Chapter Text
On the vast expanse of sand and rock that makes up the desolate planet of Gunsmoke, everything was barely normal. The fauna was made up of gigantic sandworms and a hivemind of insects, the planet hardly counted as hospitable. Despite these conditions that are not conducive to life, Vash finds himself waking up in a dusty hotel bed to the faint snores of his companions through the thin walls.
After a long and tense day of travel through the unforgiving desert, Vash felt as if the sleep he had gotten was not sufficient enough. The group had saved enough money to afford a decent hotel room for each of them with a full bed, giving everyone space to sprawl out and relax in a rare moment of privacy.
With a heavy sigh, Vash sits up in bed, taking a second to reattach his prosthetic arm. He stands up and stretches with a yawn, pausing for a second to dust some sand out of the joints in the bottle-green metal of his prosthetic legs.
Tugging on his jacket and boots, Vash’s attention is drawn when a knock on his door and a grumble from the other side lets him know that the group is ready to go. Vash gives a sound of acknowledgement as a reply, grabbing his bag and handgun and exiting the room.
When Vash reaches the bottom of the rickety stairs, Wolfwood, Milly, and Meryl are already waiting for him in the lobby, Meryl still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Finally awake, needles?” Wolfwood snips, nursing a crumpled cigarette between his teeth.
Vash cuts him a look from the corner of his eyes and slightly shakes his head, exasperated. Milly and Meryl stare at the two men and glance at each other, Meryl giving a small shrug before turning out the door and heading to the van, the rest of the crew following. Vash pauses outside of the van to throw his pack onto the roof, drawing the cargo straps over the softer goods and backing away from the van to examine his work. Nodding, he starts back to the car door. Snubbing out his cigarette, the undertaker follows Vash.
Vash and Wolfwood make it no more than ten steps towards the van before a gunshot rings through the air, the bullet ricocheting off a rock mere inches away from the plant’s ankle. Yelping, he jumps away from the rock and turns his attention to the direction the bullet came from, identifying multiple figures standing on the roof of a nearby building, each of them aiming a gun pointed at the group. As soon as Vash figures that they’re likely bounty hunters, a hail of bullets starts raining down on them.
Vash quickly ducks behind the van and peeks through the rear window, the reporter girls thankfully already in the van and ducking for cover. Through the roar of gunfire, Vash can distantly hear Wolfwood curse before he feels a thud against the car and sees a tanned hand grabbing his wrist, following as Wolfwood tugs him into the car. The tires squeal on the rocky road of the town as Meryl floors the gas, speeding away from the bounty hunters and the town. Thankfully, this run-in ended quicker than most.
“Is anybody hurt?” Vash asks, glancing at each of his companions in turn.
Milly and Meryl decline, while Wolfwood gives no other answer than an annoyed grunt. Meryl’s eyes flash up to the rear-view mirror to glance over Vash, knowing he tends to hide injuries and focus on everyone else, giving a small nod as she deems him alright. The reporter then shifts her gaze and gasps as she observes the undertaker, who is clearly failing in an attempt to pull a dart out of his forearm before they notice. He gives a yank, the dart coming loose relatively easily. Wolfwood ignores his companion’s concerned exclamations as he examines the small wound.
“Wolfwood, why didn’t you tell us you were hit?” Meryl exclaims, trying her best to balance looking back at Wolfwood and keeping the wheel steady at the same time. Milly turns as well, frowning at Wolfwood.
“You have to tell us when you get hurt, Mr. Wolfwood!”
Wolfwood sighs. “It’s not bad, didn’t think it was worth mentionin’.”
Vash frowns. “Wolfwood, if you're hurt, even if it's a scrape, we are still going to worry.”
“Yeah, yeah, needles. Whatever ya say.”
Vash sighs with a hint of fondness, grabbing a small bandage from their aid kit and taking Wolfwood’s arm into his grasp gingerly. The plant carefully cleans and bandages the small wound, which is already starting to stop bleeding.
Wolfwood stares at Vash, dumbfounded as he inspects the bandaging and picks up the dart, which the priest had unceremoniously tossed onto the middle seat between them. The seconds pass uneasily as Vash inspects the dart.
The tension is broken with a defeated sigh from Vash, who flatly announces, “I have no idea what was in this.”
“Well, let’s get to the next town as soon as possible before whatever it is takes effect,” Meryl remarks, keeping an even tone, doing her best to hide her worry. Nobody has the heart to mention the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead and the tension in her jaw.
The attention shifts away from Wolfwood over the journey, Meryl becoming engrossed in driving and Milly happily rambling with Vash about anything that comes to mind. The blonde is gleefully entertaining her in conversation, occasionally giving a concerned glance over at Wolfwood, who is dozing off against the window of the van.
By the time any of the group can spot the next town on the horizon, the suns are setting, and conversation has long since petered out. Wolfwood can hear the sound of Vash’s and Milly’s soft snores, Meryl’s occasional yawn, and the rushing of air from the air vents. Despite all of these sounds being relatively quiet, Wolfwood feels as if the noise is stabbing. He feels more cognizant of the quieter sounds than normal, and his head is starting to spin. He lets his head fall back against the headrest, beginning to doze.
–
When Vash gently shakes Wolfwood back to awareness, the undertaker’s head feels worse. The lights of the city they are parked in feel blinding and the noise of the city is grating to his ears. Grumbling, he opens the door and climbs out of the van, observing the new surroundings as he grabs a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lights it.
The moons are high in the sky and give slight luminosity to the planet humanity finds itself on, the stars shining bright in the vast expanse of space. Almost out of earshot, Wolfwood can make out chatter and music from a bar, the metal wreckage composing the buildings creaking gently in the wind. The suspension of the van gives a warning whine as Vash grabs belongings off the roof of the vehicle, handing the items to their respective owners.
