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It was not often that Nicholas D. Wolfwood had night terrors. He did everything in his power to block the shadows that threatened to haunt him. He has always been good at disguising his deepest emotions. Even more so after becoming one of The Eye of Michael's bloodhounds. Nonetheless, whenever those shadows did come to ravage his mind, they would strike with a vengeance.
And tonight was one of those nights.
He had woken up in a jolt, eyes wide open and chest heaving for the breaths he tried to tamper. He reminded himself to reign in his composure as he realized that he was not blinded by sterile white walls. Instead, the sight he caught was that of darkened and somewhat beaten walls made of metal. The cold, hard surface that had been under him was replaced by the warm cushions of the back seat he has become so familiar with.
He swallowed. His hands twitched as his instincts urged him to shake them loose from chafing steel. But when his muscles twitched he was reminded that his hands were not bound, instead, he had them crossed over his chest and cozily tucked under his upper arms.
Wolfwood took a discrete yet greedy breath. Then released it.
He looked at the driver, and passenger seats in front of him, where Meryl and Roberto slept in their respective spots. He was trying to not focus on the distinct scent of blood lingered in his nostrils. With the back of his hand he roughly rubbed his nose. Thereupon he took another breath and smelled the remnants of smoke and nicotine mitigated by the scent of Roberto’s booze and desert sand.
The thrumming of his heart finally eased.
He sighed.
He rubbed his face with a single hand to calm down his frazzled nerves. But his instincts were on the defensive and his muscles were too tense and itching for action.
I won’t be able to go back to sleep like this …
"Alright. So a midnight walk it is then." Wolfwood murmured to himself.
The next town was still ways away, so they had to stop at a small rest stop and charging station for the night. He reckoned that he might as well stretch his legs. While reaching for the door handle, he looked at Roberto and Meryl again.
Despite the effects of his night terrors having gone away, there was something that felt off about his surroundings. The air around him was lighter, but it was not in a good way. It was cold and empty. As if there was something that was missing …
The feeling was a bit strange to him, hence he frowned to himself in a questioning manner. He looked to his right and he immediately identified the reason for the feeling.
"Needle-noggin?" Wolfwood murmured as he looked at the empty spot on the bench. With a deeper frown he leaned to look out Vash's window. When he saw nothing he squinted his eyes and turned to look out his own window. And again, nothing. "Hm. I wonder where he went …"
Wolfwood spun the thought and scoffed softly.
Well, if he's not here, that means I won't have to hear his sniveling tonight. I can actually try to fucking sleep … if I even go to sleep again, that is.
Wolfwood frowned to himself and lowered his head. Barely after he had that thought, a small heavy feeling thrummed in his chest. His mind immediately told him that it was guilt, but he questioned it. He sighed and groaned before carefully opening the car door. After stepping out, he raised both of his arms above his head to stretch out. He also stretched his neck as he walked a few steps away from the car.
To his dismay, his mind was not letting him get away so easily. It conjured up all of the previous times where his slumber was interrupted by Vash’s restlessness. Many a time he has awoken to Vash mumbling, or sometimes even shouting in distress while still asleep. There were also the times where he found Vash curled up against the corner of his side of the back seat, sobbing as quietly as he could.
There was a little deep thrum in his chest again and his frown deepened. He has seen a similar scene before. And just like that time in the past, he found himself incapable of ignoring it.
“I’m gonna give that needle-noggin a piece of my mind ....” He got the urge to light a cigarette so he dug for the pack inside of the top pocket of his blazer. He took one out and put it in between his lips.
A sudden thought caused him to stop.
Maybe you should go check on blondie first … he gets very distraught when has bad dreams.
A few seconds of consideration passed. Wolfwood scoffed and grumbled to himself, “what am I thinking? He’s probably walking off whatever night terror he had this time. He couldn't have strayed far, he can handle himself.”
He dug for his lighter and flipped it in his hand in a flashy manner before lighting up the flame.
The little voice in his head interjected once more, reminding him of all the trouble Vash always got into, and how many times he has had to jump to Vash's defense. Hence his last statement was brought into question.
He let out a long sigh whilst scratching his chin. "Christ … well … I suppose he has survived for this long … though I am not sure how …"
And why am I getting so twitchy too?
Wolfwood knew the answer to that. Admitting said answer was something he was not sure how to approach, thus he tried his best not to think about. He could not. He should not.
