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nico-oniichan.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-04-09 12:08 am
nico-oniichan.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-04-09 12:08 am
Log; Complete
When; April 7th; evening
Rating; Pg-13ish for language
Characters; Nicholas D. Wolfwood![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nico_oniichan , and Vash the Stampede mildlyreckless
Summary; Wolfwood and Vash have a long overdue talk.
Log;
Nights lounging around the apartment had taken a familiar turn; at least as far as Wolfwood was concerned. It was just like when they had been on the road together, minus the whole people wanting to kill you because of association thing. It was safe to say that it was the one thing that he wouldn’t miss any time soon.
Still, the tension was reaching its boiling point and it seemed to have everyone in the city on edge, including himself. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he eyed the street, a disgruntled look in his eyes as he waited for some sign that whatever it was that was eating at everyone in this city had come to a stop.
He knew what was bothering him… The subject of Vash’s mortality. Someone he thought was invincible was going to die, if he didn’t come up with some kind of plan. How was he going to set Knives off enough to turn more of his hair black, without wiping out everyone and everything around him? It didn’t seem possible. Not to mention Spikey’d probably react to it, too. He heaved a small, irritated sigh and exhaled smoke from his lips. How the hell was he going to bring this up without it blowing up in his face?
--
The front door's knob rattled slightly and Vash's voice called from the other side of the door.
"Wolfwood! Are you in there? The door's locked! And I can't find my--"
The door opened and Vash cut himself off with an embarrassed look.
"Er... Never mind," he said sheepishly. "I got it."
--
Wolfwood turned sharply, a reflexive action at the sound of the rattling doorknob. Jesus, couldn’t the guy give him more of a warning?
“I can see that, Spikey,” he replied from around his cigarette, turning away from the window for the time being. Always was one to point out the obvious.
“Everythin’ all right out there?” He knew he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the atmosphere in the city the past few days, hell, he’d heard enough about it through that network thing. It didn’t change that he was still curious about what was happening down there, even though he was smart enough to avoid going out for the night.
--
"No," Vash said, shutting the door with a frown. "There's a lot of turmoil. I don't like it."
Vash looked over at Wolfwood and watched him for several seconds in silence, as if assuring himself that his friend was really there. He had caught himself doing that a lot ever since he arrived in the City... Suddenly afraid Wolfwood had caught him doing it as well; Vash turned away and walked over to the couch.
"I think I'm done for today," he said, flopping onto the couch with a sigh. "I don't think I've just sat around at all since I got here. Heh. You'd think I'd take advantage of the..."
Vash looked over at Wolfwood and trailed off.
"Is something wrong?"
--
He resisted the urge to look away under Vash’s eyes. His gaze always did manage to unsettle him and the fact that he kept looking at him like that… It was starting to piss him off.
He crushed the butt of his cigarette out in an ashtray, half listening to what his friend rambled about as he mulled over what he should say. Yes, his friend. After that fiasco where Spikey had managed to get himself kidnapped and held on the Ark for over seven months, Wolfwood had spent his time mulling over what he’d done and what he should do. Of course, he chose to save Vash because if there was any hope at stopping Knives it all landed on him. And because deep down, he cared about him. He’d been the first friend he’d had in who knew how long.
He really didn’t want to be the one to initiate this conversation. Something this huge could make or break everything and he wasn’t sure how fragile the glass he was stepping on was. Plus it meant he’d probably have to own up to everything he hadn’t said before. Sure, Spikey had to have figured it out by now… But admitting to it was something else entirely.
Wolfwood’s eyes focused a little more when he heard the former blond trail off; tempted to reach for another cigarette to settle his nerves. Well, it was now or never.
“…Knives told me ‘bout yer hair.”
--
Vash stared at Wolfwood in horrified silence. So Knives hadn't been lying when he said he had told him. Damn. Wolfwood was waiting for a response. Vash knew he should say something...
Dammit, say anything...
