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“Hey!”
A woman’s voice echoes against the stone buildings lining the dirt road.
Vash glances at Wolfwood from the corner of his eye, both men deciding to ignore it as they walk side by side. They’ve only just arrived into this small town minutes ago, anyone trying to get their attention already would only lead to trouble.
“Please! Wait!” The girl calls even louder now. “Vash the Stampede!”
Vash stops in his tracks, a slow cringe spreading over his face. “You have got to be kidding me.” he mutters, looking over his shoulder to see a young girl running towards them.
“Oh man, thank you for stopping,” She pants, doubled over with her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. “Sorry for chasing you like that, I didn’t think I was gonna be able to catch up.”
“What do you want?” Wolfwood asks, annoyance dripping from his words.
Vash shoots him with a look that would make anyone else cower.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just a little bit cranky.” Vash explains, plastering on a smile he truely doesn’t feel. He’s right there with Wolfwood. They have been traveling non-stop for nearly four days now. Four days riding on Angelina II, four days sleeping rough in the desert, four days of nothing but rations. “What do you need, miss?”
The only things Wolfwood is interested in at the moment is a real meal and a real bed, and a shower if he could be so lucky. The last thing he needs is to get pulled into some bleeding heart task because Vash is incapable of telling anyone no.
“Well, first, you are Vash the stampede right?”
Vash cowers a little, making himself look smaller without even thinking about it. His shoulders are hunched forward as he looks to the left and right to make sure there is no one else listening to them.
“Maybe, but you gotta stop yelling that out loud okay?”
“Can you check out one of our plants?”
“Aren’t you an engineer?” Vash asks, a little bit confused. The girl is wearing a plant uniform, he’s pretty sure.
“Ah, no. I mean, I'm training to be an engineer, but I'm not an official one yet.” She explains. “We only have two engineers for our two plants, and they got called over to the next town over, since they’re having major problems with their plant.” “So call them and tell them to come back?”
“I’m talking about major problems, man. They’re already there and they can’t leave or the other plant won’t make it.”
“Seems pretty irresponsible if you ask me, to leave a bunch of wanna be engineers in charge of a bunch of plants.” Wolfwood says, pushing his sunglasses and leveling the girl with a flippant look.
“No one could have predicted that this was going to happen, we’re trying everything to fix what’s wrong with what we know, but it’s too complicated for us. it’ll be fine for a few more days maybe, but...” The girl says with a frown. “If this plant goes down, then we won’t have any water for days”
Vash glances back at Wolfwood, the other man letting his shades fall back down with a roll of his eyes. It’s obvious that Wolfwood doesn’t want him to stick his nose into this, but what choice does he have?
“Please Mr. Vash, we’ve all heard what you’ve done for other towns.”
“I guess I can come take a look, but you have got to stop saying my name like that.” Vash sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He had just wanted to lie low, let Wolfwood have a relaxing night for once. He definitely didn’t plan on playing engineer tonight. “Is it alright if I come by in like, twenty minutes?”
“Yeah! Thank you so much Mr. Vash!” And with that she’s off, running back in the direction of the town's plants.
“I think this is a bad idea, Tongari. You know what happens, we can’t afford to stop moving that long.”
“I know,” Vash says with a frown. “I don’t want that to happen either, but I can still take a look, maybe it’s nothing, or maybe I can just walk them through what to do.”
Wolfwood’s not too hopeful that will be the case, it almost never is when someone is desperate enough to ask Vash for help.
“We could just skip town.” Wolfwood suggests, only half joking. But also completely serious.
“Nicholas!” Vash says, admonishingly, placing his hand over his heart. “I’m not gonna leave them without water.”
“I know, I know. You want me to come with you?” Wolfwood offers, because he’ll always go with, if Vash asks. But he doesn’t want to. He never quite liked getting too close to the bulbs the plants were kept in. Never liked the way it made him feel.
“No, I can handle it on my own. Let’s just find a place to stay, so I can get this over with.”
“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid, alright?
Wolfwood has been nursing the same beer for the last hour. And it’s been at least two hours since Vash left to go check out the town’s plant, just as he promised.
He’s taking a little too long for Wolfwood’s tastes, if he’s honest. Vash is fully capable of taking care of himself, Wolfwood knows this, but he’s also a magnet for trouble, and when other plants are involved… Wolfwood shudders.
Maybe he shouldn’t have let Vash go on his own after all.
He is about to down the rest of his drink and head over to the plant anyway, just to see what’s going on when Vash comes stumbling in, leaning heavily against the door jamb, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
Knowing Vash, It probably is.
“Needle-noggin?”
When Vash lifts his head, he stares off into the distance, his eyes roaming back and forth over the room until they finally settle and focus on Wolfwood. He sways in the doorway for a few seconds before taking a single heavy step forward.
Wolfwood is up and at Vash’s side within a fraction of a second. “What’s going on?” But he barely gets the words out before Vash drops as if the strings holding him up were cut, falling forward and into Wolfwood’s waiting arms.
“Sorry about him,” Wolfwood says as he hefts Vash’s body into a better position. The bartender is eyeing them suspiciously from behind the bar, and he needs to divert the attention. “We’ve been traveling for what feels like years, he’s just a little tired. You know how it is.” he adds with a nervous laugh.
“He better not cause any problems, waltzin’ in here drunk off his ass already.”
“Oh no worries here, sir!” Wolfwood says quickly, adjusting his grip on Vash as his lanky form slips down. “We are actually on our way out right now, so he won’t be any trouble at all!”
Vash comes to just a few seconds later, patting Wolfwood's chest with an uncoordinated, floppy arm. “M’ok, W’fwood…”
“Sure you are Blondie.” Wolfwood mutters, tugging Vash’s arm up over his shoulder and pulling him close to his side with an arm wrapped around his waist. “And I'm a millionaire.”
Wolfwood gently pulls Vash along with him, and Vash immediately trips over his own feet, his legs feeling so heavy it’s hard to get one in front of the other.
“We don’t have t’leave, Nick.” Vash slurs, hanging, a near dead weight, in Wolfwood’s hold.
