On The First Day

[nml_mods]

It had been months.

Months of terror, of families ripped apart, refugees racing against the Ark in the sky, against the Plants that had once been their only source of survival on the world and had now been turned against them, raining lightning and death down on them like the hand of a vengeful God. Humanity pushed to the brink, fleeing their homes and communities, waves of refugees fleeing across the sands as more and more towns and cities fell to the reign of destruction that had been biting at their heels every step of the way.

And then, as the last descendants of the survivors of the Big Fall clustered in the city of Octovern, spiilling out into the streets, every available, livable space filled to capacity and beyond, what felt like the final days of humanity began. The sounds of artillery fire filled the air, the sight of the Ark and its grotesque ruler loomed overhead, and in the distant sky high above, the previously-inconceivable reinforcement ships from Earth took up orbit around No Man's Land. Throughout the night, explosions lit up the sky, thundering with deafening reports through the air, and yet the civilians below had settled into a still, terrified, anticipatory silence. They couldn't see, from their perspective, the figures atop the ruins of the Earth's space destroyers that had already fallen to the ground, locked in battle for the future of the people far below. But the sight of Millions Knives high above, terrifying and grotesque with the power of the Plants he had absorbed, was omnipresent, a never-ending threat, the harbinger of doom, biding his time until he could make good on his promise to wipe every last one of them off the face of existence.

And then something had changed.

Electrical currents rippled through the air above the downed ship, carrying screams on the wind. To the people below, Millions Knives' massive form had shifted, writhing, bellowing with unholy rage and pain and despair. And then it begun to unmake itself, shredding, crumbling, tearing itself apart at the seams and floating to the ground in tiny, shining, white particles. Tiny, white feathers drifted on the wind, closer and closer before, one by one, they began to settle to the roofs of the buildings, to the tops of cars and to the streets, and to the heads and faces of the humans staring up from below.

The instant that contact was made between feather and skin, a connection was made; between Human and Plant, between each person standing side by side, minds thrown open in bursts of light and expanding consciousness, and through the doors sprang multitudes of memories spanning hundreds of years. Suffering, laughter, pain, sorrow, joy, enslavement, death, pride, love. The Plants had made the connection to their creators - their keepers - that they had been silently pleading for since their first containment, and with it every man, woman, and child on the surface of the world began to see and feel and hear their stories and their cries for help. They did not want this war, they did not want this destruction. They had seen the promises of vengeance and a paradise for their kind atop the bones of humanity offered by Millions Knives and they had felt the hopes and dreams carried by Vash the Stampede of a kinder, more loving world, and they had made their choice.

Of course, but...what would he do at a time like this?

I wonder if he'll laugh again

I wonder if he'll follow his ideals again.

I see. You all know him as well. That young man with a gentle smile.

Little Red Brother.

Let there be love and peace in this world.

In the chaos that followed, as the bodies of the Plants began tumbling to the ground in a writhing mass and the screams of shock and confusion began to rise from the sea of humanity below, something rippled in the air, a last gasp of those silent voices before the connection was lost.

Help Us. Help him. Please.

This was...different. New. As if reality had taken the distraction caused by the calamity below to shift itself sharply to the left, and then snapped. It started at the core of the mass of angelic bodies as men and women began to rush to their aid, a shockwave in the fabric of creation that rumbled silently in the atoms of the world and ricocheted outward, along the ground, through the air, until it had enveloped the entire planet. Time froze for an instant, and to the eyes of all who had the capacity for sight, that leftward shift became manifest, the world doubling on itself as the ground shook beneath their feet.

Wails of confusion and fear rose into the night sky, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the world were about to unmake itself on the molecular level. But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the distortion snapped back into place with a loud, ear-splitting CRACK, and in the stunned silence that followed, only one thing could be certain; things were not the same as they had been mere moments ago, as if everything and yet nothing at all had changed, all at once.

The world of No Man's Land was as it should be, but all across the surface of the planet, pockets of reality had split open, sending the inhabitants of mirrored existences tumbling through wide, unseen rifts. People and places outside of time and space found themselves staggering to their feet in a world that was both foreign and familiar at the same time, found themselves face to face with their own reflection made flesh, tossed about by the pleas of a race reaching across the fabric of creation for aid in putting a stop to a war that had been fought time and time again, across reality after reality, without fail.


