Chapter Text
Death was the end. No longer would your soul walk the physical plane, and instead you would join the lord at his side in heaven. Ok, maybe Wolfwood didn't fully believe in heaven. It wasn't bullshit, just maybe too good to be true. The idea of pearly gates and eternal peace was something that brought comfort to even him, but it also brought fear. Fear of never finding peace. Fear of disappearing without a trace. Fear of being left behind while everyone else got to live.
Wolfwood was scared of death too. He always knew that it was bound to happen, no one can escape the grim reaper. Yet as he laid on his deathbed, sharing his last drink with Vash, he was terrified.
At that moment he wanted more than anything to just live. What would happen to the orphanage if he died? Or Vash, Meryl, and Milly. Oh god Milly! He didn't want to hurt her. He never even got to say how much he loved her! As his breathing labored, Wolfwood found himself fading away. His eyes became dotted with specks of black, and Vash’s form growing fuzzy as he fought to stay alive.
He wanted to live. He needed to live. He-
Nicholas’s eyes closed, death overtaking him as his mind faded to nothing. There wasn't heaven, or a peaceful utopia. Just darkness. It wasn't as if it mattered though. Dead bodies didn't care about things like betrayal and disappointment. That was one benefit of death he supposed. Yet with benefits came drawbacks.
Disappearing would have been better than just floating through the void. Was this a void? Maybe it was purgatory? Either way Wolfwood felt he was being punished for his actions in the world, and if that was the case then it was deserved.
There were many souls sent to hell because of him, so it only made sense he would follow behind them. Life was rough, unforgiving, and no one was able to survive unless they fought for it. He didn't have a choice, or maybe he was just telling himself that. He wanted to justify his actions, but each time he tried he thought back to Vash.
The blonde with a crazy death wish, and the ability to befriend almost anyone. There were many parts of the man that Wolfwood still scoffed at even in death, but there were some things he couldn't help but envy. Never would he want to be so stupidly passive as the blonde, don't get him wrong! Yet he wished desperately he could have had that same joy and innocence that Vash carried with him to every situation.
Wolfwood had to grow up fast. Orphans didn't get the luxury of playing with toys or seeing the world in a positive light. By the time he was ten he was taking care of the younger kids at the orphanage, and doing odd jobs to help out. There wasn't a moment where he didn't know how cruel the world was, and he was envious of those who remained ignorant.
Vash was the opposite of him. He was incredibly optimistic, joyful, and didn't seem to be bothered by the horrors of the world. It practically washed off his back as though it never happened. Every person was good in his mind too, and unlike Wolfwood he wasn't stuck seeing the evil in the souls of men.
Why couldn't Wolfwood be the same? Why did he have to live a life of trials and tribulations? Did he do something in a past life that led to him being punished? If he was still alive he would have laughed. A man like him believing in reincarnation? What has come over him?
Once more his soul had faded away, falling back into “sleep” as he floated down the river of purgatory. Would he finally be accepted into God's arms? Or maybe hell was ready to consume him. Either way he had no choice.
Suddenly there was a spark of light that warmed his soul. It broke through the thick blanket of darkness like a lance, pushing its way forward before enveloping him in its soft rays. A comforting hug that held him close, pulling him into its bright abyss. There was no fight left in Wolfwood as the light consumed him. One soul in the sea of lost life.
Finally he would be free from his senseless wandering. He was tired, ready for his soul to disappear into the wind. All he had to offer to those who may remember him was pain, and he supposed there was no better time than now to erase it all. Memories, body, and soul will all melt away until the world forgot about him.
Except that didn't happen.
All of the sudden his soul was being burned. The heat scorched every inch of his nonexistent body, and filled his surroundings with blinding light. He can't say it hurt (souls can't feel pain), yet as time progressed what could only be described as an electric shock grew and grew until finally it consumed him. He wanted to scream, but no noise came out. He tried to fight, but he didn't even have limbs to move. Forget what he had said before, this was hell!
And if things couldn't have gotten worse, he woke up.
