Disclaimer: One day, someone sat down and had the brilliant idea to make a manga entitled "Trigun".

However, that was not my ingenious plan.

Thus…I do not own Trigun. I am a mere bug on the window shield of Nightow's success.

…ewww…

* * * * *

Vash lie in bed, wide-awake. The crying had carried on half the night and finally silence had come in a rushing wave through the house that silenced and swept up the spent tears Meryl had been divulging. Even when Milly had gone in with the soup in hopes of cheering up her friend, Meryl was too hysterical to talk or even breathe right. The tall brunette had worked as hard as she could to calm the victim down, and it had worked for a bit. Cradling Meryl in her arms for well over an hour had calmed her temporarily, soothed the shot nerves crying out desperately for some reassurance that the pain searing at her soul would seize its ambush. Then after Milly left to go sleep herself, Meryl had quietly slipped back into her turmoil and continued to pour her heart out into her pillow with whatever she could scrape from the depths of her torment.

And he heard it all.

As much as he tried to shove out the mangled sounds from his mind, no matter what blockades he tried to push up, no matter how many times he hummed Rem's favorite song to himself or preoccupied himself with counting the lines on the wall next to his bed or nearly suffocated himself in his pillow trying to cloud it all out, it came through and it was even more painful than he could have ever imagined. He wondered how many times Meryl had lie like this in the room next to him and listened to him cry out for Rem with his heart and soul backing it up and wondered how she could continue to smile at him the very next morning. How was it possible?

Rolling over, Vash sat up on the edge of the bed, clad only in a pair of long gray sweat pants. It was too hot tonight for anything else. Much too hot. And there was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight, not with Meryl in the next room fresh out of tears and leaving him fresh out of drowsiness.

The gunman clambered to his feet and silently slipped on a beige tinted button-up shirt to cover up the gnarled scars clawing at his tan skin. He pulled it close to the flesh dappled with glistening sweat and carefully opened his door, hoping that the squeaky hinges would not squeal in the dead of night. Fortunately, with some of His gospel as Wolfwood would surely put it, the door was silent and he slid out of the house onto the porch. Taking a seat in the carefully crafted rocking chair he had requested outside, he tilted his head back against the steeping arch at the crest of the back and stared up at the sky.

"It's nice out here," he noted with a grim smile. "Too nice. Why should it be so nice when so many people are suffering?" A small smirk crept across his face and his eyebrows knit together ruefully. "I'm becoming so damn pessimistic," he laughed bitterly.

A pause. "Rem…what would you do if you were in my shoes? There is no doubt in my mind you would make the right decisions that would help Meryl the most…I just wish I knew what they were." He sighed with frustration, feeling utterly hopeless at the moment. "I want to make her happy."

"Then you should listen to what your heart says, Vash-san," chimed a voice gently. Vash nearly toppled from the chair as he snapped his head around to take a gander at the person who had interrupted his thoughts.

Milly Thompson stood there with a smile, true as gold and everything Vash's smile wasn't. Wrapped up in a cream colored bathrobe that she had purchased with her monotonous colored pajamas, Milly stepped out from the doorway and stood beside him, looking up at the stars. Vash watched her silently, as if waiting for the big girl to continue her advice.

Instead of a new piece of advice, she smiled at him and said, "You really care for sempai, don't you, Vash-san?"

"…People shouldn't have to suffer," Vash stated stubbornly in defense of his masked emotions.

"But you hate seeing sempai suffer the most, don't you Vash-san? Because you care deeply for her," pushed Milly confidently. You could always count on Milly to come out and say whatever she was thinking. And this time, Vash had nothing to offer in his defense. Thus being the case, the lightly clothed Humanoid Typhoon said nothing and gazed up at the stars for an answer or a twinkling of hope.