“Oh, you wanna pass out at the bar?” Wolfwood asks, shouldering the door open and stepping outside. “I don’t think so. You ain't gonna be conscious for much longer, I can tell.’
Vash whines, a pitiful sound in the back of his throat.
“Thought I told you not to do anything stupid?”
“Wasn’t my fault.” Vash mumbles, his head lolling forward, his chin nearly touching his chest. He’s definitely leaning heavier on Wolfwood than he was even a minute before. “Wasn’t…”
“Ya know what, I almost believe that.” Wolfwood sighs, he’s heard all of Vash’s excuses before. “Whatever, it’s fine, you don’t have to explain right now, just, save your strength, or whatever.”
Wolfwood sits Vash down on the mattress of one of the beds in the room, it’s a miracle he doesn’t immediately tip to the side, but it looks like he wants to. Instead, Vash’s clumsy, shaking hands start to pull at his coat, trying to navigate his too many buttons.
“Lemme help ya out with that,” Wolfwood says, kneeling on the dirty carpet and lowering vash’s hands to his lap. “At that rate, it’ll take ya all night to get undressed.”
“Would not.” Vash pouts as he lets his eyes fall closed, letting Wolfwood help him with little complaint. Vash’s limbs are like noodles, not offering much in the way of assistance as Wolfwood tries to wrestle him out of his compression shirt and into a soft sleep shirt.
“Man, it really took it out of you this time, huh?” Wolfwood makes quick work of his belt. It doesn’t take much coaxing to get Vash to lay back on the bed, just a single finger pushing against his chest enough to do the job.
Vash groans, feeling every lump and bump of the mattress beneath his back. He feels so awful, like his whole chest has been scooped out, left hollow and aching. Empty in a way that feels unnatural.
He wants to help Nick, he wants to be able to do anything as Nick undresses him with careful hands and love that he doesn’t deserve. But moving feels like too much, his legs hanging limp off the side of the bed.
“M’sorry, Nick.”
“Can it, Spikes, I know you are.” Wolfwood sighs, lifting Vash’s legs and swinging them up onto the bed. Vash has the strength to push himself to the head of the bed, his head coming to rest on a lumpy pillow, but little else. “I left you alone and you did your thing, it’s what you do. I’m not mad. Maybe a little worried, but not mad.”
“It wasn’t like that…”
“I don’t need an explanation,” Wolfwood says, patting Vash on the hip before he gets up, leaving Vash laying on the bed. “Get some rest.”
Wolfwood shuts himself in the small bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, he sighs as he leans forward on his arms. He can’t stop the anxiety that eats away at him, his belly twisting into knots as he thinks about Vash in the other room.
The last time Vash had given himself to one of his sisters like this, the fall out had lasted for three whole days, in which Vash burned with a fever so high that it had Woflwood concerned for the state of his brain. That had been maybe eight months ago.
When Vash returned to lucidity, he’d asked him if something like that happens every time he helps another plant.
“Not every time.”
Vash had refused to talk about it anymore after he got better, so he’s not sure exactly what had happened the previous times. But wolfwood couldn’t help but wonder if that had happened before, when Vash had no one to look after him. Did he hide himself away in a shitty motel, fever burning away until his body recovered from what he freely gave away.
That’s probably exactly what happened.
At least this time Wolfwood can prepare for what’s about to come.
After a quick shower and change of clothes, Wolfwood quietly steps back into the room, and while Vash has turned onto his side, Wolfwood can tell by the way he’s holding himself, tense and stiff, that he’s still awake.
Slowly, Wolfwood rounds the bed, his suspicions confirmed when he finds Vash staring at the wall, curled in on himself and shivering, still laying on top of the threadbare blankets.
“Hey,” Wolfwood whispers, perching himself on the edge of the bed, and now that he’s closer, he can see the tears that slowly leak from the corners of Vash’s eyes with each slow blink. Wolfwood brushes Vash’s hair back, letting his hand rest against his forehead. Wolfwood swears he’s already a few degrees too warm. “Stop fightin’ it and go to sleep.”
Wolfwood feels overwhelming fondness squeezing his heart when Vash turns to press into his hand when it settles against his cheek. That fondness is quickly overridden with sympathy when a pitiful whine pours out of Vash in response, his eyes squeezing shut.
“I know, I know,” Wolfwood coos, thumbing away the tear that crests of the bridge of his nose. He leans down, pressing his lips to his forehead, speaking his next words into Vash’s skin. “Just close your eyes.”
When Wolfwood pulls back, Vash is looking up at him with the saddest eyes, exhaustion already so clear on his face.
“Who knows, maybe you can just sleep through the worst of it and you’ll feel better in the morning.”
Vash sighs, he can already tell that he’s not going to get that lucky, but he keeps it to himself. He shivers, even as he feels the heat of fever licking at him from deep within his core. He grabs the blanket, and makes a half-hearted attempt to pull it free enough that he could possibly get underneath and chase away the chill of the room.
“Here, hold on, let me just,” Wolfwood starts to say, before standing. Vash watches as he eases the blanket out from under him, spreading it over his curled up form with a flick of his wrists. It does little to warm him, but the weight of it is comforting nonetheless. And when Wolfwood sits back next to him, he offers an even more comforting touch.
“Thanks,” Vash whispers, finally letting his eyes slip closed, drifting a little as Nick’s hand rubs his arm, up and down, up and down. The repetitive motion soothing to him, until he feels Nick pull away, and some feral, instinctual part of Vash panics, his eyes snapping open and his hand weakly grasping Wolfwood’s wrist.
“Relax, Blondie,” Wolfwood says, lowering himself back down to the bed. Instead of walking around the bed, he climbs over Vash, slipping in behind him, wrapping his arms around Vash’s waist and pulling him flush against him. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”
It’s dark when Wolfwood wakes. He and Vash have separated at some point in the night, but even still, Wolfwood can feel heat built up under the covers.
Vash lays next to him, brows knit together deeply even in his sleep, muttering under his breath.
Wolfwood sighs, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. He dozes for a while, every little sound outside of the room pulling him back out of slumber. He must fall back asleep at some point, because the next time he opens his eyes, Vash is tossing and turning, tangled in the thin blanket next to him.
