Scars

by blood-lust6

Meryl sighed, resting her chin in her palm. She was watching the events outside the second story window, mainly just clouds breezing through the blue ocean of a sky. The peaceful scene made her feel guilty concerning yesterday's conversation with Molly. Very guilty. Or maybe it was just her wound finally catching up with her. Either way she felt drained.

She would never admit it out loud but she had been out of line with Molly. Molly wasn't the one being selfish, she was. All that woman had ever done was care and love her as if she had been her own child. And she had to go pull an adolescent stunt like that. Not to mention it didn't get her anywhere. The hole in her back only hurt worse, though it had stopped bleeding long ago and she had a feeling Molly would be back any moment now, wanting to talk.

Meryl felt suddenly very alone, even if she really was alone at the moment. She let her chin drop down to rest on her sternum while encircling herself in her arms, tightening her grip as if holding on for dear life. And she sort of was.

//It's amazing how everything I've worked for for 12 years just suddenly went down the drain in less than a day.// Meryl thought to herself wryly. There was a soft knock at the door, interrupting her. Maybe it was a good thing. And maybe it wasn't. It was most likely Molly, coming to talk to her about...*things*. Maybe she should talk to Molly about what happened, what they did to them.

Then, all at once, she began to remember, actually willingly taking a trip down Memory Lane and looking at all the grotesque pictures of her life. The twisted markings of a scarred child had left her completely changed. But no one could ever tell. That's the way she had planned it. After all was said and done she turned and walked away, destroying every shred of evidence of who she used to be. She'd voluntarily left it all behind. Everything she had ever loved perished that day. There was no reason to come back. And why, if there was no reason, should she let it haunt her?

//But it did..*does* haunt me. It's ironic that the life I turned from follows me like my own shadow.// Her left hand let loose her night shirt, unfolding from around her body to trail a path up her shoulder and over her back, down into her collar. The pads of her fingers trailed further down her shoulderblade until they reached it. A tough patch of scar tissue. Although she'd never think of it as a mere scar. It was a mark, a cruel symbol, engraved upon her skin and carved into her soul. It reminded her of who she really was. It wasn't the only reminder. The thin, hair-line marks on her arms, back, torso, and thighs told her everyday that she wasn't really Meryl Stryfe.

Idly tracing the pattern on her shoulder blade, Meryl looked over to the nightstand. Vash had left her another mug of Molly's stew. It must be cold already. And it wasn't like she was going to eat it anyway. She was upset and she knew that if she attempted to consume anything it'd be right back up in a matter of minutes. Meryl knew that her taller counterpart would not be pleased with her for not eating and she had an feeling Vash wouldn't either. The bumbling oaf did have a serious side, as hard as it was to believe sometimes, and he was the one who gave her her last lecture.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, though she wasn't neccessarily complaining. She slowly slid her hand out of her collar, letting it rest in her lap. Smiling, she awaited whoever it was to open the door.

"You can come in you know." She finally said. The door opened wide and there was Vash, taking up almost all of the door frame. He carried a tray complete with the same steaming mug of stew, toast, and a tall glass of water.

"Lunch is served!" He chirped cheerily. Meryl rolled her eyes when he set down the tray on the nightstand, knowing he wasn't watching. She didn't want him to think she didn't appreciate his help. Hell if she was him he would have taken this oppurtunity to ditch her and Milly. Meryl imagined they got pretty annoying sometimes, although pride would never let her admit it. She was beginning to see Vash in a whole new light.

"Hmm..Insurance girl."

"I'm sorry. It got cold before I got to it." Meryl flashed him an apologetic smile before averting her gaze. It hurt her ego a lot by just being vulnerable and bed ridden but Vash really stuck a knife in it when he went into one of his 'talks'. He was in full lecture mode now, standing with his hands of his slender hips, talking on and on about the importance of how she ate.

"I'll just throw it up anyway so what's the use? I might as well just save myself the trouble and not eat at all." She blurted out finally. It was the truth and she at least owed him the truth.

Vash stopped mid-sentence, frowning in concern. Finally he let out a soft sigh and sat down. He ran a hand through his spikey blonde hair before looking again directly at her.

"Meryl. I know that you've been through quite a lot the last few days. And I understand more than you know but..Do you know you should probably be dead right now? You don't want to be dead anymore than Millie, Wolfwood, or I want you to be. So at least try to eat, okay? "

Meryl bit her lip, still trying not to look him in the face. And then suddenly she just couldn't help and looked up into those blue-green pools. So understanding, so soft. So familiar. Just like- She felt tears welling up in her eyes. He was serious. He was worried. Vash the Stampede was concerned for her well-being and that made her..She wasn't quite sure about the emotion. But whatever it was made her just want to curl up in his arms and tell him everything..

