[ Don’t cry, Wolfwood murmurs, and no, he’s not crying. There’s tears running down his face, his chest hurts so badly he can’t breathe, but he’s not crying. This is joy, not grief. Wolfwood holds his arms out and while he can't quite manage to get himself to move, all Vash can think about is stepping forward, leaning into that embrace, burying his face in Wolfwood’s throat and breathing the man in until everything makes sense again. He needs to touch him, has to feel for himself that the figure standing there is real, solid, and not just a desperate vision. It would be the easiest thing in the world to give up and close the space between himself and Wolfwood, to just let go, let himself fall, to just scream until the ball of terror in his chest finally tore loose and he could be free of its choking weight. He died on that couch too, he thinks, and his heart doesn’t remember how to beat anymore -- if he holds it to Wolfwood’s, if they can fall into sync again, then maybe he too can come back to life? Vash sways a little on the balls of his feet, hands heavy at his sides, unable to move forward but unwilling to step away. He…
Vash! Kni’s voice breaks through the haze of loss and what-ifs and snaps him back into reality. He turns to his brother with a jerk, body moving long before his mind realizes what’s happening. His vision is a blur, Kni just a smear of light next to something familiar and red, and Vash scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand until he can see again, because his brother needs him. Because no matter what happens, no matter what miracles he gets to bear witness to, his brother will always be his first priority. Always.
But all Kni needs is his attention, and his promise. You have one hour! he commands, standing there somehow holding another Vash’s hand. Don’t leave!, and Vash, still dazed, nods in agreement. There’s another him. He won’t leave, no, he’s already promised that he wouldn’t, but there’s another him. Wolfwood is alive, and there’s another him? But then Kni sticks out his tongue at Wolfwood, and the tension breaks so thoroughly that Vash sways with it. His relieved laugh sounds a little unhinged, and little too loud, even to his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care. It feels like approval, of this human who Vash can’t tear his eyes away from. It feels like acceptance.
He smiles hesitantly at the other him, with the strange coat and the beautiful green hand -- hello, friend -- but Kni is already leading that other version of himself away. Giving him space. Protecting him, even now.
And then it’s just him and Wolfwood. …Or is it a Wolfwood?
Now that Vash can breathe again, now that the initial whirlwind of grief and shock has passed through him, he can finally see the little differences between the Wolfwood he last saw an hour or so ago, and the one standing before him. This Wolfwood didn’t just come from a fight. His suit isn’t pockmarked with holes and stained with his own blood. He’s not… it’s not the same. Wherever he’s from -- whenever he’s from -- he’s not the man Vash just watched die. Is he? Just like Kni is his brother, but different, just like that other version of him isn’t him, this cigar smoking Wolfwood is Wolfwood, but he’s also somebody else. He’s somebody else’s.
But he’s still alive.
Vash would never insult Wolfwood -- any Wolfwood -- with one of his fake smiles, but real anger? It’s that or tears, and if he starts crying he’ll never ever stop, so anger it is. ]
Nicholas D. Wolfwood, I am so mad at you!
[ Leaving in the middle of the night to go and get himself killed! What was he thinking?! ]
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Vash! Kni’s voice breaks through the haze of loss and what-ifs and snaps him back into reality. He turns to his brother with a jerk, body moving long before his mind realizes what’s happening. His vision is a blur, Kni just a smear of light next to something familiar and red, and Vash scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand until he can see again, because his brother needs him. Because no matter what happens, no matter what miracles he gets to bear witness to, his brother will always be his first priority. Always.
But all Kni needs is his attention, and his promise. You have one hour! he commands, standing there somehow holding another Vash’s hand. Don’t leave!, and Vash, still dazed, nods in agreement. There’s another him. He won’t leave, no, he’s already promised that he wouldn’t, but there’s another him. Wolfwood is alive, and there’s another him? But then Kni sticks out his tongue at Wolfwood, and the tension breaks so thoroughly that Vash sways with it. His relieved laugh sounds a little unhinged, and little too loud, even to his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care. It feels like approval, of this human who Vash can’t tear his eyes away from. It feels like acceptance.
He smiles hesitantly at the other him, with the strange coat and the beautiful green hand -- hello, friend -- but Kni is already leading that other version of himself away. Giving him space. Protecting him, even now.
And then it’s just him and Wolfwood. …Or is it a Wolfwood?
Now that Vash can breathe again, now that the initial whirlwind of grief and shock has passed through him, he can finally see the little differences between the Wolfwood he last saw an hour or so ago, and the one standing before him. This Wolfwood didn’t just come from a fight. His suit isn’t pockmarked with holes and stained with his own blood. He’s not… it’s not the same. Wherever he’s from -- whenever he’s from -- he’s not the man Vash just watched die. Is he? Just like Kni is his brother, but different, just like that other version of him isn’t him, this cigar smoking Wolfwood is Wolfwood, but he’s also somebody else. He’s somebody else’s.
But he’s still alive.
Vash would never insult Wolfwood -- any Wolfwood -- with one of his fake smiles, but real anger? It’s that or tears, and if he starts crying he’ll never ever stop, so anger it is. ]
Nicholas D. Wolfwood, I am so mad at you!
[ Leaving in the middle of the night to go and get himself killed! What was he thinking?! ]