“Vash,” Wolfwood whispers, his voice loud in the quiet of the room, with only Vash’s quick breathing echoing against the walls.
He reaches out, and when he touches Vash’s shoulder he nearly recoils. Vash’s skin is already so hot, Wolfwood’s not sure how he’s not literally burning up. “So much for you feelin’ better by mornin’.” he thinks to himself.
“Wake up.” He shakes Vash, the man's eyes snapping open, panting as he scans the room with glassy and unfocused eyes, still straining against the blanket that pins his arms to his torso. He doesn’t calm down until his gaze lands on Wolfwood, the only beacon of safety in his hazy mind.
It hits him like a truck how fucking awful he feels, in the short few hours he’s been asleep. His head pounds, skin sensitive in the way it only gets with high fever, and he feels like he has a whole body bruise. It leaves him breathless.
“You’re burnin’ up.” Wolfwood says, moving his hand to rest against Vash’s forehead.
“I know.” Vash slurs, his tongue feels too big in his mouth, dry and stuck and just getting those two words out feels difficult. His thoughts are equally hard to wrangle, each fleeting thought slow, like trying to wade through molasses. He watches as Wolfwood sits up, blinking slowly while Wolfwood easily frees him from the blanket that had him trapped.
Wolfwood leaves him again, and he’s powerless to stop him this time, his limbs too heavy to reach out. Instead, Vash floats on waves of pain, alone and stranded in the dark. He’s not sure how long he lays there, fading in and out of awareness. He only snaps back to the present when something ice cold is laid across his forehead.
Vash’s eyes flutter open, and he lifts a heavy arm, only for it to be pushed back to the bed.
“Easy, it’s just a cold rag.” Wolfwood says, repositioning the folded piece of fabric when it slips. “It’s the only thing we’ve got to cool you down.”
Vash heaves a heavy sigh, looking at Wolfwood with half lidded eyes. He wants to apologize for putting Nick in this situation again, but his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, and he’s not sure he could get words out again anyway, not in an intelligible way. Vash reaches fumbling hand, grabbing blindly until Wolfwood tangles their fingers together. It’s the best Vash can give him right now.
“You should try to get more rest while you can.”
He can only hope that the fever will break, sooner rather than later.
Sun spilling across the bed is what wakes Vash the next day, assaulting his eyes as soon as he opens them, the pounding at the base of his skull and behind his eyes intensifying immediately. He groans as he turns himself over, away from the offending rays.
That’s when he notices that Wolfwood is gone.
“Wolfwood?” Vash calls, his voice rough and his throat dry. The punisher is propped in the corner, so he figures that he can’t have gone too far.
Or so Vash hopes. He doesn’t hear anyone else in the room with him, only the sounds of the inn and the other people moving around. Footsteps above him, knocking down the hall, a fight in the lobby if the yells are anything to go by.
It all leaves Vash feeling a lot more vulnerable than he’d like to be when he’s in this state, weak and hurting. Panic starts to grow in him, his breathing starting to become erratic as his fingers twist into the bed sheets.
A dull ringing in his ears is starting to overtake all the other sounds around him, so he doesn’t hear the faint click of the door. Nor does he notice that Wolfwood steps into the room.
“You would wake up when I step out for a minute.” Wolfwood says, closing and locking the door behind him. He holds a small paper bag in his arms. He frowns when Vash flinches with his entire body. “Geez, Spikey, sorry, I didn’t mean to spook ya.”
Vash lets his head fall back to the bed, Wolfwood presence almost immediately soothing the panic back down to a more manageable level. His heart, which had been racing, slows as he takes measured breaths.
Wolfwood pulls the curtains, throwing the room into shadow, only lit by a small lamp next to the bedside. Vash hears the crinkling of the paper bag before the bed dips, Wolfwood sitting on the other half of it. He presses his hand to Vash’s cheek, a motion that has become very familiar over the past day.
“I swear to god, you somehow feel even hotter now. How the hell are you not boiling in your own skull?” Wolfwood says.
“Pretty sure I am, actually” Vash mutters with a grimace. Wolfwood’s hand is so cold on his overheated skin, it’s almost uncomfortable, but at the same time, his touch is grounding, soothing.
“I bet.” Wolfwood turns away, taking the chill of his hand with him, Vash watches as he pulls things out of the paper bag. A couple small containers, some hunks of bread. “Think you can sit up?”
Vash manages to push himself up on shaking arms, his prosthetic sending electric impulses across his nerves and the sensitive skin around the port where it attaches to his arm. Moving just accentuates the ache deep in his bones and joints and how wrong his skin feels, amplifying the texture of the sheets and sharp bite of the headboard against his back.
Wolfwood is right there, settling one of the pillows behind him, but it’s so thin it doesn’t really help much.
“‘Thanks.” Vash says, trying to shift into a somewhat comfortable position, but he quickly gives up.
“You look like shit.” Wolfwood says as he straightens the blanket over Vash’s lap. Except for the fever flush on his cheeks, Vash’s skin is devoid of color, he almost looks translucent with dark bags under his eyes, and his hair deflated and stuck to his forehead.
“Feel like it.”
Just the act of sitting up sapped any strength that Vash might have had left, the carved out feeling in his chest back, and each breath he draws feels like it takes a monumental effort. He lets his eyes slip closed again.
“Nuh uh, Needle-noggin’,” Wolfwood’s hands grasp his shoulders, stopping his slow slide sideways, one hand reaching up to gently pat at his cheek. “Come on, open your eyes for me.”
Vash opens his eyes with a sharp inhalation, “sorry, m’ awake.” But he can barely keep his eyes open.
“Stop apologizing already.”
‘Why?’ Vash wants to ask, it’s his fault he’s in this situation, but he doesn’t have the fight in him to have that argument right now.
“Think you could eat something?”
“I dunno.” Vash sighs, his body being kept upright solely by wolfwood’s hand which now rests on his side. He is definitely not hungry, and at the moment, he’s not nauseous. But he’s not sure he wants to chance eating and make that change. “Think i’m too tired to eat.”
