was her name. Meryl..What was her last name? Stryfe. Yes that was it. She worked for an insurance company but the name eluded her. Who were these people? How did they know her. Think Meryl think.

"Meryl come on snap out of it." Their tone was still gentle but firmer. Almost panicky. A strong grip came down on her shoulders, a warmer grip, not the icey hands. She decided it was okay now to take her palms away from her eyes.

The first thing her shaky eyes met were crystalline blue pools, filled with worry. Then she focused and realized she knew all of these people. They were her friends, Millie, Vash, Wolfwood. They weren't the cold hands.

She wanted to grab Vash's shirt and cry into his chest, tell them all what had scared her so in her dream but by the look in all of their eyes, She knew it would not be a wise move. Instead, Meryl made a move to stand.

Vash rose with her from his crouched position still holding onto her shoulders. Good thing too, she thought warily, because her legs were shaking so badly she wasn't sure if they would support her.

"Meryl, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?" Millie asked. Her hair was strewn all about her face, her eyes sleepy but wide and awake. Meryl looked into them, fear rapidly dissapearing from her body. Now she just felt drained and tired. But the commandeering emotion present was embarrassment.

"Yeah. Bad dream." Her nonchalant tone wasn't very convincingly. She could tell because Wolfwood and Vash raised their eyebrows. Vash looked her up and down. She knew he was tyring to figure out something on his own but his gaze was making her already rosey cheeks color even more.

"Some dream. Are you all right?" The priest's tone was also worried. Hell they were all worried. Meryl didn't meet any of their faces as she kept her own down and turned slightly towards the bed.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just.."

"Were scared shitless?" Vash offered. Meryl felt a spark of slight anger at this as she glared at him.

"No. I wasn't scared at all." Speaking about it brought back the memories she had of the fear she had felt and she fought a shiver. All she wanted to do was snuggle into Vash's strong arms but instead she pushed his hands roughly off her shoulders and threw on a robe the Bartender had graciously allowed them to borrow.

"Where are you going?" Wolfwood asked. He and Vash had begun to follow her while Millie looked around for her robe.

"I'm thirsty so I'm going down for a drink. Go back to bed." And with that, nightmare hardly forgotten but composure reinstated, Meryl walked down the creaky stairwell and out into the bar.

She took the liberty of pouring herself a glass of water, the hand holding the glass was shaking still and when she poured the ice cubes in it began to make a horrid clanking noise. Finally, Meryl set it down and just stared off into the shadows.

It wasn't the first time she had had the dream. In fact for a few months since she began tracking down Vash the Stampede she'd been having it. But not this bad. Never this worse. She shivered at the thought again. Deciding it was best not to dwell on such a thing, Meryl turned her attention to other things in the small bar/diner.

It was a very nice saloon considering the rest of the town was abandoned and falling down. The owner's late husband, as told by the owner, had managed to put in wood flooring and counters. The tables were also made of wood. That probably explained why there was so few. But to make up for the lack of tables, There was a lot of comfy, cushioned chairs set around the room.

Meryl yawned involuntarily. She should try and get some rest. It was almost morning and Vash, Wolfwood, and Millie would be up early and raring to go. So she downed her water in a large gulp and rinsed her glass. Then she headed up the stairs again.