"What... do you mean?" Vash asked eventually with a forced smile. He already knew that response might get him yelled at, but he couldn't help it. People didn't need to know... They shouldn't have to know... Wolfwood especially shouldn't have to know. It would just make him worry. So he would keep pretending. He had been pretending for over a hundred years. What would a few more minutes matter?
--
Damn it, he should have known he was going to try for this angle. The look Wolfwood gave him was one that had sent lesser men scurrying for cover. But not this guy, no, nothing he found out had him running. That didn’t stop him from glaring him down one bit.
“You want me to fuckin’ spell it out fer ya?” he growled; eyes narrowed at Vash’s smile. God, he hated that smile. The one that was obviously nothing but bullshit in hopes of playing pretend that everything was fine when it had all gone to hell. Seeing him angry would’ve been better than that look.
“Yer dyin’, Spikey… Fuck, yer dyin’ and all you can do is sit there, pretendin’ nothin’ is wrong!”
--
Vash flinched under Wolfwood's glare. He sat in conflicted silence, wondering if he had been wrong. Did keeping Wolfwood at arm's length really hurt him more than letting him know the truth? The way he was looking at him right now certainly suggested as much...
"I... don't know what you want me to do, Wolfwood..." Vash said timidly. "I just don't want you to--"
--look at me like that. Please stop looking at me like that.
"--worry about me. I'll be all right..."
Just please don't leave me again.
"...I'm sorry."
--
Shit, now he’d done it. He’d worked himself up and only to fuck up this conversation. The priest looked away, unable to stand Vash’s gaze any longer as he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
This was his own damn fault, if he just hadn’t been so stupid before! Well, if he hadn’t then the kids would’ve… or even Livio. Ah, goddamn it. Now he needed another cigarette.
How could he explain it in a way that he would understand? Saying that he could never return home even if he wanted to and that Vash should keep that right, because he didn’t deserve to be in a place like this forever sounded about right but… He needed Vash to be okay. If he wasn’t… Hell, he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to know what would happen.
“It’s my job to worry ‘bout you. You obviously won’t do it, so it settles on me,” he muttered, the anger that had been in his voice dissipating with every breath he took. It was something he’d been doing out of habit more than necessity since he’d arrived; yeah, he was dead but there wasn’t any harm in pretending he was still alive and breathing, right?
His apology had caught him off guard, shock evident on his face as he stared at Vash. Apologies had never been his thing, hell, dealing with emotional people hadn’t either. Crybaby Livio was a prime example of that.
“Don’t be, Spikey. I’m just—I ain’t sure what to do.” He’d been so sure what to do when he was back on Gunsmoke; his entire plan was laid out before him. It didn’t matter if he survived or not because really, he wasn’t expecting to ever go home again. Except he had and he’d died in the end, but that had been fine because the kids were safe, Livio was still alive and Spikey was fine. But now he was here, along with Knives and Legato and fuck knew who else would show their face before this was all done. He needed a plan and fast.
--
Vash dropped his eyes and gazed at the floor numbly. He'd never been faced with this sort of situation before. In the past, he always knew that it was better not to say anything. But this was different. Wolfwood was different.
"I don't know exactly what's going to happen," he said carefully. "Knives knows a lot more about my body than I do. But I've seen a lot of dead plants with black hair. Their hair was completely black. Mine isn't yet."
Vash looked back up at Wolfwood with a weak grin. "So I've still got some time left. And I think as long as I don't use my 'power' I'll continue to have time left. And anyway, the dead don't stay that way here, right? I mean... after all... You're here... And I... buried you..."
Vash felt tears burning his eyes and his smile broadened in an attempt to keep them from welling any further.
"I never really stopped to think about it since I got here, but I'm really glad I was brought here so I could see you again. Nobody yells at me the same way you do, you know."
--
“Ya know that the dead don’t leave this place, right?” he asked after a pregnant pause, unsure how to react to Vash admitting that he missed him. The sentiment was more than reciprocated, but… Why? He didn’t necessarily consider himself a bad person, but he was far from a saint. He did what he had to do, and it wasn’t exactly something Spikey had been fond of.