Air instantly rushed into his lungs, pulling him straight out of death as he gasped and writhed where he laid. It hurt as his senses came back, hitting him like a truck as it all hit him at once. He could even smell the air with each breath he took. Letting it burn his nostrils as he enjoyed the simple act he never thought he would miss.
So, was this heaven? it was probably the hundredth time he had asked himself that, but this time he thought it was true. Especially as sunlight kissed at his skin, and the sand beneath nipped at him. He wasn't a floating soul anymore, so what was he?
Wolfwood cracked an eye open, shutting it back closed the moment the harsh light burned his retinas. It hurt, and that only confused him further. You weren't supposed to feel pain when dead. Quickly, he wrenched his eyes back open. Panic made its way into his heart as he stared up at the sky. It was normal. A regular ass blue sky with the sun happily beaming down on him. Very anticlimactic.
With curiosity plaguing his mind he attempted to sit up. Wolfwood strained his body every which way, but he didn't even move an inch. For some reason he was weak, couldn't even lift a finger if he wanted to, and it was making him more frustrated by the second. He didn't even have the strength to move the little dark baby hairs that continued to fall into his eyes, and he could only groan in response as he was left to try and blow them away. Humiliation growing deep within him the longer he spent sprawled across the hot sand.
So, he wasn't in heaven. That much was obvious. But this also wasn't hell. Unless hell now had sunny skies and sand, but he doubted that. With those two scratched off the board he was lost. He vividly remembered dying, yet now he wasn't dead? None of it made sense.
Once again Wolfwood tried to move, using all the energy he had in order to roll. It was embarrassing. He should be able to do this! Even babies can roll their fat bodies over! Yet this simple action took everything he had in him. Though once on his stomach he realized a new issue. What now?
A shrill scream interrupted his thoughts, sending a shockwave through Wolfwood as he attempted to look behind him. His body wouldn't cooperate though, and he was left a beached whale as the sound of footsteps quickly retreated. Ok, new plan, he was crawling away.
With a groan he lifted his hand, promptly sinking it back into the sand so he could pull himself forward. He continued to drag his limp body forward, moving an inch each time. Except he didn't get far. Not until a wall of some kind blocked his path. Crap, how didn't he notice that before!?
Wolfwood craned his head upwards, ignoring how his neck ached in protest. With the sun no longer in his eyes he was able to make out what it was, and when he did he felt his heart drop into his stomach.
The Punisher. It was the fucking Punisher that was blocking his path, standing upright like an impeding foe. That wasn't the most shocking aspect though. No. If that was all then his blood wouldn't have gone frigid as it just did. This wasn't his Punisher. It couldn't have been. Yes, it's a pretty big weapon, but never did it tower over him as though he was finger food! He became lost in his own mind, completely ignoring the world around him as he continued to stare at his now monster sized weapon. He didn't even notice as footsteps made their way towards him.
"Geez kiddo. That doesn't look comfortable." Wolfwood should have been insulted at being called "kiddo". Maybe he should have given the guy a piece of his mind too! Yet, he didn't. Correction! He couldn't. Not when he knew exactly who that voice belonged to. It could have been millions of years in the future and that voice would still be etched within his brain.
"I mean, unless you really want a weird tan line! If that's the case then don't let me stop you!" That laughter too. It was almost as if no time had passed at all. Quickly, Nicholas’s head snapped to the side. He just needed to see if it was really him. That this wasn't some fucked up dream meant to torture him further.
A gasp escaped Wolfwood at the sight of none other than Vash The Stampede! Same red coat, gaudy sunglasses, and….black hair? Wait, since when did he dye his hair!?
“Since when did you have black hair, Spikey!?” The moment the words left he mouth Wolfwood wanted to puke. That was not his voice! His voice was deep, raspy, and (he would like to believe) sexy! Not whatever this squeaky toy monstrosity was! As he clawed at his own throat Wolfwood neglected to keep an eye on the other man.
