fourstrings | i knew this would happen, still hard to believe it

i knew this would happen, still hard to believe it

[ At this point he’s said you’ll be the death of me to Vash on multiple occasions. Every time a violent situation would be easily solved by lasering someone’s head off, for example. Or when Vash figured out how he was coming up with the money for inns and hotels and tried to argue that it wasn’t fair to use his skills to fleece people, still pouting about it when Wolfwood pointed out stopping would mean no more actual beds, no bathtubs, and zero donuts. When they figured out that making Vash come via his dick meant he was still raring to go by other means, that was a good one.

He’d say it now, if he was well enough. Told you you’d be the death of me. It’s probably a good thing he got hurt so bad he can’t speak, because Vash wouldn’t think it was funny.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t want Vash to blame himself anyway, even if there’s no way in hell he would have put himself between someone else and a bullet without Vash’s influence. And it was fucking stupid! It’d be one thing if it was Vash, or a kid, or like… a really hot woman. But the person Nicholas D. Wolfwood, The Punisher, tackled out of the way and took a bullet for was an old man. Probably only got ten or fifteen good years left in him anyway, but the guy had given them a place to stay and made sure they were fed and introduced them to his family, and all Wolfwood could think of when he saw the bandit firing at him was his damn grandkids, and the way Vash would sink into that pattern of thinking he ruins everything he lets close again. How the fuck was he supposed to know the first bullet would hit the damn pocket he keeps his vials in? He’d even arranged a drop in the next town over, but he can’t tell Vash that because the second bullet had hit him right in the throat. Long term treatment like he got is designed to keep you on your feet long enough to get a dose to heal you up, but in this case all it’s gonna do is make sure he dies slow.

He'd thought about this moment, when he was feeling especially maudlin. How he’d kiss Vash gently and tell him that he gets to die a better man than he was, because of Vash. But he can’t speak, can’t move his limbs to raise a hand to Vash’s face. All he can do is gurgle and bleed and hurt. He’d almost forgotten how much it hurts and for how long when you can’t patch it up right away.

Turns out, though, that there’s one more thing he can do. And as his vision fills with blotches of red and black, he does it, and passes right the fuck out. ]

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[ wolfwood lets it go, and that's something. vash doubts he's off the hook forever, but maybe long enough to pack some of his own reaction back up and box it away, to figure out what he's supposed to do about any of this.

standing is enough to make him wince, but vash bites back on it. he hadn't really taken proper stock of the injuries before, but with the adrenaline wearing off, they're making themselves known. he'll have to find a way to deal with them once they're settled somewhere safe, but that's... a problem for future vash. (sorry, buddy.)

for now, his main priority is making the smile he summons up halfway to believable as he extends a hand to help wolfwood up. ] Subtle, huh?

[ He catches that wince, too, the way the smile makes it maybe halfway to Vash's eyes before he forces it the rest of the way with sheer determination. Once they have somewhere to rest, he can bug Vash about how much pain he seems to be in, what he might need. For now, it seems like the best way he can thank Vash is to go along with the lie. ]

As always.

[ He takes Vash's hand, even though he mostly pushes himself to standing. It's steadying in more ways than for balance, and he keeps hold of it as they move towards the truck. If a near-death experience doesn't get him off the hook for being lovey-dovey in front of the others, what the hell will?]

[ thankfully, it doesn't take roberto and meryl long to be on board with the plan. their makeshift campsite is just as easily cleared away -- canteens and supplies gathered back up, sand kicked over the fire, the truck packed with everything they brought with them.

it's a quiet ride, but vash doesn't mind. it's good just to be able to press himself up against wolfwood's side in the backseat, their hands still clasped together. trying to reassure himself that wolfwood is still warm, living, whole -- that vash can feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing from their proximity, can soak in the warmth of his skin. it doesn't take it all away, but it blunts the worst of the edges. enough to let vash keep it together for a little while longer.