Thus began the new chapter in the history of No Man's Land.


[Wherever your character was, whatever they were doing, when the rifts in reality opened, they will have found themselves rocked by a massive earthquake that lastes a few short seconds before settling with a loud crack, like thunder. While no damage will be left in its wake, the characters themselves will realize that though the planet appears to be the same, it will quickly become evident that they are in an alternate reality of the place they call home. Are they standing in the rubble of a once-destroyed city now remade whole? Is the bar they had been taking refuge in suddenly gone, leaving them tumbling to the sand with nothing but their drink in their hand? And what of the friends that had been standing by their side seconds before? This is where your stories begin.]

Comments

[dontdeserve]

[ Vash's smile was unfailingly kind, even if his eyes were very, very tired. And worried. ]

There was another shake. I can't feel him anywhere in... December.

[ They would need to find him. Or at least Vash would. ]

You should have-- [ something to eat did not go well with the nauseated expression on the familiar, ish, face. ] A few sips of water, at least.

[love_and_peace]

[ I can’t feel him anywhere in December says the other Vash, and if Vash weren’t sitting the news would knock him down. He’d thought that the worst his gate could do was kill, but it turns out there’s other ways it can cause harm, isn’t there? There’s always another way that he can find to hurt those he cares for, those who are foolish enough to trust him.

His face hurts from smiling, but he can’t make it stop. ]

I didn’t mean for him to see any of that.

[ The other Vash can certainly feel the grief and guilt pouring off of him in waves, especially when his eye catches the Punisher leaning up against the far wall. Water? Food? No, what he needs is to be as far away from the people he loves as he can get, so that maybe, maybe he can stop hurting them. He needs to get out of here, needs to get to Octovern.

Needs to go fight his brother, one last time. ]

I’m sorry. [ There’s no tears this time, at least. Only his pathetically quavering voice and shaking hands. ] After all this time, I still can’t control it.

[dontdeserve]

[ After all this time, I still can't control it. Vash blinks, his awareness of what just transpired clarifying somewhat. And his left hand flexes, reflectively, as he looks down at the palm that no longer exists, not as it did back then.

Then his eyes snap back towards Vash. He knows that combination of feelings, and the urge, the need.

To run.

But he looks away again, still smiling, and his voice is soft. He is not judging. He can't believe it, but he won't judge. ]

After all that... are you really... can you really just leave him behind?

[love_and_peace]

[ The non sequitur comes as a surprise, if Vash’s wide-eyed expression is any clue. But then he remembers who he’s talking to, and that tight fake smile softens, just a little, into something more wry. That’s what he gets for talking to another Vash, isn’t it? He can’t be expected to keep anything from himself, even the things he doesn’t say out loud. ]

That makes me a hypocrite, doesn’t it? Wanting to leave. [ He swings those long legs over the edge of the bed, and grimaces slightly at the feel of grimy floor beneath his bare feet. Where are his shoes? …Ah, there. ] He left me, did you know that? [ The other Vash’s hair says that, no, he’s not there yet, and Vash hopes fervently that when his time comes to defend the orphanage from the Eye, his Wolfwood will make the right choice. They’ve always worked better as a team.

Two buckles to get off, thirty buckles to get back on -- he’ll be awhile getting his feet back into these boots. ]

He snuck out just before dawn, because after everything he’d done for me, he didn’t think protecting his home was important enough to bring me along. [ That was this dawn, this morning, and the pain -- and anger -- at being left behind isn’t something he can tamp down at all. Pain is most of what’s keeping him going at this point. ] So he came out here alone, and he died.

[ He pauses, hand on a buckle, to look up and meet the other Vash’s gaze. For a hundred and fifty years he’s been alone, and he fully expected to be alone for the rest of his life. Then he met Wolfwood. It was never going to last -- the road they’re both on isn’t a long one, and it’s got a bloody end -- but he still wasn’t ready for it to end so soon. He’s finally found love that isn’t a mother’s gentle care or a brother’s obsessive violence, and it hurts so much some days he can’t bear it. ]

I don’t want to leave him behind, but I won’t watch him die again.

[ December was the end of Wolfwood’s road, and Knives has always been the end of Vash’s. ]

I don’t know what to do.