“Wrong answer, actually,” Wolfwood says, and he’s not leaving this up for debate. The last time this happened, he hadn’t been able to get anything into Vash for days. He cautiously lets Vash go, tucking another pillow between him on the headboard to wedge him upright. “You have got to try.”
Wolfwood peels a lid off of one of the containers and pushes it into vash’s hand, the savory aroma of soup fills the room. “I figured this would be easy enough for you to eat, on the off chance it ends up comin’ back up later.
Vash just looks at it, face blank except for the frown on his lips. “Very considerate of you.”
“I’m thoughtful like that.”
Vash just stares at the take away container, steam drifting from the surface.
“Staring at it isn’t gonna help, sweetheart.” Wolfwood mutters a few minutes later, resting his hand on Vash’s thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth. “Just try to have a few spoonfuls. I’ll feed you myself if I gotta, don’t test me.”
Vash pouts at him then. But he takes a small sip of the broth directly from the bowl. It’s good, what little he can taste of it. It’s mostly just salty and warm. He eyes the bread on the table, contemplating grabbing a piece. It looks fresh and soft, probably freshly baked judging by the smell. But chewing sounds like too much of a task.
He manages to eat half of it, which is better than nothing.
Wolfwood mills around the room, going through his bag, shifting things around. When he looks up to check on Vash, he finds him with the little paper bowl resting in his lap.
He smiles despite the circumstances, perching on the side of the bed again, he takes the soup container from Vash, startling him awake, again.
“Sorry.” Vash hums, his eyes pinching closed again as soon as they open, even the dull light in the room hurting his head. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep again.”
“You can sleep, if you want, after you drink some water.”
He hands Vash one of their canteens, watches as Vash takes it with a shaking hand, but he notices that he doesn’t support himself with his prosthetic arm, he hadn’t used it before either.
“How’s the arm?”
“Pretty uncomfortable.” Vash admits quietly, his prosthetic fingers twitching in his lap, Just trying to move his arm makes horrible electric shocks shoot up his shoulder and into his neck and across his back. “Would you?”
“‘Course, come here,” Wolfwood scoots a little closer, leaning into Vash’s space. This close, he can feel the unnatural heat radiating off of him, the hot puff of his breaths against his neck as he cranes over him. Even the metal of his arm is hot when it’s usually pretty cool to the touch. “Ready?”
Vash nods, and with one arm underneath Vash’s elbow, he presses the release mechanism, twisting the arm free with a well practiced movement. The weight of the arm transfers from Vash’s shoulder to Wolfwood's waiting hands. It pulls a choked off whine out of Vash as the nerves disconnect, and finally quiet down, followed by a relieved sigh.
“Thanks,” Vash breathes out, relaxing back against the headboard. “I don’t think the artificial nerves like it too much when I'm this hot.”
‘I don’t like it either.’ Wolfwood thinks, as he turns back towards Vash after setting the prosthetic on the table. He presses his hand to Vash’s forehead again. “You don’t feel as hot as you were last night, maybe that’s a good sign .”
Wolfowood hopes the fever doesn’t get much higher than this. He really should pick up a thermometer, if only to keep track of the fever. It was so hard to tell sometimes by feel if he was hotter or not. He’s still damn well hot enough that if he were human, he’d be dead.
“Wish you’d just take the fever reducers.”
“They don’t work.” Vash mumbles, leaning into Wolfwood’s hand. “M’Not lying ‘bout that, this is… it’s different, ya know.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever, don’t fall asleep just yet.”
Wolfowod helps Vash drink a few more mouthfuls of water, wipes away the drips that escape from the corner of his lips. When he’s happy with how much he’s drunk, he helps him lay back down and pulls the blanket up to tuck him in.
“You gonna be ok if I leave for a while?”
“Where are you going?” Vash asks, fear instantly making itself known, a slow crawl up his spine
“I gotta see if I can make a few dollars, we don't have enough to stay here for more than a night, and I gotta feeling we’re gonna be here way longer than that.”
Vash can’t even fault Wolfwood for it. He’s right, they were strapped for cash before and this stay wasn’t going to be cheap.
“Would you stay, just until I fall asleep?” Vash asks, his voice quiet and soft, like he’s afraid that Wolfwood will deny his request.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I can do that.”
It’s well past sundown when Wolfwood finally makes it back to their room. It’s fully dark inside, and when he flips on the lamp, the bed is empty.
Luckily, Vash hasn’t gone far. Wolfwood finds him curled up on the floor beside the bed, shivering and delirious. These fevers always burn quickly and always seem to get worse once the suns have set, so Wolfwood can’t say that he’s too surprised to find him like this. He feels guilty about leaving him for so long, but he was able to make enough cash to cover their stay.
“Come on, Blondie,” Wolfwood mutters, mostly to himself. He lifts a limp Vash into his arms, wincing when Vash’s face tips to press against his neck, the unnatural heat that would be a death sentence for a human is unmistakably higher than when he left. “Back to bed with you.”
Nick lowers him gently to the bed, supporting his head until he’s resting on the pillow. Without his support, it lolls to the side, his eyes now half open with a glassy, far away gaze.
“I guess this is what I get for leaving you alone this long,” Wolfwood says, mostly talking to hear himself, but also with the hope that his voice might reach Vash. “Didn’t mean to do that by the way, just got caught up with a job.”
“It was a good one though,” Wolfwood says, digging a clean pair of boxers out of Vash’s bag. “Made more than enough to cover our stay and then some.”
Wolfwood starts to pull Vash’s shirt over his head, it’s thoroughly soaked through with sweat. He tries to be as gentle as possible, but it’s hard when the person you're undressing is unable to help. Wolfwood lifts Vash’s shoulders from the bed, just enough to slip the shirt from under his shoulders.
“Wha’ are you doin’?” Vash slurs, finally waking up as Wolfwood is trying to work his damp boxers down his legs.
“I’m trying to get you into dry clothes, you big dummy.”
“Leave me alone.” Vash mutters, a whine, pitiful and ragged spills from him, and he tries to squirm away from him, but he’s not strong enough to break Wolfwood’s hold. “Please, stop, please…”
Vash sounds so scared, and that is more than enough to stop him in his tracks.
