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The car was silent as they drove down the desert plane, the only noise was the rumbling of the engine and the sound of the tires against the sand. The choking atmosphere inside the vehicle was almost unbearably tense, Vash and Wolfwood radiating waves of animosity towards each other, but both either being stubborn enough or smart enough to keep it to themselves. Neither man said anything, each looking out their respective window, wounds on Vash's face and wounds on Wolfwood's conscience, something that Wolfwood was not familiar with and just made him more frustrated.
To be honest, Wolfwood hadn't wanted to kill the beast of a human that Vash called 'Rollo'. From the little Wolfwood could remember from Vash's and Rollo's conversation, Rollo held Vash responsible for not saving him from whatever terrible tests had happened to him as a child to lead to him becoming so mutated. What Wolfwood did know is that Rollo was a threat, already having injured Vash and himself badly, and that he had Vash trapped in his grasp, metal hand dangerously tight around his neck. Wolfwood prided himself on having a steady trigger finger and being level-headed, and yet when he saw Vash in trouble, he swallowed down a concoction that gave him a rush of energy and aimed at Rollo's head.
The silence after the shot still made Wolfwood shiver, the blast of his gun and the sound of Rollo's heavy body hitting the ground echoing around the empty desert. Wolfwood could never forget the anger and plain hatred in Vash's eyes as he came to terms with Rollo's death, hands on Wolfwood's collar and pulling him roughly. He had expected Vash's anger, but when faced with it, Wolfwood yelled back without thinking, watching the rage in Vash's eyes die to an empty sort of look. That was something Wolfwood never wanted to see again, Vash looking so lost and sad.
"Do we have a plan?" Roberto finally said, cutting through the silence. "Or are we just going to drive around till we run out of fuel?" Meryl hit his arm, and he gave her an indignant look.
"Just keep going straight," Vash said, his voice lacking any of his usual playfulness. "There's a town ahead that we can stay at. They owe me."
Roberto chuckled, though his voice lacked all humor. "Let's not get this town destroyed too."
"We'll just stay the night. It's close, just keep going straight."
Vash's tone made it clear that it was not up for discussion. Wolfwood looked back at the endless sea of sand and the twinkle of the stars in the inky night sky, his stomach churning. He closed his eyes, chewing on his cigarette and breathing in the nicotine that tickled the back of his throat. The stress had Wolfwood's stash of cigarettes dwindling down so that he was basically out. Hopefully, he could find some in whatever town Vash was leading them to.
Pale lights made Wolfwood open his eyes. He was greeted with the image of a small town made just of a handful of buildings made of metal and concrete, its lights standing out against the void of the night; A traveler's town. The car halted to a stop at the edge of the town, Wolfwood hopped out quickly, glad to be out of the small, cramped vehicle. Vash got out slower, almost lurching out of the car, his eyes cloudy. Without a word, Vash started walking towards the center of town, not looking back to see if the others were following. Wolfwood tugged his cross-gun down from the top of the car, exchanging worried looks with the others before following Vash at a distance, giving him his space.
"You should apologize, you know," Meryl whispered, nudging Wolfwood with her elbow.
"For what," Wolfwood scowled. Of course, he knew that he should apologize, but he wasn't going to give Meryl the satisfaction of knowing she was right. "That idiot was gonna get killed himself killed. I did him and Rollo a favor."
"But you know how Vash is about things like this."
"It's not my fault needle-noggin is all wishy-washy. I'm going to let that suicidal idiot get himself killed."
Meryl sighed, rubbing her temple. "You guys are impossible."
Wolfwood rolled his eyes, letting her walk past him. He threw his nearly spent cigarette on the floor, scuffing it with the toe of his dress shoe. He sulked in the back of the group, glaring at any of the townsfolk who glanced at them weirdly. The town was not much better off than Jeneora Rock, all buildings covered in a layer of tan sand. Vash led them through the town, stopping at the creaky saloon doors of an old inn with a large sign reading 'The Stables'. The inside was equally as shabby, the wood floor dirty and speckled with water and beer stains. None of the tables and chairs matched, and a thin, rickety staircase stood in the corner that lead to the second floor. The bar went silent as they walked in, all eyes on them as Vash walked to the bar, whispering something to the barkeeper, who gave him a kind smile and a handful of keys.