[dontdeserve]

[ ...of all things, this made Vash think of all the people who have told him to think a little before he acts. It's somehow easier when he is looking from the sides. ]

Do you really think that leaving alone will prevent that? Because you know as well as I do that when he comes to himself, he'll go after you. And he will be reckless. And he will find you because that's what he does, but he will not be in the shape to survive.

[ And it will be horrible. ]

The only way to not watch him die again is to make sure you're both rested... And to go together. You're always better together.

[ Vash takes a deep breath, and by the way it shakes realizes he's trembling. ]

When he showed up. He was furious at himself that he let you stay with him and so put you in danger.

You two really should try to stop finding ways to break each other and be strong. Together. Since I'm not sure even I could be the kind of backup he can be for you. And you for him.

[love_and_peace]

[ Vash listens as his other self speaks, fingers clumsy with exhaustion working each buckle of his boots in turn. The other Vash is right – if he leaves, Wolfwood will follow, and the end of that story is a bad one. But will it really end better if they're both together? Knives is a force of nature at this point, fueled on rage and the life energy of every plant on the planet. Will having one man at his side really be enough to turn that tide?

He has to hope. He wants to trust that it's possible, that he can stop Knives, that with Wolfwood they can stop him cleanly. But the fear is so hard to shake.

You're always better together, yes, that's true. They always have been, up until this last fight. If he could wipe December from his mind, forget what Wolfwood looked like with Chapel's Punisher lodged in his chest, forget Livio's ruined face, then maybe he could believe that together they'd succeed.

There's a scrap of something colorful that catches his eyes in the cuff of his coat, and Vash picks the fragment of bright confetti out and lets it drift to the floor. He can't forget something like that, and how can he move forward with that weight? ]

You can't come with me. [ That, at least, he can be certain of. He snaps the final buckle and looks up to finally see that the other Vash shaking, and without thinking, he reaches out a hand for the other to take. Is he frightened for Vash, for Wolfwood, or is it something else? He can't tell. ] I wouldn't ask that of you, friend. This isn't your fight. It's mine.

[ Stop finding ways to break each other. Is that really what he's been doing? ]

You were with him awhile, before I arrived?

[dontdeserve]

[ Vash will be keeping both eyes on his other self, to make sure he doesn't bolt, but he is hoping that at least his words were heard. He thinks they are important, if not necessarily the gentlest.

And he shifts a little. ]

I need to find Nai. And Wolfwood - my Wolfwood. ... I hope. [ yelp, that's hard to say out loud.

But he's not refusing outright. It's just that he's not confirming either. If what he finds out lets him think he should go, he will. But he is willing to accept that there are things that he doesn't know yet, so he might be more in the way than help. ]

Ah... well? Sort of? He kind of showed up right as we were reaching Julai, my Wolfwood and I. He - Knives had Meryl and Roberto, and we were going for them, so once he was resting and I could se that he was going to recover, we went on. He, well, the two of them found me ... after, a few months back. So not too long, but some. [ So. Yes, Wolfwood has been there for two years and change. But he's spent most of that time with only himself, and his other self, as company. Time that Vash can't give back to either of them. ] He thought I was a fake one there to take him beyond. When he first showed up.

[love_and_peace]

[ They have to find Nai, yes. And the other Wolfwood – Vash smiles a little at that. My Wolfwood. He wants to ask so many questions, about how this Vash met his Wolfwood, if they've been traveling together long, if he had his suspicions at first or if his Wolfwood knew what subtlely was. If they both favor a weapon bigger than they are. If his Wolfwood carries that same deep self-loathing, that same guilt over what was done to him, and what he was made to do, and if so, if he's found a way to ease that ache.

But their stories are so different, he's learning, that any similarities at all seem to be coincidence more than anything. Meeting Wolfwood, and Meryl, before July? Someone named Roberto, and then being held by Knives? He's not sure his Knives, his brother from his world even knows that Meryl exists. He hopes that's the case. She'll be a lot safer if she manages to stay below Knives's radar. ]

We'll find him, if he's here. Your Wolfwood.

[ But even as he says it, he knows it's a lie. There's no we here, is there? This Vash needs to go find the rest of his team, his Wolfwood, his brother Nai. Maybe with his different history he'll have a different ending, too? That's something to hope for, certainly!

