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Vash woke up with a start.
At first he couldn’t discern exactly what woke him up. Instinctively, he assumed it had something to do with the cradle at the end of the bed, and the fussy little lady who decided she’d much rather be nocturnal at the most inopportune of moments. That was why he was always waking up these days, so he automatically sat up on the bed, yawning and eyes still struggling to open through the crust around them.
But no, the room was silent. No cries of a disgruntled baby to be heard.
Vash’s eyes popped open.
The room was never silent.
Quiet, maybe, but never silent. There was always some sort of noise. The baby shifting as she slept, Wolfwood snoring despite swearing he didn’t, signs of life.
The cradle was empty. And so too was the other side of the bed.
Vash bolted out the bedroom door in record speed.
Now, realistically, he understood probably nothing had gone wrong. If something was wrong, Wolfwood would’ve woken him up. And it was physically impossible for someone to, what, break in, steal baby Olivia and Wolfwood, and not cause a scene? Or wake Vash up? He slept incredibly light—deeper, these days, though. Partially due to, for once in his life, finally feeling just a little safer, and partially because babies required so much energy that the only time Vash had been more exhausted was during that eight-month-long torture chamber session. Which was something he did not share out loud with Wolfwood, for obvious reasons.
Realistically, there was no reason to immediately panic. Vash, however, was not realistic. He was tired, his nerves running like a live wire. All his stupid Plant-instincts were telling him was that his daughter and mate were gone and he didn’t know where.
Vash tore through the hallway, breathing fast and knowing already his flesh hand was curling into serrated claws. They were gone, and he needed them back, he couldn’t—they were too—
His hand gripped the edge of the wall, turning into the living room and—he stopped. Eyes moving faster than the rest of him, frozen as he took in the sight.
Just as realistically suspected, they were fine. Wolfwood was right there, walking slowly back-and-forth across the living room of that old house they finally got for themselves, holding Olivia in his arms as he bounced her slightly. He was still in his sweatpants, shirtless because he tended to sleep that way, as Olivia’s head rested on his shoulder and she babbled away.
“Really?” Wolfwood hummed, voice heavy with exhaustion, but attentive all the same. “Is that right?” Olivia babbled again, her little fists batting over Wolfwood. “Oh, that so? And then what happened?”
Vash slowly released the wall, unaware of the light dent he’d made in it. The monstrous parts of him faded away, relaxing as he finally processed the sight: Olivia, awake at the worst hour because she always was, and Wolfwood, talking to her nonsense like they were having just the most riveting conversation.
Olivia squealed a little, and Wolfwood was quick to shush her, bouncing her a little higher and humming. “Fascinating. So much has been happenin’ t’ya, huh?” Olivia giggled, and he snorted a little himself, turning his head to rest his cheek against her. “And then what?”
He punctuated it with a tiny ‘drop’ in his bouncing. Olivia giggled again, and Wolfwood smiled, hand rubbing circles over her back. It wasn’t doing much to put her to sleep, but it seemed he couldn’t help himself. Vash could relate.
Slowly, Vash leaned against the wall, watching the two of them. His terror was replaced instead with an all-consuming fondness, threatening to beat out of his very chest. He could remember only a couple months ago when Wolfwood had been scared to so much as touch her, afraid he’d somehow ruin and break this tiny, delicate thing he helped make. Vash really couldn’t understand how he could’ve believed such a thing. He was more of a natural than Vash ever was.
“Oh that just sounds so rough,” Wolfwood rumbled, walking down the other length of the living room, “I don’t know how you do it.” He looked down at Olivia as she gabbled some high sound. “Yeah, you’re just always so busy, aren’t cha?”
When he started to raise his head again, he stopped. The bouncing, his walking, everything. This was because he finally spotted Vash leaning on the corner, eyes briefly meeting.
“Spikes,” He blinked, then winced, “thought you were still sleepin’.”
“I was,” Vash pushed off the corner as Wolfwood continued rubbing circles when Olivia began to squirm again.
“Sorry,” Wolfwood murmured when Vash was close enough to nearly knock their foreheads together, “she started fussin’, n’ I didn’t wanna wake you, so…”
Oh, Vash’s heart could’ve burst like a balloon. “Thank you.” He said all the same, thumbing over Olivia’s cheek and making her wiggle and smile. “You causing trouble for dad there, Olive?”
“We were havin’ a very intellectual conversation.” Wolfwood sniffed, cracking a smile halfway through it that Vash mirrored. Then it faltered, taking his hand off Olivia’s back to cradle her in just one arm, drifting his fingers to push some hair out of Vash’s face. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
Ah. Seemed it hadn’t fully left Vash’s features. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.