they run into a bit of a complication once they've arrived at the town and are ready to make tracks for the inn -- wolfwood's clothes are a ruin, and there's too much blood smeared on his skin and matted into his hair to be able to rinse off with one of the canteens. but, after a moment, vash shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around wolfwood instead, tugging the hood up to cover his hair. the jacket's big on vash, but wolfwood is swimming in it, and something about the sight makes vash's chest ache. he wants to wrap both arms tightly around him, he wants to make a bunch of stupid promises he can't keep. he bites the inside of his cheek instead, offers to go see about food and water while the rest of them handle getting rooms for the night. (gently waves off wolfwood's attempt to go with him, points out that people are more likely to do business with a guy if he doesn't have a buddy covered in blood and gore dogging his heels.)

it's quick work, tracking down what they need. refilling the canteens, scoring a plate of hot sandwiches from the older woman working behind the bar. and then, turning up the charm and not afraid to look pitiful, vash hits her with a story about his friend being mugged in the last town they visited, asks her if she's got a change of clothes he could pay her for. vash knows he must look like a mess -- dirty, bedraggled, dark circles under his eyes; it's obvious she feels bad for him, and that pays off. so, when she offers him a set of her son's clothing that vash thinks is roughly about wolfwood's size -- dark jeans and a long-sleeved henley -- she won't even hear of taking payment for them. (if it was for himself, vash would probably feel guilty about the charity, but if it's for wolfwood, he's willing to do almost anything.)

so it isn't long before he's able to head to the inn. knocking on roberto and meryl's door as he settles some of the sandwiches and one of the canteens outside, then crossing the hall to the room he's sharing with wolfwood. ]

Hey. [ trying to keep his voice light. easy. unbothered. ] Found you some new clothes. Not your usual style, but they're not covered in blood, so...

[ unloading the contents of his arms onto the bed. canteen, food, clothes. ] You think you're okay to shower off?

Probably.

[ He could stand up in there, hose off. The damage is healed, and blood loss never really keeps him down for long once he's all patched up - whatever's in those little vials seems to get the juice pumping as well, tops off whatever's emptied out of his tank. But he aches in places that really aren't anything to do with the wounds that are covered over now, that he knows will have healed tidy enough that you might not even know they used to be bullet holes to look at them once the blood's off them. He wants to be close with Vash, to hold him and have Vash hold him in return. He just.. knows Vash might not be up for that. The time he's had to himself while Vash ran around taking care of everyone was just enough to start worrying that some damn fool ideas have taken hold in Vash's heart. Thoughts about getting too close, and where that gets you.

He makes it a suggestion, rather than a request. ]

Wouldn't say not to company. Do our bit to conserve water, and all.

[ The showers are usually on a timer in all but the fanciest places, but the offer's there. ]

[ the yes that tries to tumble out of him is immediate, but vash bites down on the inside of his cheek to stifle it. he wants to. wants to help rinse off all the blood, wants to put his hands on wolfwood until he can convince himself that he's really okay. wants to hold him, skin against skin, and is desperate to have wolfwood hold him in return.

but vash knows he shouldn't. wolfwood's been telling him all along, you make me a better person, and look where that had almost gotten him. it's... the first time vash has ever had to confront the potential consequences like this, seen them applied to someone else and begun to stumble over whether it's a price worth paying.

and there's the other matter at hand -- if he takes the offer to go shower off, there'll be no hiding his injuries. wolfwood'll worry, or worse, feel guilty (like vash wouldn't take a hundred times worse for him without a thought).

he should turn him down. stay here, see what he can do about some hasty first-aid while wolfwood is gone. it's why he freezes up for a long moment, breaking eye contact and shifting his weight from foot to foot. he should say no. he knows it.

... but, instead, voice small: ] ... okay.

Thanks.