With a deep breath to steady himself, Vash rises to his feet with hardly a wobble. Just a little further to go. He's almost there. ]

But first, I think we should go drag my Wolfwood out of whatever bottle he's crawled into.

[ He knows the man too well by now, and there's no question in Vash's mind where Wolfwood is hiding. ]

[dontdeserve]

Yeah.

[ Quietly. He hasn't lost hope but he is Concerned. ]

Wolfwood - yours - was worried that mine would have taken his place.

[ which is why they came to December. Vash moves to stand next to his other self, ready to join him or... support him if necessary. And he would be willing to talk about his story. But Vash might want to hear it from his Wolfwood, after all. ]

And yes, let's go get him. Also, how are you... doing? And do you have a preference how I should call you.

[ Both questions get a small shrug out of Vash. He knows the first one is not too likely to get a proper answer, but he has to ask. The second question, well. Not that he has a preference himself, but it seems right to ask. ]

[love_and_peace]

[ Vash doesn't really hear the questions, to be honest. All he heard was the fear that there's another, younger Wolfwood in the grave just up the road, and it's just one more horror to add to the day's pile. Because it means they're going back to the orphanage, doesn't it? To see who's there. To see who's in the ground.

Some small part of Vash, deep inside, can't stop screaming. He fixes his fake smile in place -- a little lopsided, but it'll do for now -- and he pats the other Vash on the shoulder companionably. ]

I guess it's too confusing if we're both Vash, isn't it? [ Come on, friend. Shall they head out? Wolfwood -- both Wolfwoods, apparently -- are waiting for them, and Vash only has so much longer he can keep himself together.. ] The name is yours, if you'd like it.

[ He reaches up and gives a lock of his hair a tug, the mirror of the way Wolfwood did just a few minutes earlier, out in the street. ]

I guess I can't be Blondie anymore either!

[ It looks like hers though, doesn't it? Finally at the end of his run, he looks like her. Could he take her name, call himself Saverem? Has he earned that name yet?

...In his heart, he has to admit that the answer is no. ]

I guess that just leaves the Stampede.

[ A whirlwind of destruction, for a little while longer. ]

[dontdeserve]

Well, if I say it I wouldn't be confused, so if you want me to call you Vash, that still works. [ Yes, yes, downstairs they are heading. ] And I wouldn't have called you Blondie anyway. I'm... not great with the whole nicknames thing.

[ Vash breathes out softly. ]

I wish I knew where all the Dependents are. I think they are what called us here, and they must have had a reason.

[ He is not quite expecting Wolfwood to be awake, but he is looking inside the common area all the same. ]

[mercifullyheavy]

[The sound of a voice - no, wait, two voices, separate but the same but different in their own ways - and the sound of heavy boots on the stairs was almost enough to draw him back to the land of the "living." He was still muzzy, though, the bitter taste of stale alcohol in his mouth and the throbbing behind his eyes telling him what had put him into that state before he was able to remember exactly why.

He gave a soft groan, pulling his arm away from the bottle that was tucked into the crook of him, turning his head to blink out at the bar around him in absolutely bewilderment.]

Wh-...'sat...? N'le-Nogg'n...? [His head rolled again, coming to rest with his chin on the table as he squinted up towards the stairs from underneath the disarrayed mess of his hair.

At least most of the bottles stacked on the table near his head had been left unopened. But the fact that they were there at all spoke to an unrealized intent to make use of them, regardless of their current state.]

[love_and_peace]

[ He needs to take the stairs a little slower than usual, but he won't say anything about his condition if Vash won't. He laughs a little under his breath at the nicknames comment -- no, that's Wolfwood's thing, isn't it? Refusing to call anyone by their name and instead coming up with his own titles. At first Vash had thought that it was a way of keeping his distance -- after all, for most of the time they've spent together, Wolfwood was working for Knives. But now?

Now it's just charming.

The very drunk man at the bar downstairs blinks blearily up at them, and Vash amends that to mostly charming. ]

You started without me?

[ What he needs are food and sleep, but what's here, now, are Wolfwood and alcohol. Clearly this is what the universe wants for him in this moment, and who is he to argue with the universe? ]

You'd better have saved me some!

