Chapter 1: the kinda love i've been dreaming of
Summary:
“I should tell Vash to find the sunscreen.”
A grin slipped into Nick’s voice. “’Member how bad he got it last time?”
Meryl shook her head, pressing her lips together to suppress the giggle. “He was peeling for a week straight.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In all fairness, Meryl had no way of knowing it would end like this.
See, when Vash knocked on her and Milly’s door at five in the fucking morning with the most chipper smile she’d seen on him in about a week, she knew she was fucked. The way he held himself, the way he was practically holding Wolfwood up by the shoulders in a one-armed grip spoke to his complete and utter elation.
“It’s summer break!” he had chirped. Nick’s head fell onto Vash’s shoulder as he groaned, apparently still hungover from the night before spent celebrating the end of exams. “None of us have anything to do so let’s all go to the beach together!”
Milly, still in her pyjamas and silk robe, had clapped her hands together. Right next to Meryl’s ear. While she was hungover. “Oh! That sounds wonderful! I’ll start getting ready right away.”
Meryl took a deep breath, glaring at Wolfwood who offered no sympathy or support, too out of it to do much but drool on Vash’s shoulder. When it became clear that he was going to be completely useless, she ground her teeth together and, in the nicest, most calm and jovial way she could, got out, “Milly. Bed.” Then, to her idiot friend in red, “It’s five in the fucking morning, Vash.”
The smile on his face slipped before returning full force, if a little sheepish. “Oops?”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“I—” He blanched as she stepped aside for him to cross the threshold. Vash readjusted Wolfwood and maneuvered him over to the couch where he sank in with a moan, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over his head. “I mean! I got a few hours in!”
“Vash,” Meryl said, still with that calm and nice tone, “we left your place at three. My head still hurts. Wolfwood is dying. You can ask about the beach in six hours when we aren’t about to keel over, alright?”
He very nearly pouted at her and she had to wrestle the urge to throw him out on his ass, but nodded regardless. “Deal.” He paused. “You have a swimsuit, right?”
She jabbed him in the chest with a finger, making him yelp from surprise. “Ask. In. Six. Hours.”
“Yes ma’am.”
With that, Meryl had turned on her heel and gone back to sleep, tucking herself into Milly’s arms once again and drifting off with warmth and quiet surrounding her on every side. Her girlfriend curled around her, forming a protective barrier against anything vaguely Vash-shaped for the next however long she was allowed to sleep.
She was then startled out of sleep by a very tentative knock. “Hello? It’s been six hours.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Meryl breathed into Milly’s neck. “I’m actually gonna fucking kill him. I’ll strangle him, I swear.”
“You don’t want that,” was the sleepy answer. Milly was already starting to pull away and she whined at the loss of contact before rolling onto her back and making peace with the fact that this was her life now. It was her fault. She should have never let the idiot with the red coat talk his way into her life.
The door opened and Vash, looking exactly how he did about six hours earlier, waltzed right in, uncaring of regular friend boundaries. “You look better!” he said brightly, unaware to the extreme. Meryl reconsidered her homicide plan. If she was smart about it, Wolfwood would hide the body. “Ready to go? I’ll even drive, this time, if you want me t—”
She shot up so fast she almost winded herself, and it startled Vash into taking a step back when she fixed him with the most vicious glare she could muster. “How many times have we told you that we are never letting you drive us anywhere again, hm? Get out. I’m getting changed.”
“I’ll make coffee!”
She resisted the urge to slam her head against the wall.
Meryl found Wolfwood loading her car after breakfast, sunglasses firmly on. He grimaced at her in lieu of an actual greeting. She made the same face back and leaned against the hood in her dress, a long floral thing an aunt bought her years ago. It wasn’t something she would wear out but it was cool and breathable, with thin straps and a flattering silhouette. And it layered over her bikini excellently.
Wolfwood was already in board shorts and a loose t-shirt. Black, of course, as if he would be caught wearing anything else. “Big girl’s bringin’ the picnic,” he said gruffly. “’N I think blondie’s raiding your cabinets.” He said this with an air of apology, even as Meryl waved it off. Maybe they weren’t normal friends by any stretch of the imagination, with how often they spent days at one another’s houses and were so familiar they simply showed up to stay over with no explanation.
“I should tell Vash to find the sunscreen.”
A grin slipped into Nick’s voice. “’Member how bad he got it last time?”
Meryl shook her head, pressing her lips together to suppress the giggle. “He was peeling for a week straight.”
“I tell him to be careful and he manages to get himself in trouble anyway.” Shaking his head fondly, he slammed the boot shut and pat it, almost absently. “Idiot.”
“Our idiot,” she said with a sigh, watching Milly and Vash walk out of the front door with their arms laden with things. Vash’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he balanced everything he deemed worthy and then some. Meryl pinched the bridge of her nose. “Vash, why are you bringing a hairdryer?”
“You never know!”
“Where the hell are we going to find an outlet on the beach?”
“It runs on battery!” he insisted. “Milly doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.”
Her eye twitched. For the umpteenth time that day, she needed to remind herself that throttling one of her best friends was, in fact, not on the table at all. It wasn’t even in the same room. “Alright. Did you at least get the sunscreen?”
He paused mid-step, almost tripping over his own feet at the last second before catching himself. “No,” Vash mumbled, the tips of his ears red.
Meryl and Wolfwood sighed at the same time.
Meryl wasted no time. The moment they arrived in the car park, heralded by the cry of seagulls and the taste of salt in the air, she stepped out and began directing her much taller and stronger friends into taking the various baskets down to the sand.
Milly laid down blankets for them to sit on while Meryl grabbed a designated tub of water to wash away the sand on their feet for when they wanted to sit. Wolfwood set up the umbrellas and Vash carried the picnic down, setting it up.
Pretty successful, if you asked her. No dilly-dallying at all which she loved to see. Some might call her a tyrant. She would say it was efficient.
“Alright.” Meryl pulled out the tub of sunscreen and, before Vash had the chance to get away, grabbed him by the front of his stupid Hawaiian shirt and forced him into a kneel by her feet. “Sit,” she growled.
“Meryl!” Squirming and attempting to duck away from her hands proved completely futile. She grabbed him by the sides of his face and he winced at the wet slap of the lotion against his skin. Rubbing it in was akin to a victory in her eyes. “C’mon!” he whined. “I can do it myself!”
“Last time you did it yourself, you almost burnt to a crisp.” Her words came out as a vicious snarl which only caused him to curl further in on himself in shame. At the sound of Wolfwood’s laughter, she levelled him a deadly glare. “You’re next.”
“Wh—no!”
Vash laughed. Threw his head back and cackled even, overcome with mirth which gave Meryl the opening to rub lotion down his neck. It caused him to shudder and gag, making another attempt at escape. To rectify this, she gave him a look that held the wrath of the gods. “Arms.”
Obediently, he held out his arms to her. Her fingers already knew him and his numerous scars, ones that crisscrossed the length of his right arm and decorated the stump of his left. She made it a point to lather every inch of available skin with lotion, refusing to balk or flinch at the carnage that lay across it.
He watched her tentatively now, his flesh hand hovering over her wrist. He never talked about it, never made a deal about it but Meryl wanted nothing more than to go back in time and tell every single bastard who made him want to hide his body to go fuck themselves.
Instead, she sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “The moment you start to overheat, you come straight back here and drink some water. Am I understood?”
He nodded frantically, eyes darting between Wolfwood and the ocean. “Can I go?”
“You’re dismissed.”
He sprung up like a startled hare, scrambling to his feet and nearly knocking the umbrella over with how fast he was running. Vash made a beeline for the sea and they could all hear him shrieking as he submerged himself.
“Should he really be going in with his prosthetic?” Nick mumbled, taking a seat so that Meryl could properly anoint him.
“Nope. And it’s your job to drag his ass back here before he does any irreparable damage.”
“Fuck me.”
Wolfwood took the sunscreen about as well as she thought he would. That is to say, he complained but not as much as Vash. He squirmed around halfheartedly, watching his friend in the waves with that fucking lovesick look on his face. The two of them, being such big idiots, could not see what was right in front of them and it was driving Meryl up the wall. Milly, bless her heart, implored her to be patient with them but it felt like a losing battle.
Lightly, she smacked Nick’s bare shoulder. “Go get your man,” she said sharply. “With any luck, he hasn’t been stung by a jellyfish or something.”
“Not my man,” was his response as he jogged down toward the shoreline.
Milly, by far her favourite person here, knelt in front of Meryl without any complaints at all. There were few people prettier than her, in a pale yellow two piece and floaty, asymmetrical skirt. “Oh, aren’t they just so cute?” she gushed, watching Wolfwood grab Vash in a headlock as he dragged him away from the water. Vash was kicking and screaming the entire time, red in the face with a huge, dopey smile stretched out over his lips. “Maybe it’ll happen this year.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Mills,” she grumbled. The hangover wasn’t so bad with sunglasses on. Meryl settled her chin on top of Milly’s head with a hum. “It’ll take nothing short of divine intervention for those idiots to finally get their heads out of their asses and ask each other out.”
“I have faith!” Milly laughed. She twisted her head and pressed a soft kiss against Meryl’s lips, one which she leaned into with a smile. “We just need to give them some patience. And a little push.”
“More like a shove.”
Vash was dragged over, looking more like a wet cat than a person with his mop of sun-bleached hair. Wolfwood held his prosthetic as if it was a hunting trophy, holding it victoriously over his head. “You didn’t see any of that, did you?” Vash asked, blush creeping up his neck.
God, they were so fucking obvious it was embarrassing. “Every single moment. Hungry?”
He shook his head, big blue eyes glancing back at the ocean with the exact amount of yearning he possessed while looking at Wolfwood. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Milly take a picture of them, clustered together on the blanket in various states of sogginess and resisted the urge to frown. They needed a couple of photos with Milly at least. “You guys want ice-cream?” Vash asked out of nowhere. “My treat.”
Meryl regarded him for a moment and relented. “Mint chocolate chip.”
“Strawberry!” Milly said happily. “How are you going to carry four ice-creams?”
“Don’t worry, big girl,” Wolfwood grinned. “I’m goin’ with him.”
Vash nodded and turned to him, eyebrow arched. “Give me my arm back.” Meryl fought the urge to dissolve into giggles at the semi-serious expression on his face, holding out his one remaining hand for the limb which Nick brandished like a weapon at him. “Hey!” he squawked, flailing his arm to duck. “You can’t hit me with my own arm!”
“Aw, Blondie, you’re no fun.”
“You fiend. You bastard. Quit holding my body parts hostage.”
Milly and Meryl exchanged glances. Hers was long-suffering. Milly’s was elated. Soon, she mouthed, prompting Meryl to roll her eyes. “Hey!” The boys turned to her, apparently having forgotten the fact that they had company. “Ice-cream, remember?”
Wolfwood grumbled as he handed the arm back. With a little grimace, Vash reattached it, flexing his metal fingers with a satisfied little huff. “Alright. We’ll be right back.”
“Don’t get lost,” were Meryl’s parting words.
A weight settled into her lap as Milly rested her head against Meryl’s legs. “Isn’t this nice?” she asked quietly. “It’s a good thing we came today, before the beaches became crowded with school students.”
Meryl frowned to herself at that. The university semester finished before most schools meaning they only had a few weeks before most places became clogged up with children and their parents celebrating the coming of summer. Vash had even picked a good day. The sun was shining so bright, it hurt to look at. The sky was endless blue and the ocean shone sapphire against it. A perfect day for sand and sunshine.
It was idyllic. It was a moment where her frazzled nerves could settle some. No assignments or exams or tests or anything of the sort. No classes to go to, tutors to annoy, deadlines to worry about. There was the warmth of her girlfriend in her lap and the promise of ice-cream later on and Meryl felt okay. Better than okay, even. She felt good.
“It’s really nice,” she said through a sigh. She threaded the fingers of one hand through Milly’s hair while tracing the ridges of her face with the other. The bridge of her nose, her browbone, the soft angle of her jaw, her cheekbones. Were she a weaker woman, she would have peppered every single spot with feather-light kisses. Meryl stopped herself, but only just. “I hope there’ll be more days like this.”
“Of course there will, Meryl!” Milly fixed her with a look that held a promise. Her face was radiant, as fresh as morning dew, with light spearing deep into her irises to set the brown in them on fire. “There’s going to be a million days just like this one.”
Marry me, she almost said. She choked that one down and huffed, picking Milly’s hand up and pressed her lips to the knuckles. “With you around, I don’t doubt it.”
Surrounded by the cooling touch of Milly’s laugh, she reached over toward the picnic basket and peered inside and pulled out the first cold drink she could find. Popping it open with a hiss, she leaned back and took slow, burning sips and watched the waves lap at the sand. There were people she recognized from around university, walking up and down the long stretches of sand and floating in the water.
With her free hand, she reached out and sifted it through the grains surrounding their blanket. Soft and hot, it clung to the crevices in her fingers which were damp with sweat and oil. Sometimes, she dreamed of sand, stretching out in a desert so large she could never comprehend. She dreamed of walking, falling, laughing, a campfire and a sky lit up by a thousand, green lights. They were false and fleeting, however, just flashes of phantom memories in a collection stored in her mind. In seconds, she had already unearthed a seashell. The ridged, bone-white surface gave way to an underside that shone opalescent. With the quirk of her lips, Meryl held it over Milly’s eyes. “For you, my love.”
“Oh! You shouldn’t have!” Milly pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of her eyes before taking the shell with a great amount of gusto. “I shall treasure it forever.”
Meryl snorted at that. She could spot at least five similar shells from here alone. It wasn’t as if this beach was void of beauty at all. In fact, it was practically teeming with pretty things, so much so that many of them blurred into the background. “Mhm. How long do you think it takes to get ice-cream?”
“Are you worried, Meryl?”
She bit her lip. Vash was a grown man, of course, whip-smart in spite of first impressions and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But, Meryl swore to whatever was watching that he was a magnet for trouble. The first day they met, Vash had slammed into her in the hallways and while she had escaped without a single scratch, he had managed to bruise his hip so badly he was limping for the rest of the day. Whatever danger presented itself in any situation would find some way to attach itself to Vash’s lanky limbs and drag him down into the dust.
Blowing out a breath that disturbed her fringe, she smiled with a shake of her head. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He has Wolfwood with him.” Meryl’s eyes wandered and locked in on two figures, one red and one black. She could feel her face relax in real time. “I think I see them right now. No missing limbs. Aside from…ugh, you get the idea.”
Milly chuckled and sat up to greet the boys, taking her ice-cream with great relish. “Sorry we took so long,” Vash said sheepishly, taking a bite of his. It made Meryl cringe and look away, her own teeth tingling. “There was a line.”
“Vash got indecisive right as we got to the front,” Wolfwood muttered without any real heat. “Blame him.”
“Hey!” Vash squawked. He raised his foot, as if to kick sand in Wolfwood’s face before he stopped and thought better of it. Gazing out toward the rest of the beach, Meryl watched his eyes snag on a game of volleyball being played by numerous people. “Hey, Milly?”
“Hm?”
“You up for a game?”
A slow, terrifying grin spread across Milly’s face. She got like this only when Vash was around to egg her on because Lord knows Meryl wasn’t stupid enough to do it herself. “Always.”
He reached out for her and took her hand. “I’m stealing your girl, Meryl. Let’s go!”
“Mills, your ice-cream,” Meryl called. She promptly shut up as she watched Milly stuff the entire thing into her mouth, Vash unhinging his fucking jaw to do something similar. Wolfwood whistled and she turned to glare at him in disgust. The look he shot her was probably his version of innocence.
They watched together as Vash befriended the people playing volleyball. To neither of their surprise, Milly and Vash took up opposing sides. “My bet’s on big girl,” Wolfwood said conversationally.
“In volleyball?”
He scoffed. “Have you seen her pitches? She could kill someone dead with that arm.”
“You don’t throw in volleyball,” Meryl argued. “Vash is more accurate. And he’s faster than anyone I know.”
“Uh huh.” Wolfwood, having finally finished his treat, flicked out a cigarette, prompting Meryl to shift away just a little. She loved him well enough but she did not want to be the recipient of second hand smoke, thank you very much, though he was getting better. Wolfwood smoked less and less these days, Vash’s incessant needling to blame. They were good for each other like that. “What’ll your lovin’ girlfriend say when she hears the love of her life’s betting against her?” he mumbled through the first puff.
“Same thing your boyfriend’ll say when he finds out you betrayed him first.”
She drowned out his spluttering, turning her focus toward the game with a faint smile. Denial was a terrible look on both of them. Meryl sighed and leaned forward, watching the muscles in Milly’s arms flex and ripple as she started spiking the ball with more and more ferocity. Her hair shone brassy in the light, her eyes wide with laughter.
When she chanced a glance toward her companion, she found him in a similar state, staring directly at Vash’s back. Meryl snorted. They weren’t even subtle about it.
The next sequence of events happened so quickly, Meryl almost missed it. Vash tossed the ball over in an almost perfect serve and darted forward, prepared for one of Milly’s spikes. Milly, apparently having predicted this, hit the ball so it would land a few feet away.
Instead of taking the loss gracefully or trusting any of his teammates, Vash did the Vash thing and dove, arms outstretched, lanky body flailing about like some weird, demented starfish. However, he miscalculated and the ball, with about sixty billion Newtons of force, slammed directly into the side of his head instead of his fists.
Wolfwood was up before Meryl could even process what she had just seen, taking off in a dead sprint. A moment later, she clambered to her feet as well, shoving past bewildered players to skid to a stop next to Vash.
“You idiot,” Wolfwood hissed, already laying it on thick. She could hear the note of panic behind the frustration as he flipped Vash onto his back and peered into his eyes, slightly foggy. “I don’t think you have a concussion.”
“’M fine,” he mumbled, moving his head sluggishly to look around. “Milly? Where’s Milly?”
“Right here!” Milly had ducked under the net and hovered, hands fretting. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise—”
“Not your fault,” Vash said, all too grumpy and ready to take the blame himself. For once, Meryl agreed.
“Alright. That’s enough volleyball for one day. Come on. No complaining,” she added quickly, the moment Vash began to open his mouth.
He worked his jaw, pouting at her but allowed Wolfwood to hoist him to his feet as he thanked and apologised profusely to the rest of the players, all looking on in mixed befuddlement and amusement. Without much trouble, they got Vash situated under the umbrella where Meryl made him hold a cold can of soft drink to his temple and gave him a sandwich.
He took tiny nibbles and the remaining tension in Meryl’s shoulders melted away. “Can’t leave you alone for more than two seconds, huh?” she teased.
Vash laughed sheepishly. “I’m okay, I swear.”
“If you’re concussed—”
“I’m not!”
“—we’re takin’ you to the hospital,” Wolfwood finished.
Vash’s expression betrayed a flicker of fear before it smoothed over into a pout. “I’m not concussed! I can prove it to you.”
“No!”
Milly’s cackles rang loud over their voices. Meryl’s heart felt full.
As it turned out, Vash did not have a concussion but, by the time they had dropped the boys back off at their apartment, he did have a pretty nasty bruise over the side of his face.
“Nai’s gonna fucking kill us,” were Wolfwood’s parting words.
