Chapter Text
Vash steps foot in another deserted-looking oasis of a town. With sand under his feet crunching and crackling adding to the dryness in his mouth. His head throbbed and pulsated like his heart. He's glad he's got sunglasses on to keep the sun out of his eyes. Otherwise, It would only add to the headache. He swallows but even his saliva stings going down his dry throat. Triggering another wave of coughs.
Even then he refuses to believe he's sick. All of his life he's never been infected with anything. He's been walking far enough through storms of sand to blame it on dehydration and sand in his lungs, but he's not exactly Human. He groans as he moves his heavy legs one after the other. All he wants to do is curl up into a ball. To just let himself collapse.
He shakes his head. No. He's finally lost Milli, Meryl, and Wolfwood. And he hasn't run into any of the gung-ho-guns after the last incident. After everything. At least, they're safe.
Safe as far away from him as possible.
He blinks, his eyelids growing heavier. He hears a thud, feeling the warmth of the sand pooling under his body. He forces his heavy eyes open. Damnit, he coughs curling a fistful of sand in his hands. His head lifts up, gazing at the town just a few feet away. C'mon, move damn body. Move!
He reaches out grabbing something besides another hand of sand. He peers up from a shoe greeted with the salty gaze of a man. He smiles sadistically, his crooked teeth shaping the sound of his name.
"Vash the Stampede. Looks like it pays to be nosey in this town after all. Who knows, who else could've stumbled on sixty billion double dollars, right for the taking."
Vash grimaced," I'm going to guess you're not here to lend me a hand."
" Quite the opposite," the man points his gun to Vash's temple." I'm here to put you down. Don't worry, I'll put the money to good use."
Vash clenched his jaw, his eyes twitching with fatigue before rolling to his side and dodging the oncoming bullet. He positioned himself kicking the man's legs out from under him. He knocks him face-first into the dirt. A few shots wastefully fired all the way down as he fell. The man's cocky smile is gone. Staring startled-eyed at him. Pathetic. Vash spins the man's gun in his other hand, earning a fearful shrink when it faces him.
" No, no, please don-"
" I'm not in the mood," Vash barely manages out through breaths." Are there more of you? Are there!"
The man shakes his head frantically, earning a sigh from Vash. " Good, I'm going to take this with me." He stands slowly pocketing the man's gun. With his back turned the man's fear's replaced by shame. He lets out a growl coming at him from behind with a pocket knife.
Vash turns back at the last second disarming him. The man lets out a scream of pain followed by the crack of a bone. The knife slipped to the ground.
" Shit." I used too much force." I'm sorry we'll get that arm looked at. Do you know where your town doc-"
" Stay the fuck away from me!"
The man slips from his grasp taking off into the town. Vash simply watches with a blank stare."Not much of a bounty hunter," he whispered to himself.
He makes it to town, without any more mishaps. Taking in the sound of people busy at work, and children running around and playing. Peace. He's missed this. With knives and the gung-ho-guns, he hasn't enjoyed much of this.
He stumbles Into a tavern gripping himself up with the wall. All eyes turn to stare back at him, he smiles shakily." Water, I'll take a glass of water please."
He takes a seat on the empty barstool, rubbing at his temple with the tips of his fingers. In a circular motion, the racket inside of the people's laughter and mummeries is getting to him. He grones, stopping when a glass of water is placed In Front of him. Without care, he grips and chugs the glass like liquid gold. Relishing in the way it seems to bring him life.
He tilts the glass forward to the man, he refills it without question.
" Funny you look new but I didn't hear any sand steamers pull up here."
Vash let out a pleased sigh placing his empty glass down." That's because I walked. Thank you for the water."
" Well it's not free– Walked?! The nearest town is a three-day trip away!"
Vash chuckled at the bartender's expression but it twisted into a gut-retching cough. Shaking his entire rib cage. He curled into himself covering his mouth as best as he could. By the time it ended, he was sucking in air from what felt like a straw.
" That cough doesn't sound good. You should get checked out, we have a doctor in this town. Is that why you came, did your town not have one?"
Vash waved his hand," no, I'm fine. It's probably just the sand getting to me. "
Before the bartender could respond another man waved him over. Vash was thankful until the man prompted another question.
" He kind of looks like you, doesn't he? Vash the stampede." the bartender pointed to the wall at the faded wanted poster.