Vash just stared at him. Blue green eyes swimming with confusion as he watched the chaotic scene unfold. Whatever was going on within his mind was a mystery, but after a few seconds something about him softened. A small smile appeared on his face as he slowly crouched down so they would be eye to eye. Wait, has Vash always been that tall?
“Look, buddy, you gave the nice ladies here at the orphanage quite the shock. How about we go inside, and you can apologize to them. I bet we can even get you some clothes, and a snack.” Vash spoke as though he was talking to a baby! And what was with the nickname!? He wasn't anyone's “buddy”, nor did he need to be treated with kid gloves! Quickly Wolfwood’s anger reached a boiling point.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Vash!? Are you doing this to mess with me!?” Strength was slowly returning to Wolfwood’s body, and soon he was able to at least pull himself up into a sitting position. Dark eyes meeting blue as he glared daggers at the other man. “Stop wearing that dumb expression.” He muttered out, looking over the idiot's gobsmacked face as he did so.
Vash looked as though someone had just slapped him with a brick. His jaw dropped as he looked between Wolfwood, The Punisher, and then back at Wolfwood as though the man just appeared out of thin air. Then, like a fish out of water, he sputtered.
“W-Wolfwood?” Something had clicked within those blue eyes, sparkling with an emotion that Nicholas couldn't quite pinpoint. Then, it hit him. That was hope deep within those irises. Vash was holding his breath, waiting for the answer that was to come as though it was life or death. Why, Wolfwood didn't know.
“Yeah? Who else would I be?” At this point he had grown a little used to his weird voice. It did make him want to bang his hand against The Punisher, but at the same time he chalked it all up to being in his head. Maybe he was having some weird delusions that made everything turn topsy turvy.
Vash on the other hand gasped in shock. The breath he was holding now released as his already pale features turned ghost white. He opened his mouth a few times, struggling to find the words to say next. It seemed like he wanted to say something grand and important, but instead he could only mutter a simple phrase.
“I can't believe this…” Those blue eyes continued to stare at Wolfwood as though he was the world's biggest mystery. Almost as if they were waiting for him to disappear.
“What!? You don't recognize me!?” Wolfwood was starting to lose patience. There was no need for crazy theatrics! He was here, somehow, and now all he needed was to chug a bottle of whiskey before he lost his mind! God, he could go for a cigarette right now too.
“Um, Wolfwood?” Vash sounded so unsure as he said his name, fidgeting slightly as he scooted closer to him. Wait, how was he taller than him even sitting down? “Have you looked at yourself? I don't mean to make you panic but…” The man was so sheepish, eyes fluttering over his form before staring right into Wolfwood’s eyes.
Look at himself? Nicholas scoffed under his breath. What in the world was the idiot talking about? He decided to humor him, eyes trailing down to his form as confidence took the wheel. He was determined to prove Vash, and a little bit of himself, wrong! Except, that didn't happen. As the moment he caught sight of his body his veins were filled with frigid ice.
He didn't see his long limbs, toned muscles, and scarred skin. No. This wasn't right! This wasn't his body! A tiny little baby hand was now in front of his gaze, moving and wiggling as he willed it to do so. Wolfwood desperately wished it didn't mirror his thoughts, at least then he could pretend this was just a giant joke. In a panic he grabbed at the chubby skin around his stomach, moving down to his thighs and then finally gripping the tiny toes that were attached to tiny feet.
“What did you do to me?” It was the only thing he could think of. Who else could have done this to him? It certainly wasn't Wolfwood who decided to turn himself into a literal toddler! So the fucking alien was his best guess! In a panic he threw himself to his feet, wobbling slightly before he quickly found his footing.
“Turn me back! Turn me back right now!” He was angry, but there was also desperation laced within his tone. The weight of his situation grew heavier by the second as reality sunk in. His panic only grew as Vash continued to loom over him. Wolfwood standing didn't do anything to close the height gap that now existed between them. Even The Punisher was taller than him, and that alone made him want to curl up and die.