[ He just has to keep his feet under him long enough to get to that barstool, and then he can stop moving for awhile. No problem. ]

[dontdeserve]

[ It was charming indeed, and Vash never really thought it a way to distance himself as much as a certain irreverence that Wolfwood held towards everyone and everything, but the more nicknames he had, the more fond he was. The more directly he addressed anyone, the more trouble that person was just about to get.

He blinked slightly between the two of them, his stomach twisting slightly with concern, but.. at least there was no talk of anyone leaving alone. He breathed out softly, motioning at the other Vash to take a seat, before going to dig out for something NOT alcoholic - for Wolfwood, he needed some hydration. And something resembling utensils. He still had some cans of food in the coat pockets, so he just. Set two of those in front of each of the other two. Sleep would hopefully come in a bit, but they both needed to eat. Vash especially. ]

Both of you, have something besides the alcohol. Please?

[ He settled down, offering the utensils also, then pulled one leg up so he could hug it against himself. He wasn't reaching towards alcohol. He wasn't reaching towards food, either. In all fairness, he wasn't the one who'd gotten exhausted every possible way. ]

[mercifullyheavy]

[The last thing he expected was to see Vash, his Vash, coming down the stairs with that big grin on his face, chirping as if nothing had happened. He knew it was fake the instant he saw it, he always knew, but it was such a departure from what had happened earlier and the reaction he'd expected to get when Vash saw him again, that he just stared in stunned silence for a minute, eyes wide behind his sunglasses as he tried to sit up straight and mostly made it without too much of a wobble.

He looked between the two of them, down at the bottles on the table around him as if he'd forgotten they were there and then back up, only to have the white of the bandages around Vash's arm catch his eye. There hadn't been enough time for the memories to fade even with the large amount of whiskey now flowing through his bloodstream, he hadn't even really had a proper chance to figure out what to do with everything that he had seen, and it all came rolling through his brain like syrup.]

Uh...uh...here...here y'go. [He reached up to grab one of the bottles and held it up for Vash to take about the same time he remembered the last time they'd had a drink, and suddenly he felt like he was going to be sick. It only made it worse when Nico's Vash plunked a can of green beans and potatoes down in front of him, expecting him to eat, and he could feel himself turning a little green. He fought it back, swallowing hard and closing his eyes as he worked on taking deep, steadying breaths, until he had managed to finally settle himself enough that he could open his eyes again.]

M'okay. Not very hungry. You can have it. [He tried to ignore the way his leg looked as he hugged it against his chest made him look like an anxious bundle of nerves, instead turning to look around at the windows before a bewildered look crossed his face.] How-...how long was I out...? Looks early. Why's it so early?

[Vash should be sleeping, he needed rest after the day he'd had. He looked back at the bandages on his arm, his eyes darting away again an instant later, wanting to ask if he was ok, wanting to apologize for pushing him too hard earlier and being the reason he'd been driven so far he wanted to rip himself apart. And yet he felt the words wedge themselves in his chest like a stone. He'd tried to apologize earlier, it had gone horribly. He'd tried to act normal, again, with horrible results. He'd even thought for a little moment that it was alright, to let himself accept the hold he couldn't stop wanting, the way he'd started realizing was a thing he could get away with, where the other Vash was involved. And it had all blown up in his face so hard.

So what did he say? He suddenly felt like he'd stepped over a line so far, he didn't know how to make it back, felt like he was floundering. Why couldn't he just be normal again?

Admittedly, it may have been something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol, but there wasn't much he could do about that until he had metabolized it out of his system, and he may have had a high tolerance for the stuff, but it was still going to take some time. Don't say stupid things. Shut up. So he just sat, those words repeating in his head like a mantra so he couldn't fuck things up even worse than he'd done already.]

[love_and_peace]

[ He made it to the table without falling over, success! ...For a given definition of success, anyway. On his one side, Vash looks almost as stressed as he feels, curled up tight around himself... and no wonder, given what he's got planned after this little drinking party. On his other side, Wolfwood is acting like he's waiting for the ground to open up beneath him, and from the way he keeps shooting glances at the bandage around Vash's arm, there's no question what he's thinking about. The whole mood is dark and miserable, and it's making Vash want to take his bottle, crawl under the table, and not come out again.

