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As with with everything in No Man’s Land the inn room is cramped and sweltering. Even with the slowly setting sun, the heat does little to abade. Not until the moons rise will it subside, and then the cold will come thundering in, causing whomever is left out in the desert to find a way to warm themselves in the caustic environment.
But not you. Not tonight.
Tonight you are safe in a little room on the edge of nowhere.
With Vash as a roommate.
Okay, maybe more than a roommate.
Whatever was going on between you two had lasted for several weeks at this point. There was a sort of—a sort of tension? Small touches of the shoulder. A gentleness to the eyes. A warmth to the cheeks that wasn’t caused by the sun.
It was so thick that the others had started to take notice over the past few days.
Roberto would roll his eyes whenever Vash said your name in that special way of his and Meryl tried to ignore in completely. She would stammer and turn her eyes away whenever the two of you got too close.
Wolfwood however ... Wolfwood was another matter.
He had been the one to set up the room accommodations. Everyone had gotten their own... Save for you and Vash.
The two of you were to share a single, tiny bed because of him.
When confronted, Wolfwood had simply hefted his gun higher on his back, cigarette coming dangerously close to falling from his lips as he smiled at you.
“What? You two are together, ain’t’chya?”
The silence that had fallen had been his answer.
“Well ... guess not.” And he had walked away as if he hadn’t blurted out what everyone had been thinking. Your face had been so warm that you thought it might explode—burst into flames even—but you had managed to scramble up the stairs with what was left of your dignity and stumble into the room.
And here you were. Deciding whether or not you should go out to the car and sleep in the back seat like you had been doing for the past several days.
No! You weren’t a child! You would face this like an adult!
You jump. There’s a knock at the door and Vash peeks his head in.
“Hey,” he says, though, with how well you know him, you can sense the tension in his voice, “Heard we were bunking together tonight!”
There’s a forced cheeriness to his voice and you find yourself swallowing at it.
So he’s just as nervous as you.
“Yeah!” Oh god, you sound just like him now, “I figured I could sleep on the floor and-”
“No way! I can sleep on the floor, it’s not a problem.” He waves his hand in front of his face, dropping his bag beside the door. Next, he takes off his red hoodie, hanging it on the little hook beside said door.
The bed itself was small, no way two people could lay on it super comfortably. But neither of you were going to give up easily.
“Here,” you say, “I’ll take a shower and then you can get set up on the bed and—”
“-No!”
“—Then it’ll be fair!”
Vash pouts visibly at you, but you’re already on your way through the door to the bathroom and closing it behind you before he can argue further.
Several minutes pass of you washing yourself, getting cleaned of all the sand and dirt that could pile onto you while on the desert. It takes ages of scrubbing but after a while you can see your natural skin color again and it satisfies you enough to get out of the tub.
Problem. Your stuff and Vash’s stuff were mixed together in his bag. The one by the door.
You could bang your head against a wall. You’d been so quick to get to the bathroom before Vash you hadn’t grabbed a different set of clothes.
Okay. Be an adult about this.
Wrapping the towel securely around yourself you peek your head out of the door.
“Hey Vash can—“
The words get stuck in your throat. Vash is half naked in the bedroom, his shirt gone. You can see where the metal of his arm meets the flesh of his body. There are scars littered across him. Some are so deep and vast they have to be covered with bit of metal. Some almost look like autopsy scars. Some are still raw bullet holes. Had he been taking damage this entire time?
Vash’s head snaps to you, eyes wide and glasses gone.
You both stare at each other for a long time. The silence echoing.
“Can you pass me some clothes?” You finally say, nodding towards the bag.
Vash doesn’t say a word, simply taking the one step towards the bag and digging out some clothes for you. One cannot afford pajamas in the desert, so it’s just another set of day clothes that are relatively clean. You’re grateful when cloth meets your hand and you dive back inside the bathroom, letting the door click shut.
Holy Shit.
You almost vocalize it but Vash could still very well be on the other side of the door.
You slide down until your butt meets the floor, your elbows resting on your knees.
There should be a myriad of thoughts going through your head. Most of them focused on how absolutely mortifying that situation had been for the both of you.
But instead all you can think of is if Vash has been hiding the bullets from you. Had he been hurt this whole time? Some of those wounds had looked fresh.
Your thoughts swirl for a few minutes more before you become conscious of the fact that you should be dressed and out by now. Vash probably thinks you’re hiding from him, that you’re disgusted by him. The thought makes you hop up from the floor and slap your clothes on so quickly you must look like a wreck as you fling open the bathroom door.
“DO YOU NEED A BATH?!”
You cringe. Vash stares at you, now dressed, from the floor. During your time in the bathroom he had made himself a little sleeping spot, several pillows and blankets piled beside the bed.
“Uh,” He scratches at the back of his neck, “Sure?”
Wait. No mention of what you had seen? Was he just going to—
“—Don’t just ignore it!” You squawk in the most undignified tone your voice had ever taken.
Vash chuckles, “Ignore what?” But you can see it in his eyes. There’s a deep sadness behind them that makes the blue just a tiny bit darker.
“...Vash...”
“I think it’s best we move on—”
“—How many?”
“What?”
“How many times have you been shot and not said anything? How many times did you sew yourself back together without anyone noticing?”
The small smile that is ever present on his lips, falls. “Please Vash, just tell me.”
“Too many to count.”
The words hit you like a bullet to the shoulder.
“Oh god—”
Vash holds up a hand, waving it slightly, “But it’s not like I died or anything, really it’s not a—”
“—It is too a big deal! Don’t say it isn’t!”
You should be worried that the others can hear you, your voice thundering through the walls like a clap of lightening, but you can’t, not in this moment. You can see, more than feel, the tears forming at the edge of your peripheral.
And then Vash is there too.
“Hey, c’mon, no need to be worried about a guy like me.”
You manage to speak passed the lump in you throat, “Don’t tell me what to do...” And there it is. You sound like a child stamping their foot instead of a worried friend—or whatever you two were.
Vash uses his thumb to press away the forming tears. “Lets get to bed.”
And that’s how you both find yourselves curled up on the floor together. Neither of you wishes to take the soft mattress from the other so it ends in a stalemate. There is not bumbling this time as you both lay down to sleep, not awkward pauses or stolen glances. The air is thick with something unsaid but neither of you is able to grasp it and bring it down to earth.
In the silence of the night, after your tears have dried but before the cloud of your argument has blown away, Vash turns to you in your sleep.
“I just didn’t want to worry you.”
He presses a piece of hair away from your face so he can see you better in the dim moonlight of the window.
But you would worry anyways, regardless of how much he hid from you.
Because that’s what love is.