It was simpler to think that the group’s liveliness was simply rubbing off on him, rather than to accept that for as much as they disagreed, and sometimes bickered, there was a certain air about Vash that was simply … pleasant. Warm. Inviting. Endearing, even.
Wolfwood shook his head. He had not realized that he had put out the lighter and was yet to burn the cigarette. He proceeded to try lighting it again. Only to get interrupted once more when he heard a faint sound that was similar to a groan.
His eyes widened briefly as he questioned if he heard right. With the raising of his eyebrow he looked to his side, where he thought the sound came from. Making good use of his enhanced senses he strained his ears to see if he could pick up the sound again. But everything was silent.
Wolfwood frowned with suspicion on his features. He blamed it on his lack of sleep and shrugged whilst he lit the lighter again. Then he heard a voice mumbling. It sounded from somewhere above his head and it drew his gaze in the direction of the car's roof. From over the railings installed on top, a hint of a familiar red jacket peeked. Wolfwood tilted his head as he raised an eyebrow and pulled his lips to the side. Just as he was questioning his eyesight he heard Vash's familiar voice mumbling again.
Well, I guess I won't have to look for him after all. What is he doing up there?
Wolfwood sighed and ruffled the back of his head. He put the cigarette back into his pocket for later, and proceeded to climb to the car's roof. He didn't bother to be subtle about his approach, and he was already preparing a snarky remark before he even finished the climb.
"Hey needle-noggin, you talk to yourself no---" Wolfwood's words came to an abrupt end as he realized that Vash was fast asleep. However, 'peaceful' was not a word Wolfwood would use to describe the look that was on Vash's face.
The same thrumming from before rattled Wolfwood's chest. Vash’s head was thrashing from one side to the other as his expression contorted in what looked like pain, augmented by small sounds of desperation. There was a large blanket bunched up over the lower half of Vash’s legs, and his red jacket was sliding off one of hi shoulders. Wolfwood frowned and had half a mind to leave him be. Vash always seemed to come around on his own. Wolfwood was never sure how he could help him anyway, all he could ever do was check in on Vash and just be there in quiet company ...
A sharp whimper from Vash made him hesitate.
Wolfwood looked at him for a few seconds before he breathed out sharply through his nose. He didn’t think he could offer much help, yet he finished climbing over the railings on the car roof and approached Vash. He was even more taken aback when he saw that Vash’s face was flushed, visible under the intense moonlight. And it was under that exposure that Wolfwood noted the gleaming trail going down Vash's cheeks.
The sight caught Wolfwood so unexpectedly he was at a loss.
"'m … so…y." Vash mumbled in his tormented sleep, which brought some semblance of focus to Wolfwood's mind.
“Hey, needle-noggin.” Wolfwood placed a hand on Vash’s shoulder and gave him a subtle shake.
Vash however, continued to mumble words Wolfwood couldn’t make out.
Wolfwood took a breath and attempted to cradle the sides of Vash’s head. His hands stopped mid way, albeit briefly. For as careful as he tried to be, as soon as his fingers crawled into Vash's hair, Vash's breath hitched and his head lolled to one side.
"Fuck … Sorry … 'm sorry!" Vash sobbed.
"Calm down blondie. You're just asleep." Wolfwood spoke with the most gentle tone he could muster. Although it seemed that the innate gruffness of his voice caused Vash to flinch.
Vash whimpered as his face pinched more and his head shook from side to side. At the same time Vash's breathing began to pick up and Wolfwood's heart beat in tandem.
"I don't wanna be here … I just want to go away … Rem … I'm ... sorry …" Vash murmured in between sobs whilst his head continued to move this way and that.
Wolfwood's heart gave a strong pang as he took in how much pain each word carried; the sentiment emphasized by the tears that crept out of Vash’s closed eyes. He grit his teeth and squinted his eyes. With all the gentleness he could conjure, Wolfwood hushed Vash while rubbing his thumbs against Vash's temples. Unsure of what to say, he spoke the first words that crossed his mind. He hoped that they could appease Vash’s subconscious. "It's okay blondie, you're not alone; you are safe where you are right now. Why don't you try going back to sleep?"
Vash's face scrunched further and his head moved sharply to one side. His breathing became more erratic as he threw more apologies and called for the person named Rem. Wolfwood could not say, or even think, that he did not feel bad for Vash; sympathy blooming in his heart the more he witnessed Vash’s torment. Then another whimper escaped Vash’s lips and Wolfwood hushed him again while lightly tapping his cheek. Wolfwood tried to speak gently and keep his touch comforting with the hope that Vash would feel safe enough to ease back into a peaceful slumber.