“It’s me, Spikes,” Wolfwood says, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. He places his hand on Vash’s chest, not holding him down, but hoping the touch gets through whatever Vash is seeing right now. He hates that he’s causing him distress, even inadvertently. “It’s just me, Nicholas.”
“Nick?” Vash mutters, and he does seem to calm at the sound of his voice, so maybe he’s not quite as far gone as Wolfwood thought.
“Yeah, I’m just trying to get you a little more comfortable, alright?”
Vash sighs heavily, but he goes slack back against the bed, still breathing a little too quickly for Wolfwood to feel comfortable about. He’s pale and sweaty and flushed from cheek to chest. But he lets Wolfwood pull the dry boxers up his legs, watching him through eyes that are barely open.
Wolfwood scrubs a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, step one, he needs to try and cool Vash down a little bit.
“I have a feeling you’re not going to like this very much, but I want you to remember somethin’, Needle-noggin,” Wolfwood says, settling himself on the edge of the bed with an old rag and his canteen. “I am doing this to help you.”
Vash gives no indication that he even heard him, so he soaks the rag in cold water, and gently touches it to Vash’s overheated skin. But as soon as the cold fabric comes into contact with his skin, cool water dripping down his chest, Vash sucks in a shuddering gasp.
“No.. Nai, no please.” Vash begs, squirming away on the bed with a new found strength.
There’s that guilt, yet again, for causing Vash distress when he’s just trying to help him.
“You’re alright, spikey,” Wolfwood shushes him, one hand in the center of his chest again, pressing down just enough to hold him down and keep him from moving away, even as Vash weakly wraps his fingers around Wolfwood’s wrist. “It’s still just me, it’s just Nick.
He presses the rag to the side of vash’s neck and holds it there, Vash responds by thrashing his head to the side, begging for him, for Nai, to stop with a whimpering sob.
“I’m sorry, Vash.” Wolfwood says, feeling tears sting at his own eyes. He gently rubs his fingers in small circles where they rest on his chest, hoping that some of that comforting touch might get through the delirium. “You’re fine, it’s okay.”
And just like that, Vash’s hand falls back to the bed, like he’s just given up. Vash blinks and tears drip down from the corner of his eyes.
Wolfwood, so gently, more gently than he ever thought himself possible to be, brushes the tears away with the pad of his thumb. He carefully wipes his face down, smoothing the rag over sharp cheekbones, the curves of his nose, chapped lips, and over his sweaty forehead.
Wolfwood isn’t used to being gentle, but for Vash, it comes easily.
Wolfwood holds Vash’s face, the other brushing his hair back. Vash looks through him, his eyes half lidded, his gaze far away, eyes glazed over.
“You’re safe, Vash.” Wolfwood whispers, pressing his forehead to Vash’s. “I’m here, I’m right here with you.”
Wolfwood falls into a routine for the next couple of days.
Vash remains very much the same — unconscious, and when he’s not, he’s hallucinating or having a nightmare and talking to people that aren’t there.
Brad, Luida, Rem… Nai…
He’s lost count of how many times he’s taken the rag from Vash’s forehead to run under the cold water from the sink, in a desperate attempt to lower the fever that is burning him from the inside. He half expects the water to sizzle everytime it hits his overheated, reddened skin.
Getting him to drink anything is a losing battle too, each time he tries to help him drink a little bit of water, he ends up choking on what little bit ends up in his mouth, the rest dribbling down his chin.
Never enough for how hot he is, for how dry his skin has become. But it’s all Wolfwood can do, knowing full well that Vash’s body is going to burn until it makes up for whatever weird plant thing he ended up having to do.
He’s sitting on the floor, the punisher spread out around him in pieces, each part and gear and spring meticulously cleaned. It’s rote, the act of maintenance, and it helps to calm his mind as he loses himself in the menial task, and for a while it’s just him, his gun, and the rags and oil and brushes he uses.
He’s also indulging in his first cigarette in days, the rush of nicotine after the first drag is euphoric as the smoke fills his lungs.
It’s nearly smoked down to the filter when Vash starts to mumble in his sleep again.
Wolfwood holds the center mechanism in his hands, cleaning sand and grit out the small grooves with a brush, but he glances over towards the bed. Vash lies there, ever unchanging, still asleep as far as he can tell. His eyes are closed, but there’s quick darting movements happening beneath his lids.
“No… please….” Vash whispers, face pulled into a grimace.
“Vash,” Wolfwood calls, the cigarette hanging from his lips, hoping that the sound of his voice might be enough to calm him, to bring him out of whatever nightmare his feverish mind is forcing upon him. “It’s alright.”
“Leave him alone…” Vash begs, his voice breaking, sounding wet and broken, the rustling of sheets as he starts to kick his legs. “Nicholas… no please, no… no, no, no… not him…”
At the sound of Vash’s obvious distress, Wolfwood drops what he’s doing, the trigger mechanism falling to the ground with a solid thud. He nearly trips over one of the bigger frame pieces of the Punisher trying to get to the bed.
Vash is crying, fat tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and soaking into the thin pillow, by the time he makes it across the small room. He perches himself on the edge of the bed, half leaning over Vash and Vash instantly grabs hold of him with more strength than he’s had in days.
“Vash, hey,” Wolfwood says, pitching his voice down, he cups his cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb, an action that has become way too common. “Everythings okay, nothing’s happening to me, I'm right here.”
Vash’s arm scrambles along his back, until he gets his hand twisted into his shirt, his eyes open, and for one fraction of a second, he’s sure Vash recognizes him, and hopes that he might be lucid, if only for a moment. Until he starts to sob.
Harsh, wracking sobs in between shuddering breaths that leave him choking on air.
“Jesus christ, Spikey,” Wolfwood says, feeling scared, truly scared since this whole thing started. He does the only thing he can think of, pulling Vash up into his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace, one hand supporting the back of his head, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Without realizing, he starts to hum an old song that Miss Melanie used to sing back at Hopeland.
He holds Vash so tightly, rocking him gently back and forth until Vash’s crying slowly calms. Wolfwood isn’t sure what exactly helps, the holding, the pressure, the humming and rocking, but whatever it was, helped. And he’s happy to hold Vash all night long if that’s what he has to do.