"Alright." It was all she could manage at the moment. He smiled and nodded.

"Good. Now, eat up before it gets cold." He handed her the mug, the smile on his face not one of his usual empty grins. Meryl felt her stomach flip flop as she grabbed the mug and their fingers brushed. A slight blush crept over her cheeks, his too, she noticed. Seeing his own face turn slightly red made hers turn a darker shade and she hid it by bringing the stew to her lips and allowing some of it into her mouth.

As she ate she found out how hungry she really was. By the time she was done, Meryl had finished the entire mug of stew, both pieces of toast, the glass of water, and was now mowing down the old stew. Vash sat in amazement before finally chuckling and putting a hand behind his head.

"See, told you were hungry."

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By the time Vash got back downstairs, Millie had Molly practically backed into a corner. Although it really was no big surprise.When he had went upstairs to give Meryl her food, Millie had asked Molly what had happened while the three had been out at the store. The tall insurance girl was fiercely loyal to Meryl and finding her riled up in bad condition was cause for some concern on her part.

Vash took a seat next to Wolfwod at Molly's dinner table, idly grabbing some food of the man's plate.

"Hey!"

"So find out anything yet?"

"Not yet but I'm betting another 2 minutes before the old lady folds." Vash wasn't sure about that but just as he popped the roll into his mouth, Molly sighed heavily and walked out from around Millie. The tall girl watched her as she motioned to the table and sat down.

"I suppose you all have a right to hear this. She's your friend after all." Molly propped her chin up with her hand, waiting until she had all their attention.

"Have a right to hear what?" Wolfwood asked through a mouthful. Millie slapped his arm in a maternal manner.

"Don't talk with your mouth full of food, Wolfwood-san it's impolite." The priest gave her a sour look before swallowing and repeating his question. Molly's downcast eyes raised their interest, Vash's being probably the highest of them all.

"Hear about Meryl's past." He answered for them, his knowing eyes watching Molly for a reaction. The red-head looked up at him but other than that she didn't really do anything. A few seconds of silence wavered over the group's heads before Molly straightened.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you this or not but..Perhaps you can help her more than I can. In order for that to happen you must know. Now I'm not sure what Meryl told you, about her life before joining up with you people-"

"I've asked her about family before but she never said anything, just kind of avoided the subject. In fact, no body at the Bernardelli Insurance Company knows anything about Meryl's past." Millie interrupted. Molly nodded and smiled sadly at the tall girl, before meeting the eyes of each person at the table. Her eyes rested for a long moment on Vash's.

"There's a reason for that, I assure you, a good reason. Ack, where are my manners? To tell you a long story in such uncomfortable conditions..My mother would be quite ashamed of me. Please, let's go into the living room."

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Every night, He'd thank God for his family. Tonight was no exception.

David McKinsly, a 45 year old Sheriff, already greying and aging, lay in his bed that night feeling ashamed. He didn't deserved to be sleeping next to his wife, didn't deserve to be in this house with his children. Not when others went without.

Seeing Grey Davenport earlier, explaining to him his wife was dead, his children gone, was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. At least with the Harper and O'Connely family he didn't have to tell the parents their children had been kidnapped and weren't coming back. But that was almost a worst case because the parents were dead.

He sat up carefully, watching his wife for any signs she'd wake. She kept sleeping, the lines of her face softened in rest. Dave smiled and left the room.

Walking out on the porch and sitting in his rocker there was one of his favorite things to do when he needed to think about something. And thinking was something he needed to do right about now. His mind was buzzing with ideas, possible reasons why, 12 years later, a corporation he'd seen the death of was resurfacing and obviously on the rampage. There was no doubt in his mind that it was them. The pattern of how the crimes went were the same, down to the very last detail. It was just too much to be coincidence.

Of course the people nowadays were a lot more willing to accept the conclusion. Only about four of the townspeople, him being one of those four, would ever want to deny that that was the reason. But four against how many others..They just didn't stand a chance. And maybe it was a good thing they didn't either because denying the truth never got a man anywhere besides being killed or hurt in some way.

Across the way, He could see Molly's lights on. Dave imagined that she was trying her best to explain to the three passerbys the conditions of the case. Not that he wouldn't have been doing the same thing. They had done a brave thing that day. They could easily just have skipped town at the first gunshot. But instead they all risked their lives. One of them even got shot trying to save the Davenport children.

It was a shame that's what it took to gain Dave McKinsly's trust but trust was a hard-earned thing. He'd learned that with some difficulty long, long ago when this town wasn't even a sparkle in their eye. He sighed and kept up his steady rocking. Another day, another crime, another sin, another death. He just hoped this time he'd be able to stop it before history repeated itself.