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When the two of them finally made it to JuLai, determination and fear driving them both like a motor, it was difficult to keep themselves out of sight. Vash’s face was plastered on every building, and his Punisher stuck out like a sore thumb. Still, thanks to a poorly placed sneeze from Vash, they got caught by the JuLai police.
Every instinct tugged at Wolfwood to pull out his Punisher and gun them down. It wouldn’t be a significant loss. He would protect Vash, and even if Vash got upset, surely he would realize Wolfwood was doing this for his benefit.
But Vash’s whispered plea made him hesitate.
Don’t do it, Wolfwood.
Why now, of all times, did it have to matter?
Their guns were already drawn, and one particular soldier looked a little too trigger-happy for Wolfwood’s liking. He yelled at Vash with vengeance in his heart, and Wolfwood watched Vash’s expression change, and his hands fell to his sides as the soldier raised the scope to his eye.
He tried to yell at Vash, to warn him that the bullet was coming, but as the blood– Vash’s blood–splattered across his cheek, he realized Vash knew. He knew, and he let it hit him anyway.
Wolfwood’s eyes widened in fear, unable to see where the bullet had hit Vash. If there was blood, it could be fatal. He needed to make sure, he had to be sure, so he ran to Vash’s side and gently wrapped an arm around his back, trying not to think about the blood that was spilling from Vash.
Are you okay?
Vash’s slumped shoulders told Wolfwood everything it needed to. His hand gripped Vash tighter, and he pulled him closer to his side. Vash’s arms clutched his stomach, and the stain on his shirt slowly began to spread.
The soldiers were yelling amongst each other, but their voices faded away as Vash slipped out of Wolfwood’s grasp. He turned away from the soldiers and slowly walked away, wincing as he held a hand to his wound. Wolfwood called out to him, but he didn’t get an answer, so he followed close behind Vash to make sure he wasn’t about to do something that stupid again.
Wolfwood jogged up to Vash’s side, holding out his arm in a silent offering for support, but Vash didn’t take it. He was clearly determined to keep going all on his own.
Vash didn’t allow himself any reprieve until they found a water tunnel leading under the city, hanging lights illuminating them with dim red light barely piercing through the darkness. With an audible groan, Vash slumped to the ground, letting his head and back rest against the stone wall. As much as Wolfwood wanted to, he didn’t fall to his knees at Vash’s side. Instead, he adjusted his grip on the Punisher and looked down at Vash.
“Hanging around you is going to get me killed,” Wolfwood grumbled, crumpled cigarette barely hanging between his lips.
“Sorry,” was Vash’s meek reply.
Wolfwood pressed further. “You turn into a deer the moment you’re up against humans.”
“I’m sorry,” Vash said again. “But, thank you.”
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow, eyeing Vash curiously, but Vash wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he looked down at the water, mesmerized by how it flowed through the canal.
“Huh?”
“You didn’t kill them.”
Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “How could I? You took off without me.”
Vash’s laugh was pained, a harsh reminder of what got them in this predicament in the first place. He sighed, dropping the Punisher and leaning it against the wall. He scanned the cloth protecting the weapon, looking for the cleanest spot before slipping his hand into one of the bullet holes and pulling hard.
The sound of the fabric ripping was enough to get Vash’s attention, and Wolfwood could feel his gaze on him as he tore off a long strip of fabric. He grabbed his cigarette, tossed it on the ground, snuffing it out with his foot, and kneeled down next to Vash.
Wide blue eyes stared into his soul, the silent confusion making Wolfwood’s chest ache.
“Let’s get you patched up,” he murmured. “I won’t let you fart around until you pass out.”
“I can do it myself,” Vash said, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. “You don’t have to help.”
“Just shut up, would you?” Wolfwood grumbled. “Let someone else take care of you for once.”
Vash sighed, putting his hands under the hem of his shirt and pulling it off with a pained grunt. Wolfwood’s eyes widened when he saw what lay underneath.