“M-Me!? What makes you think I did this?” The plant pointed to himself. A dumbfounded expression on his face as he blinked stupidly. It was enough to send Wolfwood over the edge.
All of the sudden he lunged, grabbing at Vash’s coat in his own attempt to fight back. He pulled, kicked, and yelled, but none of it seemed to even mildly inconvenience the man. Instead he continued to stare down at him, pity laced within those loving eyes. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, and Wolfwood wished that wasn't the case here.
“Stop looking at me like that!” As though he was the child he looked like Wolfwood stomped his foot. “It must be you! Who else could have done this!” He motioned back to his form, a shiver running up his spine as he was forced to look at his now naked toddler body.
He wasn't sure if his uncomfortable nature was obvious or not, but Vash picked up on it anyway. The man quickly scooted his way forward until he was side by side with Wolfwood. An arm snaking its way around the toddler's shoulders until he was pulled into a haphazard hug.
“Yeah, I don't know what happened.” That didn't help the pit of fear in Wolfwood’s stomach at all. “But I'm sure we can figure something out! Though you make a pretty cute pipsqueak if I say so myself!” He laughed, obviously enjoying how he was able to tease his old friend. Wolfwood just landed a punch to the man’s chest, but it only made Vash laugh harder.
“Oh no! So strong! I surrender!” Vash dramatically fell over, allowing his pitch black hair to flow over the bleached sand. His jester-like chuckles quickly became infectious as Wolfwood's panic melted away in favor of annoyance.
“That's not funny.” He truly didn't see it as hilarious, but Vash making a fool of himself always provided some entertainment. Even if it was at his expense.
“No? Well, it did help calm you down. Right?” Wolfwood could stare at the man dumbly. As much as he wanted to say otherwise his weird tactic did in fact work in some way. He wasn't panicking, but he was still pretty pissed off.
“Well, good! Cause we can't figure things out if you are freaking out.” Vash didn't wait for him to respond, sighing in almost relief as he spoke. All of the sudden he began to work at unbuttoning the withering jacket that sat on his form, removing it as Wolfwood could only watch with confusion. He then held it up, moving it towards the small boy(?) as though any quick movement would scare him. Wolfwood just jumped away from him.
“What are you doing!?” He hissed, sounding more like a feisty kitten than an actual threat. Vash in response just motioned towards Wolfwood’s naked form.
“Well, you need some type of clothing. Can't have you waltzing into the Orphanage naked.” Orphanage? Wolfwood’s head snapped behind him, taking in the familiar building that held so many memories. He never thought they would see it again, yet here they are. Were they ok after his death? It was still standing so he supposed so, but without Wolfwood sending money back how did they stay afloat?
With Wolfwood lost in his thoughts Vash took his chance, pouncing at the child so he could wrap him in the thick fabric of his coat. The now child tried to fight back, but no amount of kicking and biting was enough to take down the alien man. And in the end he was comfortably cocooned like a swaddled baby.
“Put me down! I swear to god I'll kill you when I'm back to normal!” Wolfwood wasn't sure if his weakness was from his previous transformation, or his baby body. Either way he hated it! He wasn't actually a child, so Vash being determined to treat him like one made no sense! Once again he attempted to wiggle free, but now that he was settled into the man’s arms it was hopeless.
“Yeah yeah kill me later.” He wasn't even granted a full response. Instead being brushed away like a needy dog. Yeah, Wolfwood truly wished he was actually in hell. Because this was way worse than any torture that purgatory could have thrown at him.
Finally giving up he plopped his head against Vash’s shoulder, refusing to even look up as he felt them begin to move. Yes, he was tired. But there was also a heaviness deep within his heart that he couldn't shake. It was almost like a dark premonition. Something wasn't right, but what that was remains a mystery. He tried to not let it bother him. What was most important after all was getting his grown body back.
Wolfwood rubbed his face deeper into the thick fabric of Vash’s shirt, shooing away emotions that threatened to crawl back up. He wasn't going to be stuck like this, right? It wasn't as if he could just grow up again. That would be insane. Absolutely insane.