Vash gulped," hah, a little bit. His jaw isn't as defined as mine. Take a closer look. It's a terrible design. You could take that man's face and put him in any red coat and you'd have a Vash the Stampede." He stops hearing the click of a gun from behind. He doesn't have to turn to know there's more than one planted on him.
Well, shit.
Wolfwood sits outside of a restaurant facing the same tavern a few feet away. He saw Needle Noggin go in so he grabbed himself a quick meal. Flirting with the waitress for a bit and it was going well. Until the ground shook from the vibration of what must've been a machine gun erupting from the same tavern. The waitress screams, joining the others in evacuation.
Wolfwood's brow twitched in annoyance.
Eventually spiky flew out through those small tavern doors face planting in the dirt. Followed by men with guns. Wolfwood sat and watched but something felt off. He counted at least five guys on him, these weren't gung-ho-gun advanced hunters. These were typically half-ass bounty hunters.
The kind that would shoot the wrong guy if he wore the same clothes as the wanted poster. Why was he having such a hard time?
Damn Needle Noggin and his flamboyant coat. No wonder he's drawn so much attention to himself. He's not even smart enough to wear a disguise. He grumbles to himself but it's not his place to interfere. Maybe they'll do him a favor and kill the buffon for him. It’ll Make his job a hell of a lot easier.
The men noticed the strange state of weakness. Beginning to taunt and pick at the supposed Vash the stampede. The same who brought an entire city to waste laying on the ground as if dead. Being kicked around by these low lives. He could hear the pounding of their shoes against his ribcage.
The moment when they kicked hard enough left him gasping and panting for air. He still couldn't seem to catch his breath even when they stopped. In the middle of his thoughts, Vash's gaze met him. His eyes locked on him with a strange stare. Not expecting a rescue but not expecting to see him either. It had Wolfwood feel a certain way.
Wolfwood curses under his breath hoping over the wooden railing leading up to the restaurant. " Hey! That's enough, I think you got 'em."
" And who the hell are you," a man turns to him. Letting Vash catch his breath for a second.
" Can’t you tell by just looking at me? I'm just your friendly neighborhood priest. Now, what do you say we be charitable and let this man go?" Wolfwood said, trying to light his cigarette.
The men all look at each other before breaking out in laughter. He knows what they're thinking, one scrawny man against these five. Especially a man of God. Not a chance in hell. He lets them have that false sense of confidence a moment longer.
" Well split the bounty? Make a charitable donation. Huh, will give you the scrap amount left after we get drunk off our asses and hit a few places?" The main man starts but Wolfwood can sense another one of his men easing himself behind him. His pistol pointing at his skull." I'm feeling a bit generous today."
"Lucky me," Wolfwood smiled earning a sour look from Vash. He dodges the man's bullet. It tears its way through the other man's chest ripping through the flesh and bone. He kneels over putting pressure on the chest wound.
Wolfwood disarmed the man behind him, twisting his arm. He tosses him at the remaining three who pointed their gun's at him. They gathered themselves fast but not fast enough. Wolfwood shot through the man's hand with his finger on the trigger. Crushed through the bone of the hand. As he realigned to shoot to kill, he falters. A sudden shift in his leg from the ground drew his eyes down.
" No, killing," Vash barely managed to squeeze out. That's what he was going to do. Hearing it again changed his mind because it pissed him off.
"Here I thought you were dead. Give it a damn rest would ya?"
"Wolfwood!"
The man draws his gun and Wolfwood fires. Again, and again. The bodies hit the floor. He can feel Vash squeeze his foot's ankle with anger. His expression pressed into a deep scowl.
He squats down at his level but before he knew it. Vash had regained enough strength to punch the sunglasses off his face. Throwing them to the side. He could hear Vash's breaths quiver his voice wet with emotion. Tears are forming at the corners of the damn idiot's eyes. It makes him sick.
" Dammit, Wolfwood! What the hell's the matter with you."
Wolfwood slams Vash's head back down into the dirt, rubbing it against the ground."For once in your damn life, could you get over your self-righteous bullshit! Would you rather have let them have their fun with you than kill you? Is that what you wanted?"
" I would've handled it."
Wolfwood cackled," Yeah because you had it all under control. What's wrong with you anyway?"