The tall insurance girl took a seat besides him and swung her feet slowly over the edge of the porch, prodding a dandelion with her big toe. She smiled widely to herself and continued in a soft-spoken tone. "Vash-san…it's pretty obvious. You always get such warmth in your eyes whenever she gets mad or whenever she smiles. It's pretty cute," she couldn't help but giggle at the confession, "but I don't think beating around the bush is going to help get your feelings out, Vash-san. Big sister always said you need to be true to your heart, cause then you're true to yourself and others! And that means telling sempai that you care for her." Her head turned and craned back, brunette locks spilling down her back and shimmering in the light. An all-knowing grin brought upon an air of innocence that Vash longed to wrap himself up in. "Right, Vash-san?"

Vash gave her a long considering look, pondering to himself over her words. If only this girl knew exactly how sharp she was! He smiled faintly and the warmth almost touched his eyes, "Did anybody ever tell you how smart you were?"

The smile spread wider. "He used to say that a lot," Milly nearly whispered, speaking of her beloved priest with such a frailty that the words nearly quivered in the air timidly.

"I see." He nodded slowly and looked back up at the stars, memories of the late Nicholas D. Wolfwood clouding his mind in a thick fog. Despite the confusion the "priest" had gone through, he had been such a good man. It was hard to believe that Wolfwood had perished. Vash had envisioned the black-clad friend growing up to become a family man. But, he reminded himself bitterly, the things you expect most are never to be, a lesson he knew too well.

The tall brunette stood up and smiled at him cheerfully, stifling a lengthy yawn. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day, Vash-san. You should go get some sleep now that sempai is asleep," ushered Milly tenderly. Vash nodded in silent agreement and watched her from the corners of his eyes as she slipped silently inside like a passing ghost.

"You never fail to amaze me, Remu."

* * * * *

The sound that stirred him from his sleep was distant, elsewhere…unreal, yet still an annoyance he wished would end.

The lanky gunman had crawled into bed shortly after Milly had returned to her quarters and he had slipped into a soundless sleep finally. The dreams were his usual pleasant memories of life back on the SEEDS ships, but a couple memories of July City and Wolfwood had been tucked in there as well as if to remind him of why he was who he was. Harsh, but a good reminder that he had a job to do.

Bam…bam…bam…

What was that incessant noise? Vash slowly rolled over with a muffled groan, curling further into the sheets and pulling his pillow over his head to block out the sound.

Bam…bam…

No. Nothing would get him out of bed right now. Well, okay, perhaps donuts, but there was no lingering scent of the fluffy cakes from Heaven, thus, he profusely refused to jump to his feet.

But damn, that noise was annoying.

Bam…bam…bam…BAM

"Nope, not getting' up…"

BAM BAM BAM!

"Nooope. No way, Jose. I'm not budging unless someone comes and pries my cold dead Gung-ho grip from the bed…heh…I made a pun."

BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!

Now the Humanoid Typhoon was just getting outraged. What could be so important that they'd want to wake him up at…

The gunman blinked groggily and poked his head out from beneath the sheets and winced viciously as the light spilled in from the windows and seeped into his half-asleep form, now just realizing that he had no indication of what time it may be. Pushing the tangled sheets away from his face, he squinted against the light and out the window to see the large clock tower standing erect in the middle of the large courtyard.

He about swallowed his tongue as he realized that it was a quarter past noon.

Fumbling for the door as the sound hesitated and seized altogether, he tried to untangle his foot from the sheets that were caught in the bed and his form all at once while trying to sprint for the door. After flipping the mattress over and skidding down the hall as he tripped over his blankets and ended up wrapped up in them like a strait jacket, he clambered for the door and flung it open, staring with wild eyes for the person who had interrupted his sleep.

The nurse from last night turned around as the sudden noise dragged her attention back from her muttering obscenities and quickly to the wreck of a man standing in the doorway, chocolate eyes piercing. It looked like he had just gotten through with a grudge match between him and his laundry, and it looked like the whites were gaining the upper hand.

"…Lo!" Vash grinned sheepishly as he kicked the sheet aside after unveiling himself from it. The woman stared owlishly and slowly climbed back up the porch uncertainly. A hand jutted forward, as if demanding to be shook. Vash blinked slowly and took it. The firm shake the woman gave it clued him in that she was a no-nonsense militant woman. Like a mechanical robot of some sorts.

