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Vash is not sick. He hasn’t been sick in…forever really. Or ever. Plants just don’t get sick. Period. He has never heard of such a thing during his work with the plants when he was still involved. Unless you count them dying but that’s not the same as being sick. At least not how he would describe it.
And he has seen humans sick and dying and dying because of being sick.
So yeah he knows. He knows what that looks like. And it’s not that.
So no he’s not sick.
He’s just feeling…off. His gait is swayed, he knows that but he also knows it’s not enough for some random onlooker to notice. Not that it matters anyway if someone notices.
He feels hot around the collar.
That’s fine, it's the desert after all. He can take the heat but maybe he has been more fatigued than he thought. Usually he can endure it better than that. He barely breaks a sweat.
Usually.
He’s pretty sweaty now though.
But he’s not sick.
It’s not that. He’s fine.
Well Wolfwood disagrees at least.
After another pit stop and a bathroom break he takes a critical look at him over the rim of his dark, sunglasses before he pushes them up his nose and asks:
“Are ya sick or something?”
Vash pauses mid-step for a split second but it is enough for Wolfwood to be convinced in his suspicions.
And he’s not a random onlooker either so deceiving him is always way harder. Not impossible but harder.
This time though…
“Okay, we’re taking a break.”
Vash protests, says he is okay to go a little more but Nick shakes his head and kickstarts the bike.
“Shut up. I need rest too, so get your ass in.”
Vash sighs and rolls his eyes, maybe a bit exaggeratedly, but gets into the sidecar as asked.
The thing is…Nick isn’t wrong but he isn’t right either. Vash can feel something coming. He can taste the metallic pang on the tip of his tongue when he runs it over his teeth.
A thought flashes in his mind but he dismisses it. It can’t be. Not yet. They still had a few months to go for that to happen again.
He was fine.
He chucks the way sweat beads on his forehead and the slight tremors in his hands as just heat exhaustion.
Yeah. That’s all that is. Once they would find a motel and could rest in some shade it would be fine.
“A double for a week?”
The receptionist, a short, stocky old man with a frown that looks like it has etched itself onto his face perpetually, gives them a once over, his personal displeasure more than apparent on his face.
Nick hoists The Punisher and gives the man a look which all but screams ‘go on, say something’.
The man doesn’t of course. Nick can be imposing when he wants, friendly when it suits him and unassuming and invisible when it benefits him.
Not for the first time Vash feels a pang of something when he notices the similarities between them. He wouldn’t say they were birds of a feather but there certainly is a link that Vash sometimes finds himself tempted to yank on and see how the yarn would unravel.
He doesn’t of course. He didn’t dare.
The man turns to the little pigeonholes to pick up a key when Vash speaks up.
“Wait.”
The receptionist and Wolfwood both look at him.
“Make that ten days.” He licks his dry lips.
“You sure?”
Vash hesitates for a moment. He gives Wolfwood a glance before nodding at the receptionist.
“Okay, make it ten days.” Wolfwood confirms and shrugs. They have the money to spare. For now at least.
“Ah and,” the man is now openly annoyed when Vash speaks for a second time and delays the moment they both can get out of his sight. “Two singles. Please.”
“Two singles?”
Nick sets The Punisher against the nearest wall and pats himself in search for his cigs.
“Mm.” Vash hums, rummaging in his bag for his toiletries and sleep clothes.
he hears the familiar soft click of a lighter and then one, long exhale. Vash’s nose scrunches when he feels the tobacco and wam venom his nostrils. Odd. He usually doesn’t bat an eye at the smell. It’s not the nicest thing but it never bothered Vash. It even became a sort of comforting one along the way.
Now though, it kind of irritates him. He must really be fatigued then.
“Just wanted some privacy.”
Wolfwood drops onto the other bed, the old springs groaning under his weight.
“We have been sleeping in the same bed for months and now you want privacy?”
Vash pursues his lips, looking through his things.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Wolfwood doesn’t respond right away.
“I guess not but if you’re worried about the old man manning the front desk calling you a pansy or something don’t. He won’t dare.”
Vash sighs as he turns to look at Wolfwood.
“I’m not. It’s not related to that.”
Wolfwood raises an eyebrow.
“So you are sick.”
“I am not.” He protests, his irritation letting itself known.
“Bullshit.”
Vash rolls his eyes and opts not to grace this with an answer.