Meryl watched Vash and Milly excitedly compare photos and videos they had each taken of one another, half of Vash’s face obscured with the over-sized ice pack Wolfwood had dug out of the freezer. She sighed. “Agreed.”
Notes:
just to clarify, vash in the six hours his friends were asleep, put together an entire picnic with stuff he found in milly and meryl’s cabinets as well as stuff he got with several trips to the supermarket. he did not sleep
Chapter 2: let me wrap my teeth around the world
Summary:
“Vash isn’t eating.”
Nai went quiet. “How long?”
Notes:
allusions to the dreaded eating disorder vash has during tristamp and wolfwood’s weird way of dealing with it
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wolfwood had a thing he liked to call his Bullshit Detector.
It had developed early. Growing up as he did, surrounded by children tossed around in a system that didn’t give a shit about any of them, he adapted quickly, able to read the expressions and body language of the adults and kids around him with relative accuracy. Was he always right? No. Miss Melanie had an air to her that was utterly unknowable and it freaked him the fuck out sometimes but people like Vash were easy.
Vash liked to think he was slick. And to some, the excited puppy look he wore might actually work but Wolfwood knew better. He knew when Vash was hiding something, big or small. He could pick apart his face, the crease between his eyes when he grew overwhelmed or the purse of his lips when he was about to cry. Wolfwood knew it all.
So, naturally, it pissed him the fuck off when Vash felt as if he could successfully hide his issues away from him when they lived in the same goddamn apartment.
The semester had started up again. Summer had been good, a nice break from the endless study but their final year had begun so it was time to lock the fuck in and get this done. Wolfwood emerged from his bedroom in a rumpled shirt and baggy shorts, massaging his temples and stumbling blindly over to where he could smell coffee.
Vash stood behind the counter and gave him a thousand-kilowatt smile as Wolfwood wrapped his hands around a blissfully hot mug. “Morning!” he said brightly. “I have a lecture in an hour and I probably won’t be back until late.”
Ugh. So apologetic for seven in the morning.
The smell of eggs hit him. Wolfwood stared down uncomprehendingly at the plate of omlettes that appeared before him. They looked tantalising. He squinted as his brain drew up the connections while taking its sweet fucking time. “Where’s yours?” he got out gruffly. And when did you sleep? When Wolfwood got home the previous day, Vash was still studying, claiming to already have eaten, and hadn’t slept until long after Wolfwood’s eyes closed.
Vash’s hand travelled to his neck. He wondered if there was a magnet in each, if they were attracted to each other. “I ate already.”
Frowning, Wolfwood turned to stare at the bare sink and drying rack. “Did you?”
“Aw, come on! I clean my dishes!”
He brandished his fork at him, narrowly missing snagging the tongs on Vash’s stupidly bright jacket. God, it was barely autumn and the bastard had the gall to dress up like he was freezing his ass off. “You fuckin’ better have. Where’re you goin’ for lunch?”
Wolfwood could practically see the cogs turning in Vash’s brain as he came up with a lie. “My classes are all clustered together today so I don’t really have time to go off-campus and eat.”
“’S fine. We don’t have to eat off-campus.”
It was Vash’s turn to narrow his eyes at Wolfwood. “You hate the university food court.”
And yeah, Wolfwood did. That shit wasn’t edible nor was it seasoned properly but it was still food. And Vash, tricky bastard he was, was trying to change the fucking subject as if Wolfwood was an idiot. So he shrugged. “Not a baby. I’ll make do.”
“Oh. Well, uh, my only break is at twelve so it’s fine if you can’t make it. I have stuff to do any—”
“I’ll make it,” he interrupted. “Meet at the Hub. By the ping-pong table.”
Vash deflated slightly before he plastered that grin back onto his face. “Can’t wait!” He glanced at the clock and his eyes widened comically as he darted around Wolfwood and grabbed his laptop bag. “Alright! Talk to you later! Bye!”
He was out the door before Wolfwood had a chance to say anything. Fuck. He had a class in two hours he could not wag, even if he wanted to and, to top it all off, this was a situation in which Nai would have to be called. And while Wolfwood loved talking to Vash, Nai was another matter entirely.
Dropping his head into his hands, he groaned. “Fuckin’ hell, blondie.”
“Wolfwood,” Nai sneered over the phoneline.
Hackles beginning to rise already, he got out, “Saverem.”
He was waiting for Vash to arrive, though there was a solid half hour before the agreed upon time. Plenty of time to get this unpleasantry over and done with. “Finally decided to move out?”
“Over my dead body,” he retorted. “Finally got that stick outta your ass?”
“Clever. How long did it take you to come up with that one? Three weeks?”
Wolfwood sucked in a long, steady breath. The important part was that Nai had picked up. The important part was that the only thing that could bring the two of them together was worrying over Vash. Their little spats were secondary to the issue at hand here.
“Vash isn’t eating.”
Nai went quiet. “How long?”
The good part about whatever weird relationship they had going on was that Nai didn’t do stupid things like doubt Wolfwood. There were no ‘are you sures’. Only clinical acceptance and a bulldozing quest to fix whatever was wrong.
So Wolfwood said, “He didn’t have breakfast. ‘N when I got home from work last night, he said he already ate. No dishes in the sink,” he added, because Nai understood better than anyone else Vash’s aversion to doing the dishes.
“Do I need to come over?”
A previous version of him would have bristled at the idea of needing help when it came to Vash-related issues. However, Nai and Wolfwood had started to build a sort of grudging respect for one another, enough to put aside their own shit and pull themselves together long enough to get the problem ironed out. So he responded, “Not yet. If he doesn’t eat anything at lunch, I’ll text you.”
Nai hummed. “I don’t recall there being any major anniversaries lately. Maybe it’s his workload?”
“He’s been weird ever since the semester started,” Wolfwood confirmed. “He’s done nothing but shut himself in his room and study. I haven’t been able to get him out.”
“He’s been avoiding me as well.”
Wolfwood grimaced. It was bad enough that Vash felt the need to avoid him, but worse if he was avoiding his own brother. Those two were basically joined at the hip as far as he was concerned. “Whaddya think?”
“Probably stress. Listen, you know he hates the attention but—”
“But I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’ worry your pretty head about it, Knives. I’m practically an expert in making the shithead take care of himself.”
Nai sighed, long and weary and Wolfwood knew it wasn’t directed at him. “Just—don’t fuck this up.”
“I would never,” Wolfwood said with as much gusto as he could summon. Glancing around, he narrowed his eyes at the bright red, lanky pinball headed towards him. “Needle’s comin’ my way. Talk to you later.”
He didn’t give Nai the opportunity to respond, not that he needed to. Discretion was key. Wolfwood didn’t think Vash even knew he had his brother’s contact information. He watched patiently, watched his friend’s face light up with a smile as he spotted Wolfwood in the crowd, hurrying over.
“You’re early,” he said as a greeting.
Vash chuckled, dumping his bag on the table in front of Wolfwood. “Class finished quickly. How was your tutorial?”
Grimacing, he shrugged. “Long. ‘N boring. Yours?”
“Great! Got an assignment due next week though.”
Wolfwood stood, stretching his joints. “On?”
“Oh! Uh, the Siberian Traps.” At Wolfwood’s blank stare, he hurried to continue. “You know! The lava flow that might have caused the Permian-Triassic extinction event?”
“You know I don’t fuckin’ know, blondie.”
Vash laughed, a real belly laugh, at that. “Just checking!” he said, chipper as always. “Who were you talking to?”
“Ah, just Liv. Crybaby misses me or some shit. I should probably visit home soon, shouldn’t I?”
“Good idea! Maybe then, I can get some peace and quiet,” Vash said with a cheeky grin.
Wolfwood, of course, knew better. There was a haggard look to him. He was paler than normal, almost as pale as his brother was on a normal day, and a tiny, almost imperceptible shake in his hands. He was gripping the back of an empty chair tightly, as if it was the only thing holding him up. God, if this fucker passed out now, Wolfwood was going to murder him.
He snatched Vash’s bag off the table and slung it over his shoulder. “Whaddya feel like?”
“Hey! You can’t take that!”
“I can and I will. Alright. Our options are shitty Japanese, shitty Indian, shitty Vietnamese, shitty Indonesian and Subway.”
“Nick, c’mon, you don’t have to eat here! Just go off-campus!”
“’M a big boy, blondie. ‘Sides, you don’t like eating alone. Don’t fuckin’ give me that look, you ain’t slick. Come on. Pick one.”
“Uh.” Vash squinted toward the other side of the Hub, where lines had started to form around the food places. He hesitated, glancing back at Wolfwood with that awful, fake smile plastered onto his face. “The lines look pretty long, honestly, and I had a big breakfast, Nick. I’ll get you a sandwich though.”
Breathing through his nose slowly to ease his frustration, he ground out, “Doesn’t matter if you ate a fuckin’ horse for breakfast. You still needta eat lunch. Come on. Sushi it is.”
He turned and started walking, counting the moments it took for Vash to catch up. It took three seconds longer than normal and his gait was slower, more cautious. Wolfwood slowed down and slung a casual arm around Vash’s shoulders. He wasn’t one for big displays of affection but if the idiot fell over, it would be easier to catch him before he got too hurt.
Herding Vash into the Japanese place, Wolfwood watched him like a hawk as he stared at the options pensively. “Nick, really, it’s okay. I’m not even that hung—”
“Finish that sentence. I dare you.”
Predictably, his mouth clicked shut and he glanced over at the clerk with a bright smile, shuffling over to the counter to select what he wanted and pay. Wolfwood, for good measure, snagged a Gatorade from the fridge before getting some food himself. He could never be too careful with this one.
Wolfwood pointed at two rolls without checking their contents and met Vash, who had claimed a bench outside and was giving awkward looks to people passing by, also looking for seats. He joined him, sitting opposite and opening the little plastic box with its tiny, fish-shaped soy sauce containers. Taking a bite of the roll, he frowned in surprise. Teriyaki beef, apparently. Not bad, either. Maybe he should give campus food the benefit of the doubt more often.
Vash, on the other hand, was picking at his own food, face cradled in one hand with his eyes downcast. “Do you have any other classes today?”
Wolfwood shook his head. “Goin’ home after this. I probably have an assignment to do anyway. You?”
“Oh, well, uh.” He glanced away, nibbling on his lower lip. “I have class in a bit. A lot of classes, actually. Until five. And then study group after that.”
Huh. Shrugging so he remained as calm and relaxed as possible, Wolfwood said through his bite, “When’ll you be back home?”
“Late. Don’t wait up for me, okay? You need the sleep.” He made a show of checking his watch as his eyes went comically wide. He scrambled to stand up, snapping the plastic box closed and stuffing it into his bag with an airy laugh. “I forgot! I needed to ask my tutor something before class! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Vash was off before Wolfwood could finish swallowing his mouthful.
Fucking bastard. Under the table, he texted Nai ‘bring in the big guns’ and was hyperaware of the fact that Vash had not taken a single bite.
In the hours it took Vash to show up at their shared apartment, Wolfwood had been ridiculously productive. An online test done with a score of 90% which was way better than he had been hoping for considering the fact that he did not study for it at all, the dishes put away, the floor vacuumed and mopped, he had cleaned the horrendous upholstery Vash refused to replace because he thought it was pretty and, for good measure, cleaned both of their bathrooms.
Satisfied, he checked the clock and found that it was only seven pm. With a huff, he made his way into the kitchen and got started on broth. It would have been soup but he wasn’t sure if Vash’s stomach would be able to handle even that.
It was an old recipe. While Melanie hadn’t explicitly taught him, he’d picked it up soon enough for the times the winter chill made her finger joints swell up. The perfect broth recipe for getting a fussy kid to calm the hell down and get some nutrients in them. Ideally, it would be served with bread and butter but butter was expensive as shit. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use it on Vash but more that Vash would bitch about the butter being wasted on him.
Ha. As fucking if.
The pot was bubbling away when the doorbell rung and Wolfwood, clad in the stupid, pink apron Vash bought when they moved in together, went to greet whoever it was.
Nai looked him up and down, amusement on his fine features. “Nice apron,” he snarked with no real venom behind it. He held out a brown paper bag which Wolfwood took graciously. “They’re his favourites.”
“Wanna come in? We have leftovers and broth.”
“Thanks, but I already ate. Should I stay?”
He shuffled uncomfortably, the bag crinkling in his hands. “If you want. He might be…”
Nai’s eyes softened. They always did with his brother, who seemed like the only person that could break through his tough exterior. Wolfwood would know. Vash had done the same to him, after all. “I understand. Call me if anything happens.”
“Yessir. See ya.”
With that, Wolfwood went back to waiting with the bag of donuts stored on top of the fridge where they would stay a little warm at least. Plucking his phone from his pocket, turning off the gas stove, he sat down at the kitchen island and resolved to wait as long as it took.
Vash let himself in at around ten pm.
He looked exhausted, as if he’d been running himself into the ground for at least a few months. That was to be expected however. He dropped his bag onto the couch and rubbed his eyes, yawning wide as he peered around the room and caught sight of Wolfwood, still in the same spot.
Vash froze and then forced out a laugh. “Wh-what’re you doing up? Don’t tell me you’re stress-baking again.”
Wolfwood smiled as sweetly as he could manage. “Siddown. I made broth.”
“Stress cooking?”
He shrugged lightheartedly, stepping onto the floor and stretching his shoulders. “How was study group? Get much done?”
“Enough! I’m halfway through my assignment!”
Wolfwood waved his hand about, brow creasing as he mumbled. “The fucking-the one about the Serbian flats?”
Vash barked out a laugh, one that shook his entire frame dangerously. “Siberian Traps, Nick,” he corrected in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “I think I can get the rest done tonight if I’m smart about it.”
“Ain’t it due next week, blondie?”
Pouting, he pointed out, “It never hurts to be ahead, Nick.”
“Uh huh. Go wash your hands. I’ll pour you a bowl. It’s chicken.” With any luck, a full stomach would be more than enough to rock Vash into dreamland. Wolfwood wasn’t exactly above unethical means but he really didn’t want to have to drug his best friend into sleeping.
“Oh!” The discomfort was back, radiating off of his face as clearly as day. “I’d—I mean, thank you for cooking and I’ll definitely take a bowl later but I’ve still got work to do.”
Fuck him. Fuck him. He should have let Nai stay. At least then, there would be someone to wrangle this fucking dumbass into not killing himself. “Just did work,” he got out, absolutely seething. Vash, perhaps sensing his ire, began to shrink in on himself. “Sit. Down.” He reached for the top of the fridge and grabbed the paper bag, shaking it slightly. “I got you donuts.”
Well. Nai got him donuts but what Vash didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
Wolfwood could see the gears turning in that thick skull of his. Still so pale, still trembling so much, he shook his head in a valiant effort to refuse what he so desperately and very obviously wanted. “Wolfwood,” he mumbled reproachfully. “Seriously, it’s okay. Just drop it.”
And the thing about Wolfwood’s Bullshit Detector was that he never missed. Especially when it came to the blond idiot, to people Wolfwood genuinely could love. He saw it before it happened, the step forward he took as his knees buckled, the panic in those blue eyes that was quickly overshadowed by hollowness as his face made a beeline for the tiles.
He didn’t think. Only moved, so fast it made him dizzy as he wrapped his arms around Vash’s waist and held him up to the best of his ability. About sixty-five kilos of dumbass went utterly boneless against his body, which sucked because Wolfwood’s knees were definitely going to bruise tomorrow considering how hard he hit the ground. “Fuck. Fuck!” he snarled at no one in particular. “Just fine, huh?”
Weakly, a shaking hand scrabbled at the back of his shirt and it was Wolfwood’s cue to maneuver the two of them towards the sofa which was, miraculously, just a step away. He dumped Vash into the cushions, managing to extricate himself from the grip before he fell on top of him. Didn’t need any broken bones on the list of terrible things now, did they?
“Sorry,” came the quiet mumble. “I’m sorry.” Vash curled a pale hand over his face, bony fingers digging into his cheeks. “I don’t—I thought I was getting better.”
Fuck. The anger seeped away slowly, a puddle of water in the desert. “Goddamn it, blondie,” he sighed. Vash flinched and pressed his face deeper into the cushions, tucking his feet underneath him as if getting as small as possible would be enough to hide away from Wolfwood. It did funny things to his heart, seeing him like this, as angry as he was. “You wanna try and explain?”
There was a long silence, long enough for Wolfwood to know that Vash wouldn’t start talking for a while. So he left. Went into the kitchen and grabbed a tall glass of water as well as a bowl of lukewarm broth. He debated the merits of heating it up but Wolfwood did not want to leave Vash longer than strictly necessary, lest he try to run or sleep before he could get some food into him.
Vash was still where he left him which was a relief. Setting the bowl and glass down on the coffee table, he took a seat next to him, hands clasped between his knees. “Gonna hafta eat at some point, blondie. You realise that, right? Not letting you leave us that easy.”
Big, blue eyes lifted slightly to regard him, red-rimmed and watery. “Mhm.”
“’N the broth is real good. Miss Melanie’s recipe,” he continued. “And I’ll call Nai if I have to. You know what it’s like when we talk.”
It teased a quiet chuckle from Vash. Wolfwood smiled faintly to himself. “Did Miss Melanie make it for you when you got sick?”
“Oh, yeah. All the fuckin’ time. I was not a healthy kid. When I wasn’t breaking bones or falling out of trees, I was feverish and delirious.”
Slowly, Vash uncoiled, reaching with quivering hands for the broth which he cradled to his chest, setting in his lap carefully. Wolfwood watched like a hawk, ready to snatch it away before he spilled if over himself if need be. He stirred it at first, a faraway look in his eye before he blurted out, “D’you think Rem’d be proud of me?”
Oh. Yeesh.
The accident wasn’t something Wolfwood enjoyed prodding at. In the span of about five, miserable seconds, Vash went from a regular sixteen-year-old learning how to drive with his mother to a sixteen-year-old kid with no left arm or mother to be found. It all transpired a few years before he ever met Wolfwood, but the shit he’d heard from Nai about that time sounded like a fucking nightmare.
“Well—”
“Sorry.” Vash ducked his head in shame, flush dusting over his thinning cheeks. “It’s stupid. You don’t have to answer that.”
“Shuddup. Give-just give me a second, alright?”
Clearing his throat before Vash could retreat again, he steeled himself. He’d never been good at this part, the comforting because Vash was not a child and had real, adult feelings about things. Those feelings had culminated in whatever the fuck this situation was and Wolfwood was severely out of his depth.
“Vash, you dumbass,” he said and yikes, already off to a terrible start but he ploughed on regardless, “of fucking course she’d be proud of you. I don’t even know her and I know she’d be happy with who you grew up to be. I dunno who put this idea in your head that you’re—” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “inadequate, but they’re wrong, blondie. They’re fuckin’ wrong. And fuck you, also.” Wolfwood rounded on Vash, prodding at him with his index finger. “Fuck you for putting yourself through that. You’re a dipshit and you’re on laundry duty for a month.”
And there was that smile, the real one Wolfwood loved so much. Unsure and broken, heralded by the tears he refused to shed, but by God it was something. “Okay. Thanks, Nick.” He looked like he wanted to say more, wanted to debate the topic of his own self-worth a little longer, as if Wolfwood could ever be convinced into just letting the bastard starve to death based on principle alone. But he left it alone and Wolfwood stopped pushing. Vash looked at him through his lashes timidly. “Are you angry with me?”