“…Once ya die, yer stuck here. Ya can’t go back home.” Wolfwood said, wondering if the finality of that really meant anything to Vash at all. Probably not, but…He didn’t deserve to be stuck in a place like this. “Ya’ve got a chance at livin’ back home, ‘n with Knives gone, the ships from Earth’ll be able ta get everyone outta there. ‘Sides, the short girl’s probably missin’ you as we speak.”
Bringing Meryl into this might make him see reason. He wasn’t worth staying with, couldn’t he understand that?
--
Vash's face became solemn as Wolfwood told him that he had a chance of living back home. He wasn't sure what he was more conflicted over; the fact that the dead couldn't leave the City... or the fact that Wolfwood expected him to keep on living after Knives had been taken care of.
"Right," he said quietly. "Well... Maybe it's not so... important that I get back... I mean, after all, Knives is here. As long as he's here, he can't be back on that planet, right? Maybe it'd be better if we both just stayed here."
There wasn't any room for Vash or Knives back home anyway. There couldn't be. And Vash knew that there wasn't any easy way of making Wolfwood understand that.
--
Wait, wasn’t Knives not being wherever Spikey was a good thing? Confused wasn’t a natural expression for Wolfwood but he seemed to be pulling it off pretty well. How could it be better for the both of them to be here? He couldn’t mean that keeping Knives alive was what he had planned all along… Not after half the shit he’d done.
“’Course it’s important that ya get back. Haven’t ya heard everyone talkin’? This place is a disaster waitin’ ta happen,” he tried to rationalize, insistent that staying here was not a good idea. If tonight was supposed to be an example of what to look forward to, well… He wasn’t so sure he wanted to stay here.
“…Spikey, what exactly are ya gonna do ta take care of Knives?” He’d never thought to ask him, really, he’d just assumed… Damn it, he was a fucking idiot. Why would someone who’d never killed anyone decide that killing his psychotic brother would make sense?
--
Vash rubbed his right arm compulsively, stopping himself as quickly as he started. Normally he wouldn't have felt so self-conscious about it, but around Wolfwood he suddenly felt like he was drawing attention to that arm... The arm he had seen mutate and...
"Only what I have to do," Vash replied soberly. "I won't let him have his way. I have to end it."
All of it.
"I'm the only one who can stop him. And that's exactly what I intend to do."
No matter what it does to me.
Vash stared into space for a few seconds, struggling not to become lost in thought. Part of him wondered if he could just end it all here... And continue to live with his friend... Surely it would be better than dying back on Gunsmoke and not knowing what would happen after that. Was that too selfish? He didn't know anymore. Suddenly aware once again of Wolfwood's gaze, Vash looked back up to meet his eyes.
"Sorry... I sort of zoned out for a second," he said guiltily. "Guess I haven't really thought about what being here means in terms of finishing things with him. Heh. I haven't really stopped to think about much of anything since I got here... Maybe part of me just wants everything to stay simpler for a little while longer."
--
Wolfwood’s gaze went to Vash’s arm almost immediately at the first sign of movement; his expression neutral as he looked back to Vash’s face to check for signs that perhaps his ‘power’ had decided to activate itself. Nearly seven months ago he’d had trouble controlling it, since the mess with Hoppered and Hornfreak but it seemed like he was in control when Brad and his found them. That thing with his arm… It scared him. Hell, even he was willing admit that but he wasn’t going anywhere, not now and sure as hell not ever. Still, if it did go off… What the hell was he going to do?
“I figured as much,” he muttered, calloused fingers reaching inside his jacket for another cigarette. It wasn’t a plan, it didn’t even tell him what he was going to do exactly but… He figured it would have to do. He’d probably already stepped over the boundaries of their friendship enough to night by opening his mouth in the first place.
“I guess it can, s’long as he doesn’t try anythin’. Might as well enjoy what little rest we can get, huh?” he mused as he lit up without a moment’s hesitation and took a long drag. Maybe if they were lucky, whatever fucked up idiots who passed for gods around here would see the harm in keeping Knives and his favorite pet psychopath around and send them back. Probably not, but he could hope.