It’s the middle of the night when Vash sits bolt upright, so suddenly it scares Wolfwood, who still had him held loosely in his arms.
“Vash?” Wolfwood gasps, looking around the room for any danger, an automatic response. “What’s wrong?”
“Gonna throw up.” Vash chokes out, tumbling out of the bed and onto the floor when his legs refuse to hold his weight.
“Please don’t throw up on the floor.” Wolfwood pleads, spilling out right after Vash. He grabs him under the armpits and bodily drags him to the bathroom. He barely gets him in front of the toilet in time before Vash’s body is heaving, trying to expel anything and everything.
“Let it out,” Wolfwood murmurs, rubbing his back, hoping it helps even a little bit.
Vash chokes on streams of bile, green and black, coughing and heaving, barely able to get a breath in between each violent expulsion, his back arching with the force of it.
Wolfwood is there, kneeling next to him on the cold floor the whole time, with one arm braced around his chest. If he’s right, and he’s positive he is, that’s the only thing keeping Vash from face planting directly into the toilet.
Vash is left panting, hanging limply in Wolwoods arms, sweat dripping down his face, head hanging forward.
Wolfwood gently maneuvers him until they’re sitting back against the wall, vash’s head resting on Wolfwood's shoulder, Vash’s hand weakly gripping Wolfwood's arm.
“Think you’re done?” Wolfwood asks, his voice quiet, as if speaking louder in the small bathroom would break the false stillness that is only punctuated by Vash’s labored breaths.
Vash only nods.
Wolfwood heaves them both back to standing, Vash leaning all of his weight into him, his head hanging limply forward again like he just doesn’t have the strength to hold it up any more. It’s easy then, to scoop Vash up in his arms and carry him back to bed.
He eases Vash back down onto the other bed, since the bed he’s been lying in has seen better days. This one is at least clean and dry.
When Wolfwood pulls back, Vash is looking up at him, really looking at him, for the first time in days.
“Hey,” Wolfwood says softly, pulling up a leg and sitting on the bed. “You still with me?”
“Yeah,” Vash rasps out, his voice absolutely wrecked from the bout of vomiting. He pulls in a deep breath, letting it out just as slowly. He takes in Wolfwood’s appearance, and he just looks so tired, deep dark bag under his eyes, hair sticking up every direction, concern etched into his expression. He wonders how many days it’s been since he’s been awake. “M’Sorry.”
‘I told ya before, you don't have to apologize.”
“I hate putting you through this.”
“If that were true you wouldn’t do it.”
Vash sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “That’s not true.” Another tear slips from the corner of his eye.
“I know, needle-noggin.” Wolfwood says, wiping away Vash’s tears again, before pressing his lips to Vash’s forehead. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but it feels like his fever might be breaking. “I know. That was out of line of me. How’re you feelin’?”
Vash takes a moment to think about it. He still aches, all of his joints, all of his scars, his skin feeling stretched too tightly over his bones. His head pounds and his eyes burn.
“Still hurt, still feel like shit, but maybe not as shit.”
Wolfwood hums, running his hand through Vash’s hair. He doesn’t care how greasy it has gotten, not with the way Vash pushes into his palm.”
“I’ll be right back ok?”
Wolfwood gets changed into something comfortable, and slips into the bed next to Vash, pulling him close to his chest. Vash presses himself as close as he can get to Wolfwood, slinging his arm over his waist.
Between Wolfwood’s warmth, his scent, and the soothing feeling of his hand rubbing his back, Vash feels a lot better. Surrounded by Wolfwood, he finally drifts off into a peaceful sleep.
Wolfwood wakes wrapped around Vash, the sun just starting to peek through the slightly parted curtains. He breathes in deeply, slowly stretching his legs out, blinking open still tired eyes. Vash slept through the entire night, and that means he did too. And he seems to be resting easier this morning, he looks peaceful for the first time in days. His breathing seems to be a little easier too, only a quiet wheeze remains.
Things might finally be turning up for them.
Wolfwood untangles himself from Vash, slowly, unwilling to wake him when he’s finally resting easily. He shuffles around the room, pulling on a clean shirt and collecting the sheets and blankets from Vash’s sick bed, all soiled. He carries the bundle of fabric down stairs, with a hope in his chest that this will all be behind them in a day or so, and they will finally be able to get back on the road.
He’s intercepted by a small group of people, standing around the checkin counter, as soon as he makes it down the stairs.
“Speak of the devil.” A woman says. He’s seen her around their whole stay, figures that she might be the owner. “We need to talk to you.”
“Me?” Wolfwood says, looking over his shoulder, thinking they can’t possibly mean him. They haven’t done a damn thing this whole stay, he’s barely left the damn room.
“Yeah you, you are with stampede aren’t you?”
“Depends.” Wolfwood's eyes narrow, it’s almost never good when the townspeople start to show a sudden interest in Vash. “What’s your next question gonna be?”
“We’ve all decided that you two have overstayed your welcome. You’re gonna have to be out of here in the next hour.”
“Excuse me?” Wolfwood exclaims, dropping the soiled bedding unceremoniously to the floor where he stands. He’s sure he’s misheard, they can’t possibly be suggesting what he thinks they are.
“You’re not welcome to stay here any longer,'' one of the other men says. “In fact, you’ve already been here too long, everyone knows that trouble follows Stampede wherever he goes.”
“Do I need to remind you ingrates that we have been her this long because he’s sick, really fucking sick, because he helped your plant?”
“Well, if we had known this would be the outcome, we wouldn’t have allowed him to do it.”
“Oh that's great, that’s really great, so you would have let your town go without water?”
“I’d rather have this place still standing and without water then reduced to rubble if someone comes after Vash the Stampede.”
“And we heard news that there’s a band of bounty hunters in the area, and that they’re looking for him. So we need you out of here in the next hour. Please.”