“I’m showering first,” he announces and slips into the dingy bathroom before Wolfwood can protest.
He groans in relief when lukewarm water beats against his overheated skin.
Normally he’d take a hot shower and let Wolfwood bitch at him for using all the hot water but he doesn’t feel like he wants to endure more heat.
Vash leans his forehead against the wet and cold tile and hums, nuzzling his head there, feeling how actually flushed he is right now.
He keeps protesting that he is not sick and he knows he’s not but maybe he is not fully fine.
He asked for two singles so he wouldn’t be disturbing Wolfwood in case…something happens.
Vash’s eyes snap open suddenly.
Something.
He stands up and cuts the water off.
He thought they had more time but maybe…
Vash looks down on himself and concentrates, trying to understand.
Then he frowns.
If this is what he’s thinking then it seems different this time.
Vash steps out of the shower and dries off in a towel. He is lost in thoughts when he steps out of the bathroom and only hums when Wolfwood says something along the lines of I hope ya didn’t use all the hot water.
Minutes later Vash is snapped out of his thoughts with a loud yell and string of curses.
He frowns before his brain catches up.
“Sorry!” He yells back but is only met with more angry curses and a fuck you.
He forgot to set the water to warm after his own shower.
He can’t help but giggle a little.
Oh well.
They barely spoke to each other before sleep, each engrossed in their own bedtime routine.
Vash can feel it coming even more now that he is resting in his single bed, under cool and thin sheets. They feel stuffy and suffocating, so he keeps throwing them off and then grabbing them back when he feels a tremor and shiver run down his spine.
Hot and cold flashes now. Not good.
He can see the outline of his companion under his own covers on the other side of the room.
Wolfwood tosses for a moment, turns and sighs before he settles on his side, facing Vash.
“You okay?” He asks finally, and Vash can hear the underline of worry in that one question.
He takes his time answering, running his tongue over his teeth again - the metallic taste even more pronounced now.
He bites his lip and then sucks it into his mouth before releasing it with a wet smack.
“I’m fine.”
He can feel Wolfwood’s eyes on him, watching him intently. It’s obvious that he’s not buying it, and Vash has taken too long to reply.
“Alright.” For whatever reason, though, Wolfwood doesn’t press for more. Maybe he is also as tired as Vash feels and simply isn’t in the mood to start an argument.
Vash is thankful for that.
“Goodnight then,” Wolfwood mutters once he turns under the covers, his back to Vash.
“Night,” he murmurs back, eyes drooping and falling into dreamless sleep.
Vash wakes up feverish and trembling.
A gasp leaves his throat when sharp pain pierces his abdomen making him curl himself into a ball with a pained whine.
After a minute the pain subsides a little but the ache is still there. Vash wheezes and realizes he’s parched and needs water but his canteen is on the table in the middle of the room and not on the bedside table as he thought he put it there last night.
He kicks or rather tries to kick the blanket off him, now tangled in his legs and all but pushed to the foot of the bed, but his limbs are all heavy and uncoordinated and he only manages to tangle himself even more in it.
With a frustrated noise he sits up, and groans when a bout of vertigo hits him and makes him nauseous.
When he tries to stand up clumsily, his legs are still tangled in the blanket as well as the sheets and he tumbles to the hard, wooden floor with a surprised yell.
He whined pathetically, trying to pull himself up but his arms gave up.
Suddenly someone hoists him up under his armpits and then he’s deposited back onto the bed.
“‘Fine’ my ass.” Wolfwood grumbles next to him, untangling the blanket from his legs, spreading it out and covering him again.
Vash whines when he is tucked in. He knows Wolfwood’s touch is gentle and careful and yet it still hurts as if he was taking lashes and he couldn’t help but curl away from it.
Nick pauses, hovering over Vash.
“What’s wrong?”
Vash cracks one eye open but he only sees a vaguely Wolfwood-shaped blur.
“Do you have Plant flu?” He tries joking but Vash is very much not in the mood.
Gentle hand touches his burning forehead and he whines in pain so the hand withdraws immediately.
He wants to snark back at his companion but he can’t muster that much effort.
It takes him a long moment before he is able to form words, his voice croaking from dehydration.
“I’m in heat.”
“Wha…” Nick blinks, his hands hovering uselessly above Vash. “What?”
Vash closes his eyes and whimpers.