"Here," Vash said, walking back to the group and giving each of them a rusty key with a number etched into the metal. "He said we can each get our own room. I'll be in room 6 if you need me.."
Without another word Vash turned his heel and headed up the stairs, his footsteps drowned out by the return of chatter throughout the bar. Roberto and Meryl gave Wolfwood a look, turning towards the bar to eat or get a drink or whatever. The message was clear though: Wolfwood was not invited. Shouldering his cross with a scowl, Wolfwood made his way up the stairs, his frustrations growing with each creak of the stairs under his feet. The second floor was slightly better taken care of than the first level, mostly clear of any dust or sand. There were only a handful of rooms, a metal number nailed to each wooden door. The stained red carpet under his feet muffled his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the end, stopping at room 6. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door, standing outside awkwardly as he waited for a response.
The door rasped as Vash opened it with a tired look on his face. He had shed his orangish-purple sunglasses, revealing dark circles under his blue eyes.
"Oh, it's you," Vash muttered, his voice colder than Wolfwood had ever heard it before. "What do you want?"
Wolfwood bit back a smart retort, storming into the room and leaning his cross against the faded wall. The room was bare, the only furniture a queen-sized bed, a wooden bedside table, and a door leading to a small bathroom. It seemed decently clean, save for a few strange stains on the walls. Wolfwood learned to not care about things like that.
"Is something going on?"
"Sit down," Wolfwood said, gesturing towards the bathroom. He didn't check to see if Vash was following him, but he could hear his footsteps behind him. Wolfwood checked the cabinet under the sink, pulling out a probably clean towel. With a small grunt behind him, Vash sat down on the closed seat of the toilet, looking at Wolfwood with a tired and irritated look on his face. Wolfwood just stared back at him blankly, squatting down in front of him to be face to face with Vash, careful dark eyes studying his injuries.
"Hey- What are you doing?" Vash said, moving his face away.
"Cleaning your wounds. Now stop being a baby and sit still."
Wolfwood grabbed Vash's chin with a little more force than was probably needed, tugging him back into place. He sat still as Wolfwood wiped at the gashes on his face with the towel, the gray-brown cloth turning a washed-out crimson. Vash had wounds all over his face and most likely on his torso, Vash having taken quite a number trying to subdue Rollo. Wolfwood worked in silence, cleaning all the mostly dried blood from Vash's face, being as gentle as he could around the bruises on his face. He checked his face, using his grip on Vash's chin to turn his head. None of the wounds seemed to be live threatening, all having stopped bleeding.
"Do you have a concussion?"
"No."
"What day is it?"
"Does it matter?"
"Just answer the damn question."
"It's Tuesday, isn't it?"
"... It's Friday."
Vash blinked dumbly. "Well, I've always had trouble with keeping track of what day it is," He said, sounding defensive. "I don't have a concussion."
"Where are we?"
"Some inn. How should I know?"
Wolfwood sighed, standing up and feeling the back of Vash's head carefully. The blond jerked away when his fingers grazed a large lump on the back of his head, hidden by his messy gold hair.
"Yeah, you have a concussion, but I don't think it's too bad," Wolfwood shot Vash a glare as he opened his mouth to argue. "Just take it easy, okay? If you go brain dead I'm not gonna carry you around. Now take your clothes off."
"Huh?"
"Do I need to spell everything out for you, needle-noggin?" Wolfwood said, giving him an annoyed look. "Take off your shit off so I can clean your injuries."
"That's really not necessary-"
"Just take it off or I'll do it for you."
"Fine, I can do it."
Vash didn't meet Wolfwood's eyes as he threw his red jacket to the side and pulled his tight black shirt off. Wolfwood's eyes widened as the canyon of scars on his pale skin became apparent. Wolfwood knew that Vash had sustained some pretty bad injuries from his past, his prosthetic arm made that clear enough, but Wolfwood had never seen so many scars on one person before and he had seen some hellish things in his life. Before Wolfwood could think of what he was doing, he reached out, his fingertips feathering over the mass of crisscrossed scars just above his hip. A wounded sound escaped Vash's lips, and he cowered away from his hand.
"Sorry," Wolfwood apologized quietly, snatching his hand away.
