[ Wolfwood. His senses are full of the man, blocking out all the rest of the world. Here, safe in Wolfwood's arms there's no more war, no more suffering plants or starving humans. No more fear for his little brother, or fear of his older one. No more worry about Livio, or Luida. No more anxiousness over the fate of Meryl, and Milly, or the thousands of others all across the planet whose lives had been threatened while he'd been held captive. None of that mattered -- none of that was here. There was nothing but Wolfwood, nothing but Nicholas, strong and sturdy and his and here.
Wolfwood was pulled away, and with a low growl Vash tightened his grip, feathers spreading out around them into a protective dome. This man was his, and nobody could take him away again! His friend. His partner.
Wolfwood, so much younger, burnt by the suns and grinning ferociously, with his hand on Vash's face like they were old friends, Everyone's damn dumb and Vash's heart skipped a beat.
Long hair in his face, dragged into the bar by a furious Lina, and there at the counter like a ghost is a man he'd never thought to see again. He can't stop staring, stumbles, and is rewarded with an impatient kick in the ass by the child at his side, who doesn't understand that she's about to lose her friend forever.
In the med bay, the lights far too bright, and there in the bed next to him is a body that's lying so still. Wolfwood should never look that pale, and it's all his fault from bringing him here. It's all his fault for leading Emilio back here. It's all his fault...
A nowhere bar in a nameless town, the table sticky and the lights dim. He pours the last of the bottle into Wolfwood's glass. The man's eyes in the low light are dark and deep like the view out the ship's windows, and Vash falls into them, forgetting the rest of the story he was telling, the words trailing away like smoke.
Pinned beneath Legato's power, exhausted beyond what he thought his body could endure, his sleep fitful, interrupted constantly by nightmares, both from his captors and, more terrifyingly, from his own mind. Wolfwood's voice in the distance at first sounds like the start of another nightmare and Vash trembles against the coming pain. But then the door explodes open, Legato's hold on him dropping just for a second, and Vash remembers how to hope again.
Waiting on a rooftop for the ridiculous criminals in the street below to be escorted off to jail, Wolfwood behind him, his gun aimed at Vash's head. He's scared this man so badly, driven him to this point, and he can't think of any apology he could make other than holding still and letting Wolfwood decide what he needs to do.
Here's one for you, and one for you, and this last one is for me. The man they pulled out of a sand dune, with hardly a penny to his name, crass and reeking of gunpowder, kneeling down in front of two homeless kids and giving them everything he's got, his face so open and young and beautiful that Vash can't help but stare.
I want to spend all my tomorrows with him.
Wolfwood slumps on the stained old couch, confetti stuck in his hair, and Vash can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't...
Around a tiny campfire, Knives's fortress looming in the distance. Tomorrow he faces his brother, and as he looks past the flickering chemical fire, he can't think of anyone he'd rather share this last night with than the man smoking quietly next to him. ]
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Wolfwood was pulled away, and with a low growl Vash tightened his grip, feathers spreading out around them into a protective dome. This man was his, and nobody could take him away again! His friend. His partner.
Wolfwood, so much younger, burnt by the suns and grinning ferociously, with his hand on Vash's face like they were old friends, Everyone's damn dumb and Vash's heart skipped a beat.
Long hair in his face, dragged into the bar by a furious Lina, and there at the counter like a ghost is a man he'd never thought to see again. He can't stop staring, stumbles, and is rewarded with an impatient kick in the ass by the child at his side, who doesn't understand that she's about to lose her friend forever.
In the med bay, the lights far too bright, and there in the bed next to him is a body that's lying so still. Wolfwood should never look that pale, and it's all his fault from bringing him here. It's all his fault for leading Emilio back here. It's all his fault...
A nowhere bar in a nameless town, the table sticky and the lights dim. He pours the last of the bottle into Wolfwood's glass. The man's eyes in the low light are dark and deep like the view out the ship's windows, and Vash falls into them, forgetting the rest of the story he was telling, the words trailing away like smoke.
Pinned beneath Legato's power, exhausted beyond what he thought his body could endure, his sleep fitful, interrupted constantly by nightmares, both from his captors and, more terrifyingly, from his own mind. Wolfwood's voice in the distance at first sounds like the start of another nightmare and Vash trembles against the coming pain. But then the door explodes open, Legato's hold on him dropping just for a second, and Vash remembers how to hope again.
Waiting on a rooftop for the ridiculous criminals in the street below to be escorted off to jail, Wolfwood behind him, his gun aimed at Vash's head. He's scared this man so badly, driven him to this point, and he can't think of any apology he could make other than holding still and letting Wolfwood decide what he needs to do.
Here's one for you, and one for you, and this last one is for me. The man they pulled out of a sand dune, with hardly a penny to his name, crass and reeking of gunpowder, kneeling down in front of two homeless kids and giving them everything he's got, his face so open and young and beautiful that Vash can't help but stare.
I want to spend all my tomorrows with him.
Wolfwood slumps on the stained old couch, confetti stuck in his hair, and Vash can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't...
Around a tiny campfire, Knives's fortress looming in the distance. Tomorrow he faces his brother, and as he looks past the flickering chemical fire, he can't think of anyone he'd rather share this last night with than the man smoking quietly next to him. ]