Angry? He was fucking livid. There was this incredible, selfless, stupid fucking idiot that didn’t see the point in taking care of himself. Wolfwood could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve Vash but fuck if Vash cared or knew that. He ground his teeth together. “I’m whooping your ass later. Eat.”
“I’m so—”
“Don’t even. Now gimme your review. Needta call Melanie to brag. She says this stuff’s basically like magic and I wanna see if she’s right.”
Vash still hesitated, giving the spoonful he picked up a tentative sniff before it entered his mouth. Almost immediately, his expression brightened and he nodded enthusiastically as he swallowed, body almost humming with delight.
And Wolfwood knew, in his heart of hearts, that Vash would only make it through half of the bowl before giving up. This shit was an uphill battle, as much as he hated it. But hey, it’s what he signed up for when the weird guy in first year chemistry leaned over the table, goggles hanging off his nose, and begged him for help with his titrations.
Silently, he pulled out his phone and thumbed through his contacts before landing on Nai.
operation was successful
ill try and get him to stay home tomorrow so you should come over
Thank you, Wolfwood
Notes:
writing bigolas dickolas nicholas d(ead) wolfwood was a treat. expect to see more!
me: yeah this isn’t gonna be like SUPER long or anything. maybe 10k words if i’m lucky
me, halfway through this chapter: fuck
Chapter 3: crude and proud creatures baying
Summary:
“What was that about?” Wolfwood nodded at the posse of men, now clumped together as one leather amalgamation on the other side of the establishment. “They bother you or something?”
“Oh, no!” Vash scratched his cheek, staring down at his drink. “He was interested in Meryl, is all. I told him you were taken!” he added quickly. “I just—I mean, I’ve never had to explain what a lesbian was to anyone so that was weird. I don’t think he gets it still.”
Notes:
in which everyone chooses the goddamn bear
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wolfwood meandered back into the living room after the phone call, shoulders hunched around his ears. He should have seen it coming honestly, given how he was often either forgetting to call home or finding himself too busy to talk at all. Melanie had given him the verbal thrashing of a lifetime before telling him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t drive his ass over the state border and visit them in person, she would appear in his mirror and strangle him.
Of course, he had agreed to leave as soon as possible. The two-week semester break was coming up, a perfect opportunity to go back and stay a little while.
Vash, apparently having known exactly what kind of conversation had transpired since Wolfwood had left the room, gave him an impish grin. “Was it bad?”
“You have no fuckin’ idea,” he grumbled back. Slumping next to Vash on the sofa, he ran a rough hand over his face. “I’m going back over the break. You’ll be fine on your own, right?”
A bunched up napkin hit Wolfwood in the face a second later. He squawked, blinking to reorient himself. “I’m not a baby, Nick! Go visit your damn family and take pictures for me.” Vash leaned forward, making Wolfwood’s heart rachet up helplessly. “This is a threat. If I don’t see pictures, I’m kicking you out.”
“Good luck with that,” he got out as Vash leaned away, absently nibbling on a fry. “You think you can wrangle the others for a night out before I go? Meryl’ll get on my ass for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“Oh? And am I the only one able to organise group hangouts, hm? Last I checked, you’re also a member of the group chat.” Vash tilted his head at him, the edges of his fringe flopping into his eyes. Wolfwood glared at him long enough to make him wilt. “Yeah, I’ll get on it,” he mumbled, fishing out his phone from his pocket.
Wolfwood resumed the movie, a sci-fi action flick Vash had insisted on based on a recommendation from some guy in his evolution class and watched his phone, sat face-up on the coffee table, begin to light up as the notifications rolled in. “What’s the verdict, blondie?” he asked, eyes closing.
“There’s a bar close by that Meryl’s always wanted to check out. Oh! They have eight-dollar cocktails on Wednesdays!”
“Thank fuck. Yeah, sounds good.” Stifling a yawn behind his teeth, Wolfwood grabbed blindly for one of the many throws Vash had dug out in preparation for the winter, pulling it over his legs. “Ugh, what’s even happening anymore?” he complained, squinting at the TV screen.
Vash laughed, leaning over to steal some of the blanket space. He always did this in spite of the hundred fucking throws he had around the living room at any given time. “You’re such an old man now. What, can’t handle anything the youngsters watch anymore?”
“I’m younger than you!” Wolfwood barked, obligingly shuffling over to give Vash more space. He pretended not to flush as Vash curled up, leaning against Wolfwood’s shoulder without a care in the world, apparently. The bastard had no idea of the affect he could have. “This is the last fuckin’ time we’re taking any recommendations from your friends.”
Vash frowned. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you didn’t like Dune.”
“What kinda fuckin’ film is set in the desert, blondie? And fuck those worms, by the way.” He shuddered, shifting to properly pull the blanket over the both of them. “Creepy bastards. Too many teeth.”
“Lotsa films are set in the desert!” Vash shot back, just shy of indignant. “What kind of question is that? I can’t believe that Nicholas D Wolfwood draws the line at sand.”
“Thin fucking ice, needle.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Look! I think the—the main guy’s about to kiss the—her.”
“You aren’t paying attention either, are you?”
“Shut!”
The bar was nice enough, Wolfwood supposed. On the knife’s edge between seedy and vintage, with a wholeass gramophone playing music he’d never heard before. High chairs were clustered around massive barrels used as tabletops, cushy armchairs were perched next to the lit fireplace (the place had a fucking chimney) and huddled against the dark, paneled walls were booths with leather seats. It was nice in a way, intimate with gentle lighting. The kind of place you’d go to for a date.
Wolfwood, instead of enjoying himself, was in a staring competition with Nai.
Vash sat between them, glancing at each of them nervously. “If you guys cause a scene, I’m changing the locks and putting black dye in your shampoo,” he warned, a threat apiece. “Just because I don’t believe in violence doesn’t mean I’m not above making your lives miserable.”
“It’s my going away get-together,” Wolfwood rumbled. “Why’s he gotta be here?”
“Because I invited him,” Vash said primly. “And you’re just gonna have to deal with that.”
Nai grinned. “Yeah, Wolfwood. Just gonna have to deal with it.”
“Be nice!”
Exposure therapy. He was almost sure of it. While Nai and Wolfwood could get their shit together in times of duress, hanging out casually became a much more difficult ordeal when they didn’t have a joint goal in mind. Nai got weird about his friendship with Vash and then Wolfwood would get defensive and it would end ugly.
But, unfortunately, Milly and Meryl liked him well enough. Speaking of— “Where are the girls?”
“Oh!” Vash’s head swivelled, fixating on the bar where Milly was in deep conversation with the bartender and Meryl was at her side, looking about as comfortable as she did in most social situations, which was to say not at all. “I’ll go get them. Anyone want anything?”
A gun. “Whiskey,” Wolfwood said.
“You just drank one,” Nai pointed out imperiously.
He could feel his hackles rise already. “Yeah, and? Not like I’m driving myself home anyway. Back the fuck off.”
“Legato, please don’t let them kill each other,” Vash implored, getting up and drawing his jacket around his shoulders even tighter. “I really don’t wanna be kicked out.”
Legato, with a faint smile, saluted him and went back to sipping his cocktail monstrosity or whatever the fuck it was that he ordered.
Wolfwood, with nothing better to do, leaned against his hand and stared at Vash’s retreating back as he slunk through the scant number of patrons milling about. A couple of people glanced at him but that was really the affect he had. He was a head-turner. It was when Vash got halfway to the girls that things grew a little more interesting.
A man stopped him, flanked by a couple of others in dark leathers. It looked like they were bikers or something without any of the grit, clean shaven faces scrubbed fresh and new. Even their clothes looked designer with artful tears and rips where it would look good. Almost immediately, their entire aura set Wolfwood’s teeth on edge.
Vash spoke to them. A few times, his smile faltered as he glanced back at Milly and Meryl. He was explaining something, judging by the way he was moving his arms. Vash had always been more animated than most. There was almost an undercurrent of desperation too and he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking anxiously back at the bar.
Wolfwood met Nai’s gaze almost immediately, eyebrow quirked. Nai shook his head but continued to stare at the interaction.
When Vash did pull away from the conversation, Wolfwood’s shoulders sank and he leaned back against the leather seats, watching Vash charm the bartender and pull Meryl into his side comfortably with an arm slung around her neck. She went without resistance, surprisingly enough, although she’d always been a bit of a lightweight.
He brought drinks over with the girls in tow and his smile only looked a little forced. “Sorry for the wait! Here.”
“What was that about?” Wolfwood nodded at the posse of men, now clumped together as one leather amalgamation on the other side of the establishment. “They bother you or something?”
“Oh, no!” He scratched his cheek, staring down at his drink. “He was interested in Meryl, is all. I told him you were taken!” he added quickly. “I just—I mean, I’ve never had to explain what a lesbian was to anyone so that was weird. I don’t think he gets it still.”
“Huh.” Wolfwood needed to keep an eye on them then. Bad things happened when horny men under the influence of alcohol were involved.
Meryl waved it off, cheeks pink. “I can always count on Vash to defend my honour, at least. Not like you,” she hissed, jabbing a finger into Wolfwood’s chest.
The rest of the tension melted away as easy as that as he threw his head back and laughed. “Aw, you flatter me shorty. Love you too.”
“I hope you choke on your fucki—”
Vash slapped a hand over her mouth. She turned furious, betrayed eyes to him and he looked away just as quickly. “Love and peace, remember! It’s our one rule when you drink. Love and peace. Do the sign. Go on.”
Grumpily, scowling the entire way, Meryl reluctantly held up the twisted peace sign Vash had drilled into her years prior in an effort to make her just a little less feral while she drank. He’d tried to do the same to Wolfwood, attempted to tame him somewhat but it never stuck. Really, it was the easiest thing about Vash to make fun of him for.
He removed the hand from her face and, to everyone’s surprise, did not bite. Instead, she grabbed Milly’s drink and took a sip. “Can you guys believe it? Last year.”
“For you, maybe,” Nai snorted. “I’ve still got a long way to go.”
“Aw, but you’ll be the best of us all, won’t you Mister Neurosurgeon?” Wolfwood teased.
“Someone’s got to be the breadwinner for when you all inevitably end up in debt.” Nai swirled his glass with a crooked smile. “Only, what? Ten years left for me? I’ll be in the OR before you know it.”
“Hang in there, buddy.”
“Praying for your sanity.”
Milly giggled. “I’m sure you’ll do great! If anyone can do it, it’s you!”
Raising a glass to her with a grin, he said, “At least someone’s optimistic.”
“Yeah, well that’s big girl for you,” Wolfwood said with no small amount of fondness. “Anyone want anything while I’m gone? Like a souvenir or some shit? No donuts,” he added as Vash opened his mouth. He shut it immediately, looking put out. “They’ll go stale on the ride back. ‘Sides, I might eat ‘em if I get too hungry.”
“You would never.”
“Oh, I fucking would, blondie. If it meant getting back at your dumb ass I would.”
Meryl whacked Wolfwood in the arm, not hard enough to hurt but it did startle him. “Love and peace, remember? If I have to follow the rules, so do you.”
“Oh, sorry, I thought that rule was for the one person who picks fights when she gets drunk.”
She rolled her eyes at him but didn’t do anything to further prove his point, which put Wolfwood out just a little. “Refills, anyone? I could go for another glass.” Standing up, Meryl stretched her arms over her head. Something in her shoulder popped and Vash shuddered at the sound. Wolfwood was convinced that Meryl was a loose bag of bones and joints most of the time.
“Ooo! Can you get me a root beer?” Milly chirped.
A soft smile overtook her face. Her eyes brightened up and Wolfwood turned his gaze to Vash and pretended to gag, receiving a very rare glare from him. “Anything for you, Mills. What about you assholes?”
“Vash did nothing to deserve your ire,” Nai pointed out.
“Vash got nailed in the head by a volleyball a few months ago because he couldn’t stomach losing. Vash is going to be the death of me,” she shot back with equal verve. “Is that a no, then?”
The table nodded assent. Wolfwood tipped his head back into the cushioning of the booth as talk washed over him. One arm, he slung around Vash’s shoulders, the fabric of his jacket clutched loosely in his fingers. The other rested around his room temperature drink. He wished this moment would never end, as stupid as it was.
The change was instant. Vash went rigid next to him and before Wolfwood could sink back into his own body, he was gone, clambering over everyone’s laps and walking with a purpose towards Meryl and the man from earlier, who had cornered her into a conversation.
Wolfwood watched, in both horror and resignation, as Vash tripped over thin fucking air and flailed around for purchase, shoving Meryl back as his metal forearm lashed out and swept the drinks she had just bought to the floor with the crack of shattering glass. He crumpled into the mess, though not before knocking the stranger’s drink out of his hand as well. The bar was quiet for a moment and Vash sat up, blinking dazedly. He turned his face to the stranger and said, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t see where I was going!”
The man, all ire and flame now, yanked Vash to his feet by the collar. “You—you fucking cunt!” he spat, right in his face.
Hands raised placatingly, Vash tried on a timid little smile, hunching over as much as his frame would allow him. “Sorry, sorry!” he squeaked out, trying to lean away as much as he could. “I-next round’s on me?”
Pulling him in close again, the man raised a fist, rumbling, “I’m gonna fucking kill you for that.”
And Vash, the fucking idiot, clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, bracing for a hit.
Wolfwood was moving in the next second, Nai close on his heels. He grabbed the man’s wrist and yanked him off, stepping between him and Vash. “Back the fuck up,” he growled, staring the challenge in the eye. Nai was next to him, just as tall as Vash and much broader in the shoulders.
The man got the hint and stepped back with an ugly looking scowl. They sized each other up. Wolfwood was seriously considering the merits of just taking the fucker’s head and slamming it down on the nearest table until he stopped moving. “Tell your friend to be more fucking careful, yeah?”
“Fuck off,” Wolfwood snarled, bristling.
It did the trick. The man left, going back to his buddies who were all looking on with various levels of interest.
Wolfwood whirled around, mouth open and ready to give Vash the verbal thrashing of a lifetime, worse than Melanie could ever dish out but found that he wasn’t even facing him.
Instead, Vash was hunched over, both hands firmly on Meryl’s shoulders. His voice was quiet, hurried and anxious. “Hey Meryl, can you tell me how you feel? Are you okay?” he asked, a frantic edge bleeding through his words.
She glared up at him and shrugged his hands off. “What did I just say about you being the death of me, hm? What the hell did you do that for?”
Vash laughed, an awkward, pained sounding chuckle. “Oh, I was just coming over to see what you were getting and I—ack!”
Meryl grabbed his jaw in a tight grip, pulling his face close to hers. “You owe me a drink you absolute bastard. I want a negroni.”
Meekly, he bat at her hand and tried for a smile. “You know, Nick bought these really nice bourbons the other day. What do you say to coming back to ours and having a couple of drinks there?”
She considered this, a smile twitching to life on her face. “Acceptable. I do expect olives. And,” she said, lowering her voice to a deadly hiss, “I swear to God, if you ever pull that shit again with anyone, even if they’re bothering me, I will murder you. “
“Lo-love and peace?”
“Hate and war, Saverem. Hate and fucking war.”
As much of a treat as it was to watch little Meryl Stryfe turn into an absolute demon the moment alcohol touched her lips, Wolfwood needed to intervene to talk to needle himself. He pulled her hands off of him and ushered her towards the table, watching her unsteady gait as she collapsed next to Milly. Vash’s gaze followed her until she arrived at the table before turning back, looking sheepish.
“Sorry. I, uh, tripped.”
Nai and Wolfwood exchanged glances, making Vash shrink in on himself. “See, the funny thing is,” Nai said smoothly, an undercurrent of anger bubbling through his words, “I don’t think you did.”
“You wanna tell us what’s going on, blondie? Or should we go and ask that guy who just tried to beat the shit out of you?”
Vash’s gaze flicked between the two of them nervously, occasionally going back to the girls and then to Wolfwood. He was fidgeting, hunching over so that his considerable height was diminished. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to melt into the floorboards. “I—just, promise you won’t freak out immediately.”
“No promises,” Nai said immediately. “Tell us.”
His lips thinning, Vash’s took a quick glance over his shoulder to the Etsy biker looking gang and muttered, “I saw him put something in Meryl’s drink.”
Wolfwood balked. His heart did something funny in his chest, constricting all of a sudden, a motion that left him breathless and on the verge of gasping for air like a fish out of water. He clenched his fists tight to steady himself and glanced at Meryl, drunkenly talking on and on while basking in Milly’s rapt attention and tried to get a fucking grip on himself.
“What?” he forced out.
“I’m telling the truth, I swear!” Vash hissed. “He went over to Meryl and he put some kinda powder in her drink while she wasn’t looking. I had to do something.” He stepped forward, tentatively laying his flesh hand against Wolfwood’s shoulder. “We need to go. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise, but we should go to ours. The girls can stay over.”
Wolfwood was still working his jaw, trying to say something coherent that wasn’t a threat of violence. His gaze drifted to the sons of bitches, clustered around a table. Nai swooped in to save him, murmuring, “Of course. I’ll help you get them home.”
Eyes still fixed on the men, jeering and laughing amongst each other, Wolfwood snapped back into his own mind. “I’m—I’m gonna fucking kill them,” he whispered, starting forward.
Vash’s grip on his shoulder only tightened and he pressed his body impossibly closer. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you what I was doing first!” came the blistering reply. “We can avoid this if we leave now, okay? I already destroyed the evidence. I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I panicked.”
“No! You’re right! You should’ve called the goddamn police before throwing yourself into the middle of danger! Were you even going to defend yourself?” He was making a scene. He knew he was making a scene but he also knew that Vash was a stupid, sacrificial, martyring idiot. “Tell me.”
He looked away, flush colouring his cheeks pink. “Let’s just go home. Please, Nick. Can we please get the girls home?”
Weighing his options, a headache blooming to life behind his eyes, Wolfwood groaned. “Fine. But if they give us any shit in the future, I’m not waitin’ around for you to step in, blondie.”
With relief painted clear across his face, Vash smiled. “Thanks, Nick.”
With a grunt, Wolfwood lay Meryl down in Vash’s bed, tucking her underneath the sheets and placing a bucket next to her. There was an ensuite bathroom but he knew from experience how disorientating it was to wake up with your body trying desperately to rid itself of the poison you drank the previous night. Bucket was easier.
She huffed and immediately curled into a ball, making herself even tinier than she was normally. He had to press his lips together to stop himself from smiling, lest Vash was in the doorway with his phone out. The sheer number of candid photos he had of Wolfwood was absolutely fucking disgusting. That phone needed to be destroyed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked around. Vash loved colour more than most people. He was as bright as the fucking sun most days, overshadowing absolutely everything and everyone in his path. Every available surface in his room was covered with something. Posters on the walls, vinyls hung up right beside them, figurines lining the shelves, desk and windowsill. Wolfwood was about ninety percent sure that, if he could, Vash would have dragged an entire grand piano in here.
Wolfwood, given his whole situation growing up, was spartan in comparison. Nothing to be ashamed of but they were as different as night and day. Some might have even said that their friendship should not work as it did.
He snorted to himself at that. What an idiot he had been to think he could have made it through university by keeping his head low and keeping to himself. What a damn fool.