But that's not a choice he gets to make, so! Vash first, then Wolfwood.

Silly smile firmly plastered across his face as reminder to himself to keep his shit together – the others won't believe that dumb grin for a moment, but it's not for them – Vash reaches out and takes Wolfwood's hand in his own, threading their fingers together securely before turning to Vash with a nod. ]

Thanks for the meal!

[ Beneath the words, he sends gratitude/family/support, bare emotions rather than words, the way he usually speaks with the plants in their bulbs. With Knives, it's always words, usually after being pulled into his gate to have a talk, and it's never a pleasant experience. With the other plants, though, communication is easy, dream-like, honest feelings passed back and forth like a caress. Whoever is in the ground back in the orphanage, whatever secrets they're going to go dig up, it's not going to be easy on any of them. He's not sure he'd have the patience to wait here if it was his Wolfwood potentially buried in another man's grave. He's not sure he'd be able to be this calm.

Still holding Wolfwood's hand, Vash grabs the fork and digs in to the can of vegetables like it's the tastiest thing on the planet. His stomach revolts almost immediately, but he's had more than a century's practice at ignoring his body's complaints, and right now he needs the fuel. Once he gets half the can down his throat, he'll chase it with whatever's left in that bottle. ]

[dontdeserve]

Not too long.

[ Vash absolutely would have caught his other self and carried him if he had stumbled because he was running on hyperaware, and while he was kind of hiding behind his knee, he was also observing. He did nod slowly at Wolfwood's response to the food, noting the faint green tinge - normally he would have insisted, but the day had been. A lot. He did not, could not, reach for the food himself, however. Perhaps later.

... then his other self gave the traditional thanks in his general direction and Vash nearly choked on air. That. Felt so strange directed at him, especially with the earlier waves of memories, with Nai, of Rem. Who had taught them this. Who had been addressed so, for most of a year. By him, since Nai didn't need to even eat.

It was just startling. Extremely so.

It took him a moment to duck his head. ]

Ah... yeah. You kind of need it.

[ But his shoulders had dropped a little, some of the tension just dissolved with the pure surprise, and he leaned a little, not hugging his leg so tightly.

aaaand then. he couldn't quite resist asking, nodding towards the bottle. ]

Does it really help?

[mercifullyheavy]

[Not too long, he said, as if it wasn't a big deal. Despite the small wave of panic that was trying to take hold, his mouth twisted down and he looked over at Vash as he did his best to make his painfully-cheerful-pretending way to the table.]

Y'should be restin'!

[The moment he reached over and took his hand, though, he felt his brain slam to a halt. He jumped at first, stared at the way he linked their fingers together and just held, and then it felt as if the world narrowed down to that one point of contact. He barely registered their voices as they continued to speak around him, didn't even notice the way he slowly curled back down until he looked like he was going to put his head back on the table, and he just stared as the shock of those earlier memories he'd stolen out of Vash's head came rolling back.

Why. Why me? Why??? How can he love me? I'm no good, no fuckin' good! The voice in his head screamed, felt like it was flaying him from the inside out, and the only thing that kept his tears from landing on the table under his face was the pair of sunglasses on his face, and even then, it wasn't long before a few spilled over anyway, and still he didn't seem to notice. But he didn't pull away from the hold, and after a moment, he squeezed his hand back, his thumb beginning to rub barely-there circles against the back of his Vash's hand.

If you wanted an answer to your question, Vash, he was giving a pretty good one without saying a word. Sometimes it helped, a bit. But other times, when it was really bad, this happened. And still, they continued to do it to themselves, time and again.]

[love_and_peace]

[ Rem taught them well! At least where manners were concerned.

Bottle empty, he set it down with excessive caution on the table top, head already swimming and all those tight muscles in his shoulders and back starting to warm and soften. ]

Sometimes it helps.

[ If it were just him and Wolfwood – if he wasn't worried that more would make him puke and waste the effort of eating – he'd crack open the nearest bottle and see how long it took to drain that one, too. But between the other Vash's concerned demeanor and the so-gentle movement of Wolfwood's thumb against the back of his hand, Vash feels pinned in place, unable to keep going.

