Chapter Text
The pacifist in Vash was screaming.
It always did whenever he got thirsty like this. Whenever he couldn’t keep it at bay with food, water, or even worms. Of all the flora, all the plants back on Earth (what he wouldn’t have given to have been stuck on Earth compared to this wasteland) why did he and Nai happen to end up being connected to the carnivorous ones?
He drained the last of his cannister of water, running the rim along his tongue for whatever precious few precious drops remained in there, not that it would make any difference. His throat was wet, and then dry again within the minute. The craving for blood, it was something far more primal.
Dependent plants were able to get by on their tanks, provided the water was right, and occasionally a drop or two of human blood if they were struggling to get by. A small price to pay in exchange for what they gave, most thought. It wasn’t until after The Big Fall that Vash found himself staring into a tank with jealousy, a position he never thought he’d envy. As a child he couldn’t imagine anything worse than floating aimlessly in a tank, cocooned in a bud, only getting fed a spoonful of blood when something was wrong, with only the hivemind for company, and occasionally, the prodding of two nosy independents.
Now, Vash felt a deep pang of envy, of loneliness.
He and Nai needed far more, especially to heal. What Vash wouldn’t give to return to a state of being cherished and held, of Rem gently administering blood that he knew to have been given so willingly by someone he didn’t know, didn’t have to know. But here in this wasteland, there was intimacy, faces, wounds, bruises, the taste of sweat on his tongue.
Worst of all was the confession. The eyes that instantly went to his mouth. His lips. His neck. The way their hand would reach up to touch their own.
“It’s fine. I keep some vials in my bag.” Vash couldn’t bring himself to meet Meryl’s eyes. Roberto wore his signature knowing look, his eyes moving over Vash, then Meryl, then Wolfwood, who seemed to stir, shifting his ever-present cross on his shoulders.
“Shouldn’t you keep that kind of thing on you at all times?” Roberto motioned with his flask, as though they were the same thing.
“I normally do, but I’m running short.” Vash, still refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, dug around in his sack, pulling out a small wooden box and opening it. Five left. He’d normally only need half of one to help him shake the sore muscles from all the running he’d been doing the past few days, but the dehydration was getting to his head, he needed two.
“Great, so now we have to worry about you going crazy at night and running off to hunt when those run out?” Wolfwood scowled at the vials.
“It doesn’t work like that, Wolfwood.” Vash grumbled as he knocked back two vials, despising how good it felt in his mouth. “I’m not some rabid beast, I’m in control and I know how to get more. Ethically.” Wolfwood bristled at that.
“So even though you need human blood to survive, you still won’t kill someone.” Roberto shared a look with Wolfwood before taking a swig from his flask.
“No, I won’t.” Vash confirmed, tucking the box away. Three left. Three left.
“And what happens when you run out of those? You’ll keel over and die before hurting a human?” Wolfwood scowled, Vash’s body became tense. “Come on, no normal human needs to drink blood to survive. There’s always been a you and them.”
Before Vash could answer, a pair of small hands grabbed his cheeks. Meryl’s thumbs pulled his lips apart, baring his teeth.
He knew exactly what she was looking for, and exactly what she found. Pointed, animalistic fangs. A little whine came from his throat as he deliberately looked away from her.
“Amazing…” She let out a breath. Vash snapped back to reality, meeting her eyes, wide with intrigue. “You don’t burn in the sun.” She slowly pulled her hands from his mouth for him to answer.
“You’d be surprised what the stories get wrong.” He laughed softly. “I do burn, eventually. But I wouldn’t last very long on No Man’s Land if I crumbled at the sight of sunlight.”
“Yeah, yeah, listen,” Wolfwood scowled, adjusting the cross on his back again, “we need to move. Clearly the meat from the giant worm isn’t keeping you sated, vampire boy.” Vash shot him a scowl before he got up. Once Wolfwood and Roberto had turned away, he felt a tug at his sleeve.
“If you’re ever in a tight spot…” Meryl spoke softly, “so long as and you don’t take too much.” Her eyes were locked onto his, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. He smiled at her, and pet her head, deliberately leaving her beret a little skewed. He knew it annoyed her. She huffed as she fixed it, but smiled.
“I won’t be running out. There’s a town nearby that I know can help me.” Vash smiled, but his teeth were tightly clenched behind it. He saw Wolfwood bristle in the corner of his eye. He knew he’d heard, and he certainly wasn’t happy about it.
Sleeping in shifts was going to be difficult for a while.
Vash didn’t know whether to be relieved or filled with dread that his companions stuck around after finding out he was a vampire. Normally that was what scared people off. If not that, then his nature as a plant did it.
Now, though… now, he wished they’d run for the hills. He couldn’t relax, he needed another vial again after Rolo, and on top of it all Wolfwood had fucking killed him, and was strutting around like it was his God-given right for him to be judge, jury, and executioner. He scowled out of the car window, his body twisted away from Wolfwood, wound so tight that he could feel the ache in his already-sore bones.