--
"Yeah," Vash said with a real smile this time, "A rest would be good. I've already met quite a few nice people here. You know, I got invited to go to the beach this weekend. I've never been to one of those before. Of course, I won't be swimming, but it should be fun all the same."
Vash was babbling again and he knew it, and while he full intended to keep doing so to steer the conversation somewhere else, for the first time he wondered if he should say more. Just to make sure Wolfwood felt a sense of closure to the conversation.
"Ah..." he said intelligently, promptly kicking himself for it, "Uh..."
IDIOT. TELL HIM.
Vash blinked stupidly. He had always been a good listener. People naturally opened up to him. But when it came to doing that himself...
"...I don't think I'm going to go to bed for a while. Headache. Heh. Hey, we should go check out some of the bars sometime. It sounds like there are a lot of neat places around here..."
...Idiot.
--
His real smiles were always contagious. They had to be, otherwise the small smile tugging at his lips now wouldn’t be there. Vash was rambling again, he knew it, but it was familiar and none of the serious talk they’d had just a moment ago, so he supposed he could let it slide for the moment.
“Beach, huh? Ain’t ever seen one, either. Makes me wonder if it snows in a place like this.” God, he hoped so. After living on a desert planet where it hadn’t rained for nearly one hundred years, the idea of snow seemed impossible but it got him hoping. Maybe all that crap going on outside would be worth it, if he got to see snow.
Wolfwood’s smile faltered when his friend spoke up again; brows creasing as he tried to think of what else it was he could have to say. Confronting him on what he’d done? He wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, he let it drop almost as soon as he brought it up. It had him at a loss, but he plastered on a smile just as quickly as Vash did. He wasn’t the only one good at hiding behind smiles.
“Maybe ya should take somethin’, huh? I wouldn’t say no to a couple o’ drinks, though. It’d be like old times.” Before the mess, back when they’d met on the bus for the first time. If Vash wasn’t going to mention whatever it was that was eating at him, he wasn’t going to force him to. He saw how well that went over when he tried to get him to talk about his damn hair.
Rating; Pg-13ish for language
Characters; Nicholas D. Wolfwood
nico_oniichan , and Vash the Stampede mildlyreckless Summary; Wolfwood and Vash have a long overdue talk.
Log;
Nights lounging around the apartment had taken a familiar turn; at least as far as Wolfwood was concerned. It was just like when they had been on the road together, minus the whole people wanting to kill you because of association thing. It was safe to say that it was the one thing that he wouldn’t miss any time soon.
Still, the tension was reaching its boiling point and it seemed to have everyone in the city on edge, including himself. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he eyed the street, a disgruntled look in his eyes as he waited for some sign that whatever it was that was eating at everyone in this city had come to a stop.
He knew what was bothering him… The subject of Vash’s mortality. Someone he thought was invincible was going to die, if he didn’t come up with some kind of plan. How was he going to set Knives off enough to turn more of his hair black, without wiping out everyone and everything around him? It didn’t seem possible. Not to mention Spikey’d probably react to it, too. He heaved a small, irritated sigh and exhaled smoke from his lips. How the hell was he going to bring this up without it blowing up in his face?
--
The front door's knob rattled slightly and Vash's voice called from the other side of the door.
"Wolfwood! Are you in there? The door's locked! And I can't find my--"
The door opened and Vash cut himself off with an embarrassed look.
"Er... Never mind," he said sheepishly. "I got it."
--
Wolfwood turned sharply, a reflexive action at the sound of the rattling doorknob. Jesus, couldn’t the guy give him more of a warning?
“I can see that, Spikey,” he replied from around his cigarette, turning away from the window for the time being. Always was one to point out the obvious.
“Everythin’ all right out there?” He knew he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the atmosphere in the city the past few days, hell, he’d heard enough about it through that network thing. It didn’t change that he was still curious about what was happening down there, even though he was smart enough to avoid going out for the night.
--
"No," Vash said, shutting the door with a frown. "There's a lot of turmoil. I don't like it."