His eyes traced the photographs that were haphazardly lined up on the bedside tables. There were a few of them posing in fancy suits and dresses at an industry night Wolfwood had practically begged them to tag along to. One of the four of them caught mid-decline on a roller-coaster. Vash and Wolfwood were clutched onto one another, mouths wide in silent screams while Meryl looked like she was on the verge of either crying or passing out. Only Milly looked to be having any sort of fun.
The one photo that caught his attention was one that he stared at every single time he found himself in Vash’s room. A woman was in the center of the frame, her arms outstretched as she was the one taking the picture, her pretty face framed by dark hair. On either side were two, almost identical, blond boys leaning over to kiss her cheeks. Nai’s gaze was locked onto the camera, a hint of disdain and embarrassment in it while Vash looked positively overjoyed even in the side-profile.
The woman, Rem, was laughing. Vash had once told him that this photo was more of a relic, taken when the twins were fourteen. Wolfwood found himself itching for a cigarette all of a sudden, in spite of the late hour.
“They’re so cute, aren’t they?”
He did not flinch or yelp at Milly’s sudden appearance behind him. She looked relaxed in soft clothes, a crinkle around her eyes as she sat by Meryl’s side. Wolfwood recovered enough to gruffly say, “Yeah. Adorable. Sorry. I’ll get outta your hair. G’night.”
Milly watched him go with a smile that touched on sad. Before he crossed the threshold, she said, “Thank you. Tell Vash I said thanks as well. We’re so lucky to have friends like you.”
Flushing slightly, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he talked, he only inclined his head at her and shut the door on his way out.
Right. Needle-noggin. Need to find him and convince him not to take the couch.
“Vash?” he called, stepping into his own room. The bathroom light was on. “You in here? Take my bed, alright? I’ll be up early anyway.”
“What? No. I can’t kick you out of your bed, Nick,” Vash replied, sounding distinctly wrong. His voice was strained and softer than usual, none of the usual vigour accompanying this age-old argument. Almost immediately, Wolfwood was on high alert, stalking to the door. “I’ll take the couch. I really don’t mind.”
“The hell’re you even doing in there, needle?”
A silence stretched between them, broken by Vash’s uncomfortable laugh. “A number two?” he said weakly. There was a pained hiss and honestly, Wolfwood had had enough.
“I’m coming in.”
“Wh-no!”
“Either you back away or you open the door, blondie. Your choice.”
“Nothing’s wrong!”
With a leer, Wolfwood backed up. “Yeah? Well then you won’t mind me seeing for myself then, will you? Five. Four. Thr—”
The door swung open. Golden light washed over Wolfwood’s room and Vash peered at him through his bangs, his metal arm protruding into the darkness. He was in pyjamas, long, fluffy bottoms and a shirt that kept slipping off his shoulder. “Nothing wrong here! Go to sleep, Nick.”
“Arm,” Wolfwood said boredly. Vash extended the prosthetic and he shook his head. “Wrong. Try again. Arm.”
“It’s really not that bad,” Vash mumbled, which in Wolfwood’s mind translated to ‘it hurts but I refuse to let my pain inconvenience others’. He’d gotten good at this over the years. But, obediently, Vash showed off his flesh arm, ducking his head in shame.
“Motherfuc—you got glass in you?”
Little shards of broken glass still stuck out of the skin on his forearm, though the bleeding had stopped somewhat. He must have landed on the shards as he fell in that little performance of his and Vash being Vash, simply didn’t deign to tell anyone about it. “Only a little bit.”
“Have you been trying to get it out with your prosthetic?” He gave a miserable little nod. “Oh my fucking—sit.” Wolfwood jabbed a finger at the bed and pulled out the first aid kit he kept in his room. There was another one in the kitchen because you could never be too careful while living with Vash Saverem. He pulled out the tweezers, antiseptic and gauze.
Reproachfully, Vash said, “You should be quieter. The girls are probably asleep by now.”
“Meryl once slept through an earthquake. Milly naps during horror movies. They’ll be fine.” He sat and, with surgical precision, plucked every single glass shard he could spot out of Vash’s skin. To his credit, Vash was a model patient, not even flinching the entire way even when Wolfwood doused his arm in antiseptic.
Clearing his throat, he spoke quietly. “Thanks, Nick. You didn’t have to do this.”
Snorting, Wolfwood shot back, “’Course I do. It’s just how it is, right?” And then, softer, “Sorry for snappin’ at you earlier. You did a good thing. I probably woulda gotten the cops called on me if I’d tried to handle it.”
With a shake of his head, Vash grinned. Just like that, the remaining friction between them disappeared. “I don’t have the money to bail you out yet.” And then, quieter, “I’m sorry for ruining your night. You deserved a nice send off.”
Wolfwood snorted. “It’s two weeks, blondie. You’re actin’ like I’m going away for a year. ‘Sides, you didn’t ruin shit. Those assholes did.”
“We-we should tell her, right? Like, Meryl should know what nearly happened.” Vash had started to fidget, twisting his metal fingers into the fabric of his pants over and over. “It isn’t fair to keep this from her. But it’s horrible, right? She deserves to feel safe.”
“Blondie,” Wolfwood began gruffly, worming his way around so he could properly face Vash, “she’d feel safer knowing she’s got people to look out for her even while she’s piss-drunk. We’ll tell her tomorrow mornin’ over coffee. Got it?”
“Got it.” With a happy little sigh, he stilled somewhat. “Good thing it didn’t end too badly for anyone.”
“Right, but if you ever try to get punched again I’m kicking your fuckin’ ass. You gave us all a heart attack.”
“Aw! You care about me?”
“Yeah and…fuckin—” Wolfwood felt himself go pink. “Love ‘n’ peace,” he mumbled, almost to the point of incoherence.
Vash lit up like a Christmas tree, slapping a hand over his mouth to contain his glee before immediately wincing. Wolfwood snorted, pinning the gauze in place. “You said it!”
“Uh huh. Don’t get your panties in a twist. Alright. All done. You can put your other arm on my desk. Take whatever side you want.” He stood, gathering the medical supplies and tucking them away into their little box once more. It went back in the side table drawer where it belonged, though when he turned around, Vash hadn’t moved. He frowned. “Hey! I said bedtime. Get cosy or whatever.”
Narrowing his eyes in challenge, Vash crossed his arms. “You forget that I’m taking the couch.”
“No,” Wolfwood countered. “We’re both taking the bed. I’ve just decided. It’s plenty big and we live together. Not weird.” Vash blushed and it made Wolfwood’s scowl more pronounced. “Don’t make it weird, blondie! Get in!”
“God, okay, someone’s needy.”
“Wanna repeat that?”
He didn’t and it ended with Vash’s solid heat pressed against Wolfwood, their backs almost touching. It had been a long time since he’d allowed someone this close. He only hoped he would not grow to regret it.
Notes:
[this action will have consequences]
Chapter 4: i raised a stone to end his pain
Summary:
“You dropped off the face of the earth so we’ve all been worried about you!”
He frowned. “It’s only Saturday?” he slurred, blinking at the digital clock by the bed.
Oh. That wasn’t good at all. “Vash,” Milly said calmly, “it’s Monday."
Notes:
big girl! milly thompson, my fucking wife, is here
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Meryl had a bet.
Milly, although she would never say it out loud, thought it was a little ridiculous. With Nicholas now gone to the next state over for a visit for the two weeks they had off from university and Nai completely wrapped up in placements, Vash was alone and Meryl now wanted to see how long he would go without getting into some form of trouble.
“We take our eyes off him for two seconds, Mills, and he’s already off getting decked by some guy somewhere for something really stupid,” she had said, waving her arms around for emphasis. “Sometimes, I wonder how he’s survived so long.”
And then Meryl’s brow creased as regret crossed her face. The subject had been changed quickly afterwards but the sentiment was all the same. She’d taken the attempted drugging in stride but the morning after, she’d kept her sharp eye on Vash a little longer, had been a little more hesitant to go home after. Still, they invited Vash out because Milly, even with all of the people in her life that loved her, knew what loneliness tasted like and refused to let Vash fall victim to it as well.
Of course, within twenty-four hours of Nicholas’s departure, Vash had immediately signed up for a volunteering course at the local clinic. That part was good. Great, even! Milly was happy that he could find purpose in the little things, even if it was helping kids through vaccinations and doing reception work. On the dinners they invited him over to, he raved on and on about the people he met, the things he’d done that day and they were all too content with listening.
The problem was when Vash went MIA after the first week of break. No contact from him at all on Saturday or Sunday.
Milly left it alone for the meantime. She trusted him to call if things got really bad, though even Meryl, neck-deep in the work she was doing for her internship, had commented on his silence.
It wasn’t until Nicholas rang that Milly decided to go looking.
“Hey,” he had greeted, a bite of worry in his tone. “Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
This felt like a lie. If Nicholas wanted to check in with her and Meryl, he preferred to text. Whatever this was had to be serious. “We’re fine! Oh, how are the kids? Are they good? How’s Miss Melanie? Could you tell her that I tried her lemon cake recipe? It turned out really good.”
“Ah—yeah, I’ll mention it. Uh, I just wanted to ask—fuck me. Ugh.”
A smile overtook her face. Soon, she thought. “Is Vash worrying you?” Meryl perked up from where her head was rested on the table. She’d been picking her bowl of laksa for about ten minutes now, with apparently no intention of actually eating it. Now, she looked almost triumphant. “I can go check on him if you’d like?”
Nicholas sighed. “I hate to do that to you, big girl. It might just be nothing.”
With a laugh, she said warmly, “I was going to go tomorrow anyway! I’ll call you, okay? Now, go have some fun!”
“I’ll bring back whatever you want, I swear.”
When the call ended, Meryl was already standing up, half-finished bowl cooling on the table. “Only a week,” she said with a grin. “I’ll grab the keys.”
“Nope!” Milly placed both hands on her smaller shoulders, steering her back towards the bedroom. “You just got off a full day of work! You’re going to bed, okay? I’ll go see what Vash is doing and I’ll come straight home.”
“But Mills—”
“Now, don’t you want to do the best work you can tomorrow?” Meryl gave a miserable nod, gazing longingly out the window. Milly cupped her face and kissed her forehead. “If anything’s wrong, you’ll the second person to know.” She frowned. “Third. I think Nai should know before you.”
It teased a laugh out of Meryl who pushed her away gently. “Go find our dumbass. And tell him to call more, before his boyfriend has an aneurysm.”
It was all Milly needed to take the keys and leave her house. The drive to Vash and Nicholas’s apartment was a short one and the boys had granted them a spare key in case of emergencies when they had moved in. As far as Milly knew, Nai had a similar key, much to Nicholas’s chagrin.
When she arrived at the door, she did the sensible thing and knocked. “Vash?” she called quietly. “I know it’s a little late but Nicholas called and he’s worried about you.” There was no answer, not immediately. She wondered if he’d already turned in but, then again, Vash was an insomniac at the best of times. It was only nine in the evening and Milly knew him to fall asleep only after 12:37. Never before, if he could help it.
Hovering outside the door after knocking a second time, she made up her mind to simply enter and hope that Vash wouldn’t be too upset at her breaching his privacy. Any more knocking, and she feared she would be thrown out of the apartment complex entirely.
The key slid in and turned and Milly walked into a home that was dark and messy. Her eyes squinted as they adjusted to the low light, coming from a lamp someone had turned on in the corner. She closed the door behind her and locked it, lest a stranger come wandering in. “Vash?” she said again, a little louder now that she was in the house. Carefully, she moved through the mess of blankets still strewn on the floor, as if someone had tossed them aside and forgotten about them.
The living room was empty. She padded into the kitchen and found it utterly pristine. Not a single dish in the dishwasher either. Nothing in the laundry or pantry. Nicholas had once mentioned finding Vash curled up, limbs pressed to his chest, and asleep in the smallest places in the house. It had scared him so bad that he now pre-emptively checked every nook and cranny in the house to ensure no repeat could happen again.
But there was still no Vash to be found.
The door of his bedroom gave way easily. The boys had locks and rarely used them. But Vash’s room was empty too, bed meticulously made. Not a single photo, poster or figurine had been so much as breathed on in the last week or so. A fine layer of dust had settled over his desk, making her frown.
Milly was starting to consider calling the police before she stopped outside of Nicholas’s room. Surely, she thought, as small as the chance was.
It was dark. When she flicked on the switch, her eyes settled on a lump hiding underneath the duvet and Milly felt her entire body relax. “Vash!” she said in a stage-whisper. “You’re here!”
He mumbled something in a voice too hoarse to be healthy. She couldn’t quite catch the words so she edged closer, leaning over the side of the bed for a better look. Bright blue eyes set against a flushed face peeled open, fixating on her and he gave her a weak smile. She realised with a start that there was a strange fog over his vision, as if he was seeing right through her.
Quickly, she laid a hand over his forehead, flinching at the heat radiating off of his skin. “Oh dear,” Milly muttered to herself. “Are you sick, Vash?”
“Hm?” He narrowed his eyes at her, reaching up to rub at them with the palm of his hand. When his gaze focused, they grew wider in surprise. “M-Milly?”
“Mhm!” She sat on the edge of the bed and winced as he struggled to sit up. Vash was swamped in a hoodie that was unmistakably Nicholas’s, too broad in the shoulders for him and far too dark for his particular taste. “You dropped off the face of the earth so we’ve all been worried about you!”
He frowned. “It’s only Saturday?” he slurred, blinking at the digital clock by the bed.
Oh. That wasn’t good at all. “Vash,” Milly said calmly, “it’s Monday. How long were you asleep for?”
“Wh-what?” Alarmed, he shoved the blankets off his body, clenching his jaw as the cold hit him full force. “O-oh no. I was s’pposed to go to the clinic today.”
“That’s okay! We can call them later.” Vash’s arm was visibly shaking and Milly’s hands twitched with the need to pull him into a hug. Instead, she rested a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Did you take any medicine yet?”
He shook his head, hair flopping into his eyes, and hunched over as he scrubbed at his face viciously. “I don’t think so? Sorry. I’ll take something and set an alarm. Shit, where’s my phone.” He shook out the blankets and sighed in relief as it fell onto his lap. The battery was low and there looked to have been about thirty or so missed calls from Nicholas alone.
Milly pondered for a moment. She took in Vash’s sickly complexion, the heat clinging to his body, his sad, teary eyes and cracked lips and made a decision as she clapped her hands together and stood up. “I think it’s been a long time since we’ve had a sleepover, hasn’t it?”
“Wh-huh?”
“Yes! Last time we were all properly together at a sleepover must have been at least two years ago. And Meryl and I sleeping over at your place doesn’t count either!”
Vash yawned into his sleeve. “Does-doesn’t Meryl have that internship thing?”
“Meryl can join us after work. She won’t mind, I promise. Now, do you need help packing?”
She could see him weigh the offer in his mind. The loneliness was getting to him, she knew, considering how his own bedroom remained untouched. And he was so obviously sick that it hurt to see. It would be irresponsible to just leave him alone here and wait for the symptoms to abide. Besides, Milly had plenty of practice taking care of sick relatives. Vash would be no different.
Eventually, he gave her a cautious nod. “I can walk,” he said firmly, despite her not having asked.
Milly knew better, of course, but still got off the bed with a grin. “I know. Where’s your bag?” she asked, watching him clamber shakily to his feet. He swayed in place, ghost white and reedy, taking unsteady little steps to the door. She followed diligently, poised to catch him should he fall. He didn’t, but it was a close thing.
Vash refused to sit down but meandered in the doorways as he instructed her on what exactly to bring and what to leave out. When he disappeared into Nicholas’s room again and came out with a bundle of clothing that definitely wasn’t his, she said nothing, only tucking them away in the duffel bag next to his arm. “We can marathon Disney movies!” she was saying, babbling really, to fill the silence. Vash being this quiet was unnerving but expected. “Oh! And we can finally try that recipe my mother sent me. The one for brownies.”
He nodded assent, not completely there with her. That was okay. Milly was lying more than she would like to. There was no way Vash would be well enough for any activities aside from resting. It was up to her to ensure that he didn’t die because of whatever he’d contracted.
She held his duffel over one shoulder and lead him to the front door, pushing his flip-flops towards him with her shoe. He stared at them, almost uncomprehending, before pulling them over his own feet. They headed out, locking the door on the way.
When Vash held onto her arm once they arrived at the stairs, Milly made sure to go extra slow.
Vash immediately passed out the moment he lay down in Milly’s spare bedroom. It was like watching a light switch turn off. One moment, he was sluggish but animated, talking in quiet little whispers and the next, he was sleeping like the dead.
Meryl wandered in, standing next to Milly who observed with a furrow in her brow. “What’s the verdict?” she asked lowly.
“Flu, I think. He’s definitely burning up. I don’t think he’s eaten anything since Friday and he needs lots of fluids.”
Running a hand through her hair, Meryl let out a short, quiet bark of laughter. “We take our eyes off him for a week…He must’ve caught it from a patient at the clinic.” Her eyes went wide. “Did you—”
“I already called,” Milly confirmed. “They left me some instructions on what to do but they did say if it gets really bad, we’ll have to go to the hospital.”
Meryl sighed. “You’re amazing. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Milly chirped back, smiling. She pressed a kiss to the top of Meryl’s head. “You should go to sleep now. I’m going to try and get Vash to drink something.”
“Try electrolytes. We have a few bottles around.” Meryl twisted her fingers together, a self-soothing habit she’d had since she was small. “You sure you don’t need any help?”
With a smile that was broad and strong and assuring, Milly said, “Of course, I’ll be fine. I’ll wake you up if anything changes for the worst, okay? Vash should be back to normal in a few days.”
“Yeah. Hopefully.”
With Meryl settled, Milly went about digging up medication, plain crackers and a bottle of blue electrolytes. She stared at it resting her hands as she considered calling Nicholas now or later. Maybe when Vash was more lucid, perhaps?
Pulling her phone, she squatted next to the dishwasher and tapped Nicholas’s caller ID. The phone only rang twice and her heart ached for him.
“Hello?”
“Hello!” she said brightly, keeping her voice down to accommodate for the two people still asleep. “I just got back from Vash’s house.”
“He’s okay, right? Idiot probably forgot to charge his phone.”
“Well—”
“Oh, fuck. What the hell did he do this time?”
Shaking her head to stop herself from giggling, Milly said, “It’s just a fever. He’s at our house right now. I told him I wanted to do a sleepover so he came easily.”
Nicholas sighed very loudly on the other end. “I have a thing tomorrow morning Miss Melanie won’t let me skip but if I haul ass, I can get there by Wednesday morning.”
Oh dear. “Nicholas,” she said in the voice she used to calm and soothe, “it’s okay. Vash is our friend too. You should enjoy your holidays. We really don’t mind taking him in for the time being!”
“Milly, I—”
“Nicholas,” she said again, a little sterner.
He was quiet a little while, contemplative. “Promise not to leave me in the dark?”
“I would never.”
“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll call you in the morning, alright? If he passes out too long, just hold a donut under his nose and he should go back to normal.”
Stifling her laughter, Milly hummed. “Thank you for the advice. Goodbye!”
“Bye, big girl.”
Milly, now armed with crackers and something to drink, slid into the guest bedroom and switched on the bedside lamp. Too much light would only worsen the headache she suspected was brewing behind Vash’s eyes.