The last couple of months had been—rough. Olivia’s birth had been…a traumatic one, thanks to her arriving earlier than expected and in the midst of a fight. The two of them had split up to meet back up later before she decided she was going to make an entrance, leaving Vash alone for the first half of labor out in the middle of the sands, crying out into the darkened sky.
Wolfwood showed up eventually, thank God, but it had only helped so much. Vash barely had any coherent memories in the aftermath. Had to be told that he had snarled and snapped at even Milly and Meryl when they finally arrived and rushed them back to the remains of Home for the doctors to look at. Had been growling at anyone who came close to his daughter, clutched tight in his arms and wailing. Even Wolfwood got snapped at, though it was only just the once.
He’d been keyed up ever since. Anxious and flighty whenever Olivia wasn’t in his sight, and even then it was only slightly better. He’d caught himself tensing and a subtle electric hum in the air when anyone other than Wolfwood came close to his daughter, and he hated himself for it. He was around friends. Friends he trusted. They wouldn’t take her. Hurt her. Quite the opposite.
He knew Wolfwood wanted him to talk to Luida about it with the doctors at home. Knew Milly and Meryl wanted it for him, too. But how could he? If something was—was actually wrong with him then he—then he. Was wrong for this. Then there was yet another part of him that had broken, that would linger and who knew if it would go away? Another proof he wasn’t…built for something like this—
“Hey,” Wolfwood’s hand settled over his cheek, “we’re okay.”
“I know,” Vash sighed, eyes slipping closed, “I know. I’m sorry, I—”
“S’fine,” Wolfwood shifted when Olivia hit her little fist over him again, “just wanted you to get some sleep for once.”
Olivia did have a nursery. One she should really be in, letting them sleep easier. The whole reason the crib sat at the end of the bed for this long was because of Vash and his stupid anxieties. Anxieties that Wolfwood was being far, far too patient about. Anxieties that he really shouldn’t be putting up with because he was doing a much better job at looking after their daughter than Vash’s stupid paranoid self was—
He yelped when he felt a pinch over his cheek.
“Oi,” Wolfwood scolded, letting his hand fall when Vash batted it away, “get outta yer head.”
Vash grumbled, rubbing at his cheek. He dropped his focus back to Olivia, who was making a grabby hand towards him. He was quick to bring his finger up so she could curl her hand around it, and—despite it all, he smiled, nearly chest-to-chest with Wolfwood as he dipped his head to knock it lightly against the crown of hers, as she babbled away and reached for him.
Oh, he thought he might melt out of his ribs entirely. Maybe he thought he wasn’t the right person for this, to have a daughter like her, but he was so, so glad she existed at all. In a world that was doing a little better because he made it so, a world where humanity finally had a chance.
“Thank you,” He repeated instead, closing his eyes.
“I feel like this is the bare minimum,” Wolfwood snorted, a motion he felt in how Olivia jolted a little and laughed with it, “but sure, I’ll take it.”
“You do a lot more than the bare minimum.” Vash insisted, cracking open his eyes to see tiny glowing lines forming over Olivia. He chuckled, mirroring the lights on his head and where she still grabbed his finger, linking a quiet connection.
“Oh, and now you’re havin’ a secret conversation without me?” Wolfwood scoffed. “Fine, I see how it is.”
“Again, that’s not how it works.” Vash chuckled.
It wasn’t like his connection with his sisters, where he had to get used to oneness and wholeness. No barriers existed in that sort of connection, and normally he was okay with that. Though it did get embarrassing when his sisters would casually pick apart his more intimate moments, because Plants had no concept of modesty or embarrassment. At least they approved of Wolfwood?
With Olivia, it was more like an emotional tap-in, no doubt due to her being half-human. Nothing coherent, just a general feeling. So he tried to offer waves of safe, content, sleep, and instead got back a general babble of emotion. Babies were still figuring those out, so the confusion was understandable.
Sire was a feeling he picked out in there, though. He couldn’t really describe what it felt like, just that he knew it was Wolfwood-related. He smiled a little, clinging onto that feeling and knowing he instinctively sent in pulses of love, ones that Olivia repeated in a feedback loop.
“She loves you,” Vash informed, still watching his daughter and how her little face scrunched in concentration.
“Oh, Christ,” Wolfwood muttered, head turning away (at least from what Vash could see out of the corner of his eye), “y’all needed to pop into the secret mind-tap just for that?”
“I wish you could feel it.” Vash murmured, slowly moving his head off of Olivia to instead kiss between her eyes. “It nearly knocks me off my feet some days.”