"It's okay, blondie,” he repeated, “you can break out of it. You’re alright ..."
It took a few more moments of Wolfwood cradling Vash’s head, and gently shushing him before his patience seemed to finally pay off. As Vash slowly calmed, Wolfwood sighed in relief and was about to move his hands from Vash's head. The victory was short lived as Vash's eyes suddenly fluttered open and a loud gasp burst through his mouth.
Wolfwood froze, eyes wide and mouth a bit agape. He was hoping that Vash had eased into sleep once more. Nevertheless, seeing Vash free from the night terror was a relief. So much so, that he managed to break out of his small stupor and he let his thumbs dry the tears rolling down Vash's face.
"There you are, 'atta boy." Wolfwood murmured with more relief in his voice than he thought he had.
Glossy with tears still unshed, Vash’s sky blue eyes moved about as Vash seemed to focus. Wolfwood whispered a small ‘hey’ while tightening his hold just enough to get his attention. The terrified gaze on Vash’s face finally focused on him, and his thick brows upturned over squinted eyes.
"Ni-Nick?"
It was the first time Wolfwood heard Vash, or anyone call him by that nickname. He was used to hearing the other kids in the orphanage call him 'Nico', and there had been times where Vash would unconsciously call him 'Nicholas'. Yet he had not expected to be called 'Nick' by Vash, for it implied a level of trust. And that thought was enhanced by the softness and the relief that was so palpable in Vash’s pained voice. There was a little jump in his chest at the thought of Vash trusting him. Wolfwood swallowed hard, and along with the feeling of relief his heart grew heavy. Yet at the same time he could not find it in him to say anything against Vash calling him that. The nickname sounded unbearably sweet coming from those lips. And Wolfwood, albeit briefly, thought that it was a nickname he could get used to.
“Yes blondie, it’s jus’ little ol’ me.” Wolfwood’s thumb moved to dry another of Vash’s tears. He hadn’t realized his own action until after he had done it. And as a response Vash closed his eyes just as he took in a deep, shuddery breath and leaned slightly into his touch.
There was another jump in Wolfwood’s heart, but it was stronger and thus much harder to ignore, but he had to force himself to. That resolve was tested right as he retrieved his hands from Vash’s head, and the latter, although subtle, chased after his touch. Wolfwood’s instincts almost had him putting his hands back, but he resisted by moving to sit next to Vash. Once he leaned his back against one of the suitcases and deemed himself comfortable enough, he dug for his cigarettes and lighter.
"So … are you alright then?"
For a moment Vash kept his eyes closed as he swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He moved his back up while pulling the one side of his jacket that had slid off his shoulder, so that he could be sitting in a position similar to Wolfwood’s. Their arms were pressed to each other but Wolfwood busied himself with his smoking.
Vash rubbed his nape while his eyes were still closed. Right before he answered he opened his eyes halfway and he offered Wolfwood a small half smile. "I will be. Thank you."
“Geez blondie, if you’re going to smile at least try to make it convincing …” Although he said that with some snark, it did bother him to see Vash so downhearted.
Vash gave a little chuckle as he stretched out the blanket over his legs a little. “That bad, huh?”
Wolfwood took the cigarette from his mouth and puffed out some smoke away from Vash, even though he was directing a narrowed gaze at him.
At least this time he’s not trying to hide it …
“Yea, it is. And as if you disrupting my sleep, even when you’re out here, wasn’t already bad enough.”
While Vash didn’t entirely drop the smile, it did lose the little sweetness it had. Once again he looked away from Wolfwood and started fiddling with his own fingers. "Sorry … I-I thought it would be a good idea to sleep out here ...”
“And why in the hell would you think that?” Wolfwood raised an eyebrow at him.
Vash looked at him with a little confusion. “Well … I have noticed that I’ve been disturbing your sleep because of my night terrors. I was hoping that my little ‘issue’ wouldn’t stop you from resting tonight, but seeing as you're here right now, it seems my idea didn’t work out as intended …"
Wolfwood was in the process of bringing the cigarette to his mouth. After Vash gave his explanation, Wolfwood stopped midway and looked at Vash again. “Wait, so, you really laid out here so that you wouldn’t wake any of us up?”
Vash gave a half hearted shrug, “yea. Especially you, since you’re right next to me and you always wake up whenever I’m … well … you know. I feel bad that you keep losing sleep because of me.”