Vash looked over at Wolfwood and watched him for several seconds in silence, as if assuring himself that his friend was really there. He had caught himself doing that a lot ever since he arrived in the City... Suddenly afraid Wolfwood had caught him doing it as well; Vash turned away and walked over to the couch.
"I think I'm done for today," he said, flopping onto the couch with a sigh. "I don't think I've just sat around at all since I got here. Heh. You'd think I'd take advantage of the..."
Vash looked over at Wolfwood and trailed off.
"Is something wrong?"
--
He resisted the urge to look away under Vash’s eyes. His gaze always did manage to unsettle him and the fact that he kept looking at him like that… It was starting to piss him off.
He crushed the butt of his cigarette out in an ashtray, half listening to what his friend rambled about as he mulled over what he should say. Yes, his friend. After that fiasco where Spikey had managed to get himself kidnapped and held on the Ark for over seven months, Wolfwood had spent his time mulling over what he’d done and what he should do. Of course, he chose to save Vash because if there was any hope at stopping Knives it all landed on him. And because deep down, he cared about him. He’d been the first friend he’d had in who knew how long.
He really didn’t want to be the one to initiate this conversation. Something this huge could make or break everything and he wasn’t sure how fragile the glass he was stepping on was. Plus it meant he’d probably have to own up to everything he hadn’t said before. Sure, Spikey had to have figured it out by now… But admitting to it was something else entirely.
Wolfwood’s eyes focused a little more when he heard the former blond trail off; tempted to reach for another cigarette to settle his nerves. Well, it was now or never.
“…Knives told me ‘bout yer hair.”
--
Vash stared at Wolfwood in horrified silence. So Knives hadn't been lying when he said he had told him. Damn. Wolfwood was waiting for a response. Vash knew he should say something...
Dammit, say anything...
"What... do you mean?" Vash asked eventually with a forced smile. He already knew that response might get him yelled at, but he couldn't help it. People didn't need to know... They shouldn't have to know... Wolfwood especially shouldn't have to know. It would just make him worry. So he would keep pretending. He had been pretending for over a hundred years. What would a few more minutes matter?
--
Damn it, he should have known he was going to try for this angle. The look Wolfwood gave him was one that had sent lesser men scurrying for cover. But not this guy, no, nothing he found out had him running. That didn’t stop him from glaring him down one bit.
“You want me to fuckin’ spell it out fer ya?” he growled; eyes narrowed at Vash’s smile. God, he hated that smile. The one that was obviously nothing but bullshit in hopes of playing pretend that everything was fine when it had all gone to hell. Seeing him angry would’ve been better than that look.
“Yer dyin’, Spikey… Fuck, yer dyin’ and all you can do is sit there, pretendin’ nothin’ is wrong!”
--
Vash flinched under Wolfwood's glare. He sat in conflicted silence, wondering if he had been wrong. Did keeping Wolfwood at arm's length really hurt him more than letting him know the truth? The way he was looking at him right now certainly suggested as much...
"I... don't know what you want me to do, Wolfwood..." Vash said timidly. "I just don't want you to--"
--look at me like that. Please stop looking at me like that.
"--worry about me. I'll be all right..."
Just please don't leave me again.
"...I'm sorry."
--
Shit, now he’d done it. He’d worked himself up and only to fuck up this conversation. The priest looked away, unable to stand Vash’s gaze any longer as he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
This was his own damn fault, if he just hadn’t been so stupid before! Well, if he hadn’t then the kids would’ve… or even Livio. Ah, goddamn it. Now he needed another cigarette.
How could he explain it in a way that he would understand? Saying that he could never return home even if he wanted to and that Vash should keep that right, because he didn’t deserve to be in a place like this forever sounded about right but… He needed Vash to be okay. If he wasn’t… Hell, he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to know what would happen.
“It’s my job to worry ‘bout you. You obviously won’t do it, so it settles on me,” he muttered, the anger that had been in his voice dissipating with every breath he took. It was something he’d been doing out of habit more than necessity since he’d arrived; yeah, he was dead but there wasn’t any harm in pretending he was still alive and breathing, right?