“Don’t say that,” Wolfwood croaked, and Vash flicked his eyes up to see Wolfwood pointedly staring away from them, throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Oh, sweet Wolfwood. They were both better at it, living in a world that allowed them to learn to be affectionate without fear of repercussions, but it wasn’t easy. The ring that rested on Wolfwood’s finger was proof enough of how he tried. Sometimes, though, he still turned away.
Vash didn’t mind. It meant he got to cup Wolfwood’s cheek and turn him back around, where he was visibly straining to get a hold of himself, and smile into kissing him.
“We love you,” He mumbled against Wolfwood’s lips, which wasn’t any easier for him to say than it was for Wolfwood to hear it, but he pushed through anyway. He made him put up with so much, this was the least he could do, “it turns into an echo chamber sometimes.”
“Vash,” He rasped, voice cracking.
He slowly untangled his finger from Olivia when the flood of emotions started to get too strong, even for him. She was happy that Vash was happy, and thus making Wolfwood happy, and it was starting to spiral. She let it happen, head laying on Wolfwood’s shoulder as she was held between the two of them. Vash hoped she’d know she was the safest kid on the whole planet. Not just feel it, but understand it.
Wolfwood broke the kiss first, chest stuttering for air. Vash slotted their noses together, half-lidded eyes watching as Wolfwood visibly swallowed around struggling to reign in his emotions. It was late, they were already wrung-dry just from that alone.
“You take such good care of her,” Vash breathed against his lips, scarcely an inch apart, “and me. Anyone would think you’d done this before, had more than just one kid. Makes me wonder sometimes.” He teased.
“Enough,” Wolfwood croaked, eyes cracking open, even as he was smiling at the corners, “unless that’s a proposition.”
“Not in front of the baby.” Vash scoffed, leaning back a few more inches.
“That’s not a no.” Wolfwood leaned back in, because he was a bastard who knew how to quickly change the tides.
“Don’t blame me, look at you.” Vash huffed, curling his one arm around Wolfwood’s shoulder to hook over the back of his neck.
“This is sexy to you?” Wolfwood snorted, raising a brow.
“Well, when someone’s such a good father,” Vash played with Wolfwood’s hair, trying to regain a little footing by putting on an air of nonchalance, “can’t blame a guy for wanting another baby in him.”
“Yeah?” Damnit, it didn’t work, Wolfwood breathing against his lips again. “Bet you’d love that. Till you can’t remember a time you weren't heavy.”
“Jesus,” Vash swore, and this time he was the one who turned his head away. He felt an airy chuckle against his neck and slapped at his back. “The baby, Wolfwood.”
“You started it.” Wolfwood huffed, leaning back and looking down. And then immediately went still.
Vash panicked, jerking his focus—oh, no, never mind. Olivia had her head nestled against Wolfwood’s shoulder and was finally, blissfully, asleep. Knocked out like a light, her tiny back rising and falling with each breath.
Wolfwood’s eyes darted to Vash’s. They stared at one another for a few moments. Then slowly, as if walking around a bomb, pried away from each other and tiptoed around the living room. Vash darted ahead of Wolfwood and back down the hallway to make sure the bedroom door was open enough and wouldn’t squeak, Wolfwood walking like there were eggshells strewn about the floor.
They hastily gestured to each other with barely-audible whispers and movements as they finally crept inside the bedroom. Wolfwood held his breath as he slooooowly took Olivia off his shoulder, cradling her so incredibly gently as he attempted to transplant her from him and into the cradle.
She stirred once, making both of them freeze up. Then she settled again, and Wolfwood gingerly placed her in the cradle, then stepped back, hands up.
No one moved. They didn’t dare breathe.
After a few moments, it was clear the transplant was a success. They let out heavy (and silent!) breaths of relief, slumping into each other.
“You sure you don’t want the couch?” Wolfwood whispered into Vash’s ear. “Don’t gotta be so quiet there.”
Vash’s frame tensed at the mere thought of being in a different room from Olivia. And then immediately mentally berated himself for it. The door would be open, they’d know if something happened. And nothing was going to happen. He knew this. He knew nothing was going to happen, it—
“S’fine,” Wolfwood’s hand slowly rubbed at Vash’s shoulder, before it tapered off to his stump, “never mind.”
“Sorry,” Vash whispered, looking away, gaze solely on Olivia in her cradle.
“Mm,” Wolfwood rubbed lower down his stump, then kissed at the base of his neck, “broody mama.”