He blinked awake with a start, staring at her blearily. “Sorry,” he breathed. “Fell asleep.” He eyed the items in Milly’s hands with trepidation but hoisted himself up without her even having to say a word. “’M not hungry,” he informed her.
“That’s okay. Just have as much as you can.”
Vash took sips of the drink, slightly more enthused over it than he was with the crackers. Perhaps because the drink was actually sweet or perhaps because he must have been so horrendously thirsty that Milly had no clue how he was still alive, even. “What’s the verdict, doc?” he asked when the bottle was a third empty, fixing his wandering gaze on her.
Milly pressed the back of her hand against Vash’s head again. Still too warm. Worse than before, even. He allowed it, even leaning in to make it easier, though the entire time there was a guilt that would not leave his face. “You’ll be just fine,” she said confidently. “It’s just a little virus. Here. I have some fever reducers.”
When she shook the tablets into his palm, he took them without hesitation. So far, he was being a model patient even if he looked as tense as a bowstring. Wide, hazy eyes searched the room for invisible intruders and Milly knew what it was like, to feel so helpless and vulnerable but stuck in a place that was unfamiliar.
So she pat his covered knee with a bright smile, even when he squinted over her shoulder towards the dark corner with nothing in it aside from a wall outlet. Stared with those eyes, the bottle in his hands forgotten.
Hastily, she started to talk. “Now, I’m not sure what Nai’s schedule looks like tomorrow but I’m sure we can get him to visit you as well! Oh! And my mama makes this delicious rice porridge recipe for sickness. It’ll fix you right up! Hey, Vash? Tomorrow morning, when you’re a little better, maybe you can go set up base in the living room. It’ll be a little more entertaining. Oh! Did you bring your charger too? Your phone’s nearly dead! Vash?” she prodded gently. All reassurances that she would give Meryl, her siblings, her cousins, her uncles and aunts when they were sick in bed. Milly was as confident as she could be, injected her joy into the words because positivity was the one thing that worked.
Vash wasn’t listening however, gaze completely fixed to the corner of the room. His lips were parted, still dry and cracked, and they were moving making soundless words. She bit back the worry when he whispered, “Nick?”
Resisting the urge to turn and look, because she knew there was no one there, Milly grinned brightly. “Nicholas is back home, remember? He went to visit Miss Melanie! Would you like to talk to him? I’m sure he’d love to hear your voice.”
“N-no. He’s-Nick?” he said again, more urgent. Vash was pressing himself against the headboard and that didn’t seem right at all. Was he afraid? “He-he’s got a—” Vash blinked hard, as if he was trying to scrub whatever he was seeing from his mind and turned back to Milly, lurching forward suddenly. She caught him, of course she did, wrapping her arms around his trembling shoulders and pressing a palm to the back of his head. “He-he’s not-not—I don’t understand.”
“Vash,” she said firmly. The rot’s cooking his brain, is what her papa would’ve said and Milly was inclined to agree. “Can you finish drinking that bottle for me?”
“Milly,” Vash said, strangled and choked, “he’s hurt.” He was fighting now, attempting to extricate himself from her grip even if she wasn’t allowing it. Still, she refused to look behind and see whatever he was looking at. “He’s hurt, he’s hurt, I need to help him.”
Wondering for a second how he came to that conclusion, she ran a hand up and down his spine and thought briefly of the screws holding his body in place before shaking those images out of her brains. “Nicholas? I can call him right now, if you’d like. I promise you that he’s definitely okay.”
It was a good call not to leave him alone. She didn’t want to think of what would have happened had she simply left that apartment without him.
Vash nodded against her shoulder and she pulled back, one hand still cupping the back of his damp neck. His skin seared with heat and it was uncomfortable and worrying at the same time but she shoved those feelings down in place of a gentle smile as she called Nicholas for the second time in that hour.
“Big girl?” he greeted. “Anything wrong?”
“Vash would like to speak to you,” she said, part warning, part reassurance.
Nicholas huffed and Milly heard the strain behind it, as if he was forcing himself to remain light-hearted. “Is he being clingy again?”
“Nick,” Vash breathed, almost a sob. He grabbed the phone and held it to his face, almost reverent. “Hi.”
“You’re not sounding so hot, blondie. Have you been taking care of yourself?”
“You—” Something sparked to life in those eyes because he smiled dully and said, “you think I’m hot?”
“Not what I said at all,” Nicholas said back with none of the usual bite. “When you’re better, I’m gonna kick the shit out of you. Never leave us hanging like that again, you hear me? You get into enough trouble when you’re with us. No more isolation.”
“You’d kick a disabled man?” Vash whined. “I only have one arm.” Milly didn’t miss how hard he was trying to not look into the corner he was so fixated on a moment ago. Residual tears clung to his eyelashes. He was clutching that phone like a lifeline and it hurt Milly’s heart to watch. “Not fair.”
“Yes fair. You better be peachy by the time I get back. I’m keen on keeping my promise.”
“Mhm.” Vash swallowed and it sounded painful. “How-how’s Livio? ‘N Miss Melanie and the kids?”
“Since I left they’ve been thriving. Apparently—ow! What the fuck, Liv?”
“Hey Vash!” said a voice that belonged to Nicholas’s younger brother. “I heard you weren’t feeling so great. Get better soon or Nico’s hair might actually start falling out from stress.”
Vash chuckled. “I will. Don’t bully Nick too hard.”
“No promises.”
“Oh! And Milly’s here too.”
“Hey, Milly!”
She smiled. “Hi, Livio!”
There was a tussle as, presumably, the boys fought over the phone. Nicholas managed to wrestle it free and, with an air of triumph, said, “Alright, it’s probably bedtime for you. Go get some rest. I’ll call tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Vash mumbled, put out but a little happier now. “Night.”
When the phone call ended, he glanced up at Milly. For a moment, she wanted to coo over him. The hoodie was so large on him, utterly drenching him in fabric and his normally carefully styled hair was tousled and sticking up all over the place, spikier than ever. He looked smaller than usual, though perhaps it was the absence of his arm that gave that affect. But she withheld for his sake and patted his cheek. “I’d like you to wake me up if you need anything, okay? No matter how small.”
He nodded. She knew, of course, that it was futile. Vash hated more than anything to be a bother, even at the repeated insistence that he was not. Still, Milly could not be stopped by hook or by crook. She’d find a way to care for him. She would make him better.
Milly woke up to the abject feeling of wrongness.
She’d gone to bed, laying on Meryl’s right side like she usually did. Her girlfriend’s arms were sprawled out over the mattress, pinning Milly down until she managed to pull it off as carefully as she possibly could. The room was dark and rain hammered at the windows they’d drawn tightly shut. Autumnal blasts of wet weather were becoming more and more frequent with the cooling temperature.
Slowly, she slipped out of bed, hyperaware of every motion, every sound she made. The floorboards closer to the legs creaked more but Meryl could sleep through anything if she was tired enough so Milly made little effort to try and conceal her steps.
Creeping out into the hallway, she crossed the corridor and shouldered her way into he second bedroom. Even in the low light of the lamp, the rumpled sheets and duvet told her everything she needed to know: Vash was not here.
Don’t panic, she told herself sternly. Vash was not stupid and he would never go too far, especially in this feverish state no matter how delirious he found himself. Milly stood stock-still in the middle of the room and closed her eyes, listening.
There was a faint hum.
One thing that had always stuck out to her; electricity hummed. The fridge kept up a low and steady sound, a smidge higher than the portable heater Meryl adored so much. The lights had their own frequency and, as much as Milly insisted the noise was there, as tangible as her own hands, Meryl simply could not hear anything. They liked to joke that Milly was part bat.
But the hum, and it was distinctive enough for her to know, came from the bathroom. She followed her feet, keeping a sharp eye out for any suspiciously Vash-shaped lumps on the way. Sure enough, the light was on and the door was closed but not locked. Warmth seeped from the cracks, washing over her face as she peered inside.
The sight was a sad one but relieving all the while. Vash, all six feet of him, was curled up around the toilet looking absolutely miserable. He was pink around the cheeks and ears, watery eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Clumps of blond hair were stuck to his forehead and temple and she hoped he didn’t get any vomit on them for his own sake.
“Oh, Vash,” she whispered, striding towards him.
The moment she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, he seemed to come back to himself somewhat with a flinch. “Sorry!” he gasped. “So-rry.” Tremors wracked his frame, rendering him immobilized.
“Now, why are you apologising, hm?” she said in mock-sternness. “I don’t think you were the one to finish the rest of the coffee last time you were here. That was Nicholas, remember?”
It was enough to tease a smile from him, a tiny, stuttering thing. “Didn’t-didn’t wanna wake you,” he breathed, eyes closing as his cheek came to a rest on the toilet seat.
Milly shuddered internally and swiftly pulled him upright as best she could, squatting beside him. “That’s no matter at all!” she said firmly, hands on both of his shoulders. “Now, do you think you’re done for the moment? I’ll put a bucket next to your bed so you don’t have to go as far next time, okay?”
He huffed. “Hope there isn’t a next time,” Vash mumbled.
Milly flushed the toilet and sat him down on the lowered seat as she went and rummaged through his bag for a toothbrush. Returning to Vash sitting patiently with exhaustion writ across his face, she made it quick and helped him to the sink where he brushed his teeth with his one hand, Milly holding him up with an arm around his waist.
Step by step, they made their way back to the spare bedroom. Vash grew heavier with every second, the heat of his skin seeping through Milly’s sleep clothes and washing over her own flesh. But she had always been resistant to the heat, built against it in fact. It never bothered her at all.
“Easy does it,” she murmured, settling Vash back down. “Stay right here. I have some anti-nausea pills around here somewhere.”
“It won’t stay down,” Vash moaned, sliding down the headboard and pressing his hand flat against his face. “There’s no point.” His fingers slid apart so she could catch a glimpse of shame-filled blue eyes. “I forgot to take my flu shot this year. Nai told me and I still forgot.”
“Oh well,” Milly said with a shrug. “Things happen. Now all we can do is make sure you get better, okay? There’s no point in regretting the past when you’re already in the present, isn’t there? That’s what my Uncle David says.”
A crease appeared between Vash’s brows. “Is this the same uncle that owns a shooting range?”
“Different.”
“Ah.”
“Would you like to try and drink something? You’re probably more dehydrated now that you’ve thrown up.”
Cautiously, his eyes flicked to the half-full bottle of electrolytes and then back to Milly, as if he was weighing his options. He plucked the bottle from the stand and took a few sips which was enough to make Milly break out in a wide grin. “It might just come back up,” he pointed out.
“It’s worth a try. I’ll go get the pills.”
It didn’t surprise her how easy Vash was being. He hated to be a burden and it was something she saw in him, a lesson so deeply entrenched that no one could pry those feelings away from him. It was a source of contention between him and Nicholas at the very least. Vash’s refusal to worry anyone ended up worrying everyone anyway in a strangely ironic twist.
Still. It was good that he was letting himself get taken care of. He was half asleep by the time she returned, pale pills cupped in her hand. “Here,” she whispered, tipping them into his own. He threw them against the back of his throat and chased it with a mouthful of liquid. “Would you like me to stay?”
Vash frowned at her with no real heat behind his expression. “Go spend time with your girlfriend. I won’t die,” he instructed sternly.
Milly clamped down on a laugh and nodded, sweeping out of the room, though not before squeezing his hand before she left.
Somehow, over the course of the night, things got worse.
When Milly managed to poke a thermometer into Vash’s mouth, it read 37.6°C. For a moment, she really did consider bundling him up and taking him to the emergency room but his big, sad eyes washed over her with a silent plea to not, so she relented.
“Vash, if it keeps getting worse, we’ll have to go, okay?” Meryl had already left for the day, though not before digging out every relevant medication they had. The menagerie was currently spread out over the kitchen counter and Milly worried her lip between her teeth as she considered the merits of trial and error.
“’M fine,” he croaked, looking anything but. A faint sheen of sweat covered his brow. Milly wiped it away before laying a cool cloth over it and watched a shiver sweep through Vash’s body at the touch. He’d changed clothes but the sight of one of Nicholas’s oversized shirts dangling over his frame only served to make him look more pathetic according to Meryl who had left soon after making that observation. “Just need t’ sleep.”
Milly sighed through her nose and placed a water bottle on the counter. “I’d like you to drink as much as you can, okay? I’ll try to get your temperature down. Take these.”
Vash stared at her blankly. “Don’t-don’t you have other things to do?” he asked, voice tinged with desperation. “You don’t have to stay.”
With a hum, Milly only smiled faintly. “I’d much rather be here than anywhere else. So would Meryl, honestly, but she can’t miss out on her internship. But she’d like to see you feeling a little better when she comes back tonight. Do you think we can do that?”
There wasn’t really a we when it came to these things but Vash visibly relaxed at the words, as if he was afraid Milly was only staying out of obligation. Sometimes, she really did wonder why he thought such things, why he didn’t thing he deserved simple comforts. “Yeah,” he replied, voice small. “I-I’m hungry now?” As if to herald his words, Vash’s stomach let out a weak gurgle, making him blush to his ears.
“Oh!” Milly clapped her hands together in glee, genuine delight bubbling to life in her stomach. “I’ll make you some toast. Finish that water, okay?”
He hadn’t thrown up since the previous night which she took as a win even if he was steadily getting worse. His eyes had an awful hazy quality to them, and his gaze kept slipping off of her face and landing onto the shadows creeping up the walls. But these things needed to run their course and the fever would eventually bottom out and decrease. The symptoms would fade and this would all be an unpleasant memory. And, she found, even with Vash’s shrunken stomach, he still managed to down an entire slice of toast.
Thump.
Milly shot up from where she had sat on the couch. Vash was supposed to be asleep on the bed and she was supposed to wake him up for lunch in less than an hour. She’d taken the time to go over some of the material for when classes started up the next week and she was halfway through the review when she heard the thudding of a body falling onto the floor.
Either her house was being broken into or Vash was in trouble.
She almost tripped over herself as she ran into the guest room, throwing open the door and finding a bundle of blankets crumpled by the side of the bed. It looked like Vash had tried to get up and walk on his unsteady legs before promptly twisting himself into the blankets and falling.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice pitched high in worry.
Bleary eyes peered at her reproachfully, a touch of fear present within them. “Mhm.”
Milly stalked forward like one would approach a wild animal. There were starts and stops, stutters in her steps and she knelt by him, feeling much larger than normal next to this rumpled, sick man. “What’s wrong, Vash?”
Blinking slowly, he lifted his hand and waved his phone around weakly. “It’s broken. Can you fix it?”
“I’m no tech expert but I’ll do my best. What’s broken, exactly?” She plucked the phone from his waiting hands and paused, staring down at the screen.
Vash only continued talking, as if she wasn’t there at all. “Won’t-won’t let me call her. Can you fix it?” he asked again, meek.
The problem was pretty obvious but Milly knew that this wasn’t something she could fix. How on earth was she going to explain that trying to call a dead woman fifty times wasn’t going to get her to magically rise from the grave and come over? Biting her tongue, she gave Vash a cursory once-over. He was shivering in spite of how warm his skin felt and his eyes were glassy. Something about his expression was vacant. He was barely lucid.
“I—” Pressing her lips together, Milly smiled. “How about we call Nai? I’m sure he’d love to talk to you right now!”
Nai’s contact was right underneath Rem’s in Vash’s favourites folder, and it was decorated with just as many emojis as his mother’s was. “Nai?” Blinking slowly, he nodded, relief crossing over his face. “Okay.”
“Great!” Nai, who had been informed by both Milly and Nicholas about Vash’s condition, picked up surprisingly quickly for a man who was supposed to be working. “Morning, Nai! How are you?”
“Tired,” came the immediate, grumpy sounding answer. “Conrad is trying to kill me, I swear. Bastard won’t leave me alone for more than five minutes. I’m hiding in a broom closet. How is he?”
Milly felt her face contort in a funny way as she tried to pick her words out as carefully as she could. “Well, um, Vash is…he isn’t very lucid right now,” she said slowly. “He’s been trying to call Rem for a while and doesn’t know why her number’s working. Would you like to speak with him?”
Nai made a choking sound on the other end. Milly tuned it out as politely as possible, leaving him alone with his grief because Nai was not the type of person to take pushing extremely well. He composed himself after a few seconds, and she could hear him sucking in deep breaths to calm himself down. “Yeah,” he said shakily. “Yeah, just put him on. I’ll be quick.”
“Take as long as you need.”
When she passed the phone over, Vash brightened somewhat. “Nai! Can you—” He swallowed harshly, wincing at the dryness in his throat. “Can you call Rem? I’m not feeling so great.”
Milly took that as her cue to leave. She leaned over and squeezed Vash’s shoulder before standing up and busying herself with tidying the bed and straightening the many bottles and pill packets that had found themselves on the bedside tables. He heard Vash’s quiet responses, his voice wavering as if he was on the brink of tears and pointedly turned away when she was sure he had actually started crying. Her meddling would not do during a private conversation.
Eventually, she heard a quiet, broken, “Milly?”
She dropped the pillow she was fluffing up and crash landed next to Vash, a smile fixed onto her face. Taking the phone, she said, “Hello! It’s me again.”
“Hey.” Milly ignored how rough Nai’s voice sounded too. “I’ll stop by when I can. I’d take him to mine but…”
“Nai,” she said, very stoutly, “I said this to Nicholas and I’ll say it to you too. I want to do this. This isn’t a burden on me or anything, okay? Vash is my friend and I love him. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.” He laughed dryly. “Thank you. I’ll see you. Take care.”
“You too! Don’t die!”
Vash turned to look at her, eyes watery and red-rimmed and Milly couldn’t help herself, as an instinct in her roared to life. She reached out and cupped his clammy cheek with a hand, brushing a thumb over his drying cheekbones. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbled. “You’re so kind, Milly.”
“Because I love you, silly! Now, I think it’s time for a change of scenery. You’ve been cooped up here for too long.”
He nodded weakly, scrabbling at the edge of the bed as he started to pull himself up. His muscles strained and locked and the tension in his face compounded his stress. “Give-give me a second.”
Milly did not, in fact, give him a second. She took it all in and then scooped him up unceremoniously, one arm hooked underneath his knees while the other was braced against his back. Vash yelped and instinctively locked his own arm around her neck, clinging on as tightly as he could without choking her. “Comfortable?”
“What-what are you doing?”
“Taking you to the living room,” she said breezily, shaking off the blankets still wound around his foot. “Would you like your prosthetic?”
“I—uh, no thank you.” He was still a little shocked and squirmed slightly before settling down as she carried him easily out of the room. It wasn’t difficult. Vash had always been on the lighter side, much to everyone’s collective chagrin.
She set him down in his usual spot, the one he loved to curl up in whenever he and Nicholas came over. It was in the corner of the sofa, where the pillows met and created a slight dent that was Vash-shaped and comfortable enough to lie in. For good measure, Milly pulled a blanket over his shoulders and stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Much better. Okay. You can pick the movie and we can eat together.”
Alarm crossed his face. “Meryl hates it when we eat on the couch,” Vash pointed out, panic leeching into his tone.
“Meryl will forgive us this one time. Soup?”
“Please.” Then, almost shyly, he said, “I owe you one.”