“Water,” he wheezes. “Water, please.”
He hears more than sees Nick basically ran to the table and left his side after a moment of wordless consternation.
“Here.” He feels the cool touch of the canteen against his mouth and then his head is lifted a little, supported by a wide palm at the back of his head.
He drinks in greedy sips until it becomes too much he has to wave it off, nausea replacing his quelled now thirst.
“Yeah,” he wheezes once Nick sets him back against the flimsy pillow. “Heat.”
“Oh uh um.” Nick shifts to sit on his hunches by Vash’s bed.
He can finally open his eyes and his vision thankfully is focused enough so he doesn’t just see blurry blobs of color and shape that make him dizzy and nauseous.
“Do you like need the usual or-?”
Vash can’t help but laugh weakly even if it makes little spikes of sharp pain pierce him in the abdomen. He shakes his head.
“Sorry but the idea is just…not appealing right now.”
Wolfwood deflates a little at his words and then looks away, shame briefly flashes across his face.
“Oh…okay.”
Despite the discomfort Vash has to giggle even if it makes him wince.
“Pervert.”
Wolfwood whips his head back to look at him with a frown blushing up to his roots.
“Who are you calling a pervert!?”He sputters.
Vash flashes him a weak and tired but no less amused grin.
“Sorry, just…you sounded kind of disappointed. And I thought it was funny.”
“I mean!” He scoffs, not really knowing what to say and unable to outright deny the ‘accusation’ either.'
“It’s okay I get it.” Vash reaches out and weakly pats his arm, trying to be comforting even though he’s in pain himself. “I would also prefer the…the other type. It’s quite fun, right? Especially when you have someone to spend it with.”
Wolfwood’s mouth opens, probably to scold him again but he misses his chance because another sharp bout of pain shoots through his stomach and he grunts, curling into himself on instinct.
“Shit,” Wolfwood curses, shuffling on his knees.
This time when Vash feels a hand on his forehead it doesn’t hurt as much and he whines, angling his head into the touch.
“Sorry to disappoint this time though,” he mumbles. His lips are chapped and dry and tries to wet them with his tongue.
“Oh be quiet,” Nick grumbles and brings his canteen back to his mouth. Vash drinks greedily until he chokes and the canteen is taken away.
Then everything is a little blurry, but he knows Wolfwood leaves for a moment (it feels long and tense and Vash wants to call after him but he only manages a weak groan). He hears a hum (of water probably) and then that hand is back, brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead.
“Don’t waste water on me,” he manages weakly when he finally realizes Wolfwood is delicately wiping his face and neck and even a little bit of his chest with a cool washcloth.
“I said be quiet.” Vash hears a soft splash and then water trickling. “Right now you’re weak as a new hatched thoma and the only thing being wasted is whatever strength you have on saying stupid shit. So be quiet.”
Vash’s mouth twitches.
“The hell are you grinning for?”
“No reason,” Vash murmurs, humming when Wolfwood’s hand comes back to feel his forehead and cheeks and then lifts his head up to wipe the sweat accumulated at the back of his neck.
Vash sighs in relief, feeling tears in the corner of his eyes.
After that he falls in and out of a delirious daze but every time he comes to, Wolfwood is there, pressing cool compress to his skin and making him drink water every time he asks for it. And even when he doesn’t.
The pain doesn’t leave him, it just dulls a little when he’s being cooled down but comes back quickly and it feels sharper every time when the downtime passes.
Vash whines and writhes, face flushed and twisted in pain as he mumbles nonsense.
Nick tries to feed him some bread at one point but Vash almost vomits so he doesn’t try again, and only opts for wiping him down and pressing a cool compress to his skin.
There’s not much else he can do and when Vash doesn’t have an averse reaction to his touch he ends up petting his sweaty hair in apology when he thinks Vash is out and can’t hear his frantic murmurs.
Sometimes when he comes to he hears the quiet whisper of a prayer. He feels too weak to even turn his head towards the source but when he drifts off again with a sigh, the words follow him for a bit, offering some comfort.
Hours and possibly days pass in a blur, shrouded in a haze filled with pain, feverish half dreams and faraway, incomprehensible ravings.
Vash blinks a few times, his vision is the clearest and sharpest it has been in the last few days.
He licks his lips, wishing his canteen was near. He’s parched but not dying of thirst and his body is not screaming for a cooldown.