[ Because this time, he doesn't need well-honed perception to note the hesitation, or how small Vash sounds when he agrees. It's not a good match for him; tall and beautiful. Wolfwood likes it best when his voice is confident, happy. Even better than when it's pleading for release. But he'll take it; scoops up the clothes in one hand and Vash's hand in the other, leads him into the bathroom.

At least that's a private one, instead of shared. It means the place is at least middlingly pricey, and he's glad he has cash stashed in a variety of places instead of just carrying it all on his person - although he hasn't met a place on Gunsmoke yet that won't take money because it's bloodstained.

The way to do it, he figures, is to act like it's normal. Not like this is weird, but not like the times they've torn the clothes off each other in the rush to be wet and naked together either. He cranks the water, sets aside the clean gear - no underwear, he notes, so he'll be going commando for a little while at least - and sheds the bloodstained, ruined suit right there on the floor. They can throw it out together later. It'll be cathartic. By the time he's done the water's as warm as he's willing to let it get without risking a cutoff, so he steps in. The sigh he gives at the feeling of it sluicing away top layers of blood and grime isn't even for show. ]

Hot water, soap. Only one thing I'm missing for this to be perfect. Get your lanky ass in here, Tongari.

[ wolfwood strips off those ruined clothes, and it's a relief all its own just to see them go. the other man is acting like this is normal, easy -- like it's any number of times they've crowded under the same shower spray together. not even waiting to see if vash is going to strip down, and...

it helps.

it still takes a second for vash to actually talk himself into it, another to coax his hands to get the process started. finally stripping his shirt off over his head, making equally quick work of the rest of his clothing before he edges his way underneath the shower spray. at least most of the bleeding has stopped -- there's still a sluggish trickle from two of the bullet holes in his stomach, but the other four have long-since closed over and started the process of healing. the rest are just an assortment of scrapes and bruises; easier for his body to deal with, likely gone by morning.

he hovers for another long moment, almost like he's afraid to reach out and touch him. but finally, tentatively, he cards his fingers into the other man's hair -- helping work the hot water into it to rinse out the matted blood, feeling something ease just a little inside of himself at the sight of it sluicing easily away. ]

[ It's fucking healing. Not like the drugs, sure, but Vash cards his fingers into Wolfwood's hair and something in him comes free from where it's been bound up tight. He tips into the touch, lets his eyes fall closed, hums softly. It's good. Good enough that he'll let the bullet wounds lie for now, just loops his arms around Vash's waist and lets himself sink into it.

There's been A Conversation on the horizon for a while now and it's looming closer than ever, but for now that touch is sweet, Vash's proximity is bliss, and he means to let himself enjoy it. ]

Feel better already. There's nothing like being clean.

[ it's a relief, and vash finally lets himself breathe. he knows that wolfwood must sense something is off, and there's no way he doesn't see the injuries, but he doesn't press it. just lets vash have this, wraps his arms around him and leans into him, and vash could almost cry with gratitude.

he doesn't! only because that would mostly ruin the whole gesture, and he doesn't want to spoil the moment wolfwood's gifting him. but it's obvious that he relaxes a little, some of the whipcord tension in his muscles easing as he lifts his other hand to help out with the task in front of him. water only does so much -- it isn't long before he goes for the soap, lathering it up before working it into wolfwood's hair, fingers rubbing firmly over his scalp. ]

Less likely to terrify anyone you run into, now. [ trying for light, falling just a little short, but that's okay. ] You looked pretty scary before.

[ It doesn't matter how shy of the mark Vash's jokes fall if he's going to rub Wolfwood's scalp like that. It's good, so good to feel something sweet like this after that pain and dark that he shivers with it. It's a lot - it's almost too much - but it's good, good, good, and he soaks it in. Snags some soap just so he has an excuse to stroke his hands over Vash in return even though Vash isn't nearly as grimy as him, skating carefully around the bullet wounds, mindful not to get soap in them even as he tries to act like they're not there.