Milly grinned and shook her head. “Friends, remember? Best friends in every life.”
By the time Meryl came back, Vash was passed out with the TV quietly playing Tangled. Milly opened her eyes to a gentle kiss on her cheek and, when she looked into Meryl’s eyes, found herself feeling warm all over.
There wasn’t any way she could have described her relationship. Some of her family thought she had rushed into it but Milly could not explain the rush of emotion she felt upon setting her eyes on Meryl for the first time. Could not explain the way she felt as if she was coming home during that very first conversation. They had clicked immediately. When Vash and Nicholas came along, it felt as if Milly’s life was complete.
“He’ll be okay, right?” she asked, toeing off her shoes and slipping into Milly’s side. They leaned against each other, sharing heat.
Milly said, “He’ll be just fine.” And that was that.
Notes:
not SUPER happy with this chapter but ehhh. it’s whatever. anyway, milly come home the kids miss you
Chapter 5: i aim true and the ground’s where i go
Summary:
Vash bit his lip. “Will this—will, um, will this be covered by insurance?”
Nai wanted to laugh. He really, really, wanted to laugh. “That’s your first concern? Not the bone sticking out of your arm but whether or not we’re insured?”
Notes:
nai’s chapter! he and vash could’ve been such a powerful twin duo if nai wasn’t also an absolute rat bastard of a man in canon
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In hindsight, it was all so fucking stupid.
Vash, with nothing better to do and no one better to bother apparently, decided to become Nai’s own personal shadow, trailing after him while he cooked like an aimless puppy. He yammered on as he did, talking about everything and nothing at all. Mostly about Wolfwood, for whatever reason. God, if only he could shut up about Wolfwood.
“…And Nick won’t even give Dune two a chance, Nai! Can you believe it? It’s like he has some weird aversion to every movie set in the desert. But Meryl wants to go with Milly on a date and you said you’re busy when it comes out so I have no one to go with!”
Nai stared down at the pasta sauce, cursing it for not setting itself on fire and freeing him from this hell. He loved his brother but when he got mopey, he got mopey. “Just go watch a different movie with him. Doesn’t have to be Dune two.”
“Yeah but it’s Dune two, electric boogaloo, y’know?”
“…What?”
“Anyway, I’ve been trying to therapise Nick into telling me why he hates sand so much and he tells me he doesn’t know which is complete bull, by the way, but he never keeps things from me so I can’t imagine why he’d be embarrassed to just let it out.” The words ended in a whine. Nai sighed through his nose.
Rem had once warned them about girl trouble. Boy trouble, as it turned out, was far worse.
“I think that you’ve been spending too much time with him.” The sauce was not thickening. Why the hell was it not thickening? Nai glared extra hard at it in an effort to scare it into curdling somewhat and was somewhat miffed that his efforts went ignored. “Move back in with me for the next semester.”
Vash snorted even though Nai definitely wasn’t joking. “Nice one, Nai. Do you have any advice for your poor baby brother?”
“We’re twins,” was the flat reply.
“As I seem to recall, you’re approximately thirteen minutes older.”
Nai knew, of course, why Vash would never move back in. It was the same reason why Nai still slept in his childhood bedroom, the reason why Rem’s room remained a tomb, frozen in time, nothing disturbed except for when he went in armed with a duster every two weeks. Grief was a funny thing, horrendous in nature. Vash could only stay in this house in little increments, a bit at a time. Nai felt as if he would never be able to leave without betraying the woman who raised them.
“You can’t hold that over my head whenever it’s convenient,” Nai said to the saucepan. He was used to cooking for at least two considering how often Legato came over these days, but his friend was gone off to visit his parents and Vash would be his only company for the weekend Nai had off.
Vash put his hands on his hips, mock outrage pouring from him. “Oh yeah? Like you didn’t hold it over me all the time when we were growing up!”
“That’s because I was young and stupid and you were younger and stupider.”
“Wow, coming in hot with the heavy hitters, huh?”
“That’s a lot of alliteration for your pea brain. You sure you can take it?”
Vash’s responding squawk of offence brought a grin to Nai’s face. He received a light tap on his shoulder, meant to be a hit but Vash couldn’t really hurt a fly even if he tried his absolute hardest. “You’re so mean to me, your most beloved brother.”
“My only brother,” Nai shot back, “who is prone to making dumb decisions all the time. Just don’t go to Dune two with Wolfwood. It’s that simple.”
“But Florence Pugh!”
“Who?”
“Ugh.” Vash leaned over the stove at a dangerous angle to look directly at Nai’s face. His hands dragged his cheeks downward, making his whole face appear ghoulish. Little TMNT stickers decorated his prosthetic. “You need to get out of the house and watch more movies.”
“I have Netflix,” he responded with all the seriousness of a heart attack. “You’re being dramatic. Do I have to sit you out in the quiet corner again?”
“Quiet corner got nullified the moment I turned thirteen. And we don’t have those sensory toys anymore either, remember? We gave them to Lina.”
“Tell me, was Wolfwood a good boyfriend and did he buy you more?” Nai asked, raising an eyebrow.
Predictably, Vash spluttered, drawing back so violently that he was momentarily afraid his brother would simply topple right over. “He’s not—he isn’t my boyfriend!” he shrieked, so loud that Nai could feel his ears twinge in displeasure. If anyone could break Nai’s eardrums, it would be Vash. “You can’t—oh my God, Nai, you can’t just say stuff like that!”
“Sure I can.” Finally, he tossed the pasta into the sauce, turning off the heat to let the ingredients combine. “Only a matter of time, right?”
“Nai,” he whined. “It’s not like he likes me back.”
“What are you, twelve? Grow a pair and ask him out. Put us all out of our collective misery.” The pasta went neatly into two bowls which he brought to the kitchen counter. The dining table felt too impersonal to sit at. Vash followed him the whole way, confusion written across his face.
“What do you mean, collective misery?”
Nai paused. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well now I’m definitely gonna.”
Vash passed over cutlery and napkins and they sat, eating together. It was nice. It felt good, to be whole again. It was an old myth, that twins were two halves of one another, an allegation that Vash and Nai have fought against their whole lives but sometimes, it felt like the best way to describe their relationship. Two parts. Two people. One person.
“Is it good?” he asked over a glass of apple juice. “I’m no Wolfwood but—”
“Okay.” Vash jabbed his fork at Nai, narrowing his eyes at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Also yes, it’s very good but you already knew that.”
“Call me a jack of all trades.”
“I’ll call you whatever I like, Millions Knives.”
Hackles rising, he hissed, “It was one fucking time!”
“And it’s my sworn duty as your twin to remind you of your most embarrassing moments at every turn. You will never escape.”
“I’ll make you sleep outside with the wet leaves and the rain. See how you like insulting the homeowner then.”
“I can’t believe this.” Vash’s head thumped onto the counter lightly as he moaned. “My own flesh and blood!”
“Yeah, alright.” Taking another sip, Nai leaned away from his half-finished plate. “Anyway, speaking of the rain and leaves, I need you to call a guy tomorrow to clean out the gutter. It’s clogged up again and completely flooded.”
Vash lifted his head, fixing Nai with a look that was half-perplexed, half building excitement. “Why waste money on something you can do yourself?”
Nai blinked. “Vash, I dunno if you know this but I’m not a big fan of heights. Most people aren’t, actually.”
“No, Nai, I meant I could do it!”
Oh. Oh no, no, no. The alarm bells in Nai’s head started ringing almost immediately and the manic look in Vash’s eyes only made the sound worse. “No,” he said firmly. “You’ve got two left feet and no self preservation skills at all. You’re going to call someone and ask them to do it and I’ll leave money so you can pay them. Understood?”
“It’s literally just cleaning a gutter!” Vash insisted. “Not even I can screw that up!”
“And you know how to do that.”
“Brad taught me.”
They stared at each other, locked in a fierce tug of war. It was something they always did, waiting for the other to break and look away so that one may claim victory to whatever the prize may be. Nai, sleep deprived and tired as he was, was the first to break contact, closing his eyes and kneading the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Fine,” he gritted out. “But if you get yourself hurt I’m going to murder you.”
Vash’s grin was bright with victory. “Where’s your raincoat?”
It was how Nai found himself standing outside in the gloom and drizzle while staring at his crackhead brother clean out the gutter of their dead mother’s house. Just how he wanted to spend his evening honestly. Maybe he should invest in one of those big plastic bubbles to lock Vash in so that he could get himself into any more situations.
“Vash! I think that’s enough! The water’s draining down the pipe,” Nai called.
His brother spun, arms flailing and Nai swore he could feel his heart stop then and there. He sucked in a sharp breath and steadied himself as Vash sent him a thumbs up. “See! I told you I could do it!”
“Never doubted you for a second! Now get the fuck down before you give me a heart attack!”
Clambering over the roof tiles, Vash made his way down to the ladder they had situated at the front of the house. The streets were blissfully empty so the twins didn’t look like total idiots as they floundered their way through this task in a whirlwind of shouting and limbs.
Still, Nai held his breath as Vash’s foot settled on one rung, and then the other. Three rungs down and the ladder tilted.
It all happened in slow motion, though it was so fast that Nai didn’t even have the chance to stop it. Vash pitched sideways, arms pinwheeling uselessly as he over-corrected himself. The motion started with his head which had already leaned dangerously to the side and the soles of his boots left the rungs shortly afterwards. For a moment, Vash was weightless in the air, in suspended animation, an angel.
Then, he was crumpled on the ground before Nai could blink.
They were frozen for seconds, minutes, hours. He wasn’t sure but time did pass, fast and slow, rushing all around him. Nai worked his jaw, wanting to say anything but a soft, pained sound from Vash was all he needed to break the spell.
He ran over, just in time to stop the ladder from falling onto Vash. Wouldn’t that have been the icing on the fucking cake? Instead, Nai shoved the damn thing in the other direction so hard that it clattered loudly to the stone tiles. It might have broken. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t care either.
“Vash? Hey, talk to me!” His brother was curled up on his side, legs twitching as if he wanted to press his knees to his chest. The prosthetic was fine and from what he could tell, the blood pool staining the stone around him wasn’t so large that Nai needed to worry about imminent death but his heart rate would just not slow down. “Vash!” he said again, louder to compensate for the ringing in his ears.
“Arm,” he groaned. “Fuck, sorry, m’ arm.”
Withholding the urge to say I told you so was utterly monumental but Nai managed somehow. Vash rolled himself onto his back and Nai flinched at the anguished little noise he made in the process and found his eyes widening as he took in Vash’s only remaining arm. Of course. Of fucking course.
“Don’t move!” he snapped. “You might have a neck injury.” Nai was not a religious man but for now, he prayed to wherever Rem was to give him strength for the upcoming couple of days. “Don’t look, either,” he said sharply. “I need to call an ambulance.”
“Wh—” Raw fear flashed across Vash’s face and he turned his face to look, prompting Nai to grab him by the jaw and hold him down. “What happened? Nai?” His voice pitched high with terror and Nai had to swallow the lump back.
“You won’t lose it,” he said coolly, fishing out his phone. “But it’s very broken. You’ll probably need surgery.”
Very broken did not cover the fact that bone was sticking clean out of the pale skin of Vash’s arm. Blood dribbled down the limb in a lazy sort of way and it was really just Nai’s experience in a hospital that had him steeling his guts. Vash had no such training and it would not do for him to pass out while Nai didn’t know if he had a concussion.
Dialling the emergency number was easy enough. He got the words out in the right order with the right amount of panic laced within to get their asses hurrying over to their address. Still holding Vash’s face in a vice grip, he shook it slightly to get those eyes to peel open.
His gaze was foggy, bleary with pain. “They’re on their way,” Nai informed him. “I need to grab some ice packs so I—”
“Don’t!” The word rushed out of Vash’s throat, almost like it was torn free. Mechanical fingers curled into Nai’s soggy jumper. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”
It occurred to Nai then that this was a wound reopening for Vash. A nightmare lived twice. So he stayed. Sat on the icy ground, shivering and shaking but stayed while pressing a palm against the bleeding holes in Vash’s arm. Drowned out the squeaks and whimpers with quiet reassurances of his own until the ambulance arrived. And even then, he did not let go.
“Wolfwood.”
“Saverem.”
Nai floundered for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say. The duffel bag he’d picked up hung heavy on his shoulder and he was still shivering somewhat. He’d been given about five minutes to run to Vash’s room and throw everything important into a bag before scrambling into the ambulance after him.
They’d had to pry Vash off of him to get an x-ray and seeing his eyes delirious with pain and filled with tears was enough to make him want to start drinking more. So he’d called Wolfwood, partially to pick a fight and get his mind off of things and partially to make a plan.
“You havin’ a stroke over there? What, couldn’t get blondie to hate me this time either?”
To his abject horror, a breathy sob left his lips instead. Immediately, Nai clapped a hand over his mouth to contain his traitorous feelings. “It’s nothing,” he got out, muffled.
“Where are you?” Wolfwood’s tone had changed in an instant. He sounded more awake at the very least, like he was moving around. Nai heard the jingle of keys. “What the hell happened?”
A dry laugh spilled out of Nai’s mouth, sounding dangerously close to actual crying. “Vash fell off the roof and broke his arm. The-the flesh one.”
“He fucking—what? Why was he—no. Deep breaths. Okay. Where even are you right now?”
“Hospital. The one near my place.”
“I’ll be right there. Sit tight, ‘kay?”
Nai did just that. He slumped into a plastic waiting chair and bowed, head held tight in his hands. “Okay. See you soon.”
Wolfwood always made good on his promises. That was something he would always be able to rely on. So Nai hung up and leaned back, almost boneless. Nothing, he thought privately, could quite compare to the utter panic of seeing his brother in a hospital. It wasn’t the first time and, knowing Vash, it would not be the last.
Though, the last big time this happened was in the days following the Accident, capital A. And it wasn’t particularly fun, no, seeing his brother hooked up to so many machines and things that were keeping him alive, seeing him with one less arm and a bandaged stump that twitched and writhed occasionally. He knew about that stuff, phantom pains and ghost limbs and he never thought he would ever see any of it in real life.
Nai was a smart enough kid to know that when the doctors came towards him, wringing their hands with discomfort on their features, that someone hadn’t made it. Whether it was his mother or his other half, he wasn’t sure. Somehow, he had survived. He didn’t know how, but he did. Nai remained standing and pulled Vash out of hell with him, one armed and scarred and broken as he was.
Everything that followed was one, long awful blur. The fuck ass funeral where people eyed Nai like he was something to pity and looked at Vash like he was something to hate, the whirlwind of relatives that coughed up empty platitudes and meaningless words but never once thought about sending anything else their way.
Brad and Luida were the ones to take them in eventually. And they were kind and good where it mattered but they ultimately weren’t Rem and Vash had never quite been the same. Neither had Nai, in no small way either. But that was neither here nor there.
And now? He was back in that wretched hospital, waiting.
“Mister Saverem?”
The nurse was young and he did not recognize her. A small mercy. He stood quickly and nodded. “How is he?”
She smiled, apologetic almost. He wasn’t sure why but at least she was smiling. They never smiled if it was terrible news. “He’ll be just fine. No spinal injuries, though there are some superficial scrapes and bruises. His radius is fractured, and as you probably saw, it’s a compound fracture to boot. He’ll need surgery. If you’d like, we can walk you through the process and—”
“No thanks. I’m a med student. Fourth year,” he added because everyone should know. Or maybe the relief was loosening his tongue. “That’s fine. Do I have to sign anything?”
“Right this way,” she said with her strange little smile and he followed and skimmed the documents, signing to whatever was pointed. Then, she lead him back and inside a little room. Vash sat on the bed, propped up and wearing a hospital gown with a gauntness in his face that spoke of fear, though his eyes had lost the clouded, pained look. He must’ve been on the really good stuff. He lit up seeing Nai though. “Hey,” he said hoarsely, sitting down on a chair next to Vash.
“You need surgery.”
“So they keep telling me.” Vash bit his lip. “Will this—will, um, will this be covered by insurance?”
Nai wanted to laugh. He really, really, wanted to laugh. “That’s your first concern? Not the bone sticking out of your arm but whether or not we’re insured?”
“It’s a valid concern!”
“Don’t work yourself up too much.” Nai dragged a hand over his face with a deep sigh. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Thank Rem for that.”
“Thanks Rem,” Vash murmured in response. His eyes kept flickering to Nai’s and then darting away. He had something to ask and was ashamed about it, whatever it was. Knowing Vash, it probably wasn’t even that big of a deal.
“What?” he asked bluntly, both too raw and tired to dance around the topic.
Thankfully, Vash tried not to mince words. “Will you—will you be there? After, I mean?”
Vash didn’t have a hand to hold, his prosthetic already confiscated. But Nai leaned over and ruffled his hair as gently as he could, mindful of the scrapes along the side of his face. “Of course I’ll be there. Where else would I even be?”
“You’re damp.”
Wolfwood’s greeting was less than stellar, though Nai expected no less from him. He glowered, though his eyes were immediately fixed on the steaming coffee cup in his hands. “What’s that?” he asked, not daring to hope.
“Flat white. Oat milk. Here,” he said, and tossed a plastic bag filled with clothes at him. “Get changed and then come and drink your coffee. You Saverems are fucking gremlins, I swear.”
Nai frowned at the bag now in his hands, shifting it around to feel its weight. “Did you break into my house?”
“Wh—no?” Wolfwood sputtered. “They’re mine and Vash’s clothes you fucking dumbass. Get changed. You look miserable.”
“Aren’t you gonna ask? About him?”
“We can talk when you look like you’re not about to pass out.”
And Nai, exhausted as he was, did not bite back with any sort of retort, instead obediently going to the bathroom. His hair clung to his forehead and his face looked paler. There was blood caked around the cuffs of his sleeves from where he’d tried to stem the bleeding and Wolfwood was right. He looked tired and wet and miserable.
So he changed as quickly as he could in the bathroom stall. Vash’s pants, Wolfwood’s shirt, a hoodie that could’ve belonged to either of them. It was all so disgustingly domestic that if Nai were in a better state of mind, he might’ve sneered at it. Instead, he found himself grateful in no small way.
When he came out with his wet clothes bundled in that bag, Wolfwood silently stuffed them away in the backpack he carried and passed over the coffee cup. His fingers kept twitching towards his breast pocket and Nai knew he was craving badly. He tended to when he was stressed but not even Nicholas D Wolfwood would violate the sanctity of a hospital, no matter how dire the situation was. Vash had been going on and on about how good it was to see Wolfwood smoking less and less, now down to a pack every three weeks or so, even with exams coming up.
Baby steps, he’d excitedly said.
Nai took slow sips, allowing the warmth to heal every stinging little cut this altercation had left him with. Vash was fine. His arm was broken but he was in surgery. Vash had no severe allergies to any mainstream medication. Vash would be out of surgery in a few hours. Nai would be able to see his brother soon.
“He broke his radius,” Nai said eventually. “He’s in surgery right now. I have no reason to believe that things won't turn out well.”
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow, significantly more relaxed than before. “Is that an expert opinion?”
“Yes. Not that you would understand.”
“Oh, I understand plenty, Knives.”
The nickname brought to life the smallest quirk in Nai’s lips. “Sure thing, Woo-Woo.”