Vash shouldered him slightly. He knew Wolfwood was keeping it light for his sake, because now certainly wasn’t the time to get into it. Vash being an emotional wreck over something as simple as this. Because he just couldn’t get it together and be a functioning parent, hell, he could barely function as a person—
Wolfwood’s hand came up to his back. He eased Vash towards the bed, setting him down before he came around the other side and pulled back the sheets. Vash wiggled under them, both moving slowly to curl back up on their pillows. He dared not look at the clock to see what time it was.
But he reached out, where Wolfwood’s hand was starting to push under the pillow. He stopped, letting Vash’s fingers trail over the ring settled on his hand. His own ring was welded into his metal arm, set aside for the night. Sometimes he still wanted to sleep with it on, just for moments like this.
“Hey,” Wolfwood murmured, barely a breath, but Vash looked up at him all the same. Oh, those kind eyes made his chest ache. “You’re a good dad too, ‘ight?”
Vash shut his eyes tight to fight how his throat burned. He sucked in a shaky breath, hand tightening over Wolfwood’s. His hand was lifted, the back of it kissed before Wolfwood drew him in, arm coming around as Vash mushed his face into his neck, hiding how his breaths tightened and stuttered.
Wolfwood rubbed circles over his back, not unlike how he’d done for little Olive, chin hooked over Vash’s head. It was a little awkward, Vash was taller than Wolfwood and thus was scooted down quite a way to make this position work, but he didn’t mind. He fought back the cries that threatened him, because he was not waking the kid right now.
He pressed his face into Wolfwood’s skin, shakily inhaled, then tipped upwards to murmur close to his ear, “I’ll—” He swallowed, “I’ll talk to Luida.”
“Yeah?” Wolfwood had definitely pricked an ear, but was doing a decent job at hiding it.
“If it’s…” Vash needed a minute to breathe, “if it really is something…”
“Then we’ll just do what we can.” Wolfwood assured, squeezing his hand tighter. “You ain’t the first with this, you won’t be the last.”
“There’s a lot of poor parents in the world.” Vash mumbled.
“Of which you are not.” Wolfwood growled quietly. “Ain’t nothin’ bad ‘bout yer parentin’, Tongari, I’m just worried ‘bout you.”
Oh. That—that was—
Vash sniffled, turning and chomping his teeth into Wolfwood’s neck before he did something else rash. He didn’t break the skin, just—just needed to do something, lest he let a sob escape and ruin the rest of their night.
Olivia had taken up their whole world, everyone's attention ever since she was born, and he was glad for that! He was! She was his world. She and Wolfwood both, their friends, acting as the planets that orbited around them and made up the solar system that was his bedraggled, terribly long life. Everything he stressed about involved his Olive, how he could just…do better, be better for her.
“Easy, angel,” Wolfwood murmured, barely flinching under the bite and holding so, so close, “you’ll be alright.”
Vash choked back a sound that wanted to escape. It really shouldn’t be any kind of revelation to him. It wasn’t, really, he’d just—forgotten, he supposed. In the wake of something so monumental, it was easy to forget he was…someone outside of this. Someone that Wolfwood thought of separately, that everything he worried about was different from Olivia, unrelated and personal.
“I love you,” He choked, muffled between the skin under his teeth, “m’sorry.”
“I know,” Wolfwood pressed his mouth into his hair, chest hitching only a little, “don’t you apologize.” He laid a kiss to the crown of his head. “Love you, Tongari.”
It was spoken much quieter, rougher at the edges. They always meant it and they always had to fight the chains around their throats just to say it. They loosened a little every time, and Vash ached for the day they’d finally rip them off.
He had all his tomorrows to find that day, though. To finally talk to Luida and…try. He had all of Wolfwood’s tomorrows, here despite the odds. Here by some miracle his sisters had blessed him with, as thanks for all he’d done. He wasn’t sure if he deserved it, but he wanted to be. Wanted to be worth that which brought Wolfwood back and gave them their daughter.
Vash finally unlatched his teeth. He kissed over the marks and bruise as an apology, settling his head in the crook of Wolfwood’s neck. He was so, so tired. And he’d probably wake up tired, too.
And yet, he’d wake up the happiest he’d ever been in a hundred and fifty years. So he’d thank his blessings for that exhaustion, and he’d try to believe he was something worth being worried over. Something that could be granted the mercy of help. If he couldn’t do it for himself, he’d do it for the family he carved out of the ground with his own bleeding hands.
The room wasn’t silent anymore. It was filled with Wolfwood’s chest expanding with every breath, with the tiny squirms of their baby in her cradle. It was subtle, soft, and it lulled Vash to an easy, gentle sleep.a