Vash breaks free from his grasp and sits cross-legged on the ground. Still gasping for breaths with his head tilted down. Something about them sounds off, almost like a broken raspy whistle. Wolfwood tries to peer down trying to reach his downward gaze.
Those guys did a fair number on him. He could only imagine the bruises forming underneath that red coat. Maybe he’s got a collapsed lung? No, he shook his head. If that were the cause he’d be acting more like a fish out of water. He's cutting it close through with the way he looks. Maybe there are just a few broken ribs nothing he can’t shake off.
" Hey, are you going to sit there all day?"
" I will if I want. It's not like we're going in the same direction."
" What makes you think I'm leaving after that shit show? Hey, where's the big girl and the short one? Aren't they supposed to be watching you?"
" I lost them like I thought I lost you. What is it with you anyway? Are you following me?" Vash swallows his voice, sounding rough.
" That's my line. You catch a cold or something?"
Wolfwood grabs his shades, pocketing them. He stands, extending a hand out to Vash. He takes it and Wolfwood yanks him up. Vash stands on his two shaky feet for a second before being pulled by gravity toward him. He leaned on him fighting between catching his breath and pulling himself off. Wolfwood holds his weight up.
" They got you good, you let yourself waste away, or are you getting sloppy?"
Vash laugh's weakly," a little bit of both…" A bundle of coughs escapes with the words leaving him gasping for air. That doesn't sound good. Vash manages to finally pull himself off, steadying himself with Wolfwood's shoulder.
" It's alright you can lean on me."
"No, It's fine."
Vash let go standing unsteadily on his two feet but he gains enough distance between them. Wolfwood forces himself to keep that distance. If he wants to fall flat on his face and chip tooth let him. Little by little throughout the walk, he inched closer to him. Trying to get a better look at his expression from underneath those deep yellow shades.
This definitely wasn't the usual Vash he was used to. This one was much more serious. Before he knew it the multitude of the walk was filled with thoughts of worry. Spiky usually threw comments or small fights at him. Now there was none of that, just silence.
“Could you not stand so close?”
Wolfwood's jaw twitched in anger,” You piss me off, you know that?!” He continued to grumble under his breath slipping back he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Inhaling he found a bit of relief from Needle Noggin's attitude from his thoughts, from everything. Like everything else good in his life, it was a temporary sensation but it was enough.
“Where are you heading? Why is it so damn important you do all this shit alone?!" He says with a cigarette hanging by the tip of his mouth just dying to fall to the ground.
“It just is!”
” I’ll tell you what if you just put a bullet in any bastard that deserved it from the beginning you wouldn't be in this mess.”
“Wolfwood, how is it that you always seem to be close by? No matter where I go you seem to be in the next town. Come to think of it you never told me why you knew about the Gung-Ho-Guns or Knives.”
Wolfwood bite's down on his cigarette making it lose its shape. Vash trudged back to him getting in his face. His face goes through different emotions in the duration of a second. One of those expressions is the most hurt he’s seen in his eyes. It made him reel back, but with it, there was a sense of relief.
This could be it.
He could tell him everything! Stop playing these damn games and show him what he is. Hey, your brother knives sent me on a mission to babysit or kill your ass. He can't tell sometimes he gets mixed signals from the guy. His jaw only tightened more. Even with his confession on the tip of his tongue, he couldn't.
A wave of coughs broke through the tense air, breaking into an all-out coughing fit. Vash hunches over where he stands gripping at his chest. His lungs trying to take in as much air as he could through the fit. His whole ribcage quaked with each monstrous cough. Vash tried to take some breaths. Wolfwood curses helping him to the ground where he can wait for it to die down.
"Hey, easy there, easy," he rubs at his back trying to let the coughing fit run its course but it doesn't seem to. Wolfwood finally realizes it's the cigarette he's smoking. With a panic, he tosses the used cigarette aside. Waving the scent away as best as he could.
Finally, Vash's coughing fit stops and he's breathing but it looks like he's still struggling.
"Shit, Spiky I'm sorry. You're breathing doesn't sound good, we should get that looked at. Can you stand?”
" I'm fine. You shouldn't be near me, it's dangerous.”
" Yeah, I didn't want to catch whatever you've got. Looks deadly. So you owe me big time for carrying your sorry ass to a doctor."