“This is fucking outrageous, you’re really going to make me take a man who can’t stand up straight and send us out into the middle of the desert in the middle of the damn day?” Wolfwood yells, balling his fists at his side hard enough that his nails cut into his palms. If he doesn’t do that he’s afraid he might get into a fist fight over this. He should get into a fight over this. “We just need two more days! He put his life on the line to help y’all and this is the thanks he's going to get for it?”
“Sir, with respect, we care more about our town than him.”
Wolfwood sees red as soon as he processes the words. He would be ending some lives right now, if he wasn’t worried about having to explain it to Vash later.
Either way, he’s taking Vash out of here whether he likes it or not.
“Fine, fuckin’ FINE!” Wolfwold yells, turning and stomping his way back up the stairs. He turns half way to add, “I want everyone out of here when I bring him down. Twenty minutes. I don't want to see a damn soul. I swear to god, if I do, I will kill them.”
The adrenaline rushes through his veins, leaving his hands shaking and his breathing heavy as he tries to reign in the anger trying to claw its way out of his rib cage.
Wolfwood bursts into their hotel room, anger over riding any guilt he might feel for the way it makes Vash jerk away, sitting half way up in bed.
“Wha’s happening?” Vash mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
Wolfwood stops in the middle of the room, one arm crossed over his chest, the other raised with his fingers pressing against his eyes as he takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself down even a miniscule amount.
“I know this is the last thing you’re gonna want to hear,” Wolfwood grits out, starting to shove clothing into his and Vash’s duffles. “But we need to get out of here.”
“Okay,” Vash mutters, sitting fully up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He’s overcome with an intense wave of dizziness as soon as he’s upright, and he tries to breathe through it. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you all about it, once we’re on the road,” Wolfwood says, pulling out some clothes for Vash. When he approaches the bed, Wolfwood picks up the prosthetic, and the frown he gets from Vash is almost enough to change his mind. “I know you don’t want to have this on right now, but I need you to be able to protect yourself, if it comes to it.”
Vash presses his lips together, before sighing. He knows that Wolfwood is right, but it doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it, not when he’s still sore and his skin is still sensitive Vash holds his stump out so that Wolfwood can twist the prosthetic back into place with a click. It hurts going back on, an ache that immediately syncs with the beating of his heart. Something that wouldn't be going away until he’s fully recovered.
“Think you can dress yourself?”
“Yeah, I can manage that.” Vash takes the clothing that Wolfwood offers him, one of Wolfwood’s button downs, and his own sweatpants. “Do you want some help?”
“Nah, you just put those on, I'm gonna take everything down stairs.”
Vash does manage to get himself dressed, but it takes all of what little energy he had from his one good night of sleep. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands tucked between his legs, hunched over and shivering, when Wolfwood gets back.
It looks like it is taking everything he’s got to keep himself upright.
Wolfwood kneels in front of Vash, and his heart clenches. He’d been looking so much better just a half an hour ago, but now he’s pale again, shivers shaking his frame.
“Ready to go?” Wolfwood asks as he slips Vash’s sunglasses on to his nose.
“Yeah,” Vash sighs. “I’m… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it down on my own.”
Wolfwood curses the town again, he’s already got plans if he ever makes it out this way ever again.
“That’s alright, Angel,” Wolfwood says, keeping the anger out of his voice as best he can. Vash is sensitive and Wolfwood doesn’t need to be upsetting him. He reaches past Vash, pulling the blanket up and around Vash’s shoulders, guiding his hand to hold it in place. “I was plannin’ on carrying you outta here anyway.”
He lifts Vash into his arms, and carries him down the stairs to the thankfully empty hotel and empty streets.
“Where is everyone?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Wolfwood says, bundling him into Angelina II’s sidecar. “I’m sure they’re just busy.”
With the town fading out of view in the side view mirrors, Wolfwood can’t help but curse them again, for forcing him to take a weakened and still feverish Vash out into the midday suns. It’s inhuman, is what it is. Even for Wolfwood, who is healthy, the heat is borderline unbearable. He can’t imagine how it must feel for Vash, not when he knows that when he’s like this, he’s sensitive to it.
They’ve only been driving for twenty minutes and Vash is already slumped against the wall of the sidecar, pale and sweating.
“Drink some water, needle-noggin’.” Wolfwood yells, speaking loud enough to be heard over Angelina II’s engine. “And pull that blanket up over your head ya damn fool.”
“It’s too hot, Nick.” Vash mutters, barely audible, but he dutifully sips on the canteen that sits in his lap. .
“I don’t care, it’s better than the sun beatin’ down on you.” Wolfwood says, reaching over and pulling the blanket up anyway. “Just for a little while, shouldn’t be too much longer”
Wolfwood checked the map before they left, and if he’s right, about an hour outside of town they should be able to find a cave to shelter in. He really hopes he’s right, the last thing he wants to do is keep on going until they hit the next town. That’s too many iles to drive in the heat.
Maybe ten more minutes pass before he hears a dull thunk, the canteen slipping from Vash’s fingers.
“Blondie?” Wolfwood says, worry evident in his voice. “Vash? Answer me?”
When he steals a glance to the sidecar, he sees Vash unconscious. He remains silent, his expression slack where the blanket has slipped down around his shoulders.
Wolfwood hits the throttle, speeding over the dunes.
To say that Wolfwood is relieved when the rock structures that were indicated on the map finally crest over the next dune would be an understatement. He skids the bike to a stop in front of an entrance to what he hopes is a cave. He scrambles off her, nearly tripping as he fails to gain stable footing in the soft sand, but he rounds the side car, quickly lifting Vash into his arms.
The shelter offered by the rocks is shielded from the sun, and while it might be a little generous to call it a cave, it’s so much cooler than the surrounding area.
Wolfwood lays Vash on the ground, taking off his own jacket and balling it up under Vash’s head as a makeshift pillow
“Vash?” Wolfwood tries again, but Vash is still unresponsive. He opens Vash’s shirt, and with as much water as he thinks they can spare he wets a rag. Wolfwood wipes a cool cloth over his chest before dragging it up the the side of his neck, holding it there against his pulse point.
He can only hope that Vash’s biology helps to regulate his temperature quickly.
Wolfwood is still sitting next to Vash, his head resting on his knees, his eyes closed, when the other man finally blinks his eyes open.