Scattered across Vash’s pale skin like constellations were small pieces of metal, mapped out between marred flesh. Metal plates, held together by wires, attempted to cover some of the old, faded scars, but there was always some peeking out. The one resting over his chest, where his heart should be, hurt the most to look at, but he couldn’t look away.
While the front of Vash’s torso had its fair share of blemishes, the broad muscles of his back were even worse off. It seemed like every part of his skin was marked with something, evidence of every past scrape he just barely couldn’t escape in time. There was one massive scar on one of his shoulders that looked like his skin had been peeled back, burned, and reattached. Even more small plates and wires tried to keep the scars from falling apart.
Suddenly, Wolfwood’s mind was filled with images of humans scraping away at Vash until he had nothing left to give. It made Wolfwood sick to think that everything that had ever touched Vash had done nothing but hurt him. It wasn’t hard to imagine the things people would have done.
“Needle-noggin…those scars…”
“Oh, how embarrassing.” Vash brought a hand to the back of his head with a sheepish smile, trying to laugh away the pain Wolfwood knew was resting just below the surface.
Wolfwood moved to sit in front of Vash, cloth in hand, positioning himself between Vash’s legs.
“It’s fine,” he muttered. “Hold still. I’m going to pull it out.”
Wolfwood’s eyes drifted to Vash’s stomach, where the small hole still gushed with blood. It seemed to have subsided a bit now that Vash had finally stopped moving. Without thinking, he reached out to hold his hand on the side of Vash’s torso, pressing his hand into a place where Vash’s skin was still soft.
Vash flinched under the touch, likely on instinct, but he didn’t move to stop Wolfwood.
“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much,” Wolfwood whispered before sliding his hand to the front of Vash’s stomach and gently sliding his fingers into the wound.
It was strange to feel the inside of a bullet wound. Wolfwood never had to pull any out of himself; the drugs did it for him. But even more strange was how human Vash felt underneath his fingers. He was warm and bleeding red, just like everyone else.
“So, this is the price you pay for saving everyone,” Wolfwood hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers found the cold metal of the bullet. “I can’t understand why you want to help humans so much.”
Aside from a few pained grunts and whines that were barely above a whisper, Vash didn’t respond. He just sat still as Wolfwood gingerly pulled the bullet from his torso. When it was finally free, the two of them released a breath neither knew they were holding. Wolfwood looked down at the bullet pinched between his fingers, now covered in Vash’s blood, before he glanced up.
Vash’s eyebrows were pinched together, his eyes lidded and chest moving faster than normal. Somehow, his gaze was still soft, looking at Wolfwood with a sad smile.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Wolfwood didn’t acknowledge his thanks. He just turned over his shoulder and tossed the bullet into the canal, following it with his eyes as it floated away. He dipped his hand into the water, letting Vash’s blood fall off his hands as he rubbed his fingers together. Pulling it out before he got too cold, he shook some water off his hand and rubbed the rest off his pants. He turned back to Vash, beckoning him forward to move away from the wall.
“How do you even put up with ‘em?” Wolfwood asked, leaning forward. He held the cloth in one hand, moving it to the side of Vash before reaching around to grab it with his other hand. The proximity was suffocating, and Wolfwood could practically smell Vash’s sweat mixed with the sharp notes of metal. Vash’s skin was warm, and his breath was hot against Wolfwood’s neck. Trying not to linger too long, Wolfwood pulled the cloth to the front, wrapping it around Vash’s torso as many times as possible before tying it off at Vash’s back.
Before Wolfwood could pull away, Vash raised his gloved hand to Wolfwood’s face.
“My body moves before I can think. I can’t abandon anyone who’s in a tight spot.” Vash’s thumb ran over Wolfwood’s cheek, and the semi-dried blood that had once been there was wiped away. “That includes you.”
Wolfwood’s breath hitched. He knew those words carried weight. He knew that Vash had realized what Wolfwood was meant to do. He fully understood Wolfwood’s reasons for being there, and he let Wolfwood touch him anyway.