Again there was that smile, the one that was sweet and kind, but that sometimes also carried a pain hidden deep within. And like always Wolfwood found himself disarmed by it. He slowly looked away as he put the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest as he wished he could take back his sarcasm from earlier. He also felt a bit of frustration and like he owed Vash.
Wolfwood put out the remainder of the cigarette and left it aside to dispose of later. He leaned a little further back and arched one of his legs while the other he left stretched out, proceeding to then cross his arms and look at Vash with a calm but concerned look. He asked, "what were you dreaming about? If you want or need to talk about it, that is."
The wrinkling of Vash’s face erased the disheartened smile to replace it with a despondent frown. Vash looked down at his own fingers, which he began to fiddle with, particularly the ones from his prosthetic.
Wolfwood observed him through a few moments of silence. He told himself that he shouldn’t have expected Vash to answer. For as friendly and kind as he was, there was much the man kept to himself. Hence he wondered why he felt a bit disappointed. Though, he could always blame it solely on his curiosity.
“It’s alright, pretend I didn't ask." Wolfwood murmured as he turned away from Vash and leaned further back to look at the sky.
Vash looked at him with wide eyes and a bit of alarm in his voice. “N-No, no! I just … I haven’t talked to anyone but one person about this … and it has been a while. A very long while, actually. Not sure how to say it …”
Wolfwood looked at him and made a silent expression of acknowledgement by nodding. He stretched out both of his arms, one of them slithering just behind Vash’s neck, and the other finding a perch atop another of the suitcases. “You don’t have to tell me all of the details.”
Vash held Wolfwood’s gaze for a small moment. Thereupon he looked down at his hands again, pensive. “Something … happened in my past; an accident. I … I made a mistake that cost me much: The relationship I had with my brother and … the life of someone else that was very dear to me.”
“Rem.” Wolfwood took the guess without thinking about it.
Vash looked at him with wide eyes, a question in them.
Wolfwood realized that his guess was too unexpected, especially since although he has heard Vash mention the name, Vash has never spoken to Wolfwood about the person. He pulled his lips to the side whilst scratching the stubble on his jaw line. “You’ve mentioned that name several times while dreaming, including today, so I was taking a wild guess.”
Vash looked down at his hands again. “She was like ---- no, she was my mother … She took me and my brother in, raised us … loved us ...”
The way Vash trailed off gave Wolfwood the impression that he wanted to add more to the explanation. But he didn’t need Vash to add more. “And she passed away … and you blame yourself for it.”
Vash's expression grew more dispirited. He nodded while keeping his head down and murmured. “Even after many years, I still dream about it often.” Still saddened, he looked at Wolfwood with a subtle tilt of the head. “How did you know? Or was it just another wild guess?”
Wolfwood scratched the other side of his jaw as he gave a thought. His eyes wandered over Vash's form, but he stopped and lingered particularly on Vash's eyes. Always so kind and soft, which could mask the subtle weight that was on them. And when looked closer, Wolfwood could detect the beginnings of dark bags forming.
“There’s sometimes this guilt, and tiredness in your eyes." Wolfwood murmured without taking his eyes off Vash's. Yet again Vash looked at him questioningly, and Wolfwood added, "you also apologize a lot when you have those night terrors. And I suppose the crying is also a big giveaway.”
Vash let out a little huff and a small smile, though it lacked genuine humor. “Yea … I suppose it does.”
“What about Knives then? He’s your brother, but why is he so hellbent in causing you and others so much trouble? It sounds like you two were close at some point, unless I misunderstood.”
Vash shook his head once. “You didn’t, we were very close … but now it’s just … complicated.”
Wolfwood scoffed, “I guess I can relate. To some extent.”
Curious but calm, Vash gave Wolfwood his attention. “You can relate? Do you have a brother too?”
Wolfwood almost flinched as Vash's question made him realize what he just said. He sighed at himself and thought: There’s no point in taking it back now I guess …
“I do. Not one related by blood, but a brother nonetheless.” Wolfwood was going to leave it at that, but after a few moments he felt Vash move. Wolfwood raised an eyebrow as he looked to see what Vash was up to, and the latter had shifted a little to look at him more directly with just a hint of innocent inquisitiveness in his sky blue eyes, despite the night terrors that had tormented him moments ago. That shine made Vash’s eyes look heavenly, even in the darkness. Wolfwood could not stop himself from thinking that he liked that look on Vash far more.