He feels his own forehead with the back of his hand.
Warm. But not feverish. Yet.
“Nn.” With a groan he manages to sit up, only mild dizziness making his head throb.
He hears footsteps before he manages to react, his reflexes slowed down and dulled. He doesn’t need to see to know that Wolfwood sprung out of his own bed the moment Vash barely moved.
Then there are hands on his shoulders, pushing him down.
“Hey, hey wait. What are you doing?”
Vash shakes his head and puts a hand on Nick’s arm, stopping him from fretting too much.
“It’s okay, I'm fine.” When the dizziness subsides he looks at Wolfwood who gives him a very unconvinced look. Vash rolls his eyes and sighs, his shoulders heaving.
“I’m better.”
Wolfwood kneels next to his bed and puts a hand on his forehead and Vash really wants to pout like a petulant child.
Instead his traitorous body that seeks any form of relief leans into that touch. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but it feels nice and cool.
“You’re still burning up.” Wolfwood lets his hand slide down and cup his warm cheek, his thumb rubbing gently at his skin.
Vash hums, his eyes fluttering closed.
“That feels nice.”
“Yeah? Doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“Mhm. Not for now at least.” He lets his eyes open a fraction. Wolfwood watches him closely, still not convinced by Vash’s reassurances.
Then he drops his gaze down to where his sleep shirt’s stretched collar has slid a little, a bit of scarred skin peeking from behind the cotton.
Vash huffs before Nick can even say anything.
“I told you. Not this time.”
He bites his lip, releases, wets it a little and continues.
“I’ll make it up to you next time.”
Wolfwood rolls his eyes, his hand moving up to his forehead to brush his messy, sweaty hair from his face.
“Screw next time.”
Vash can’t help it and that grin he has been trying to suppress, spreads across his face.
Nick’s cheeks darken from a fierce blush at Vash’s amusement of his word choice.
“As I said not thi-”
“Shut up!” Wolfwood sputters and shoves him lightly. “This isn’t about me.”
He sighs and puts a hand on Vash’s chest, guiding him back, flat on the bed. Vash goes willingly this time, feeling that dizziness creeps back so laying down doesn’t sound too bad.
“I wouldn't even want to touch you when you’re barely lucid.” He picks up the thin blanket that slipped and falls to the ground when Vash was attempting to sit up and gingerly covers him with it. “Just feels wrong.”
“Is that so?” Vash muses, his vision becoming hazy again.
“Yeah.”
“Mmm.” He throws an arm over his eyes. Wolfwood shifts next to him, Vash can feel it and then he hears a quiet splash when he moves the basin filled with cool water.
Vash sighs in relief when he’s wiped down again. He just woke up but he is ready to fall back asleep. He has had a terrible night, probably one of the worst so far.
He turns his head and watches Wolfwood’s face, his eyebrows pinched in concentration and worry.
He also must have not slept for the past few nights because Vash, as heat addled brain that he is, still can see the dark shadows under his eyes and the way his suit is crumpled and hair matted.
When he hears the sound of the cloth being wrung from excess water and Nick lifts his arm so he can wipe his face he can’t help the pitiful sob.
“I’m sorry.”
He whines when the cool cloth touches his skin and brings instant if brief relief.
“Spikey?”
“I’m sorry,” he hiccups, hot tears that have been stinging the corners of his eyes for some time, now running down his cheeks in rivulets. “I’m just a burden.”
Nick puts the cloth away and cups his face in his cool, damp hands.
“Hey, look at me.” He angles Vash’s head so he can’t avoid his eyes. “You’re not. Stop that.”
It only makes Vash cry harder and Wolfwood coos softly, thumbs wiping the salty water from his face.
“You silly crybaby.”
“Wolfwood,” Vash hiccups pathetically. His hand grabs onto Wolfwood’s shirt sleeve and tugs. “It hurts.”
“I know Angel. How can I help?”
Vash gives him a devastated look.
“I don’t know.” He licks his lips and braces for another wave of pain and fever. “I’m scared.”
Wolfwood’s face crumples at his words and he presses his palm to Vash’s forehead.
“I’m here. Want me to hold you?”
Vash shakes his head.
“Everything hurts.”
Nick immediately takes his hand away.
“Sorry.” He turns and grabs Vash’s canteen.