Wolfwood’s head pounds with all of the information coming in, the relief of the smoke he is inhaling helping to reduce his nervousness and his overwhelmed senses. The experiments already left him with heightened senses, but this is a new level of input. Wolfwood wonders if it has anything to do with the dart he got stuck with just hours earlier.
He is knocked out of his train of thought when he hears two heavy thuds next to him, looking towards the sound. He scoffs and lifts Punisher after seeing Vash has tossed it in the sand next to him and jumped down himself, the plant giving him his signature fake goofy grin and a thumbs up to match. Wolfwood rolls his eyes, the undertaker turning absentmindedly following the group into the hotel.
His cigarette provided temporary relief from the flooding of his senses, but by the time he makes it through the doorway, he feels his head becoming cloudy. It’s hard to hear anything through the fog, and Wolfwood can't focus on what the hotel clerk is saying. Distantly, he hears the jingle of keys, following Vash when he sees the clerk only give two sets out to them. He has stayed at enough hotels with this group to understand that he is rooming with Vash tonight. He hopes Vash doesn't notice.
Diligently as ever, Wolfwood follows Vash. The bright luminescence of the artificial light in the hotel feels oversaturated, and he can’t focus long enough to form a coherent thought. He gives a small sigh of relief as Vash opens the door to their room. The darkness of the unlit room relieves his overwhelmed senses immediately. The undertaker sets down his cross and leans it against the wall, tossing off his jacket and throwing it in the corner of the room.
It is right at that moment that Wolfwood notices there is only one bed.
Which, normally, isn’t a problem. He and Vash have confessed to each other, the bed is a queen size, which leaves plenty of room, but he feels an unusual stab of anxiety anyways. He and Vash have been open with each other, and he doesn’t feel that he has to hide much anymore, but he’s never felt quite as ill as this before. One of the perks of being superhuman, he thinks to himself bitterly.
“Hey, Nick, you go ahead and shower first, okay?” Vash asks, turning to face Wolfwood from where the plant is detaching the bottle-green plates that cover his left shoulder. Wolfwood winces a bit at Vash’s voice ringing out throughout the room.
“Yeah, whatever ya say needles.” Wolfwood says in acknowledgement, grabbing his half of a silly matching set of donut-themed sleep clothes Vash made him buy and ducking into the bathroom quickly.
The undertaker makes short work of his time in the shower, the noise of the water splashing on the tile floor and the steam in the air making his cloudy head feel worse. Turning the water off, Wolfwood steps out of the shower. He dries off and faces the mirror, glancing at his reflection.
He sees a gaunt man with paler cheeks than normal, his stubble grown out more than he keeps it. He looks as close to passing out as he feels. He is obviously more affected by whatever was in the dart than he was expecting to be. He hears himself sigh as he tugs his sleep shirt and pants on, exiting the bathroom.
“All yours, angel.”
Vash starts in the bed as his cheeks turn red, giving a half-hearted glare to the man standing in the doorway. He sees the glare turn into a look of concern just as quickly, the blonde standing to face Wolfwood.
“You look sick, Nick.”
“...I don’t feel great.”
“Is it because of getting shot earlier?”
“Hm. Probably. Don’t worry yer pretty head over it, angel. I’ll feel better once I hit the hay.”
“Alright… Just… Please, let me know if you feel sick at all tonight, okay? I’m going to shower and then I’ll join you in bed. You don’t have to be sick alone, Nick.”
“Fine, fine, anything you want. Go shower, ya stink, blondie.”
Vash gives a fond, exasperated sigh and a small smile, passing by Wolfwood into the shower. Wolfwood watches him walk past, wondering how he ever could deserve such an angel.
Wolfwood flops on his usual side of the bed, sighing happily as he sinks into the mattress. The world quickly fades away as he drifts off to sleep, and he barely notices Vash’s weight sink into the mattress next to him, the warmth of the plant’s body pressing against him helping lull him to sleep.
–
It’s due to their proximity that Vash finds himself startling awake when he doesn’t feel Wolfwood’s body next to him. The darkness of the room tells Vash that not much time has passed since he drifted to sleep next to Wolfwood, and that realization leads to immediate confusion and concern.
Sitting up hurriedly, Vash’s eyes scan where the undertaker was, seeing nothing but an empty spot. After a second, he spots a small lump underneath the blankets, halfway down. Slowly, Vash lifts the cover, peering under it.
He is greeted to the sight of a small, mostly black cat, curled up tightly around the stump of his right leg. The cat is curled up like a crescent, and he can see a thin white stripe going up the bridge of the black button nose. With his acute sight, the plant can vaguely make out a jumble of little white paws, and what he thinks may be a white cross-shaped marking on its chest. Vash feels himself smile a bit before the concern takes back over.
“Where is Nick, and what is this cat doing in my bed?” Vash whispers to himself, his quiet voice cutting through the silence of the room.
The cat perks its head up when it hears Vash talk, the dark gray irises disappearing as the slitted pupils expand and adjust to the low light of the room. It has a distinct look of annoyance on its face, with pinned back ears reminiscent of a bird’s wings and angry eyes as the kitty gives a tetchy meow before its face shifts to one of confusion, the cat perking up quickly and looking around wide-eyed, startled.
Vash gives a small laugh at the confusion, reaching out to pet the cat. As his hand connects with the soft fur, he comes to the immediate, sudden understanding that this cat is Nick, and whatever chemical was in the dart earlier caused this. Vash’s eyes widen, panicked, and the cat’s- no, Wolfwood's eyes go impossibly wider as they both realize what is going on.