His world narrowed, until there was nothing but the sound of Wolfwood's heartbeat, the rasp of his breathing, the groans and sighs of his body as it struggled to function. Vash had never before reached out to a human the way he could with his plant family, but he thought that maybe... maybe if he could connect Wolfwood's heart with his own, the way he'd done with the plant on the sand steamer, maybe...
But they were interrupted before he could try, by pounding footsteps, the familiar presence of self-not self, and an aura of calm that washed over him, urging him to stop his efforts, to relax into what was happening, to stop fighting and just breathe. Careless in his grief, Vash pushed back hard against that calming influence – Wolfwood was dying, what was the point of being calm?! He didn't need calm, he needed help!
And then, a second miracle, as Wolfwood shifted in his arms, his heartrate slowing, his breathing evening out, pulling back from that precipice that it felt they'd both been leaning into. Wolfwood was breathing, speaking, redeemed again! And when he laid his hands on gently on Vash's face, all Vash could do was cry with relief.
I can't watch him die again, he'd said to Vash in that hotel in December, and somehow, somehow, Vash had returned and spared him that. Once he was able to get himself together there would be thanks, so many thanks, and so many questions... but for now, not even the knock at the door could stop the tears and graceless sobbing.
no subject
But they were interrupted before he could try, by pounding footsteps, the familiar presence of self-not self, and an aura of calm that washed over him, urging him to stop his efforts, to relax into what was happening, to stop fighting and just breathe. Careless in his grief, Vash pushed back hard against that calming influence – Wolfwood was dying, what was the point of being calm?! He didn't need calm, he needed help!
And then, a second miracle, as Wolfwood shifted in his arms, his heartrate slowing, his breathing evening out, pulling back from that precipice that it felt they'd both been leaning into. Wolfwood was breathing, speaking, redeemed again! And when he laid his hands on gently on Vash's face, all Vash could do was cry with relief.
I can't watch him die again, he'd said to Vash in that hotel in December, and somehow, somehow, Vash had returned and spared him that. Once he was able to get himself together there would be thanks, so many thanks, and so many questions... but for now, not even the knock at the door could stop the tears and graceless sobbing.