Cooling down seems to help a little even if Vash is again writhing in pain, moaning into the sheets and occasionally into Wolfwood’s shirt when he holds him in the end.
Vash shivers, huffs and groans, almost on the verge of screaming from the agony he feels coursing through him.
It’s like his body is falling apart, every nerve on fire, every bone aches and every cell screams.
Finally around midnight Vash passes out, falling into another heavy darkness without dreams.
When he wakes just before dawn, Wolfwood is sleeping on the floor by his bed, his folded jacket used as a pillow while his actual pillow is under Vash’s head.
Vash drops his hand and tangles his fingers in matted, dark hair. He tugs at them playfully but aside from scrunching his nose Nick doesn’t wake.
Vash breathes out and falls asleep with his hand on Nick’s head and the sheets blissfully cool.
“How are you feeling?”
Vash considers the question, but before he can speak his mind Wolfwood clarifies.
“Just the truth.” He sets their breakfast on the table. Vash eyes the bread, milk and cheese. His stomach is empty and he could…should eat something but the lingering nausea at the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach renders the perfectly nice and edible food repulsive.
“Exhausted.”He finally manages to sit up by himself and rest against the combined pillows at his back.
He makes a mental note to slip Nick’s pillow back onto his own bed when he’s sleeping tonight. Or under his head if he decided to sleep on the floor again, guarding him like some kind of loyal dog.
The irony of him calling Vash angel is not lost on him.
“But.” He sighs, hands running over his face. “I think the worst is over.”
Wolfwood nods and turns around to the table. Thankfully he didn’t pick up any of the food and only his canteen. The basin of cool water and the washcloth are already prepared near his bed.
“I can do it myself now.” Vash protests when Nick kneels by his side again.
“You look like you’re about to keel over.” He wrings the washcloth and gently dabs his forehead and then cheeks, then neck and a little lower.
Vash is sore and doesn’t want to move more than he needs to so he limits himself to just his face and torso, but he’s sure that if he could Wolfwood would give him the full service of a sponge bath, protests be damned.
For now he needs to satisfy himself with only minimal dotting which is already more than he deserves.
“Why is this happening?” His voice suddenly cuts through Vash’s thoughts.
“Hm?”
“Your heat.” Nick passes him the canteen. “It’s different now. Why?”
Vash takes a long sip, mostly stalling but Wolfwood watches him intensely, waiting for an answer.
He lowers the canteen when he’s satisfied and licks his lips. They’re still chapped.
“Not sure but…I have a hypothesis.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s um.” Vash scratches his warm cheek then gestures to the entirety of himself.
“A biological clock...thing.”
Wolfwood merely raises an eyebrow.
“Which means?”
Vahs stalls for a bit, chewing on his bottom lip and avoiding Nick’s eyes. He turns his head away a little and then with a sigh mumbles one word.
“Procreation.”
There is silence for a few long seconds before Wolfwood blurts out a Huh?
“Yeah.” Vash sighs and turns back to him, apologetic and sheepish smile already on his face. “Weird right?”
Wolfwood shakes his head, dropping the washcloth to the basin and sitting on the ground, cross legged. He looks through his pockets and finally manages to fish out a mangled cigarette and his lighter.
“Wait, let me get this right.” He lights the cigarette and takes a drag before blowing the smoke away from Vash.
“Your body is punishing you with a painful heat, not the fun kind of heat either where you’re all-” he pauses and then moves his hands around, pointing at Vash with his cigarette. “Blooming and stuff.”
Vash’s face turns pinker at Wolfwood’s colorful description of his heat. Blooming. Not the word he would use for it but it’s certainly…interesting.
“Because you don’t produce ba-” He pauses suddenly, his own face heating up. He plucks the cigarette back into his mouth and continues to smoke.
“In a way.” Vash breaks the silence and Nick looks up at him. Vash resists the urge to slap his own cheeks because his face feels like it’s on fire.
“I’m not sure it’s possible but it could be part of the reason.”
“What’s the other part?”
Vash squirms a little under that gaze.
“You see…Plants mate for life and well…Or rather than mate I should say bond.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t have a mate. Or a bonded. However you want to call it.”
Wolfwood smokes in silence, looking contemplative for a moment.
“Mate…like thomas?”
Vash can’t help the amused and exasperated huff.
“Everything is thomas with you.”