His apology had caught him off guard, shock evident on his face as he stared at Vash. Apologies had never been his thing, hell, dealing with emotional people hadn’t either. Crybaby Livio was a prime example of that.
“Don’t be, Spikey. I’m just—I ain’t sure what to do.” He’d been so sure what to do when he was back on Gunsmoke; his entire plan was laid out before him. It didn’t matter if he survived or not because really, he wasn’t expecting to ever go home again. Except he had and he’d died in the end, but that had been fine because the kids were safe, Livio was still alive and Spikey was fine. But now he was here, along with Knives and Legato and fuck knew who else would show their face before this was all done. He needed a plan and fast.
--
Vash dropped his eyes and gazed at the floor numbly. He'd never been faced with this sort of situation before. In the past, he always knew that it was better not to say anything. But this was different. Wolfwood was different.
"I don't know exactly what's going to happen," he said carefully. "Knives knows a lot more about my body than I do. But I've seen a lot of dead plants with black hair. Their hair was completely black. Mine isn't yet."
Vash looked back up at Wolfwood with a weak grin. "So I've still got some time left. And I think as long as I don't use my 'power' I'll continue to have time left. And anyway, the dead don't stay that way here, right? I mean... after all... You're here... And I... buried you..."
Vash felt tears burning his eyes and his smile broadened in an attempt to keep them from welling any further.
"I never really stopped to think about it since I got here, but I'm really glad I was brought here so I could see you again. Nobody yells at me the same way you do, you know."
--
“Ya know that the dead don’t leave this place, right?” he asked after a pregnant pause, unsure how to react to Vash admitting that he missed him. The sentiment was more than reciprocated, but… Why? He didn’t necessarily consider himself a bad person, but he was far from a saint. He did what he had to do, and it wasn’t exactly something Spikey had been fond of.
“…Once ya die, yer stuck here. Ya can’t go back home.” Wolfwood said, wondering if the finality of that really meant anything to Vash at all. Probably not, but…He didn’t deserve to be stuck in a place like this. “Ya’ve got a chance at livin’ back home, ‘n with Knives gone, the ships from Earth’ll be able ta get everyone outta there. ‘Sides, the short girl’s probably missin’ you as we speak.”
Bringing Meryl into this might make him see reason. He wasn’t worth staying with, couldn’t he understand that?
--
Vash's face became solemn as Wolfwood told him that he had a chance of living back home. He wasn't sure what he was more conflicted over; the fact that the dead couldn't leave the City... or the fact that Wolfwood expected him to keep on living after Knives had been taken care of.
"Right," he said quietly. "Well... Maybe it's not so... important that I get back... I mean, after all, Knives is here. As long as he's here, he can't be back on that planet, right? Maybe it'd be better if we both just stayed here."
There wasn't any room for Vash or Knives back home anyway. There couldn't be. And Vash knew that there wasn't any easy way of making Wolfwood understand that.
--
Wait, wasn’t Knives not being wherever Spikey was a good thing? Confused wasn’t a natural expression for Wolfwood but he seemed to be pulling it off pretty well. How could it be better for the both of them to be here? He couldn’t mean that keeping Knives alive was what he had planned all along… Not after half the shit he’d done.
“’Course it’s important that ya get back. Haven’t ya heard everyone talkin’? This place is a disaster waitin’ ta happen,” he tried to rationalize, insistent that staying here was not a good idea. If tonight was supposed to be an example of what to look forward to, well… He wasn’t so sure he wanted to stay here.
“…Spikey, what exactly are ya gonna do ta take care of Knives?” He’d never thought to ask him, really, he’d just assumed… Damn it, he was a fucking idiot. Why would someone who’d never killed anyone decide that killing his psychotic brother would make sense?
--
Vash rubbed his right arm compulsively, stopping himself as quickly as he started. Normally he wouldn't have felt so self-conscious about it, but around Wolfwood he suddenly felt like he was drawing attention to that arm... The arm he had seen mutate and...