Which, based on how much the room is starting to tilt to the side, is probably for the best. ]

It's hard sometimes, you know? To keep going. [ It doesn't feel right saying that out loud, even just to himself – especially not to himself, but he doesn't get to have secrets anymore, apparently. They've both seen the worst of his life – what harm is there in talking about how he's kept putting one foot in front of the other through all that? ] Sometimes I just want it to stop. [ Rem would be furious at him for that, but he can't help it if it's true. ] When my body, and heart, and everything hurts... when I wasn't fast enough... when I wasn't good enough... when I don't want to be alone anymore, drinking makes everything a little easier for awhile.

[ He realizes, then, what he's been saying, and pulls it all back with a deep breath and a shake of his head, visibly forcing his mood into something lighter and happier. ]

But it's fun, too! We should have a drinking party sometime, you'll love it! Funny hats, and singing... [ Beaming, swaying a little in his chair, he turns to Wolfwood, and his smile goes soft. ] Dancing. [ He gives Wolfwood's hand a squeeze. ] You hear that? I'm gonna make you dance with me.

[ Putting his head down on the table is sounding like a better and better idea all the time. Wolfwood's on to something there. ...But not yet. Not quite yet.

He turns back to Vash, eyes half-lidded, falling asleep in his seat. ]

What do you do, when it's too much?

[dontdeserve]

[ ... vash here was staring with concern at both of them, the waves of self-loathing from Wolfwood nearly intense enough to properly register, and he swallowed hard. He was half tempted to wrap himself around the man's back to soothe some of that, but ... it was not his place. It never had been.

And Vash...

He swallowed hard at the words, looking down for a bit. ]

When it's too much... I run away. I run and I run, until there is someone who needs me. And only once I've managed to help, even a little, do I deserve things for myself again. And by then the need to dull things isn't... that pressing.

[ His voice was quiet and going even softer. Talking about himself was. Hard.

But if the other Vash did fall asleep, Vash could relocate them all upstairs because yes, he did need rest. So did Wolfwood. ]

[mercifullyheavy]

[He was so stuck in his own head that he hardly even registered what they were talking about, until Vash shifted and looked at him, squeezing his hand again so that he looked up like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. But Vash was smiling at him with a look that made his heart hurt and he struggled to focus on his words, confusion rolling over his features.]

I don't-...I've never-...I dunno how t'dance...! [That look made him wish he did, though, and oh no, the alcohol was really sinking into his bones, now, because he was feeling guilty for not knowing, when Vash looked like it was something that would have actually made him happy. He actually looked a little alarmed at the fact, reaching up to hold the hand grasping his own with both of his.] I can try though, I'll learn, you know I learn things pretty easy, right?

[But the conversation was already turning to other subjects, and he swayed in his seat, turning his confused look over to the Vash on the other side of the table, looking between them before he seemed to realize what they were talking about. His face shifted again, brows pinching into something of a hazy, serious frown.]

He doesn't eat! [As if that was the most shocking thing on the face of the planet, blurted out and then followed up with a moment of silent contemplation because he was trying to wrangle his thoughts into submission.] He don't eat when 'e's upset, an' it worries me!

[The indignant outburst melted away with a little whine as he put his head down. Not on the table, though, on top of the hand clasped in his, rolling his forehead against the side of Vash's fingers with a sad little sniffle.]

I worry so much, you two're hurtin' an' I can't figure out how t'make it stop, I never thought I'd see you again an' I was so fuckin' worried, was scared you were gonna die an' it was so long an' I missed you so much!

[His voice trailed off in a sad drunken little moue, though from the mumbled half-sounds, he might have been trying to form coherent thoughts out of the alcohol-fueled haze. It wasn't often that Nicholas let himself go this far deep in the bottles, and after the day they'd had, he suddenly found himself feeling a bit more...clingy than usual, if the way he clutched onto that hand and pressed his cheek against it was any indication.]

[love_and_peace]

[ Ah, Vash is about to say, you help people! That's such a healthier choice than drinking! But then Wolfwood chimes in, outing the other Vash's poor choices, and Vash just smiles apologetically at his double. Too much alcohol or not enough food, either way it's something they have some control over, isn't it? Or maybe he's overthinking things again.