He wanted to ask what had happened, but everything about the situation was telling him to save it for later and just keep his mouth shut. Wolfwood kept his hands to himself as he checked Vash for wounds, the only semi-serious injury was a large gash on his hip where one of Rollo's bullets seemed to have grazed him. The skin around the injury was red and angry, Vash's flesh torn and snagged. It looked painful, but Vash didn't flinch as Wolfwood pulled out a small bottle full of the same clearish liquid he had drank earlier out of his jacket, pouring it on his wound. The bloodied laceration started to smoke, the skin turning from its irritated red to a color closer to Vash's skin tone.
"You should've said something if you were hurt, idiot," Wolfwood muttered, looking through the cabinet under the sink for something to wrap Vash's wound with. He pulled out a spare pillow case, tearing it with his teeth and wrapping the long straps of cloth around Vash's abdominal region.
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, it doesn't really look like it."
Vash didn't say anything, looking away from Wolfwood as he tied the makeshift bandage. He would have to find better supplies later or the wound would surely become infected, but for now, this would suffice. Wolfwood stood up, trying to meet Vash's eyes, but the blond refused to make eye contact, staring at the wall.
"I'm sorry, by the way," He muttered, feeling Vash turn to face him but he kept his gaze on the floor.
Vash didn't say anything, making Wolfwood start to worry. He turned to Vash, expecting the worst, but was instead greeted with a sappy smile and large, blue, twinkling eyes.
"What's with the stupid look on your face," Wolfwood said, face heating up.
"You apologized."
"I think your concussion is making you delusional," Wolfwood huffed, cuffing Vash's shoulder, which only made him smile wider. "Seriously, you're too easy to please, needle-noggin."
"It's just... Maybe you were right," Vash said, his face suddenly falling, the heartbroken look crawling back into his eyes. "I shouldn't have made a promise I couldn't keep. It was my fault-"
"Listen, it wasn't your fault," Wolfwood said, grabbing Vash's shoulder and making him meet his eyes. "I stand by my decision. I did what I thought was right, sparing him from his pain and saving you. But what happened before all that is not your fault. You made a promise, and whether you kept it or not, it was bound to happen. There is no point in beating yourself up about it."
Vash didn't look a hundred percent convinced, however, there was less sadness in his eyes. Wolfwood sighed, unsure of how to comfort Vash. He settled on patting the top of Vash's head, fingers threading through his blond mop of hair. Unsurprisingly, it was soft. What was surprising was Vash's face heating up, going red all the way to the tip of his ears.
"What're you acting all cute for," He asked, retracting his hand, and raising an eyebrow.
Vash didn't say anything, covering his face and turning around so Wolfwood could only see his pink ears poking out of his nest of hair. Instead of the usual awkward silence that the two men had found themselves in that night, the air tingled with unsaid words and tension. A sly smirk dawned on Wolfwood's face, turning Vash around. A strangled noise escaped his lips as Wolfwood made him move his hands away from his red face.
"Did I seriously make you that flustered," Wolfwood said, finally successful in moving Vash's hands away from his face and grinning down at his red face. "You look like a tomato, needle-noggin."
"Shut up."
"Just like a dog, getting all happy with just one pat."
Vash glared at him, though it was hard for Wolfwood to take him seriously when he was so red. He opened his mouth to jeer at him again, but his voice was muffled by Vash's mouth on his. Wolfwood's eyes widened, caught by surprise, but he quickly melted into the embrace. His hand snaked to the nape of Vash's neck, cradling it, and the other on the small of his back, keeping him close to him. Vash's body heat alone made Wolfwood's brain go fuzzy, feeling a sense of security that he had never felt before. Vash was surprisingly skilled, soft lips moving against Wolfwood's own chapped ones. His mouth tasted faintly of blond, and Wolfwood wondered if he tasted like cigarettes. He pulled away, struggling to breathe, and stumbled back. Vash seemed to be as lost for words as Wolfwood, his chest heaving and eyes wide as if he could not believe what just happened.
"Wolfwood I-"
"If you apologize right now I'll shoot you. Just... Fuck, just give me a second."
The familiar bright smile that Wolfwood had hated at first but now found so endearing grew on Vash's face, a small laugh escaping his mouth.
"What are you laughing at?" Wolfwood grunted, shooting Vash a glare.
"I knew you were soft deep down."
"You're a dumbass," Wolfwood said, grabbing Vash's arm and pulling him close again. "How about you stop running your mouth and kiss me again."