Despite that, Wolfwood tipped his head back to look at the stars with a sigh, “there’s not much to the story, blondie. He was just a kid that had a hard time adapting: always alone, quiet, used to cry himself to sleep … And I just couldn’t stand hearing him cry every night, or seeing him alone.”
Wolfwood didn’t look at Vash directly, but he did catch when a fond smile eased itself into Vash’s face. “So you decided to help him, like you did with me just now.”
Wolfwood hadn’t made that connection, neither had he realized how much he was letting out. He also considered that the look on his face must have been priceless because Vash let out an airy giggle.
“See? Like I told you: I can see the goodness in your eyes. Whether you want to believe me or not, Nick.”
There was that nickname again. Wolfwood was taken aback by both it, and Vash's words once more. He still couldn't find a way to refute them. He made his surprise known to Vash with his look. Vash flinched prior to offering a small sheepish smile.
"Sorry, I mean, Wolfwood."
“Tch,” Wolfwood lightly flicked Vash’s forehead and grunted, “can you be any more of a sap, needle-noggin.”
Vash simply laughed softly again as he touched the spot where Wolfwood had flicked him.
Wolfwood huffed, but he got a sense of satisfaction to see that expression on Vash. While there still was an air of sadness clinging to him, the mirth was genuine. And the sweetness of it was enriched by the subtle flush that lingered over his cheeks. Wolfwood tried to fight the tug that the corner of his lips gave. But he could not resist it, thus he ended up half smiling.
“And …” Wolfwood began, but trailed off into a brief silence. From the corner of his eye he caught Vash tilting his head to one side, and blinking those curious eyes of his. Wolfwood was not sure how to manage the amount of endearment he felt over such a sight. “You can call me Nick … if you prefer that.”
Vash blinked owlishly, “really? You don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t be telling you if I did, don’t you think? ‘Sides, you’ve called me by my first name too already.”
“Yea … that's uh, a slip of the tongue.” Again Vash grinned, sheepish.
“Well, feel free to call me either. They’re still part of my name anyway.”
Vash half smiled with fondness, “Okay. Nick.”
Once more Wolfwood felt a sense of satisfaction. It felt a little strange, and part of him questioned why he was letting his relationship with Vash get that personal, despite the constant reminders of his purpose of following Vash. But he didn't want to think about that at the moment, and he did just that. He captured Vash's head in a headlock and grinned his knuckles on Vash's head.
"Roberto and Meryl better not hear you call me that though. That's a privilege only you can have, capiche?"
Vash barely made an attempt to free himself from Wolfwood's hold. Wolfwood didn't release him until he agreed amidst a fit of giggles. After Wolfwood released Vash, the latter retook his spot leaning against the suitcase. When their arms were pressed against each other again, Vash nudged Wolfwood, but he simply smirked and stretched out his arm behind Vash’s head again.
Once the both of them calmed down again, Wolfwood heard Vash let out a deep sigh. Vash was looking up at the sky blanketed by stars. His eyes were half lidded and under a slight crease of his eyebrows, but there was the smallest upturn to the corner of his lips.
“The sky is beautiful tonight.” Vash murmured.
After Vash’s comment, the word ‘beautiful’ stuck in a small loop In Wolfwood’s head whilst his eyes lingered on Vash. And although his heart beat with a little more strength, he turned his gaze towards the sky. While he did agree with Vash’s statement, his eyes were drawn towards Vash again.
“Nai and I used to watch the stars like this all the time when we were kids.”
Even if he was still looking at Vash, the mention of the name Nai perked his ears. It was a sudden reminder to break out of whatever spell he was being put into; a sudden reminder of what he was supposed to do. And that thought boiled frustration in his heart.
He put it all aside, most of his attention refocusing on Vash. “‘Nai’ … you keep calling Knives that. I’m assuming that’s his true name?”
“Yea. ‘Knives’ is such a dreadful name … to me, he will always be ‘Nai’. And while I can't choose for him, I wish he would have walked down a different path …”
Wolfwood hummed as he looked at the stars again. He had only heard whispers about Millions Knives, things he never gave much thought about whether to question or believe. He has always maintained as much distance as he could; following orders without a second thought. Naturally, in Wolfwood's mind, Knives was just a cold, distant enigma that everyone either idolized and respected, or feared. And Wolfwood never cared to change that view. So to hear Vash speak of him with a tone filled with fond nostalgia, was bizarre to Wolfwood. But it was more than clear to him that despite the strain, Vash still believed in the bond he had with his brother.
