Really, if Wolfwood would stop dying – or seeming to die – on him, they'd all be happier for it!
With both of them holding him gently and talking of love, Vash was finally able to get his bawling under control. Wolfwood wasn't dying – at least, not today, not here – but he was leaving, and the tears for that loss didn't feel like they'd ever stop.
And maybe they wouldn't. He'd never been in love before, but he'd certainly loved before, and he'd carry those loves with him, etched into his heart, for the rest of his life. Why did love have to hurt so much? It wasn't fair! Love should be joyful! Happy! Vivacious and excited and full of life... at least for a little while! Why did he have to fall in love, only to skip ahead to the sad song on a bar jukebox part?
Why couldn't they have had more time?
But thankfully, there was a power even stronger than grief, even more motivating than self-loathing or all-encompassing as love denied. Vash's hands had been tight around Wolfwood's chest, but now they took the other man by the shoulders, pushing him back far enough so that Vash could look him in the eye. Pardon the tears and snuffling -- he really would be crying for the rest of his life, but that didn't mean he was any less furious about what he'd just heard.
“If you think, for one second, that either of us are letting you leave here on your own after almost dying on me? Again?” Sorry for speaking for you, Vash, but he was pretty certain the other him would agree. “Then you don't know me very well at all.”
He'd spent his entire life finding another way. He'd saved entire caravans with a handful of bullets and no lives lost, he'd negotiated peace treaties by playing the idiot until both sides agreed simply to shut him up, he'd spent more than a century fighting off loneliness and regret with laughter and silly hair and never one time put his gun against his head, not even for a moment. Finding another path forward out of this mess? That'd be a piece of cake. He didn't have the faintest idea what that path looked like now, but between the three of them, they could come up with something. Anything was better than sending Wolfwood off on his own!
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With both of them holding him gently and talking of love, Vash was finally able to get his bawling under control. Wolfwood wasn't dying – at least, not today, not here – but he was leaving, and the tears for that loss didn't feel like they'd ever stop.
And maybe they wouldn't. He'd never been in love before, but he'd certainly loved before, and he'd carry those loves with him, etched into his heart, for the rest of his life. Why did love have to hurt so much? It wasn't fair! Love should be joyful! Happy! Vivacious and excited and full of life... at least for a little while! Why did he have to fall in love, only to skip ahead to the sad song on a bar jukebox part?
Why couldn't they have had more time?
But thankfully, there was a power even stronger than grief, even more motivating than self-loathing or all-encompassing as love denied. Vash's hands had been tight around Wolfwood's chest, but now they took the other man by the shoulders, pushing him back far enough so that Vash could look him in the eye. Pardon the tears and snuffling -- he really would be crying for the rest of his life, but that didn't mean he was any less furious about what he'd just heard.
“If you think, for one second, that either of us are letting you leave here on your own after almost dying on me? Again?” Sorry for speaking for you, Vash, but he was pretty certain the other him would agree. “Then you don't know me very well at all.”
He'd spent his entire life finding another way. He'd saved entire caravans with a handful of bullets and no lives lost, he'd negotiated peace treaties by playing the idiot until both sides agreed simply to shut him up, he'd spent more than a century fighting off loneliness and regret with laughter and silly hair and never one time put his gun against his head, not even for a moment. Finding another path forward out of this mess? That'd be a piece of cake. He didn't have the faintest idea what that path looked like now, but between the three of them, they could come up with something. Anything was better than sending Wolfwood off on his own!
“I said you wouldn't be alone, and I meant it.”