Vash's eyebrows climbed up, helplessly, at the first part.
"So dumb, huh? I hate to break it to you, but that's going around now and again. So long as you don't get entrenched into it and refuse to budge, it's not that bad. And you did not."
Then he hummed, thoughtful. He did not point out that he believed that of everyone, absolutely everyone, even more so of people that Wolfwood had given up on. So this particular instance was just how the two of them were.
Instead, he thought to the only time he could think when he had healed, a little. Sure, it had only been to where he had been earlier, but it had been healing all the same.
"Sometimes, there isn't a how to it. When I was with Lina and all, it was a matter of being among people who were kind to me, and nothing else happening to break me more. Which is why I said it's a matter of time. Th...ink of it as how most people would be when their arm is broken. It would need to be aligned, and then steadied so it doesn't move, and then not used for a while." Sometimes, it had to be rebroken...
Vash acknowledged that thought and put it away for later consideration.
"... and broken inside might not be that different. I don't know. We can find out, right?" Or Wolfwood and his Vash could find out.
He managed to smile, a little, a smile that was not a grimace, just... very small, and reached up to tug oh so lightly at Wolfwood's hair, in lieu of ruffling it.
"I've got this. It needed to be done, and now this needs to be done. He'll be at peace. You go rest a bit more."
Another squeeze of Wolfwood's shoulder, and he was off, to fill up the grave again - this time with the shovel, as it would not get anywhere near to endangering anything - and then set down the stone, taking time to align it just right comparative to the Punisher, to how he knew now the body was laid out.
Then it was time to seek out a way to wash his hands, too.
no subject
"So dumb, huh? I hate to break it to you, but that's going around now and again. So long as you don't get entrenched into it and refuse to budge, it's not that bad. And you did not."
Then he hummed, thoughtful. He did not point out that he believed that of everyone, absolutely everyone, even more so of people that Wolfwood had given up on. So this particular instance was just how the two of them were.
Instead, he thought to the only time he could think when he had healed, a little. Sure, it had only been to where he had been earlier, but it had been healing all the same.
"Sometimes, there isn't a how to it. When I was with Lina and all, it was a matter of being among people who were kind to me, and nothing else happening to break me more. Which is why I said it's a matter of time. Th...ink of it as how most people would be when their arm is broken. It would need to be aligned, and then steadied so it doesn't move, and then not used for a while." Sometimes, it had to be rebroken...
Vash acknowledged that thought and put it away for later consideration.
"... and broken inside might not be that different. I don't know. We can find out, right?" Or Wolfwood and his Vash could find out.
He managed to smile, a little, a smile that was not a grimace, just... very small, and reached up to tug oh so lightly at Wolfwood's hair, in lieu of ruffling it.
"I've got this. It needed to be done, and now this needs to be done. He'll be at peace. You go rest a bit more."
Another squeeze of Wolfwood's shoulder, and he was off, to fill up the grave again - this time with the shovel, as it would not get anywhere near to endangering anything - and then set down the stone, taking time to align it just right comparative to the Punisher, to how he knew now the body was laid out.
Then it was time to seek out a way to wash his hands, too.