He didn’t want to drink in front of them again. He didn’t want to hear what they’d say. Especially Wolfwood.
He fumbled through his jacket and his pockets again, hoping, praying he had one stashed away that he’d forgotten about. His fingers found the small bag he usually kept five in, he poured the little vials into his hand. Empty. Every last one.
“Guess that town didn’t keep your emergency stash for you.” Wolfwood mused. Vash turned away form him again. He didn’t need to hear it, least of all from him, Wolfwood wasn’t exactly a normal human either. The sand steamer would have something. He didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of stealing an emergency blood bag, but he’d take that over biting someone. Especially Wolfwood.
By the time he got through the journey, the sand steamer’s med bay was the least of Vash’s concerns, not that he would have been able to swipe anything from it anyway. Not only had Meryl gone and found out he was a plant, but he’d collapsed on the spot. He should have expected it, communicating with his sisters always drained him, to do it when he was dehydrated and after a fight was asking for trouble. He remembers so very little, half-lidded eyes rising and falling, a wrist being waved in his face while his lips were peeled back, Wolfwood shouting, Wolfwood drinking one of his weird blue vials that made Vash feel nauseous at the thought of what might be in them.
And then he remembers his last two vials being poured into his mouth.
Honestly, by now he was far more concerned about his arm. Brad was never “gentle” per se, but he was being particularly rough with him this time around, normally he would at least try not to jam a screwdriver into his artificial nerves.
“Are you even listening to me?” He grunted up at Vash.
“Yeah, sorry.” Vash shook himself back to reality before another jab at his arm did. He jolted as he felt something in it get tightened.
“Your friend said you were out of vials.” Brad repeated, having little faith that Vash was listening. He was mostly right. “There’s still plenty in the medical wing, and some blood bags too. Don’t touch the ones meant for the plants, there’s a batch of them marked with a new formula they want to test. Something about the balance in the water for them. Don’t know what effect it’ll have on an independent.”
“Got it. Thank you. Ngh!” Vash winced as he felt something in his wrist tighten. The feeling went right through him, but it was better than having a cracked arm that could break at any second. “I’ll need to look at the fingers…” Brad sighed, and stood. His bones cracked as they did. “Be right back.”
That left Vash alone with Wolfwood.
Wolfwood.
The man who had been scowling at him this entire time.
“The orphanage?” Vash began.
“Safe. The ship missed any civilisation.”
“Good.” Vash let out a breath, finally relaxing.
“You’re out of vials.” Woflwood noted.
“I know.”
“Are you going to get more while you’re here?”
“Of course I am.”
Wolfwood seemed to think for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but he set his jaw instead.
“I know I could drink from people. I could be good at it.” Vash eyed him carefully. “You know I would be. I could make the tiniest cut while someone sleeps, and what I would get from that would last me a few days. I could knock someone out, feed from them, and keep myself going for a month. If I carried a needle and syringe, I could stockpile, and never run out.”
“But you don’t.”
“But I don’t.” Vash repeated. “It wouldn’t be right. It’s different when someone offers.”
“Meryl offered.”
“And she’s incredibly sweet to do so, but I don’t want to get to a situation where I need to take her up on that offer. Biting people is messy, it’s wasteful.” It’s intimate, he wanted to say. He hoped Wolfwood would understand what he meant. He had to.
“Geez, Blondie…” Wolfwood grumbled, he was practically chewing his unlit cigarette. He pulled up the chair in Vash’s room, spun it to face the door, and sat on it backwards to face Vash, arms resting against the back of the chair. “True or false…”
“Wolfwood.”
“Answer the question. Do you- vampires, do you hypnotise people?”
“No, I don’t think we have that kind of thing in our arsenal.” Not that Vash had a lot of experience with other plants and their powers.
“Are plants and vampires two different things, or are they the same?”
“Well…” Vash scrunched his nose at that. “Technically no, but the only real proof we have is that the folklore creature from way back when came first. Technically vampires don’t really exist, but it’s the word that fits. All plants need sustenance, and usually the water they float in does fine. It’s all about the conditions.” His eyes fell to the floor. “The reason I need more is because I’m an independent. Realistically, I don’t drink as much as I should, but eating food, drinking fluids that aren’t blood, even worms, it helps. It makes the thirst less demanding.”
“So, your normal hunger and your thirst…” Wolfwood was beginning to understand.
“They’re separate, yes.”
“This entire time?”
“I always feel thirsty, Wolfwood. Enough time passes after the last drink and my senses are screaming. I get dulled, I can’t move as fast, can’t think as fast, can’t see as well.”
“You become like a human.” Wolfwood filled in the blanks.
“Which isn’t so bad, I think. At least if I’m not being chased or gunned down.”
“You boys done?” Brad stood at the door, waiting for Woflwood to move. “Vash isn’t anything to worry about.” Brad scowled at Wolfwood, putting the chair back into place once he’d left it, and taking his spot back in front of Vash, with a new, finer set of tools to examine his prosthetic fingers.