" I don't have money for a doctor."
" Don't worry about it."
" No, Wolfwood you don't understand this–"
"This isn't up for discussion, those two would get on my ass about letting you go in that condition."
"Wolfwood!"
Vash pushed him off. Wolfwood was a bit shocked by this Vash is usually even on his worse days his usual stupid smiling self." I said I'm not going…"
He's breathing hard. His lungs sounded pretty clogged up.
" You keep sticking with me like this I can’t guarantee your safety. I can’t always keep you safe?”
“What nonsense are you spouting now? Is it because of what I did back there? Are you still pissed off I saved your sorry ass?”
Wolfwood knows exactly why, knives had already sent out plenty of people after him. In this condition, he's not letting him deal with them alone.
Wolfwood takes advantage of Vash's weak situation and takes his luggage from him easing the weight off his shoulders. " I'm not leaving you alone on a suicide mission, I'm going to check you into a room or we head to the nearest hospital and have someone look at you. Which is it?" His voice is stern leaving no room for disagreement. Vash is sweating and taking in shallow breaths. His head falls in reluctance as he walks ahead of him.
" I meant it when I said I had no money."
" This isn't a charity, once you're up to it you're paying me back, Needle Noggin," Wolfwood says in annoyance masking his concern.
" Some priest you are. I thought you live for charitable acts." Vash jokes and smiles. But his smile looks empty.
Wolfwood itched handing the little money he had at the front desk for a room. Damn Needle Noggin better be grateful he gives a shit about him. He sighs, in his other hand is a recently purchased cough medicine. That was his cigarette money. Then again it's not like he can smoke around Vash in his current condition.
He makes his way up the stairs to there's room. Opening the door to see Vash still in his tick-red trenchcoat. How the hell he doesn't overheat in that thing is a miracle in itself. He even still had heavy work shoes. Sheesh, doesn't he know how to relax?
" Jeez, take off that damn coat and get into bed already. You look miserable, don't you have any regular clothes?"
" I'd ask you the same thing with that priest outfit you wear, then again I'm sure the one you're weaning isn't for standard practice…"
" You should show a little consideration to the friend who’s paying for you’re room and medicine," he says with forced kindness.
Wolfwood digs into Vashes luggage he's been caring around. He finally finds a fresh more comfortable change of clothes. A white shirt with green long sleeves and some PJ-like pants the same color as the sleeves.
" I didn't ask for your help."
Wolfwood threw the clothes at him earning an annoyed choked sound from him.
" Shut up and put those on. I get it your sick but you don't have to be such a pain about it."
Vash gets up and slams the bathroom door behind him.
Wolfwood sighs. When did he start taking this job too lightly? Behind that door lies a man capable of annihilating the entire human race. Destroying entire cities and making crater size holes in the moon. How he goes from babysitting at an orphanage to babysitting him of all people. All that training for this? Vash’s coughing from behind the door shifted his thoughts The final moments of the fit ended with a breathless gasp.
He shoves those thoughts away, opting to measure a dose of the cough medicine. The sooner he gets over this illness the better it’ll be for both of them.
The door opens and Vash steps out in casual wear, his hair down. He almost looks like a different person. It all feels unnatural seeing him in anything but his usual red coat. Vash's eyes land on him with a blank look.
Wolfwood smiles despite himself, "Well, damn look at that, taking off that damn coat won't kill you. " He hands him the measured portion, getting a confused look from him.
" What's?"
" It's medicine, it'll help."
Vash gives him a look but he takes a small swig, his facts twisting in disgust.
" Come on, quit being such a damn baby about it. You get shot at and don't complain, why now?" Vash sucks in a breath swallowing the rest.
Wolfwood's gaze softens. Vash isn't fighting him anymore, he's sitting there staring at his feet. Maybe he's too exhausted to argue. This doesn't seem like a regular cold. He begins to fear the worse with the way his breathing sounds. He's nursed enough kids at the orphanage to know. Maybe this isn't just a case of fractured or a few broken ribs?
Wolfwood brushes a hand under Vash's now mop of hair. He's burning up as expected. Up close he can hear there's a wheeze to his breathing. He doesn't like it. Vash blinks, leaning into his cool touch.