It's the first time he's ever avoided any of Vash's scars, and once they're all healed they'll be just the same as the rest - as at-risk of being stroked or kissed over as the rest of Vash - but for now, it feels important. ]

I bet. Thought about looking in the mirror while you were out, but I decided against it.

Good thing I already locked you in. I'd hate to risk sending you running.

[ it's a joke, it has to be, but it's still enough to make vash flinch. it shouldn't be a surprise that wolfwood can read him, but sometimes vash forgets -- he's used to being able to deflect most people with a smile, but wolfwood's always seen right through it from the start.

he could probably edge back away from the topic; vash gets the feeling that wolfwood would let him. but he leans into the other man's hands on his body, and after a long moment: ]

... you might be better off.

No.

[ Eyes still closed, hands still moving in a motion that's much more stroking than it is cleaning, baut he loops them back around for a moment just to hold him. ]

I was dying. Knew it. I'm ready for that. I've known since the Eye first put me in the field that I wasn't going to die an old man. The thing that got to me was that I couldn't tell you what you mean to me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm leaving solving problems without violence to you from here out. But the thing that scared me most was knowing what I'd be leaving behind.

[ it’s enough to make vash shiver, even despite the heat of the water. and he leans himself into wolfwood like he’s trying to make himself smaller, tucking his face into the crook of the other man’s neck and shoulder. ]

… I don’t want to lose you. [ nearly choking on the words, clutching at him. ] I can’t.

I don’t want to make you a better person if it means —

And I don't wanna leave you behind.

[ It's horrible, but it feels better this way. It's hard, but it's honest. He bows his head against Vash's, just holds him. What's the point of trying to live his life in a way that won't cause Vash pain if it means letting it end, causing Vash more pain, giving up whatever future they have? ]

I wanna be selfish. I want more time with you.

[ it’s a relief not to have to be the one to ask for it. wolfwood deserves to be true to himself, and the world deserves a wolfwood that lets his good heart lead him, but. if that means vash has to lose him? everything in him pushes back selfishly against it. ]

I don’t want to be the reason something happens to you. [ a full-body shudder, a little twitch of his natural hand, the one that can still feel wolfwood’s blood gushing out over it. ] And if you stay, I know —

… but when I think about asking you to leave, trying to make you, I — [ he drops his face into wolfwood’s shoulder, arms tightening around him. swallowing hard past the barbed lump in his throat. ] I don’t know what to do.

[ That conversation that's been looming?

It's here.

Because Vash says if you stay like he thinks there's a choice in that. Wolfwood had tried to leave the system that made him what he is in the most dramatic way possible, and being sent to keep Vash alive was shocking for how light a punishment it was. He's with Vash by choice now, sure, but leaving would only hasten his death.

Well, it'd hasten the decision to kill him. He's pretty confident the dying part would be plenty slow. ]

How'm I lookin? Clean enough for civilized company?

'cause there are some things I probably need to tell you.

[ it’s not what he’s expecting, and it’s enough to jar vash (momentarily) back out of his own head. so he blinks, loosens his hold so he can pull back and take a look, tries for a smile. (maybe there’s a sniffle and maybe his eyes are wet, but he’s got his brave face on!) ]

Yeah. Less likely to make little kids burst into tears at the sight of you, I think. [ unwinding his arms from wolfwood the rest of the way, even though that means having to convince them that, yes, he’s sure he wants to let go. ]

[ Well, if he's less bloody now, that at least gives him an opening to do what he's been wanting to do since he opened his eyes. Tips his face up and kisses Vash on the mouth, a sweet, soft little press. ]

Thanks for cleaning me up.

[ So much more than that. Thanks for saving him, thanks for being tender with him, thanks for being someone he wants to be tender with in return. He steps out of the shower, content to leave Vash in there to make the most of it or follow as he likes. Towels off and starts to dress - the clothes are actually a really good fit. Except for this shirt, which is a shade tight, and - ]

Thing's strangling me.

