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Homecoming “Oh, look, Meryl, he’s back!” Milly squealed.
Meryl turned, following Milly’s gaze. Her heart stopped when her eyes fell on the tall figure in the distance. The red coat was gone but she knew it was him. “Vash,” she whispered. Before she knew what she was doing, she was running towards him. Milly was right behind her. His goofy grin was a welcomed sight. “Hey, girls!” “Mr. Vash, you’re alive!” Milly cried. “Yeah,” he replied with a chuckle, “isn’t that something?” “And this must be your brother.” Milly’s comment drew Meryl’s attention to the figure draped over Vash’s shoulder. He was tall, probably matching his twin in height. His hair was spiky but shorter and a darker shade of blonde compared to Vash. He had numerous bandages wrapped around his body, indicating the lengths that Vash had to go through to win the battle. How Vash had kept the bandages clean in the desert she would never know. She turned her attention to the Human Typhoon himself. “Oh, Vash, you’re hurt,” she murmured, eying his wounded shoulder. He shifted the dead weight of his brother as he looked down at her. “It’s nothing, really,” he said. “Nothing?” she repeated. “Nothing! You’ve been shot, you idiot!” “Yeah, I know,” he replied quickly, trying to step back from the now angry woman in front of him. Meryl grabbed an edge of his body armor, preventing his retreat. “How is it that you take care of his wounds but don’t even bother to bandage your own?” “Well, he was hurt more than I was.” Vash’s voice was now rising to a whining pitch. “Oh, you infuriating broomhead!” She whirled on her heel, never letting go of him. “Come on.” “Where’re we going?” He stumbled slightly as Meryl pulled him behind her. “To bandage your wound. Now.” Vash suddenly felt Knives lifted from his shoulder. He turned to meet Milly’s smiling face. She had the Plant over her shoulder like he weighed nothing, which he knew painfully was a lie. “Don’t worry, Mr. Vash, I’ve got him. You go get your wound fixed. I’ll take of your brother.” “Milly, are you sure?” he asked. He eyed the tall insurance girl carefully. This was the man who orchestrated the death of Nicholas after all. “I’m sure,” she replied with a wide, innocent smile. “We’ll be right behind you.” “Come on, Vash,” Meryl said with a tug on his shirt, “quit stalling.” “All right, all right.” “Finally,” Meryl muttered. She continued her grumblings in a low, angry voice as she dragged the lanky gunman through town. She was oblivious to the bystanders’ shocked or amused gazes. Vash was only able to give a shrug or a nervous smile as he met the stares. Maybe he had been safer in the desert with his homicidal brother after all. * * * * * Vash managed only glances as Meryl dragged him through the house. He hadn’t expected many changes in his relatively short absence. Those he did find were an occasional additional piece of furniture or a new homey touch. ‘Appears the insurance girls are settling in,’ he mused. Meryl stopped once they entered the kitchen. She ordered Vash to sit in a chair while she retrieved the needed supplies. Shaking his head, he complied. He immediately noticed that the bed he had recovered in was gone from the room. He was glad. He could do without the remainder of the state he was in before he faced Knives. He didn’t doubt that the girls felt the same way. The short girl returned with an armful of supplies. Vash watched her as she arranged things on the table. She was methodical as always. “Take off your shirt.” “Here? In the kitchen?” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “What kind of girl are you?” She stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then, her face immediately flushed crimson. She sputtered in fury before whacking him upside the head. “Ow!” he protested, clutching his bruised skull. “It was just a joke!” “You’re not funny. Now, please, take off your shirt so we can get this over with.” Vash bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something else. There were just too many possibilities. As fun as it was to tease Meryl Strife, his head was aching enough as is. He got the body armor off with help from Meryl so he wouldn’t aggravate his injured shoulder. She turned her back to get some water while he worked on the shirt. Part of it stuck to his skin. With a grimace, he ripped it off. Once the offending garment was off, Meryl set to work. With gentle hands, she cleaned the wound. She probed it for any sign of infection and was glad to find none. She then began to dress it, wrapping his shoulder with practiced ease. “Okay, we’re here!” Milly bellowed. “We’re in the kitchen,” Meryl called in reply. Moments later, Milly appeared, Knives still over her shoulder. “Where should we put him?” “Put him in the spare room upstairs,” Meryl said after a moment’s pause. “Okay, Meryl.” The short insurance girl finished her bandaging in quick order. “You heal pretty quickly but I should still take a look at it tomorrow. Just don’t try to aggravate it.” “Okay.” She quickly gathered the supplies back up again. “I’m going to go check your brother now. Milly should be able to find you some clean clothes.” “Meryl.” She stopped, slowing meeting his eyes. “Yes?” “Thank you.” She matched his smile. “You’re welcome.” She turned and headed to the stairs. Once she got there, she paused. “Welcome home, Vash.” He whirled to say something, only to see that she was already up the stairs. With a quiet sigh, he settled back in the chair. It wasn’t quite the welcome he expected. But it would do. |
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