Maybe he just needs to go lay down. ]

Come with us. [ --he murmurs quietly to the other Vash, before gathering the last of his energy and turning to the sad drunk at his side. He gives that hand another squeeze, to get Wolfwood's attention, then pushes back from the table and gets unsteadily to his feet. ]

I vote we move this party upstairs. [ Wolfwood's very drunk though, his sleepy brains inform him, and Vash frowns. Can he carry the man if he has to? Maybe? Probably. Guess he's gonna find out! ] C'mon, I'm not sleeping here.

[ Not that it would be the first time he'd slept on a table in a bar. Such a sad bar, though, without any people. Bars should be loud, raucous, smelly and smoky and alive. Everything here is dead, and abandoned, and empty.

Damn. He didn't want to start thinking like that, not now. He gives Wolfwood's hand a tug, to get the man on his feet. ]

I wanna sleep with you.

[dontdeserve]

[ Vash shrugged back, though there was a flinch as Wolfwood pointed it out. His Wolfwood, one of the first thing he'd said after they'd met - not to him, but had said all the same - was that everyone deserved to laugh and to put some food in their belly. He had been more focused on complying since then, but... he still sometimes slipped. And right now it felt like he was letting Wolfwood down and okay let's not think about that...

He did beam at his other self at the suggestion that they move upstairs, his eyes widening at the implication of the invitation...

... which turned into way more than implication and while absolutely happy, it made vash's entire face go very, very pink. Not because of the suggestiveness, as much as the admission of want of closeness.

Of intimacy.

And he had some idea what that would do to Wolfwood, if probably not a fully-fledged idea.

He bounced to his feet, and headed towards them, wrapping their linked hands over his own neck and leaning down to wrap an arm around Wolfwood's waist, the other coming around Vash - to steady, for now, but if he thought it necessary, he'd carry his weight, also. ]

Upstairs is a great idea.

[mercifullyheavy]

[He rolled his head when he felt his hand being squeezed again, blinking up at Vash from his spot on top of their hands, only to blink again in bewilderment before he was being hefted up out of his chair, stumbling just a little bit as the words kicked in. Five seconds later than they should have.]

Whuh-...? Me? Wanna...wanna sleep with me??? [His face twisted, tears in his eyes. But he'd been in the bar so he wouldn't have to! So Vash wouldn't have to see him when he woke up!] I didn't-...But I...made you upset! Ya hurtcherself cuz'ah me!

[And then his arm was being hefted up over the other Vash's shoulder, and he was leaning against him, pointing at himself and tilting to look at the first Vash around him, very nearly risking toppling over.]

I ne'er thoughcha'd wanna see me again! I jus' keep hurt'n yah! [Whether the hiccup that caught his breath was from the alcohol or a little sob was anyone's guess, but the tears that spilled off of his lashes and the way he sniffled for a few breaths lent evidence to the fact that it was more than likely one over the other.

Wolfwood was no lightweight, but even he didn't often drink almost two bit, whole bottles of hard liquor. He was really going to regret this when he woke up the next day.]

[love_and_peace]

[ Upstairs is a great idea, yes! He has lots of great ideas! And the other Vash has a great idea too, pulling everybody up together with their arms around his neck, because he's so kind, and so helpful. He's a good Vash, Vash thinks, allowing the other Vash to take some of his weight. He's very tired, and wobbly, and the other Vash is such a good Vash. He deserves good things. Vash wants to tell him that, but Wolfwood is being loud and sad, and there's no room for anything else while he's so sad.

With a huff, Vash pulls his hand free from Wolfwood's so he can haul off and smack the man upside the head. ]

You didn't do anything! [ It's a good thing the nice Vash is there to hold him up, or that swing would have spun Vash right around and landed him on the floor. If he were more incontrol of himself, he'd apologize to the other him for the wave of emotions pouring off of him, but he doesn't spend much time with other plants, and it's not something he's used to having to control. ] You saved my life, and you came back from the dead!

[ Under all that bluster, under all that genuine affection and respect, is a core of grief and fear. Legato showed him so many nightmares in his months of the ark, and his exhausted mind generated so many more all on its own. If this turns out to be an illusion, a dream, if he opens his eyes and he's back in his cage, he might very well lose it entirely. ]

Stop leaving. I want you here.