"Good afternoon, Mister Stampede. I hope I didn't interrupt you from anything of too much importance," she slowly said in a mocking tone. Vash gave her a flustered look and was cut off before he could fling a wise crack back at her in his defense. "I have come to check up on Patient 2971, Ms. Stryfe, Meryl. I trust the patient is more awake than the rest of the house's owners…" the nurse said dryly.

Vash blinked tiredly and stepped aside, allowing her to step inside. He adjusted a black sleeve of his pajamas and watched her give accusing looks around the house, sharp eyes taking in everything around her and critically analyzing it. A thought crossed his mind – where had Milly been? Vash furrowed his brow curiously and walked into the kitchen.

"Can I, uh, get you anything, ma'am?" he slowly offered as he plucked a piece of paper up from the counter. It read:

Vash-san –

Went to the grocery store, will be back soon!

-Milly

A smiley had been drawn after the small note. Vash blinked more and set it down, his question answered.

"I just want to see my patient as I came to do, not idly chitchat," drawled the woman icily. Vash had to resist the urge to make a face at her as she turned for Meryl's room. "I presume this is hers, since it is the only one undisturbed?" quizzed the nurse.

Vash glanced at the door that held Meryl inside. This woman was sharp. But, of course, it was the only room that had a closed door, so it was only logical it had been Meryl's.

"Yes, it's Meryl's." His voice sounded slightly strangled, haunted. The woman, who had still presented no name, quirked a pencil thin brow and turned for the room in easy strides.

"Then I will go in and our session may begin. Thank you for your time."

* * * * *

An hour had passed and the silence flowing through the house was driving Vash bonkers. What was going on inside the room? He was subconsciously beginning to think he was wearing a groove into the floor as he paced outside of the smaller insurance girl's bedroom. And where exactly was Miss Thompson? She still hadn't returned from her shopping trip, and it was making him curious. Perhaps Milly had got sidetracked, which had been common for her since they had settled down in the house together. But somehow he knew that couldn't be it, because if her best friend were lying in bed tore up inside and the outside like she was now, she would be there day and night and wouldn't be pried away.

What was going on?

Another half hour passed and Vash had given up walking his endless cycle across the floor and back. Slumping in a chair, he stared out the window in hopes of some sort of sign that life still existed other than himself. And as if on cue, Milly chose this time to slide in through the door with a flustered look. Vash sat upright and looked at her calmly as she dropped her bags hastily upon the tabletop and immediately made a beeline for Meryl's shut door.

"Is Meryl still sleeping? Should I wake her up? Is the nurse here to make sure she's okay?" Milly bombarded. Vash caught himself blinking. So, she had known about the nurse from the night before. That made him wonder how much else she knew.

"I couldn't begin to tell you," stated the Humanoid Typhoon. "The nurse came and she's been locked up in there with her for about two hours now." He tried to edge the irritation hemming his speech. Vash wanted to be in there with them to support Meryl, but he was being cast out, unwanted and useless.

Like he had done to poor Meryl so many times.

Milly's hand faltered around the doorknob as she silenced and listened closely to the chatting coming from inside.

A female voice. "So, you don't say anything because…think…burden?"

Another one, even harder to understand. "I've always been…burden…trouble Vash-san…can't stand it."

"And what…Milly Thompson?"

"She lost someone…can't be…troublesome…have to be strong for her more than myself…"

Milly stiffened and felt her stubborn compassion growing inside. How dare Meryl put others before herself! In a time like this, she was making sure others were okay and not focusing on her own healing! Milly had repeatedly said she was fine, and indeed, she was healing! Milly frowned to herself. She'd have to discuss that with Meryl later on.

Vash watched her stiffen noticeably and pondered what could be running around in that small space between her ears. Obviously she had heard something she wasn't supposed to inside of the bedroom. Curiosity was beginning to make him itch and want to eavesdrop as well, and he was in the right mind to do so. But the thought was dismissed as the door slowly cracked open and the nurse stepped out. Both sets of eyes locked onto her face and Milly stepped back a bit bashfully. The nurse eyed them both and closed the door behind her. Approaching them, she looked over square framed spectacles and gave them a considering look, gathering her thoughts and pondering how to explain simply to them the situation.

