She goes still and silent, and Vash does not know quite how he should handle that. He has come upon many troubled people in the towns he's drifted through like a tumbleweed, and it is nothing to help to lend a hand. Seeing other people smile is one of the few things that brings him a measure of peace, fleeting as it may ever be. But he is not someone who tends to be able to ease the wounds in anyone else's soul. His own has dragged against the weight of his guilt and his grief for decades.

He doesn't ask her what happened. He doesn't ask her if she's alright. He doesn't even utter an "I'm sorry" in blanket empathy as he had that first time they met. Instead, after some time sitting like this, he quietly starts to hum a tune. Mercy may find she recognizes it, after what she's just seen. It was her favorite song, after all.