“So you figured me out,” he said with a chuckle, trying to dismiss the thoughts now clouding his mind. “Did you think sacrificing yourself would make everyone happy?”
“I don’t know,” Vash whispered honestly. The hand on Wolfwood’s cheek slid down to rest on the side of his neck. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, the thrum filling his ears and making it hard to hear what Vash said next. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you helped me just as much as I helped you.”
“I doubt it.” Wolfwood dared to lean forward, resting his hand on Vash’s leg. He felt the muscle twitch underneath him, so he loosened his grip, ghosting over the fabric. “For what it’s worth, I really did want to protect you.”
“I know.” Vash smiled. The gap between them was getting smaller and smaller with each passing moment. “It’s worth more than you know.”
Wolfwood’s hand slid up to rest on the side of Vash’s torso, and this time the hand on his neck slid to the top of his shoulder, gripping it just a little bit tighter. The feeling of Vash’s breath against his lips was making him dizzy with want. It wasn’t right to want this, to want something that would put his entire mission in jeopardy. He was going to leave Vash when they reached the tower's top. He had to. He didn’t have a choice.
But he did have a choice now.
“Can I kiss you?” Wolfwood asked, tilting his head as he pressed his forehead to Vash’s.
He heard the stutter in Vash’s breath as he nodded wordlessly, and Vash met Wolfwood in the middle as their lips collided.
Kissing Vash was like standing in the middle of a sandstorm. There was nothing past where you were, all your senses dulled but the pangs of fear surging through your body, ears filled with the sound of the wind whipping at your hair and pulling you closer and closer to the eye of the storm. The warm skin underneath Wolfwood’s hand was just as hot as the desert sand: soft from a distance and grittier as it passed through the gaps between fingers.
Vash pressed into Wolfwood more, their mouths opening to take in as much of each other as possible, like they would never get the chance again. They had to take this now, at the end of the line where there was nowhere left to go but up, no matter how greedy it made them or how much they felt like they didn’t deserve it.
Wolfwood responded earnestly, sliding his other hand up Vash’s leg and gripping his hips to keep them grounded. Vash pulled him closer, chests pressed together enough for Wolfwood to feel the metal plate on the opposite side of his heart. In that moment, Wolfwood wished he could feel Vash’s heartbeat against his skin. He wondered if it was beating as fast as his own.
He hoped it was.
When they pulled away from each other, gasping for air, Vash’s eyes were wide as he scanned Wolfwood’s features.
“We need to go,” Vash breathed. “Meryl and Roberto–”
“I know,” Wolfwood quickly pulled away, the loss of contact making his hands and lips feel cold.
Both of them had almost gotten carried away, but the reality of the situation came crashing down on them again. Vash still had people he wanted to protect. Wolfwood still had a job to do. The circumstances of their lives hadn’t changed, but somehow Wolfwood felt just a little bit lighter. His conscience still weighed heavy like the familiar weight on the Punisher at his back, but knowing Vash might love him too made it easier to carry.
He knew he would regret kissing Vash when the time finally came tonight for them to part ways, but he wouldn’t regret taking the chance anyway.
Wolfwood pushed himself up from his knees and held out his arms to Vash like he had just moments ago, but this time he gratefully accepted Wolfwood’s support. He hoisted Vash up to his feet, sliding his arm around Vash’s back and letting Vash use his weight to steady him.
“Let’s get going, needle-noggin,” Wolfwood said, his voice filled to the brim with emotion.
“Right," Vash nodded, slinging his arm over Wolfwood’s shoulders.
As they walked through the tunnels, creeping ever closer to the tower, Wolfwood counted the steps, hoping it would make the time pass slower so he could hold Vash in his arms for just a little bit longer, protecting him from the horrors of the world until he would have to give him up to the one person who wanted to hurt him most.
They had each other, for now, and that was all that mattered.