“Shut up!” Nick sputters and kills the cigarette in the ashtray he brings from the bedside table. “Sorry for trying to be empathetic. Won’t happen again.”
Vash has to grin at that. Wolfwood can con people easily but he’s not a very good liar otherwise and when it comes to Vash he is especially bad at it.
“But you can say that yeah.” He fiddles with the blanket and sighs.
“Hopefully it will go away soon and after that-” He shrugs. “I just hope it’s not yearly or, god forbid, quarterly.”
“Listen Spikey.” Wolfwood suddenly stands up and takes a seat on the bed. Vash blinks up at him in surprise.
“You say you have no mate.”
“Mhm.”
Nick sighs and scratches the back of his head.
“Well what about-” He points to himself, eyebrow raised in a silent question. Vash just stares at him.
“Haven’t we been um-” He trails off, blush creeping on his features. “Bonding. And stuff?”
Vash huffs.
“You have been helping me, yes. And I’m thankful for that. But you’re not my-’
“Do you want me to be?” Wolfwood cuts through Vash’s words and to the chase. He looks impatient and maybe a little hurt.
Vash’s mouth hangs open for a moment. He moves it uselessly before he blurts out an Excuse me?
“Your mate,” Nick clarifies and his cheeks color even more. “Do you want me to be uh, it? That? Whatever.”
“I-” Vash turns his body a little so he can face his friend.
“If not then it’s…well not fine but I respect it. I’m just a human after all.” He shrugs nonchalantly, like this doesn’t affect him at all.
“Whatever.”
Vash frowns at the display of self depreciation.
“You're not just a human.” He sighs and drops his head to look at his hands. “It’s true that my plant instincts all want you. That means you’re not just a human. Not just any human.”
There’s a shift and Nick’s tanned hand gently rests on his leg.
“Then what’s the problem?” He asks quietly and squeezes his knee gently.
Vash sighs in frustration.
“Because it never happened before!” He looks up. “And I can’t do this to you.”
“Do what?”
“Bind you to me.” He snaps. “I don’t know what it’ll do to you. Hell, I don't know what it’ll do to me.”
He shakes his head, eyes squeezed.
“No. I can't do it.”
“Well I want it. What about that?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Vash scoffs. Explain? The bonding, the telepathic links? Which they’ll probably won’t have in the first place? What about the mind melds? That will freak Wolfwood out and it’s the last thing he wants.
Not to mention…his full form. He doesn’t want to traumatize Wolfwood and he doesn’t see this not being the consequence of it.
Not to mention all the things he doesn’t take into consideration because hell there have never been human/plant bonded pairs before.
“It’s not that sim- oh.” Vash pauses suddenly and shivers when he feels his body wrack with a painful spasm. His relief washes over him when he sees how Wolfwood’s focus changes from that conversation to fretting about him. Small mercies.
“Another wave?” Nick asks, his hand grabbing Vash’s palm and squeezing.
“Yeah.” Vash squeezes back.
“Okay.” Nick helps Vash lay down and get comfortable on the bed again.
Not long after, Vash is shivering and sweating again and Nick is back at his side, hydrating him and changing his compress.
“Wolfwood. It’s okay, I-”
“Shh. Be quiet and rest.” Nick says and smooths Vash’s hair, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. “We’ll talk about this when you’re more lucid.”
“Mm.” Vash hums. There’s pain but it’s a dull ache at this point. Nothing like before. He can take it. He could deal with it now. Even alone.
He looks to Nick who is standing up from the floor and his body moves before he can register.
“Can you-” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for actually. Just…something.
But Wolfwood looks at him and immediately understands.
He understands without words.
It makes Vash shiver not for the reasons connected to his heat this time.
“Yeah.” Nick says and takes Vash’s hand in his own and squeezes gently. Vash is too weak to squeeze back but he hopes Nick can sense that he wants to. Badly.
As if on cue he squeezes it again.
Wolfwood sits on the bed beside him and fixes the blanket around his legs.
“Sleepy?”
“Mhm.” His eyes feel like they weigh a ton. It makes sense, he didn’t get enough sleep these past few days in the first place.
“Then sleep.” Nick reassures him and it sounds like someone is enveloping his brain in smooth velvet. “I’ll be here.”
Vash blinks once, twice, thrice. He doesn’t blink a fourth time though, his chest moving, his breathing a little heavily but steady anyway.
He knows he will be.