"We have a problem," she stated flatly.

* * * * *

Slowly the nurse sipped some of the steamy liquid Milly had prepared for her. The scent of tea wafted in the kitchen as three forms sat at the table stiffly in morbid silence.

"So," Vash broke the silence, "you're saying Meryl has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

The nurse, whose name turned out to be Bethany Williamson, shook her head. "I am saying she might develop it," she looked up with the same critical eyes and set her teacup carefully down into the saucer. Nurse Williamson placed her hands upon her clipboard, flipping through her notes and scanning over the scribbles she had produced.

"What's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?" Milly asked, a hint of worry fringing her usual chipper tone.

Again Bethany let the papers flutter back in order and rested her hands on top in a proper fashion. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a disorder caused by traumatic experiences that include rape, abuse, a serious accident, witness to a murder, or even a mere natural disaster. It causes the victim to undergo psychological and physical problems if they develop it. PTSD can form anytime in one's life, but usually it develops within the first several weeks after the occurrence, and in Ms Stryfe's situation, I am worried it might start to show symptoms in a week or so," explained the nurse.

Milly took all of this into consideration and stared down into her cup of tea, eyebrows knit together as she contemplated the facts she had just gathered from the nurse.

Vash had become very interested in studying the scars on his hands suddenly. "So, how do you know for certain this is what she has or is going to get…?" the gunman asked apprehensively, skeptical of the startling analysis.

Nurse Williamson gave him a sharp, almost scolding look and flipped two pages more before settling on another set of notes. "I highly suspect she might come down with a case of it. 49% of all rape victims come down with the disorder, especially women. I am not saying that she will for sure experience it, but should she do so, then I will press to put her in an institute in December for therapy," she cautioned.

This caught the Humanoid Typhoon's attention. "Therapy? In December?" he exclaimed. Wouldn't that mean…separation? He'd have Meryl torn away from him for months on end, and there was no way he could give up his job. He'd definitely have to have that job and probably take on another just to pay for the therapy bills. The thought alone made his throat clench and his stomach to tighten into a quivering knot.

The tall brunette swallowed all fear and looked up at the nurse. "Would it help her?"

Bethany Williamson paused and mulled over the question in her mind, looking for a decent yet honest answer to give her. "Sometimes it does, and in others it doesn't. It all depends on the patient, really," she finally concluded. "And the cooperation of the friends of the victim."

Vash and Milly met eyes. Milly's crystalline orbs reflected a determination that read that she would give up everything to make Meryl herself again, no matter what the consequences. She was for the therapy. Vash was a bit more hesitant, though, and the fact hung like spider webs in the shadows of his eyes. The gunman turned his gaze back to his hands then let them slide out the window and fixated his gaze on the twin suns high in the sky, dancing among the blue stage set on the horizon. He massaged a temple slowly and lapsed into an awkward silence.

Nurse Williamson was the first to shatter the uncomfortable quietness. "The decision is for her to decide, and hers alone. We cannot make the choice for her. But I hope that whatever she decides that you will both be her pillars of support. Help her along her path to recovery."

"Of course!" Milly chimed immediately, nodding fiercely to emphasize her encouragement. Vash, however, sat in a stony silence and watched as granules of sand swept across his line of vision outside the window and pondered, perhaps, if that was his chances of a happy life floating by in the winds of fate…

* * * * *

Author's Notes: …La la la. Sorry the chapter took so long to get here X_x; I had a major writer's block and I've been uber busy with school. Evil. ; Eh, anyway, here it is, hope it's not a huge disappointment. And I lied…there's not much Vash/Meryl action in this chapter. But hey…that's because I had to trash the old storyline and make a new one. This one will be much better, I'm hoping. Next things will get rolling and start speeding up a little. So whee! Thank you all for being patient and reading this! Means mucho to me. -^^- Back to the grindstone! *shuffles off*