[ He undoes the little buttons on the front. That's better. ]

[ a few minutes ago, vash would have probably ducked away from that kiss. agonized over whether or not it’s something should accept, something he deserves in the face of being half the reason wolfwood nearly died. but something in him has eased enough for him to lean into it when it happens, soaking up the comfort from it like wolfwood has wrapped him in a warm, familiar blanket.

and, hmm. if he’d been thinking ahead enough, it probably would have been smart to drag his bag in here with them. his medkit is in there, and he could have taken the chance to dig out the bullets and slap on some bandages. and maybe he still could, but…

there’s a part of him that feels like a puppy that’s desperate to trot along at wolfwood’s heels in the hope of getting pets.

so! following him out, making quick work of toweling himself off and digging out some clean clothes. and then he plops down on the edge of the bed, offering up another little grin. ]

Not complaining about the view. [ a fidget, and then: ] C’mere? [ holding out both arms, inviting wolfwood into a seat on his lap. ]

[ Maybe he should have added this to his little list of thanks, too. Wolfwood's pretty sure he hasn't sat in anyone's lap since he was about two, and it's a treat that Vash is both tall enough to make that happen and someone whose lap he'd like to sit in. So he climbs on, careful not to press up against Vash's wounded stomach but winding his arms around him, grazing his lips against Vash's cheek. ]

I'm not gonna tell you not to worry. I worry about you all the time. But that whole mess gave me plenty on time to think, and all I could think about was how unfair it was that I couldn't tell you how much I love you before I went.

I'm not gonna put myself in that situation again.

[ that’s good. like this, vash can wrap his arms around wolfwood and pretend it’ll be enough to keep him safe, leech comfort from the other man’s weight and warmth. smoothing a hand down wolfwood’s back, just appreciating that he’s still able to touch a wolfwood who’s warm and alive.

but that last bit makes him huff out a little laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss against wolfwood’s forehead. ]

You tell me all the time. [ which isn’t a complaint — vash can never get enough! ] It’s not like you let me doubt it.

Yeah, but -

[ He laughs, and it's quiet, but genuine. ]

No impossible promises, so I'm not promising. But I wanna stick around and do what I can to help make a world where the last time I tell you I love you is when I'm a crusty old man getting taken out by Father Time, not an idiot with a gun. That'd be my ideal.

[ there’s still a touch of bittersweet in the smile, but it’s a real one. it’ll still mean losing wolfwood, being asked to keep going despite his absence, but. it’ll also mean being there to see him live a long, full (and hopefully happy) life, which is still a gift worth appreciating.

vash reaches up to cup wolfwood’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking affectionately over his cheekbones. ] I’d like to see that, too. I bet you’ll still look good with wrinkles.

Bet your ass I will.

[ He smiles, nuzzled slightly into the cup of Vash's hands before he breaks that gentle hold to press a soft, lingering kiss against his lips.

This is nice.

Time to ruin it. ]

That's why I can't leave or let you go. [ It's... hard to think of a way to say this without sounding like the kind of person who tries to guilt someone into staying by theatening to kill themselves. That's not it, not at all, but it cuts so close it's almost unbearable. ] If you decide you're through with me I'll respect your wishes, but I'll still follow you. The only thing I hate more than the idea of not having more time with you is the thought of you thinking my blood is on your hands.

[ the kiss is nice! it doesn’t soften what comes next, but vash still appreciates it for what it is.

but the smile falters. his hands drop from wolfwood’s face to his shoulders, breaking off eye contact and chewing at the inside of his lip. ]

… I know. [ it comes out sounding miserable. ] The people who sent you after me… they wouldn’t give you this much free reign unless they thought they have you on a pretty good leash, right? I thought, at first, maybe you were just loyal, but… [ he rubs absently at his temple with the heel of his hand, trying to soothe the threatening headache there. ] After what happened on the sand steamer, things made more sense.

[ that person, livio, was someone wolfwood wanted to protect. but based on the way he’d been able to turn on a gun on him, he isn’t the only one. ]

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