It was sad, maybe bitter-sweet. A brotherly bond that seemed broken beyond repair, but that forever hung by a thread.
Wolfwood frowned softly as he looked down and his heart sank.
“My brother and I …” Wolfwood started, trailing off as his brain caught up with his mouth. From the corner of his eye he saw Vash looking at him with a serene expression, and with his full attention. That was when a warm feeling expanded in Wolfwood’s chest, which pushed out the rest of the words he considered stopping. “We would occasionally go stargazing too. We had a curfew at the orphanage, but we wanted to get the best views late at night. So, we would have to sneak out in order to do that.”
Vash’s lips turned up a little bit at the corners as he tilted his head. “Sounds like you were a bit of a handful.”
Wolfwood could not stop the amused huff and the smirk he let out as memories flooded into his mind. “Only once in a while.”
"’Once in a while’. Right. Why do I not believe you?" Vash retorted through a half smile and with the arching of an eyebrow.
"Ouch needle-noggin, you’re brutal. At least give me some benefit of doubt. Geez." Wolfwood said in mock hurt. Yet he could not keep the smirk off his face.
Vash giggled before his smile turned fond. “I don’t recall me and Nai getting into too much trouble. I could hardly ever bring myself to make Rem worry about my behavior. That’s not to say that I didn’t tease her once in a while.”
Wolfwood chuckled, “you know, that actually sounds just about right. It’s a shame that your penchant to avoid trouble didn’t follow you into adulthood.”
“Oh come on, now it’s my turn to say: give me some benefit of doubt.”
Wolfwood laughed. He wanted to hear more about Vash’s fond memories, his curiosity starting to get the best of him. He considered that that was his reasoning for telling Vash a bit about his own childhood. He was simply curious and if he wanted to know about Vash, it was fair for him to offer a bit of himself too. He soon found himself telling Vash more about his time in the orphanage and his brother. He didn’t tell Vash his brother’s name however, and he left out many things he was not ready to share. He stuck with retelling the more pleasant of his memories and when he was done, Vash talked a bit more about his own childhood with Rem and Nai.
At some point during their conversation they fell into comfortable silence. The exchange had apparently been that light hearted and relaxing. They stared at the stars until Wolfwood felt himself getting drowsy. He yawned long and loud, not even bothering to cover his mouth or excusing himself. After yawning he scratched his head and was going to move so that he could go back in the car to sleep.
“Hey blondie, I’m gonna----” A sudden weight descended over his chest, cutting him off mid sentence. His eyes widened a bit and he blinked as he looked down and came into the sight of golden hair.
Vash had fallen completely limp against his side, with his head lading perfectly over his chest.
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow and attempted to nudge Vash awake, though he was careful about it. “Oi, needle-noggin?”
The only reply he got from Vash came in the form of a steady string of light snores escaping from subtly parted lips.
Wolfwood scoffed around a smirk he directed towards the sky. “Looks like I won’t be going anywhere …”
Once more the voice of his better judgment advised him against the tenderness, the warmth, the attachment he was threading with Vash. He was supposed to have reasons to maintain his distance, and apparently so did Vash. Therefore, Wolfwood had to question why he and Vash were so comfortable being more affectionate with each other. Although, he reminded himself that while they have been traveling, when they fell asleep in the car, more often than not Wolfwood would wake up to having Vash's head cozily tucked between his own head and shoulder, and he would do nothing about it but indulge.
Perhaps it was companionship; a feeling of solace that they did not need to give voice to, but that they could both understand. Even though Wolfwood had not been aware of it before, and was still hesitant to confront. Yet he has slowly begun to accept that no matter how much he tried, he could not pull away, for he was like metal and Vash was like a magnet. And perhaps, it was too late to pull away.
Wolfwood scoffed and smirked again. He ruffled his own hair prior to, with utmost caution, reaching for the blanket Vash had been using. After he managed to take a hold of it, he accommodated himself by carefully sliding down and resting his head back. Which in turn allowed for Vash’s head to rest more snugly against him.
“Heh, if this’ll let me … and, well, him I guess, finally fucking sleep, I suppose I’ll take it.” Wolfwood murmured to the night sky before throwing the blanket over the both of them and closing his eyes. He stretched out his arms while letting one final yawn. His arm fell around Vash as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, and was finally submerged into a dreamless slumber …