Wolfwood, predictably, went beet-red. “What the—how do you know about that?”
“How do you think?”
Turning furious eyes to the OR doors, Wolfwood seethed. “When that fucker wakes up, I’m killing him. I swear to God, I’m murdering him. And you’ll help me, Knives.”
“Oh will I, now?”
“You will, or I’m uploading the Millions Knives video onto TikTok.”
“You fucking bastard.”
“Phone’s nearly dead,” Wolfwood grouched. He turned to Nai, eyes narrowed. “You have an iPhone charger?”
Stuck in recovery room with Vash, still very asleep from his surgery and with a shiny, red cast on his arm, Wolfwood and Nai waited in near-silence. Nai glowered at his companion. “Do I look like an iPhone user to you?”
“Yeah, you fuckin’—you wouldn’t be, would you, asshole? Since you’re so special and different. Shoulda brought Vash’s portable charger,” he muttered mournfully. “Goddamn it.”
“With any luck, he’ll wake up and you’ll entertain yourself watching him try to recognise you under all those drugs. Last time, he thought I was Tom Felton for like…ten minutes straight and kept trying to talk in a British accent so we could understand each other. His words, not mine,” he added, watching Wolfwood’s eyes grow bright with glee. He was shaking, trapped laughter bubbling to life in his expression, as if he wanted nothing more than to cackle.
Nai wasn’t so stupid as to ask Wolfwood to simply go to their shared apartment and grab the charger. Neither of them wanted to be gone for when Vash eventually woke up. So they stayed and Wolfwood kept his grumbling to a minimum, situated on Vash’s right side where he had slipped a hand under the covers to gently cup his twitchy fingers.
For both of their sakes, Nai pretended not to notice, instead on the other side as he occasionally looked at the machines to ensure Vash was still breathing, that his vitals were still in the clear, before going back to reading.
“How long’d it take last time?” Wolfwood asked softly. “For him to wake up.”
Already, Nai could feel his throat closing at the memories. “It was different, last time,” he said tightly. “There was more to fix so he was under a lot longer. And there were more surgeries too. I think he spent like, two months in the hospital? It’s blurry,” Nai admitted, though he wasn’t sure why. These parts of him, the weaknesses of his heart he kept close to his chest. For a moment, he was afraid Wolfwood would just laugh it off, brush it away and ignore him.
Instead, he nodded solemnly. “Good thing it ain’t like last time then. Just a broken arm, right, dumbass?” The last part was said lovingly to Vash who shifted in his sleep, eyelids fluttering. Nai froze as he always did, not entirely sure what to do in these situations. It was Wolfwood who reached over and brushed the hair from Vash’s eyes. “That’s it. Open your pretty eyes for me.”
If Nai were in a better mood, he would’ve immediately faked a gag. Instead, he stayed fixated as slowly, over the course of several excruciating minutes, Vash’s eyes peeled open. Bright as ever, but quiet now as they lazily flicked over the two of them. His lips moved slowly, forming a word over and over again, though the hoarse push of his voice finally forced it out a minute later. “Nick.”
Wolfwood looked up at Nai in surprise. “He recognised me,” he said brow furrowed.
Nai shrugged. “He’s full of surprises.”
Vash’s head swivelled at the new voice in the room and his whole face lit up. “Nai?”
“Right here. Morning. You’re an idiot, by the way. Just thought you should know.”
“Mhm.” Slowly, he blinked, his face screwed up in thought. “Did I…” Trailing off, he looked over at Wolfwood questioningly. “Did I clean the gutter?”
Wolfwood doubled over, muffling his cackles in the sleeve of his hoodie while Nai openly gawked at Vash. “Yes,” he heard himself say, voice dripping with incredulity. “Yes you fucking dumbass, you did clean the gutter.”
And Nai allowed himself to think that it would be okay, in spite of everything.
Notes:
fully had a dream about this fic where rem was a plane engineer and her official cause of death was ‘boeing whistleblower’ so take that how you will
as a sidenote, i am aware that dune two (electric boogaloo) came out in february 2024 which was summer in the southern hemisphere but for the purposes of this fic, no it fucking did not. look away
Chapter 6: it’s bloody and raw but i swear it is sweet
Summary:
Hysterically, Vash thought Saverem birthday curse strikes again and felt tears wetting his cheeks as his legs fumbled and shook underneath them.
Notes:
here it is! the (other) reason i wrote this fic and the promised consequences to chapter 3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The bells hung above the door clinked together as Vash entered the little store, immediately attacked with the almost overwhelming smell of flowers and a small body striking him right in the legs. “Vash!” Lina laughed, hopping up to grab him by the crook of his elbow. Her little arms and legs clung onto him like an overgrown spider and he couldn’t quite help the chuckle that flowed out, as easy as breathing. “Grandma! Look who’s here!”
“That time of year again, hm?” Sheryl emerged from the back slowly, her keen gaze sharpening as she zeroed in on the splint on Vash’s arm. “Oh dear. What on earth did you get yourself into this time?”
“Ha,” Vash got out weakly, waving his now bandaged flesh arm around. “I’ve still got it, though! Just broke it a little. I’m fine, I swear.”
“Lina, dear, get off the poor boy. You don’t want to break the other arm now, do you?”
With a defeated little huff, Lina dropped to the floor in a heart-stopping motion that had Vash scrambling to steady her before she hit her head. She simply giggled and cartwheeled away, amazingly dexterous in the tiny space of the flower shop.
In comparison, Vash bumbled after her, slinking towards the counter while trying to dodge the many, gently swaying hanging pots. Hitting those gave him bruises that lasted for days. “Just the regular order today, please.”
“Of course, dear.” Sheryl gave him a weathered smile, all crooked teeth and love. “Happy birthday, Vash. Give my best wishes to your brother as well. Do you have any plans for tonight?”
Subconsciously, he scratched the back of his neck with his answer, the metal fingers scraping quietly along his skin and hair. “The university semester’s over for now so we have all the time in the world but we’ll probably just stay in. I honestly don’t know. Our friends kicked us out of Nai’s house for the entire day. He wasn’t so happy about it,” Vash added with a snort.
“I could imagine.” Sheryl busied herself with tying the bouquet of geraniums. His yearly visits for these specific flowers made it easier for her to keep them in stock for whenever he would arrive. Each year, the flowers looked healthy and vibrant and would last a long time in the jar they were sequestered into. Each year, it got a little easier to stomach seeing them.
Vash got about three seconds of peace before small arms and legs began to climb him, shimmying up his legs and clambering neatly onto his back. For Lina’s sake, he stood stock-still, refusing to budge even an inch until she got herself situated, arms locked around his neck with her knees digging into his ribs. “You should visit more,” she said, pout audible in her words. “I think that Mister Wolfwood would like some flowers.”
Face reddening, Vash stared at the floor between his shoes. “O-oh! Uh, well, Nick doesn’t—oh I don’t think he really likes flowers like Rem does-did, but it’s a nice thought, Lina, really, I—”
“Don’t torture him, Lina,” Sheryl said through a laugh. “He’ll make a move when he wants to. But she is right, dear. You should come and have tea more often. Bring your friends. Lord knows I’d love to know them better.”
“Yes ma’am,” Vash said quickly, knowing far better than to refuse. Nai teaming up with Lina was a nightmare already. She was even worse with Meryl and Nick. “We have plenty of time for that now. Oh, I’ll get Milly to bring her brownies. I think you’ll love them.”
“I’m sure I will.” Sheryl presented Vash with a full bouquet, blood red and verdant green. Geraniums had always been beautiful to him, large petals with flat, flower shaped leaves. He held the bundle reverently in the crook of his broken arm, quietly drinking in the sight as he reached for his wallet with the other. “None of that,” Sheryl snapped, lightly slapping his prosthetic.
“Hey! You can’t keep letting me not pay for them! That’s a terrible way to run a business,” Vash whined.
“Imagine the look on your poor mother’s face if she found out I was letting her baby pay for something like this on his birthday.” Tutting disapprovingly, she leaned forward, a full head shorter than Vash, and laid her warm palm on his cheek. “She’d be turning in her grave. You go, dear, and you have a good night, alright? You deserve it. Lord knows you do.”
“I’m not a baby anymore,” he mumbled.
“You’ll always be a baby to an old woman like me.” Patting his cheek gently, she smiled, soft and kind. “You’ve grown up to be such a good, kind young man. I don’t tell you enough. She’d be so proud of you.”
“Oh.” Eyes suddenly burning, he blinked hard. Lina’s weight shifted as she rested her chin on the top of his head with a happy little noise. “Thank you.”
“Sweet boy,” Sheryl crooned. “Off you go, now. Shoo! Have a happy birthday, alright? Lina, get off him, please. Safely, girl.”
Giggling all the while, Lina climbed down and landed with a slight flourish, though she didn’t escape Vash bending over to kiss the crown of her head before he left. “Thanks for everything! I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”
The bell jingled pleasantly as he left.
Vash walked in the drizzle, hood drawn up with the flowers tucked underneath his jacket. While yes, flowers getting water was generally a good thing, the paper holding them together was very soluble and practically dissolved the moment it made contact with anything wet so he kept them as dry as physically possible.
It was a nice night. The sun was setting over the city skyline, barely visible through the cloud cover. Just a streak of bright light locked behind the grey and nothing more. Nick didn’t like the winter as much as Vash did, a point of contention for both of them whenever Vash started insisting to going on nightly walks together to enjoy the frigid air. Nick hated the cold and looked utterly adorable wrapped up in every available scarf, coat and hat he could find.
On this winter eve, it was just Vash, however, making his way back to his brother’s house on foot. He could drive but walking was much nicer. Better for people watching too.
An old lady helped across the street by a firefighter who had separated from his group still standing around the base of a tree. A kid was stuck in it, giggling haplessly at the attempts to get him down while his mother watched on in embarrassment. The owner of the deli crouching on his old knees to feed a stray dog the meat he could not sell that day. He’s affectionate to it, scratching behind its ears as it lapped up the food. Two little girls biked past Vash at a dizzying speed, their helmets painted bright with Disney princesses. Their pigtails streamed behind them in the wind.
Rem told them, in no uncertain terms, that the good in the world would always outweigh the bad. That people want to be kind above all, because humanity is good and kind and all of the wonderful things it had built.
Of course, it would be his love of people watching that became his downfall.
There were others. Behind him, around him, closing in, pressing against the walls of his self-contained bubble very few people were allowed to come near. Strangers, his mind hissed, run, run, run.
Vash did nothing of the sort, his first mistake of many. He wasn’t a particularly anxious person before the accident but afterwards, his paranoia ratcheted upwards, almost to Meryl levels. But there were people there, people he didn’t know that kept glancing over to him with hunger in their imagined eyes and he hunched his shoulders tighter around his ears and walked a little faster, mindful of slipping on the stone tiles of the pavement.
Fumbling for his phone, he glanced down at it blearily. Vash had forgotten to charge it the previous night and he’d been out for the full day. Battery: 2% blinked up at him mirthlessly, immediately becoming smudged by droplets of rain falling onto the screen. Quickly, he tucked it away. If anyone called, if there was an actual emergency, he could not waste battery on some dumb suspicion plaguing him.
People walked in front of him, to the sides, probably behind and he was barricaded in and he didn’t really understand why. Had he done something wrong? Were these police officers? Breath picking up, Vash’s eyes slid between the buildings in the city and rested onto an alley, somewhere quiet to slip into. If they were really following, he’d know if he escaped.
Quickly, he made a sharp turn, striding straight into an alley he knew was a shortcut to the university campus where he’d have a much better time hiding considering the plentiful people and tiny, hidden study rooms.
The footsteps behind him thumped loudly as they approached, faster and faster. Heart in his throat, Vash tore through the alleys, a well-worn path he’d walked many times on brighter days with Nick and Meryl, stolen smiles and sticky ice cream heralding their every step.
This was not that. This was cold and rain and fear, running for his life, running away from a danger that was formless, almost intangible.
He stopped dead when someone new peered through the shadows, stepping out from behind a corner, though they hunched over, clearly having run the entire way. Vash stumbled back a step, eyes darting around. Men on his right and left, a presence at his back. He was boxed in and very claustrophobic.
“Fellas!” he tried cheerily, almost breathless. “I-I don’t know exactly what I did wrong but I’m sure we can solve whatever it was over a drink. It’s on me!”
The flowers wrapped in paper crinkled against his chest. He held on tighter when a voice, dangerously close to his ear, hissed, “Getting drinks is how we got into this mess to begin with, buddy.” The last word was bit out like a vicious thing. Vash shivered slightly, frowning at the familiar voice.
“Do-do I know you?”
“Sure you do. Been a couple of months but I’d never forget your pretty face.”
Vash’s skin erupted in an uncomfortable itch, as if a thousand ants had taken refuge in his flesh. Slowly, he turned around and was nose to nose with a man that made rage bubble to life in the pit of his stomach. It was such an ugly emotion that his mouth went dry at the feeling alone. The leather, the hair, the expression he wore, careless and cruel all at once. “It’s you,” he said quietly, his one human fist clenched and shaking. “You’re the one who—you spiked my friend’s drink.”
The man’s face twisted and he reached forward, grabbing Vash by the shirt like he did all those months ago. Practically rooted to the spot in fear, he allowed it, craning his neck to get as far away without actually moving. “Look at that, boys. He remembers me.”
“Let go.” Vash’s voice sounded far more confident that he actually felt, dripping with icy fury. “Let me go right now.”
“And what if I don’t, tough guy?”
Vash knew, better than most honestly, that violence only seemed to cause more problems than it was worth. He wasn’t violent, nor was he particularly scrappy. If Nick were here, it would be a different story entirely. How many times had Vash physically had to restrain him from getting into a fight? How many times had Vash thought around the violence to come to a decent enough compromise?
But Nick wasn’t here. It was just him on his lonesome, one arm missing, the other in a splint, crushed flowers to his chest and rain soaking through his hood.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said, fighting to keep his voice from wavering. “I’m just trying to get home.”
“He doesn’t want any trouble, he said,” the man crowed, crowding closer to Vash. There was nowhere to go, bodies pressing close from right behind him. A hand, warm and firm, landed on his shoulder blades and stopped him from moving any further. “Lost us a pretty penny that night. You ready to make it up?”
The implications had his stomach clenching. Were they going to sell Meryl? Were they about to sell him? Shaking renewed, he tried to stumble backwards, forgetting momentarily that he was completely boxed in. “Let me go.” His voice came out breathier, panicked. “Don’t do this and let me go.”
“Scared?” Hot breath rolled over his face, making him cringe. “C’mon, pretty boy, don’t be shy. We have a score to settle, after all.”
Vash’s eyes flickered downwards at the first sight of motion and tracked the trajectory of the man’s knee as it made contact with his stomach. The force alone made him double over, pain slamming into him a second later and he gasped raggedly, even as he was yanked back upright.
Something slid over his face and slotted in between his teeth, hitting the back of his throat and stretching the corners of his lips wide. Eyes bulging in panic, his fingers flew to his mouth and tried to wrench the fabric out. It was bitter on his tongue, cutting tightly into his cheeks as a knot was tied at the back of his head. Vash was effectively gagged and the realization only made his heart hammer harder against his chest.
Someone hooked their arms underneath his armpits and wrenched them backwards. The flowers fell to the floor and, involuntarily, a whine slipped free from behind the gag as he watched them fall to the ground. He kicked out desperately, trying to save them and their carefully folded packaging even as he was dragged back and away, deeper into the darkness.
Hysterically, he thought Saverem birthday curse strikes again and felt tears wetting his cheeks as his legs fumbled and shook underneath them.
The second blow came out of nowhere, clipping his jaw and snapping his head painfully to the side. He grunted and writhed, face aching as tears helplessly streamed down his face. “Stop,” he got out through the gag. “Please stop!”
Laughter rung in his ears and a kick to the back of his knees had Vash crumpling to the floor in a heap of flailing limbs. A hand fisted in his hair, gripping tight and yanking the strands painfully but the hand was moving, his head going with it. He didn’t realise what they were doing until he blinked and the wall was millimeters from his face.
Pain exploded across his temple. Vash bit down on a shriek and saw black and white spots blink in and out of existence. His head spun as it was moved again and he sobbed out loud, trying to pull his arms free as he babbled, “No, no, no, please, please stop, don’t—”
Crack!
He gagged on the vomit crawling up his throat, head in so much agony that he was half convinced it would explode. The mental image of this alley covered in blood and brain matter sent another wave of nausea through him.
Something warm dripped down his chin. Vash was let go, sudden enough to have him scrambling for purchase. With his arms underneath him, he raised his flesh hand to his face and it caught on something slippery. His fingers were crimson when he pulled them away. Distantly, he recognised this as a very bad sign.
Something caught his ribs with so much force it bowled him over. He thought he heard a crack too, before his vision flickered into darkness for just a moment.
Peeling his eyes open again, Vash was lying on his side, bloodied fingers twitching. The men had surrounded him and the shadows hung like curtains around their faces, concealing their expressions utterly. They spoke over his head, or perhaps right at him. He couldn’t tell, his head feeling as if it was filled with water. For the first time in a while, he felt small.
Get up.
The voice in his head was rough with age and experience, tired and warm all the while. Two words is all he said and it was enough to urge Vash into getting his arms back underneath him, pushing himself up while trembling so hard he was afraid he’d fall.
“Not enough for you, sweetheart?” one of them crooned.
Vash didn’t open his mouth, not trusting his ability to keep his tongue still as he slowly lifted himself into a sitting position, slumped against the icy wall. He needed to get up. He needed to get up and leave.
His cheeks hurt, his head throbbed and his ribs were aching awfully. Something felt broken for sure and he knew, deep down, that it would warrant another trip to the hospital. Vash’s eyes burned with helpless tears.
Click.
The sound was unfamiliar but struck a chord of absolute terror into his bones. When Vash looked up, his eyes focused enough to peer down the barrel of a gun pointed straight at his head. Frozen, shaking, he waited with bated breath. “He’s scared shitless,” the man holding the weapon snorted. “Look at him. Where’s all that bravado gone, eh?”
“I do-don’t—” He gagged on the taste of copper slowly encroaching his tongue. “Ple-please don’t—please, I won’t te-ll anyone.”
“Fuckin’ pathetic.” It pressed closer, nozzle flush against his forehead. Vash trembled fiercely underneath it. “Alright, sweetheart. Easy fix. You just give us the address of your lovely lady friend and we’ll let you go, free of charge. How’s that sound?”
He was shaking his head before he processed the request, tears springing to his eyes. Not Meryl. Not Meryl, oh God, don’t hurt Meryl. “No, nononono—”
Blinding agony shot across his cheekbone. His head snapped to the side and it took far too long to realise he’d been pistol-whipped. Vash choked on the pain and fell forward, hands splayed out flat in front of him. “Look at that, boys. He needs a little more convincing.”
The gun disappeared from view and Vash had five seconds to breathe before something hit him in the chest. His back knocked against the wall behind and he wheezed, fingers clenching and unclenching as he kicked his legs while trying to scramble away. Again, a great force knocked the wind out of him and this time, blood dribbled down his chin and soaked the gag, trailing lazily across the skin of his neck. He coughed on it, choking for a second on the tang of metal and iron and death.
Hands grasped his hair and pulled, ripping him away from the wall. Vash fell and landed hard on his shoulder, where he curled up and took it all.