“He’s hardly intimidating.” Wolfwood scoffed. Normally, Vash would feel relieved at such a sentiment. A few moments passed before Wolfwood chuckled. “If anyone was a vampire, I figured it’d be Roberto, the way he kept bugging me about The Punisher.”
“He really hated that cross, didn’t he?” Vash was grateful for the laugh, even if Brad did smack him across the head for moving.
July was far more vicious to Vash than he expected, and it wasn’t until he got shot that he realised how much danger he was in. He had been in such a hurry to get there, to save Meryl and Roberto, he’d only managed to grab five vials of blood. He’d knocked each one back, but the bleeding was only slowing, barely stopping. His head thrummed. His thirst felt like someone was gripping his throat. He hungrily drained the last vial, dropping it to the floor while he clutched his bleeding side. He couldn’t stop, he had to keep going, had to-
“Blondie.”
“What?” The word came out far sharper than Vash intended it to.
Wolfwood was in from of him, eye to eye, angling his neck towards him. Five wasn’t enough, he knew this, Wolfwood knew this, they both knew this.
He couldn’t, he shouldn’t, it’d hurt, it’d feel so good, it’d help, he’d survive.
“You’ll need it” Wolfwood’s voice seemed to echo.
He’d need it against Nai.
“It’ll hurt you.” Vash whispered. His fangs ached. When was the last time he bit someone?
“You think I care about a little pain? One of my own vials fixes me right up.”
“That’s not the point.” Vash forced himself to turn away. Forced himself to stop staring at Wolfwood’s jugular vein, wondering if the blue veins tasted anything like his blue vials. Wolfwood’s hands grabbed a fistful of Vash’s hair, and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. Vash wanted to hold him, to wrap his arms around him, his whole body seemed to go limp, enveloped in his scent.
Wolfwood had always smelled so good to him. Underneath the cigarettes and whiskey stains there was a comfort, like ash in the wind. Vash couldn’t stay away from him for long, he knew he had been leading him to Nai, but he’d come to enjoy his constant presence, his lingering figure on the corner of Vash’s vision.
He was a comfort, an anchor, something that for once, for once, stayed consistent in his life.
Vash was salivating now. He’d wanted this for so long, wanted him for so long.
“Do it.” Wolfwood growled, and Vash didn’t think he could disobey if he wanted to.
His teeth pierced Wolfwood’s skin, and from the second it broke, everything Vash hated in himself came out. It was natural, he was a predator, he had sharp teeth, he could move quietly, he could see at night perfectly, he was a goddamn predator. A snarl came from his mouth, as if anyone else would come between the two men hiding in a sewer, and his fingers dug into Wolfwood wherever they could find purchase. His legs wrapped around Wolfwood- Nicholas’s waist.
His blood flowed freely and thick into his mouth, and Vash loved it. He hated how he loved it. His mouth was clamped firmly onto Nicholas, who shifted, just slightly, but Vash didn’t take to that kindly. He growled, he growled, and his feet found the floor again, his hands balling into fists around Nicholas’s jacket, and he was shoved up against the wall. The movement caused his mouth to shift, and he felt the blood smear at his face. He hungrily licked at the wound he caused again, over, and over, and over. He felt like it wouldn’t end, like it could never end.
At least until he felt himself resurfacing, and the licking and sucking at Nicholas’s neck became slow, soft kisses. He didn’t know when Nicholas had pulled out a blue vial, but as Vash seemed to blink, to remember himself, the cap was off, and he drained it. Vash watched in amazement as the puncture wounds hissed and closed, he closed his eyes and licked the remaining blood away, an apology for causing such a mess. The newly healed skin was hot and acidic in comparison to the rest of him.
“Ease up, Needle-noggin. You’ve licked me clean.” Nicholas gave Vash’s shoulder a little shove, and it wasn’t until their bodies were separate again than the feelings inside Vash resurfaced and twisted. He still had the taste of Nicholas in his mouth, and it suddenly made him feel sick. His hands went up to his head, tugging at his hair, cursing himself for only taking five vials, for letting Meryl and Roberto be taken, for not thinking ahead-
“Hey, hey, shh.” Nicholas’s voice.
He gave a little tug at Vash’s wrists, pulling them away from his head. He couldn’t understand, he didn’t understand, and on top of it all, thanks to Vash, he’d wasted another vial. If he got hurt, it'd be one less-
“I’d rather have you in the best shape possible before goin’ in there.” He spoke softly, and then his arms were around Vash. “Wanted to give you a fighting chance.” Vash couldn’t help but gingerly wrap his arms around Wolfwood in return, holding him like he was made of glass.
They stayed like that for a while. Vash’s forehead pressed against Nicholas’s shoulder, Nicholas smoking silently, but always having at least one arm wrapped around Vash.
“I’m ready.” Vash pried himself from Wolfwood’s embrace, though everything in his body screamed, missing his absence already. “We should keep moving.” Wordlessly, Wolfwood put his cigarette out with his foot, and hauled The Punisher onto his back again.