[ He feels the collapse coming – how could he not, with the way the man is shaking? with all he's been though? – and leans in as Wolfwood folds, shifting his grip around him to better support his weight. He can feel every beat of Wolfwood's heart as though it's pounding in his own chest, and it's strong. It's so wonderfully strong – there's no sign of the horrifying regeneration vial's work in that steady pulse. Wolfwood is alive, and healthy, and solid and real, this isn't a dream, this isn't an illusion, he's real. He's here. He almost died on the ark and he did die just an hour – or two years – ago, but there's no denying the reality of the body in his arms.
For one terrifying moment the whole world sways around them, and Vash's grip tightens hard around Wolfwood to stop them both from falling. He's exhausted, he notes dimly, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Wolfwood's head. He's been pushing himself all day, and now, finally, with his heart back where it belongs, all the little wants of his body come rushing to the surface, demanding sleep, food. Honesty.
All the things that he didn't say before, all the things that he couldn't say are stuck in the back of his throat, a choking mass of regret and grief that he doesn't dare release. Vash turns his face into all that dark hair, burying himself in the scent and warmth of his dearest, closest friend, and tries to remember how to breathe.
There's still too much to do – he can't stop yet. Once he lets go of Wolfwood he'll have to start moving again, will have to head back out into the world and find Knives, will have to throw himself against that impossible mass of power and spend what energy he has left bringing it to a halt. He'd always thought that, when the time came, Wolfwood would be there will him, fighting at his side, but now? How could he do what needs to be done if he's worried about Wolfwood the whole time? How could he possibly risk losing him again? Twice now he's thought Wolfwood dying, or dead... how can he endure that loss a third time? He has to protect this man. He has to keep him safe.
Vash doesn't even notice when the feathers along his shoulders and back erupt in long graceful lines, wrapping so gently around himself and Wolfwood, shielding them from the rest of the world. ]
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For one terrifying moment the whole world sways around them, and Vash's grip tightens hard around Wolfwood to stop them both from falling. He's exhausted, he notes dimly, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Wolfwood's head. He's been pushing himself all day, and now, finally, with his heart back where it belongs, all the little wants of his body come rushing to the surface, demanding sleep, food. Honesty.
All the things that he didn't say before, all the things that he couldn't say are stuck in the back of his throat, a choking mass of regret and grief that he doesn't dare release. Vash turns his face into all that dark hair, burying himself in the scent and warmth of his dearest, closest friend, and tries to remember how to breathe.
There's still too much to do – he can't stop yet. Once he lets go of Wolfwood he'll have to start moving again, will have to head back out into the world and find Knives, will have to throw himself against that impossible mass of power and spend what energy he has left bringing it to a halt. He'd always thought that, when the time came, Wolfwood would be there will him, fighting at his side, but now? How could he do what needs to be done if he's worried about Wolfwood the whole time? How could he possibly risk losing him again? Twice now he's thought Wolfwood dying, or dead... how can he endure that loss a third time? He has to protect this man. He has to keep him safe.
Vash doesn't even notice when the feathers along his shoulders and back erupt in long graceful lines, wrapping so gently around himself and Wolfwood, shielding them from the rest of the world. ]