"Only what I have to do," Vash replied soberly. "I won't let him have his way. I have to end it."
All of it.
"I'm the only one who can stop him. And that's exactly what I intend to do."
No matter what it does to me.
Vash stared into space for a few seconds, struggling not to become lost in thought. Part of him wondered if he could just end it all here... And continue to live with his friend... Surely it would be better than dying back on Gunsmoke and not knowing what would happen after that. Was that too selfish? He didn't know anymore. Suddenly aware once again of Wolfwood's gaze, Vash looked back up to meet his eyes.
"Sorry... I sort of zoned out for a second," he said guiltily. "Guess I haven't really thought about what being here means in terms of finishing things with him. Heh. I haven't really stopped to think about much of anything since I got here... Maybe part of me just wants everything to stay simpler for a little while longer."
--
Wolfwood’s gaze went to Vash’s arm almost immediately at the first sign of movement; his expression neutral as he looked back to Vash’s face to check for signs that perhaps his ‘power’ had decided to activate itself. Nearly seven months ago he’d had trouble controlling it, since the mess with Hoppered and Hornfreak but it seemed like he was in control when Brad and his found them. That thing with his arm… It scared him. Hell, even he was willing admit that but he wasn’t going anywhere, not now and sure as hell not ever. Still, if it did go off… What the hell was he going to do?
“I figured as much,” he muttered, calloused fingers reaching inside his jacket for another cigarette. It wasn’t a plan, it didn’t even tell him what he was going to do exactly but… He figured it would have to do. He’d probably already stepped over the boundaries of their friendship enough to night by opening his mouth in the first place.
“I guess it can, s’long as he doesn’t try anythin’. Might as well enjoy what little rest we can get, huh?” he mused as he lit up without a moment’s hesitation and took a long drag. Maybe if they were lucky, whatever fucked up idiots who passed for gods around here would see the harm in keeping Knives and his favorite pet psychopath around and send them back. Probably not, but he could hope.
--
"Yeah," Vash said with a real smile this time, "A rest would be good. I've already met quite a few nice people here. You know, I got invited to go to the beach this weekend. I've never been to one of those before. Of course, I won't be swimming, but it should be fun all the same."
Vash was babbling again and he knew it, and while he full intended to keep doing so to steer the conversation somewhere else, for the first time he wondered if he should say more. Just to make sure Wolfwood felt a sense of closure to the conversation.
"Ah..." he said intelligently, promptly kicking himself for it, "Uh..."
IDIOT. TELL HIM.
Vash blinked stupidly. He had always been a good listener. People naturally opened up to him. But when it came to doing that himself...
"...I don't think I'm going to go to bed for a while. Headache. Heh. Hey, we should go check out some of the bars sometime. It sounds like there are a lot of neat places around here..."
...Idiot.
--
His real smiles were always contagious. They had to be, otherwise the small smile tugging at his lips now wouldn’t be there. Vash was rambling again, he knew it, but it was familiar and none of the serious talk they’d had just a moment ago, so he supposed he could let it slide for the moment.
“Beach, huh? Ain’t ever seen one, either. Makes me wonder if it snows in a place like this.” God, he hoped so. After living on a desert planet where it hadn’t rained for nearly one hundred years, the idea of snow seemed impossible but it got him hoping. Maybe all that crap going on outside would be worth it, if he got to see snow.
Wolfwood’s smile faltered when his friend spoke up again; brows creasing as he tried to think of what else it was he could have to say. Confronting him on what he’d done? He wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, he let it drop almost as soon as he brought it up. It had him at a loss, but he plastered on a smile just as quickly as Vash did. He wasn’t the only one good at hiding behind smiles.
“Maybe ya should take somethin’, huh? I wouldn’t say no to a couple o’ drinks, though. It’d be like old times.” Before the mess, back when they’d met on the bus for the first time. If Vash wasn’t going to mention whatever it was that was eating at him, he wasn’t going to force him to. He saw how well that went over when he tried to get him to talk about his damn hair.