spent twenty years trying to get out of this place

[anthophilia]

[ Taking Vash to the orphanage has gotta be one of his best ideas of all time.

He’d warned Vash on the way over that the kids can be wary of strangers. That it’s not like in old movies where every adult who comes in is a potential parent and everyone’s on their best behaviour, hoping to make themselves seem like a good choice. That they test people, they can be withdrawn or outright rude, that some of them probably won’t even look at him. Because more than they remember the kids who were there and got adopted, they remember the tiny handful who got adopted and came back, quieter now, feeling like there must be something wrong with them, something that makes them bad, and they learned too soon that sometimes it’s better never to have something than to have it and lose it. But they’d arrived and there’d been the usual cries of Nico! Nico’s here! and they’d clustered around, and the kids had known exactly what Nick had known: it didn’t take more than a minute to know Vash was good.

As predicted, they’d asked if Vash was his boyfriend. Well, they’d told him. Oooh, Nico’s got a boooyfrieeend, and he’d just looped his arm around Vash’s waist and said yep. A good one, and they’d gone nuts for approximately 30 seconds before dragging Vash off for a guided tour of the bedrooms, the rec room, the animals - a couple dogs who loved Vash just as much as the kids do, the chickens who are so used to little hands that they’ll wander right up for pets.

Best of all had been Theresa. Seven years old, still full of childlike innocence but old enough now to be wary of her differences, to know how cruel the world can be, used to new adults giving her a tight smile and saying hello, sweetheart before their eyes slid right off her, unwilling to look at the prominent scar on her face. She’d been quiet as usual for a good chunk of the morning, but when they’d all sat down for lunch and a small round of bickering broke out about who got to sit next to Vash, she’d skipped the queue with the determined and slightly stilted gait her prosthetic leg gave her and claimed her place at his side.

Nick’d had to excuse himself to go get an extra pitcher of water for the table just to avoid pissing her off with the gooey look on his face.

Later, there’d been games, the kids laughing delightedly as Vash and Nick followed along with little dancing animated characters and then absolutely destroying their scores. Reading, which Nick used as an excuse to show off a little. The Big Bad Wolf got a Clint Eastwood drawl, the three little pigs developed a tendency to call each other pardner, and in a new twist ending Little Red Riding Hood showed up armed with a six-shooter, scared the wolf away for good, and was made sheriff of New Pork. When it was time to leave and the kids tried to make Nick promise to bring Vash next time Nick said he would if he hadn’t scared him off by then, and Theresa deployed the savagery of a child with a good vocabulary and slightly lesser social skills by turning to Vash and saying you know where it is now. You can come without him.

Then as promised, Nick takes Vash to the chapel. It’s small; it doesn’t need to be big, because thankfully the orphanage is never quite full. It’s pretty, though, and built with children in mind. Low pews for little legs at the front, and the stained-glass window is a lamb slumbering peacefully in an emerald field, a lion’s face making the sun in the sky, framed in red roses that are the only visible reference to thorns - no crucifixes here, because Catholic as they may be someone apparently put their foot down about scaring the kids. There’s a little confessional but it’s seldom used; the kids aren’t required to go in there at all, and at least in Nick’s days it was primarily a place to hide and make out. Or other things – Nick’s at least 75% sure he’s the reason there’s a smoke detector in there now. And of course, the little shelves with their little candles, flickering in their jars. It’s probably not the done thing to have open flames anymore, but when your whole organization is dedicated to making a place of peace and healing for children who’ve lost everyone, sometimes tradition is important.

Nick slips his hand into Vash’s as they enter, and he can’t quite hide his affection for the place. He may be very, very lapsed, but good memories last. ]

Huh. I haven’t been in here for years, but it hasn’t changed. Feels like I’m a kid again.

Comments

[spiculatus]

[ three days is not enough time to know someone before you start dropping the l-bomb on them.

vash knows this! he might not have a wealth of personal experience when it comes to long-term romantic or sexual relationships, but that rule is mostly just common sense. (and he likes to think that listening to meryl complain about her various partners over the years kinda counts in his favor.)

but watching wolfwood with the kids at the orphanage? vash is having to remind himself not to blurt the word out at least fifteen times an hour.

he's soft with them. it's even more obvious that his gruffness is just for show; he lets himself get dragged into silly games and made the butt of more than one joke (and yeah, vash can see the grumpy cat resemblance), and even if he grumbles or protests, it's obvious the kids have learned not to take any of it seriously. it's like they've all adopted him as the de facto big brother, and vash can tell he takes pride in the role.

(and if it's too early to tell someone you love them, it's definitely too early to be wondering what it'd be like to have kids with them, but.)

and the kids themselves? awesome. wolfwood had warned him that they might not warm up to him right away, and vash was prepared to take it on the chin, but it had only taken about thirty seconds for them to swarm him. he blames at least a little of his newfound popularity on the prosthetic arm -- and the fact that he's willing to sit cross-legged and patient in the middle of a whole crowd of kids, answering their questions as best as he can and letting them poke and prod at the arm as much as they want. (and later, when wolfwood asks him for a hand with something, vash gambles on his knowledge of little kid humor, disconnects the prosthetic at the wrist, and passes that off to him instead. the ensuing shrieks of laughter were absolutely worth the slightly traumatized look on wolfwood's face.)

all in all? it was a blast of an afternoon, and he's already got schemes in place to make sure wolfwood brings him again. (not in the least because he'd noticed the way theresa limps on her prosthetic, and he can already feel the itch in his head to start tweaking and making improvements.) but it's an equal relief to finally get a little bit of quiet, and vash is happy to intertwine their fingers with a little squeeze as wolfwood takes his hand. ]

Just because of the location, or because you used to sneak people in here to get some alone time? [ angling a little grin over at wolfwood. he remembers what being a teenager was like! ]