Vash was used to fear. He could feel the tension in the air every time someone recognized him, the way it tingled with it and made the area impossible to be comfortable. But he made no comments on it when that same tingling managed to finally filter through the buzzing in his brain. He was too tired to bother, at this point, the man could feel whatever way he wanted, so long as he didn't cause any actual trouble. He was used to dealing with stubborn, obstinate assholes, anyway.

Not that this man was anywhere near as tolerable as Wolfwood had been.

Ok, so maybe he was feeling a bit churlish. He sighed as he fumbled with the door handle, giving a tiny, swaying shake of his fist in victory when he found that they had been left unlocked, and held it open, turning back to watch the man staring up at the moons. And then down at Wolfwood's grave.

"Just...get inside. Please." He really was too tired to argue. He turned to walk inside, leaving the door open to search for a light switch that rested just inside the doorway on the wall. There was a tiny, half-hearted "'Eyyyyy..." of satisfaction when the overheads came on with a sputter, drawing on whatever power was left in the batteries storing the electricity shipped in from December's not-yet-returned energy Plant. And then he was turning to glance around the room, hoping that a first aid kit was stored in the kitchen the back door opened up to. Surely they had one here, right? Armies of children and kitchens sometimes required first aid kits. They wouldn't have put that somewhere else, would they?

The question from outside, faint as it was, took a moment to get through his mind, and when it registered, he sighed audibly, his shoulders drooping at the mentions of "feathers." He really didn't want to talk about that day, wouldn't have even if the fog over his memories hadn't clouded them and made it hard to remember exact details. But...at least he did remember what happened to Hoppered.

And...Legato...

Really asking the hard-hitting questions, wasn't he?

"Hoppered is dead. I buried him in a grave next to yours." Because that was the easy answer. But oh. Wait...his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed at a thought, he blinked slowly, trying to grasp onto it and hold it before the buzz made it float away, and he turned to give the man a little frown through the doorway. "I mean...he was dead the last time I saw him, but so were you, so..."

And that was an uncomfortable thought. Was he going to have to start checking graves, now? Going back to see if people he'd put in the ground were coming back up? People he cared about, people who'd tried to kill him. There were so many bodies. He could probably remember a good number of where those graves were, if he put his mind to it.

"Why aren't you dead, anyway???" The bewildered look on his face shifted almost immediately to something a bit more guilty, and he grimaced at himself. "Ok, that...was shitty. Sorry."

But was he, though?

Ok, no, he was, even if his drunk brain was letting some of this darker thoughts claw their way to the surface, now that it was too addled to restrain them properly. He shook his head, reaching up under his sunglasses to rub the spot between his eyes, and when he continued with a flippant wave of his fingers, he kept his eyes closed as he tried to keep his thoughts in line through sheer force of will.

"Legato is dead, too. You are literally the only one still alive from my brother's team. As far as I know. Everyone is gone. 'Cept me and..." No. Best not mention the girls. Not that it wouldn't be hard to find out about their continued existence, now that they were television reporters. But the longer he let them go unmentioned and therefore safe, the better. "The Plants."

Yeah. That worked.