“Nick?” Vash mutters, his voice hoarse. He lifts a hand to his head, pressing his palm against his temple. His head hurts so much.
Wolfwood’s head jerks up at the sound of Vash’s voice, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“Hey there, Spikes,” Wolfwood says. “Nice of you to join me again.”
“We had to leave?” Vash says as he looks around, realizing now that they are no longer at the inn they had been staying at. His memory is a little bit fuzzy after waking up this morning, but it’s slowly starting to trickle back.
“We did,” Wolfwood confirms. “Had hoped that I could get somewhere pretty quick, but no dice, the heat still got to ya.”
“That’s alright.” Vash hums, pushing himself to sit up on shaking arms. He shuffles himself backwards, using his legs, until he’s leaning back against the cool rock of the cave.
“No, it’s really not. Those good for nothing fucks decided that we’d overstayed our welcome. Said it was too dangerous for us to stay any longer.” Wolfwood explains, standing up and starting to pace. He needs to move, needs to point this energy somewhere else. “Even though you probably saved their shitty little town by helping their shitty little plant.”
“They’re just scared.” Vash says, like it’s obvious, like it changes anything about what happened this morning. “It’s not their fault.”
“They should show you a hell of a lot more gratitude, instead of kicking you out on your ass while you’re like this.” Wolfwood yells out, gesturing at Vash, grinding his heel into the ground. “You don’t turn someone out into the desert when they can’t even stand.”
“Nick.”
“It’s bull shit and you know it.” Wolfwood digs in his jacket, pulling out and lighting up a cigarette, smoking it down to the filter as he paces. “If I ever make it back out there, I'll show them a thing or two.”
“Hey, at least they didn’t decide they wanted to cash in on the bounty?” Vash offers with a cautious little laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.
“I’d like to see them try it.” Wolfwood mutters, pulling out a second cigarette.
“You didn’t hurt anyone when we left, did you?”
“No. Wanted to though.” Wolfwood says, the cigarette hanging from his lips, still unlit.
“Nick, come over here.” Vash says, patting the ground next to him. “Please stop pacing.”
The way Vash looks at him, glistening eyes and down turned lips, he can’t say no. So he drops to sit next to him on the ground.
“There, isn’t this better?” Vash asks, quick to hug Wolfwood’s arm, interlacing their fingers together and resting his head on Wolfwood’s shoulder.
“Yeah.” Wolfwood reluctantly agrees, rubbing Vash’s hand with his thumb. ”I guess.”
“Besides, I am starting to feel better.”
Wolfwood sighs heavily, some of the residual anger bleeding out of him with Vash’s touch. He reaches a hand up, pushing Vash’s hair out of the way as he presses a palm to his forehead.
“You don’t feel as hot.”
“See? Don’t be so mad,” Vash says. “Besides, I know you were getting antsy being cooped up for so long.”
“The change of scenery is nice,” Wolfwood is loath to admit. It is nice to get out of the stuffy room, to feel the sun on his skin and the wind in his hair. “But I don’t like havin’ you out when you can’t protect yourself. I’ve got half a mind to go back there and give them a piece…”
“That won’t be necessary, this is just the life we live,” Vash says, squeezing Wolfwood’s arm. “Besides I’m fine now, I promise”
“I am sorry, by the way,” Vash says after a few minutes of silence, watching as Wolfwood roll’s his eyes. “I know, I know, you don’t wanna hear my apologies, but I never did get to explain what happened.”
“I just assumed you did your freaky plant thing.”
“I mean I did, but there was more to it this time, never had anything like it before.”
Wolfwood waits patiently when Vash pauses, seemingly trying to collect his thoughts.
“The plant, she wasn’t well when I got there,” Vash starts to explain, his eyes downcast. “I don’t think she would have made it until the engineers got back.”
“I was kinda worried that I wasn’t going to be able to do anything to help her either.” He continues, letting his head tip to rest on Wolfwood’s shoulder again. “As soon as I made the connection with her, she started to siphon off energy.”
Vash finally looks up at Wolfwood, with tears in his eyes.
“She was so scared, Nick, I couldn’t even tell what was wrong, it was all I could do to pull away.”
Wolfwood squeezes Vash’s hand.
“She just… took. She took a lot more than I would have otherwise been able to give. So, you know, I’m sorry, for all of this.”
“Sounds like it wasn’t actually your fault for once, Spikey.”
“No, but still…”
“Don’t say it.” Wolfwood stops him before he can utter the words again. “I’m just glad you’re awake now and starting to feel better, I was starting to get really worried, you’ve been mostly unconscious for almost five days now.”
Wolfwood huffs a breath, thankful that this hell is finally coming to an end. He presses his lips to Vash’s temple, before burying his face in Vash’s greasy, unwashed hair.
“Speaking of which,” Wolfwood mutters, the hint of a smirk on his lips as he obnoxiously sniffs Vash again. “You stink.”
“You don’t smell much better, priest.”
“Yeah well, I've been a little busy, on account of takin’ care of your ass all week.”
“That’s fair.” Vash smiles, hums, nuzzling in closer to Wolfwood. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Wolfwood doesn’t like to think about that either.
“So, while you were asleep I was thinking. I figure we spend most of the day resting here,” Wolfwood says, once they’ve been sitting for a while, just holding onto each other. “When the suns start to set we can get back on the road.” “At night?”
“Mhmm, if you’re feeling up to it, that is.” Wolfwood says, putting his arm around Vash’s shoulders and trailing his fingers up and down his arm. “I’m not gonna make you ride in the heat again. But I think if we drive all night we can get to the next town by sunrise.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“No more than during the day, if you think about it.”
“I guess you're right.” Vash huffs, stifling a yawn.“You know I’ll be ok in like another day or so. We could just camp out here until then.”
“We left in a hurry, remember, we don’t have the supplies to camp, besides, I think you’ll do better in a room with a real bed, for a few more days at least.” Wolfwood says, having already considered if they’d be able to do just that. “At the very least, we can get a shitty little motel and get you a shower.”
“That sounds so good right now.” Vash laughs, and it’s the best thing Wolfwood has heard all week.