Kicks rained down on him. One and then two and then three before they all became too numerous to count. His head, his neck, his spine and stomach whenever the boots were able to worm their way to his torso. If he ever woke up after this, life was going to be hell for the months it would take for his body to heal.
Something landed hard on his prosthetic and sent an awful tingle of electricity up his arm, shooting through his shoulder and down his back. Vash shrieked into the gag, spine arching and then sagging when another kick caught him in the side of his neck. He choked on it and covered his throat with his one working hand.
He was dying. Vash was dying in this alley, alone and cold and wet, covered in blood and surrounded by people who wanted to hurt the people he loved. Vash would never get to see his next birthday or his friends or anything beautiful again and not even the distant comfort of maybe seeing Rem again could rouse him from the bone-deep terror entrenched in his very bones.
There was a clatter above all of the clamour. A sound that rang in Vash’s skull, painfully causing all other sensations to come screeching to a halt.
In the puddle of blood and rainwater, Vash stared outwards past the tangle of legs. Glinting in the light of distant streetlights was a silver gun. Bulky and strange and ethereally clean in spite of the mud and dampness. It looked ephemeral almost, not entirely there. Slowly, he reached out towards it and knew, without touching, exactly how it would fit into his hand.
That’s it, spikey. A little further.
Someone stomped down on his metal arm. The action pushed a bundle of nerves to short-circuit and he spasmed uncontrollably, mouth stretched wide as his vision blotted out. When he was able to see again, the gun shone brighter. The beating lessened somewhat and Vash crawled, dragging himself bodily away from the pain and the boots, crying out when one landed firmly on the small of his back.
A boot crashed straight into his ribcage and Vash felt something crack. He screamed then, breathless and broken as every limb he had left failed him utterly. He fell onto the ground in a heap of bones and bruised flesh, twitching and moaning. A gasping cry left his mouth when a foot found his fingers and started to grind them into the concrete.
Get the bastard off. You can do it. Get him off.
Vash, muffling a scream into his teeth, wrenched his hand free. Blood dribbled down his fingers, soaking into the ruined splint. What had Nai said? The splint was there to make sure the healing process wasn’t further disturbed. Hopefully, he wouldn’t rebreak his arm.
A chorus of laughter followed and Vash only continued to crawl, hyperaware of how he was being followed, step by step. When he reached out with his flesh hand, only an arms-length away from his treasure, a kick to his shoulder jostled it so badly he whimpered into the ground, fingers failing him for a moment. But the nerves sparked again and he willed his hand to work.
Vash’s fingers curled around the handle and he tugged, bringing it close to his chest before wrapping his whole body up, as small and tight as possible. A burst of light followed the action. The metal was smooth and cold, leeching the heat from him but it wasn’t wet. This he knew with certainty. It wasn’t wet because it wasn’t there, not really.
The foot caught him in his tender ribs and pushed him onto his stomach. A boot pressed down on his chest as a face encroached into his vision. He was being crushed. He was dying, unable to breathe and the gun in his hand trembled helplessly.
Shoot. Shoot them now.
“I dunno how,” Vash mumbled tearfully. “I dunno, I dunno—”
Yes you do. Look. Safety off, check for bullets. Inhale, aim, exhale, fire. Look, spikey. You hafta look.
Trembling all over, Vash looked. The barrel was smooth, almost glowing in the darkness and it fit just right. He wrapping his fingers around it, metal and flesh, and found the safety which clicked off. His motions were well-practised, the weapon familiar even if he didn’t understand what he was doing in the first place. The men stared at him now, laughter in their faces. “You’re gonna shoot us? You’re actually gonna shoot us?” they said without moving their lips.
“Where the hell did that come from anyway?”
“Wait—”
“Fucking shit, what’s that?”
“I can’t,” Vash sobbed. The gun shook, almost slipping out of his hands but the presence was all around, warm and soothing and as stubborn as a mule. The shadows flitted and changed and grew ten times larger in size as they loomed overhead but the voice was there and real and as warming as the sun.
You can. Survive, spikey. For Meryl.
His gaze focused on them, only just, sharpened down to one singular point as he raised the gun and slammed one eye shut.
For Meryl, he thought as he pressed down on the trigger.
The gun was gone and Vash was floating. Hood drawn up with petals still stuck to his face, the gag cutting into his cheeks and his prosthetic more or less dead to the world, he stumbled up the steps of the porch to the house he hoped was his brother’s.
Slowly, quietly, he knocked and was hyperaware of his knees trembling so hard he was afraid they’d give out on him. “Nai,” he called, muffled and raspy.
Seconds passed, excruciatingly slowly and it was torture to wait. Horrific to wonder if the shadows were behind him still, if they were going to grab him and drag him straight down to Hell themselves. Mind racing, Vash flinched when the door clicked open.
Nick’s face almost made Vash start crying again. He looked so open, so happy to see him, and so handsome in his suit that, for a moment, he was convinced that the night would go by without a hitch in spite of everything. “Blondie! What the hell took yo—what the fuck?” Horror dripped from those words and Vash made to step forward to try and comfort him. He stumbled over his own feet and fell instead, crumpling heavily to the ground. Strong arms caught him, a hand ripping the hood off his face. “Fucking shit! Nai!” Nerves still shot, Vash attempted to pry himself free but Nick’s arms only stiffened. “Hey! Hey, easy, easy, it’s just me, alright? Nai!”
“Fucking hell, what is it?” Nai’s voice did make Vash burst into tears. He cried silently against Nick’s neck but pushed himself up, reaching out to his brother feebly with his flesh arm. Nai stopped, took him in and froze entirely. “Fuck. What—Wolfwood, what the hell hap—”
“Shut the fucking door,” Nick snarled.
Vash felt his stomach sink to his knees but allowed Nick to pull him along. He was being dragged in all honesty, legs too uncooperative to move properly. The door slammed shut and he heard the locks click into place. A part of him that was tense loosened enough to allow him to breathe through his crying. Vash dug his fingers into his cheeks as he tried to rip the gag away from his mouth but his fingers fumbled and shook every time he attempted to gouge the damn thing out.
He didn’t look up. He didn’t dare make eye contact with Nick who was furious at him. Vash busied himself with staying upright and trying to speak to explain. Nai pulled the hand he was using to work the gag free away from his face and looped it around his own neck, helping Vash stand. A fresh wave of tears rolled down his face.
“Sorry,” he tried to say, utterly inadequate and incomprehensible anyway.
“Big girl, get the first aid kit! Meryl, can you grab some blankets and shit? Maybe have the ambulance on speed dial. We’ve got a problem.”
“Problem?” The sound of Meryl’s voice had never been sweeter. Vash untangled himself without much grace and surged forward with a burst of energy he didn’t know he had left, practically tripping over himself to see her.
She looked wonderful and whole and alive. Dressed in blue and white with her short hair styled with clips that looked like wings framing either side of her face. Terror twisted her neutral expression but she ran forward and met him halfway, her hands coming up to cup either side of her face. She was so fiercely warm too, warding off the chill that had settled deep in his bones. “Needle!”
“Vash, wait!”
“Oh my God,” she was muttering, voice high with anxiety. “Oh my God, Vash what happened?”
“Meryl,” he whispered reverently as his legs gave out. She followed him too, sinking to the floor and getting her pretty dress rumpled. Gently, she guided his head to her collarbone where it rested fitfully. He absorbed the sound of her jackrabbit heart, serene in spite of the pain in his body. “Meryl.”
“I’m here,” she said shakily. “I’m right here, okay? Just breathe, Vash. Take big, deep breaths for me.”
He couldn’t. He was trying but he couldn’t, air getting clogged in the space between his lips and his teeth as the gag remained, entirely unyielding. Vash clawed at his cheeks with the desperation of a dying man as he choked and spluttered, ravenous for air. Hot hands plucked his own from his face, gripping them tight.
“—it off, Meryl. Here, I’ll hold him.”
“Vash,” Meryl was saying quietly, right into his ear, “I’m going to untie it, okay? But you need to be still for me.”
He nodded. He could do that. He could be quiet and still for Meryl. Rougher hands, filled with callouses, grasped his and held it firmly, a warm thumb stroking over the skin of his knuckles. Meryl worked in terse silence and she was being careful, he could tell. So careful not to tug at his hair too much as she undid the knot.
The fabric fell away from his teeth and he opened and closed his mouth, drawing in greedy lungfuls of air as he did. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she was babbling. “Vash, you need to breathe, okay. Deep breaths. You’re fine. You’re okay.”
He pulled himself off of her, blurry eyes fixating on the speckled red shining against the skin of her neck. Vash froze all over. “No. No,” he whispered, his trembling fingers ghosting over it. “Did he—” Wildly looking around, he felt his breathing quicken in his chest. “He’s not—you’re hurt!”
“No, no, Vash, it’s your blood,” she said tearfully, grabbing his face. “It’s yours. I’m not hurt but you need to let us help now, okay?”
Vash tried to tug his hands away and found them locked in a death grip. When he looked up, he saw Nick’s eyes boring into his own and felt cold all over. “Blondie—Vash,” he said slowly, “you need to tell us what happened.”
A hand landed on his shoulder and the part of Vash that was still stuck in that alleyway gasped sharply. The hand retreated as quickly as it came and when the moment passed, shame slammed into him. “I—” He wet his lips. The world was spinning and he felt awful, cold and sticky and achy all over. “It was th-em. Him.”
“Who?” Nick was being so patient with him. Nick had always been so patient with him, even when he didn’t deserve any of it.
Fighting tears, Vash shook his head. “From the-the bar. Back then. It was him.”
Nick’s eyes remained blank as he searched his memory. It was Meryl who realised with a quiet hiss. “Vash,” she said, a storm brewing underneath the calm of her words, “was it the man who tried to spike my drink?”
He flinched. He couldn’t help it. But Vash nodded assent and felt the room’s temperature drop by a few degrees. “Wolfwood,” Nai said sharply. “Not here.”
Nick, who had been opening his mouth, shut it with a thunderous expression and Vash sank further into the floor, guilt and horror mixing into a hellish cocktail in his stomach. “Fucking bastard. Shit, we need to call the goddamn police. Fuck!” He felt sick, he felt faint, he felt like he was dying, truly withering away. Like this was the one thing he could not walk away from no matter how hard he tried.
It was bad. It was so bad. Vash had fucked up so monumentally that he couldn’t even begin to find a way out of this situation with anything intact. He needed to go, he needed to leave before he put anyone else in danger. Had he been followed on the way? Vash couldn’t remember who he had shot and who had run but there was no way he’d take the chance. Meryl’s quiet ministrations, her gentle care over him only strengthened his nausea. He couldn’t get her hurt. He couldn’t be the reason she died. He wouldn’t survive it, selfishly enough.
So he shot up and tried to shrug off their hands even at Nick’s indignant squawk, puttering around on his feet as he regained balance. The world swooped around him, the walls crumbling before his very eyes as he fought off the roiling sickness. “What the hell are you doing?” Nick barked and Vash only started to cry again.
“Sorry,” he moaned. “Sorry. I’ll go—I’ll go I swear, just give—” He pressed his lips together and shuddered, willing his stomach to settle. “Give me a moment.”
“Sit the fuck back down!” The abruptness of the words, the residual panic clinging to him like a second skin, it ripped a choked noise from the depths of his chest and made him clap his hands inelegantly over his ears. Vash’s head smarted and spun from the sudden contact.
“Wolfwood!” Meryl hissed. It was enough to make him cower. She stood and clung onto Vash’s side, pulling his flesh hand from his head. His clumsy attempts at batting her away weren’t working and he only sobbed harder for it, even as Meryl stubbornly held on tighter. “Sit down, Vash. We’re going to call for help and we’ll get you fixed up, okay?” The waver in her voice was almost distracting in its intensity.
Vash was shaking his head even before he processed the words. Someone was on his other side, arms wrapped around his waist and he was melting into their embrace without even thinking. “No, no, no, I can’t, I can’t—"
“Can you tell us why, Vash?”
That was Nai. He’d recognise his brother’s quiet tone anywhere. Vash supposed the first apology would always go to Nai for all of the pain Vash caused him over the years. Turning his head and blinking away the fuzz, he explained as best as he could through the tears. “I’m cursed,” he gasped.
“Cursed?” Nai’s brows shot up to the ceiling but his expression didn’t change at all. He stayed holding Vash close, boxing him in. “You have to explain it, okay Vash? I still don’t understand.”
“I—” And he didn’t get how Nai didn’t understand because Vash had known this for a very long time. Known this since the accident and even before that to some extent. He was a burden, a curse, the walking embodiment of misfortune. Everything he touched only shrivelled and died, including himself. How else had he been left with only one arm? Vash’s face crumpled and reflexively, he moved to scrub at it before realizing both arms were pinned. “I killed Rem and-and I’m gonna get you killed too so I hav-have to go. I keep hu-urting people! I have-I have to go, Nai, I have to—”
“Vash.” Expression crept back into Nai’s voice. He flinched, closed his eyes and waited for whatever he was about to say even though nothing came. “Vash, that-that wasn’t your fault. You understand that, right? You understand that you couldn’t have done anything to stop that driver?”
Meryl was crying. He didn’t mean to make Meryl cry. Could he do anything without hurting anyone? “I don’t…” I don’t understand. “Meryl’s in danger, Nai. ‘S my fault ‘n I have to go, I have to go so I don’t hurt her, please—”
Her choked off sob felt more like a stab directly to Vash’s chest. Nai was shaking his head furiously. “No. No, Vash you protected her. You made sure they couldn’t hurt her, okay? Easy, easy, it’s okay.”
In the next second, Vash was being crushed to Nai’s chest in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced. His broken body protested fiercely and yet all Vash could do was hold on as tight as his one fist would allow.
“Nai,” he wept, bitter tears tracing their way down his cheeks, “I have to l-leave!”
“You aren’t going fucking anywhere,” Meryl snarled from his side, indignant and teary. “You think you get to worm your way out of this? You think you’re just gonna offer yourself up to be sacrificed? Tough luck, asshole. You’re staying, and we’re dealing with it together.”
Hyperventilating now, he clung on tighter with a wounded noise, confusion and terror melding together into a dizzying combination of emotion. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—I should’ve—"
Nick’s face filled his vision, so soft it hurt, and he stopped talking, bracing instead. Whatever Nick had to say, whatever anger was about to come out was nothing Vash didn’t deserve. Instead, all he got was, “It ain’t your fault at all, blondie. Sorry for spookin’ you earlier. Big girl’s called the ambulance ‘n they’ll be here in a bit. You okay to hang on?”
“You—” He swallowed thickly, blood and snot forming a blockage in his throat. “You aren’t angry.”
“Never,” Nick growled. “Never at you. At the bastards who hurt you, okay? It wasn’t your fault, Vash.”
And then, deliriously, he listed forward a little, held up only by the arms that stayed wrapped around him. “You said my name,” Vash whispered wondrously. “You said my name.”
“Fuck,” Nick ground out. “You needta sit. You’re all over the place.”
He shook his head. Nick’s brows furrowed in confusion and Vash hurried to explain, eyelids drooping as the fight left him in a rush. “Need-need to go back,” he slurred. “I need to get Rem’s flowers back. They have-they have the flowers. I…need to get the flowers—”
“No, nonono, don’t sleep, don’t sleep, you’re not allowed to sleep, needle!”
“Fuck! Wolfwood, can you—”
“Here, there we go, that’s it. Stay awake, Vash. Keep those pretty eyes open.”
“Seriously, Wolfwood? Now?”
“Oh, fuck off—”
And Vash knew no more.
Vash had never liked the smell of hospitals. They were too sharp, too overstimulating on his senses. Too bright and too loud as well. There was no reprieve from it all, the horror of being trapped in those white walls and clean sheets, with doctors and nurses who looked at him with mixed pity and sadness when they saw the state of his body.
Such an ugly thing. He hoped he was wearing a gown at least.
Vash’s eyes were crusted with sleep and tears but he opened them and felt floaty and free, drifting into white oblivion all the while. The lights were still too bright, same as last time, but there were shadows blocking it. Something warm was attached to his hand. He hoped it would never leave.
He must have made a sound or something because a shadow took on a face and peered down at him, warm brown eyes taking him in with a crinkling smile. “Good morning, Vash,” Milly whispered. She reached out and stroked his hair back away from his face. The points of contact tingled with an old ache and he winced as she let go. Something dark shuttered over her face but it was smoothed out with a grin. “You’ve been asleep for a while. How do you feel?”
Vash made an approximation of a sound that was more or less quiet acceptance. Okay, is what he wanted to convey. Milly only hummed and took a seat near him. “Wh-where—” Vash rasped out, stopping when Milly put up a hand to silence him. She was still in her dress, he realised, about to go to a party that would never take place. A pang of guilt struck his heart.
“Nai went to talk to the doctor. Meryl’s gone home to get us all a change of clothes and Nicholas is right there,” she finished, nodded at Vash’s other side.
Slowly, painfully, he turned his head to his other side and blinked as he took in Nick’s dishevelled appearance, the way he was basically folded in half as he lay on the bed while clutching Vash’s human hand. “Oh,” he said stupidly.
“You scared us a little bit,” Milly went on. “But it’s all okay now! The doctor said you had some internal bleeding and a few cracked ribs. The doctors say it was a miracle nothing punctured your lung. Your port is a little messed up but it’s nothing they can’t fix. You have a concussion too, but it’s nothing that won’t get better. You’ll be right as rain soon enough!”
Oh. That was good. There was a tightness in Milly’s expression that told him a little more. Something had happened the previous night that he couldn’t really remember. He could blame it on the concussion. But she looked okay. Alive and well, at the very least. “The-him? And-and them, are they—”
He was almost afraid to ask. But Milly shook her head, eyes surprisingly sharp. “They’ll all be fine too. You got them good, Vash. You really did. Only shot them in the shoulders and the knees.” There were a billion questions in Milly’s eyes, he could tell, but she was kind enough to hold off for now. Everything would be revealed in due time, even if he couldn’t really understand it himself.
And that was a phenomenon he wasn’t sure he’d ever explain. How he, Vash Saverem, notoriously bad at everything, managed to shoot a posse of grown men into submission and get away to tell the tale would never make sense in his mind. Memories came back to him in flashes, stops and starts and that was it. There was no grand absolution, no completion to it. Just the fact that Vash was there, that he held a gun and now he was alive.
“Okay,” he breathed and settled back into his pillows.
Nai’s entrance was heralded by the clack-clack of his dress shoes. His eyes widened comically when he saw Vash and he wasted no time, immediately making his way to his side and hovering, hands fretting but unsure. “You’re awake,” he stated, panic behind his words. “Does it hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?”
And Vash smiled up at him. “Nai,” he mumbled, which made him melt.
Quietly, Nai leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of Vash’s head. “Idiot,” he whispered thickly. “I love you. Brad and Luida are on the way. They’re not letting you out of their sight for the next hundred years.”
Nick grumbled in his sleep and squeezed Vash’s hand tighter but didn’t rouse. He’d be in for it when he did wake up but for now, he basked in the heat of close friends and family and he felt okay. He felt okay.
Notes:
considering making this a series. let me know what you think in the comments bros, like and subscribe and i’ll all you dudes in the next video B)