"Wolfwood?" He weakly crocks turning to him. He removes his hand. This isn't good it's pretty high, despite what Vash says he needs a doctor but he'll humor him for now. He'll do what he can.
"Hey spikey, You got roughed up pretty good. How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere?"
Vash thinks for a moment," Chest hurts. Hurt's to breathe."
" I wanna feel your ribs. Make sure nothing's broken."
There's sure to be bruising so he looks out for that. He feels around Vash's ribcage earning a small sound of disapproval. He keeps feeling around applying pressure. He stops when he gets a small whine of pain from him. The area around it is tender and swollen.
A fractured rib. Something else catches his attention poking him from underneath. What the hell?
He goes to lift his shirt but Vash grabs his hand." That's an old injury, you don't need to worry about it. I have a few metal pins holding me together."
Wolfwood stops after that. He puts Vash to bed. It doesn't take long before he's out like a light. The cough medicine must've done the trick. He lay there without another cough racking his body, falling asleep fast. His breaths fell into an even pattern with small hitches in it.
That damn wheezing.
He watched him for a while until the craving for another cigarette hit him. He only managed to fight it for a bit before giving in. He heads outside, lighting a fresh one, and enjoying the warmth that engulfed his lungs. Felt the worry seep through his bones and Into the cloud of smoke floating into the sky.
He never liked the scent of cigarettes. But with the shit show of life, he's been living. He deserves something to ease the pain. Especially being stuck with this dam idiot. His gaze moves to the closed window of their hotel room. Vash isn't getting up anytime soon.
He heads to a nearby store grabbing a can of soup and a pack of cigarettes. Before he reaches the register he checks the money he has left. He only has enough for one can of chicken soup or another packet of cigarettes. The cigarette helped kill his appetite but even then. He does still have five left. He can live off his meal earlier and enjoy another smoke still.
An angry grumble escapes his lips walking back to the motel with a single bagged can of soup and a hole in his stomach. The sun's setting He's being too damn nice. He owes him, damn needle noggin owes him for this.
He's going to have to find work at this rate. He could do a few odd jobs around the area. There's always a need for more working hands. He passed a construction site on the way to the store. Maybe he could charge for confessions. No one ever really bought into the small portable confession though.
He makes it back half-expecting the bed to be empty and Vash runs off as his usual self would. Instead, he laid exactly as he left him. He doesn't seem to be in any better shape, maybe even worse than when he left.
He prepared a bowl of soup for him, waking him up to eat it. Taking a couple of tries to pull him out of sleep's clutches. It was also time to take more medicine.
"Did you leave? I didn't notice," he sleepy mutter's as he sits up.
" Got you some chicken soup." Vash started down at the bowl. His head lifts up to face him.
" What about you? Aren't you hungry?"
" I ate earlier, remember? Eat up and worry about yourself." Wolfwood lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling wondering how he got here.
What the hell's wrong with me… he doesn't get deep in his thoughts as he hears a small broken noise. He turns his head to see the same idiot choking back tears. They're streaming down his face despite how hard he tries to stop them. Wolfwood jumps up in bed, his eyes widened.
" Hey! hey! Stop that, stop crying. What are you going on about now?"
Vash sniffs trying to get the words out," I'm I-Im not crying."
" Yeah, you kind of are!"
"Vash wipes away his tears but they keep coming," you have to leave. Go, if you stay you'll end up catching it."
" How about thanks instead of the meal, the medicine, the motel! There you go trying to get rid of me. Is this about that damn mission of yours?"
" You know about knives. That means you know about the assassins he sent after me. You know the destruction these people caused hunting me down. I've put so many innocent people in danger. Gotten so many killed because they happened to be in the same proximity as me. I don't know when the next one will find me, but you can't be around when they do."
Wolfwood got off his bed walking across to Vash's side. He gets to his eye level flicking his head. Snapping him out of his emotional state for a second.
Emotional outbursts are common with sickness. This wasn't the first time he's seen Vash cry either, but for some reason, it rubbed off him the wrong way. He's crying because this time he's worried someone would actually kill him this time.
" You don't think I can handle myself now, is that it? I've been around you long enough to know trouble follows you wherever you go, I practically expect it from you. I can handle the damn assassin, I can handle the bounty hunters, I can handle them all. So quit crying and eat your damn soup already! You're such a damn baby I swear. It's also time to take more medicine."