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Nick kicks the door to the shabby hut open and stumbles inside with a grunt of effort and he drags Vash with himself.
“Come on Spikeys. Don’t make this difficult." He grunts, one of his arms wrapped around the man’s waist while he has one of his arms slung over his own shoulder. “Jesus, you’re heavy.”
Vash doesn’t comment, at least with anything coherent and Nick doesn’t pry.
He leads Vash inside as quickly as Vash’s own heavy and sluggish steps allow and to be honest it’s not fast enough in his personal liking.
Vash grunts in pain, his head hanging low and then yelps when Nick suddenly stops and pushes him down onto the nearby bed.
“Ow.” He wheezes, wrapping his arms around his middle and leaning forward to curl protectively over stomach.
Where he was shot.
Nick sighs.
“Okay, show me what you got there.”
Vash is silent but from the way his face is angled, Nick can see that' he’s gritting his teeth and.
“I’m fine.” He finally manages and then turns his head to look at Nick, who takes in his sunken eyes, pale face, paler than normal and the sweat beading on his forehead.
“Bullshit. I know you’re bleeding under there.” Nick can’t take it anymore and snaps. Vash narrows his eyes and looks away.
“Had worse.” He sniffs and shrugs. Bad move because it makes him wince again.
“Well I don’t care. Show me. I don’t want to wake up in the morning with your cold body in the room.”
Vash huffs out but then gradually relaxes his shoulders a little and uncurls from the half fetal position.
Nick sits down on the bed next to him and starts unbuttoning Vash’s signature, red coat. When he’s that close he can see the hole the bullet made and the blood seeping into the fabric. He wonders if Vash wears this color also because it hides the blood stains with how often he is shot and stabbed.
His leather top comes into view but for once in his life he ignores it and doesn’t even spare half a second to ogle that trim waist.
Vash is bleeding from a wound right under his navel, the crimson, sticky blood pouring from him slowly but steadily.
“Nnn.” A pained groan cuts through the air when Nick feels around his stomach.
“We need to get this out.” The bullet is not too deep but it must have grazed something important. He closes his eyes and prays quickly to whatever deity will hear him and hopes that Vash’s weird, plant biology will perform miracles now as well and mend his body inside out.
But he needs to get the bullet out first.
Nick stands up and leaves Vash alone for a moment, and gets to looking through the place for some supplies that can be even a little helpful.
It’s a shabby, old hut, more a shack than a house really, but it has a makeshift kitchen. Nick looks through the cabinets that look like they are falling apart and the only thing he finds is a stray bottle of whiskey.
Not even any food leftovers or coffee. He can’t really blame anyone for wanting to drink themselves into unconsciousness to cope with reality.
Nick definitely feels similar at this moment, but before he can he has something to do.
He takes a whiff of the alcohol and it hits him hard he has to turn his head away.
“That will do.”
He brings the bottle to a panting, sweaty, bleeding out Vash.
Nick knocks his hands away from where they prod his bullet wound and hands him the bottle.
“Here. Drink this.”
Vash takes a shaky sip and coughs, the brown liquid dribbling down his chin.
“What is this stuff?”
Nick shrugs and takes the bottle away from a pouting Vash.
“Stay still. I need to disinfect it and I only have this. So hold on.”
“Wh-” He blurts when Nick pushes him against the wall and pours the liquid onto his bleeding wound.
Vash’s eyes turn wide at the first, biting touch and he muffles a scream behind his hand, his stomach spasming and leg kicking out.
“Stay.” Wolfwood presses a hand to his stomach and grounds down.
Vash groans and pants, but he forces his body to stay still, only convulsing a little.
Nick brushes his hair from his sweaty forehead where it has fallen out of his gelled up spikes.
“Good.” He puts the bottle on the floor, carefully and away so he doesn’t knock it up and helps Vash out of his coat and then reaches for the bottle again.
Vash watches him as he washes his hands with the whiskey with glassy eyes and a confused frown.
Nick really really hopes Vash is immune to most infections.
“This will hurt.” He puts one hand on Vash’s flat stomach, spreading the skin around the wound with his pointer and thumb.
Vash shakes like a leaf and Nick exhales before he starts prodding with the pointer of his other hand. He pulls on the skin and more blood dribbles out of the wound, immediately sinking into the skin of his hand.
Vash whines and jerks but before he can wriggle out of Nick’s hold, he presses his other hand hard down on his stomach.
“If you don’t stop squirming the bullet will go in deeper and I don’t want to cut you open.”
Not to mention he doesn’t have anything to do that with anyway and he won’t risk looking for any knives in his dump.
Vash huffs out. He licks his chapped lips. There’s more sweat on his face now, some of it glistening under his nose.
Nick waits for him to settle down again and goes back to prodding the bullethole.
When his finger finally breaches the opening Vash makes a quiet noise but stays still.
“There you go.” Nick hums quietly and carefully pushes his finger in again, deeper this time. Vash’s stomach spasm and his voice hitches but Nick ignores it as well as the wet, squelching sound. He feels a bead of his own sweat roll down the side of his face.
He ignores that as well, even though the ticklish feeling is distracting.
Then he feels something hard under the pad of his finger,
“Found it.” He says and moves his free hand under Vash’s navel. “Brace yourself.”
“Wh-” Vash doesn’t manage to finish when Nick presses down and up, moving the bullet upwards, while his finger prods the slippery opening.
“Fuck!” Vash yells and trashes, almost knocking Nick off balance, and making his hand slip out of Vash’s body.
“Damn it Vash!”
“So-” Vash wheezes and swallows. His face is pale but there's also a faint flush high on his cheeks. His lips are chapped and dry and his eyes look shiny from unshed tears.
“C’mere.” He grumbles and swings a leg over Vash’s hips and sits on his knees, trapping them under his own weight.
“Don’t kick me.” He grunts and repositions his hands back on Vash’s body. “Shit. It moved lower.”
Vash whimpers pathetically while Nick gropes his stomach.
“Hold onto something.”
Vash can only hold onto either the cot or the Wolfwood. He chooses the bed in the end and Nick hears the old metal chassis groan when Vash’s hands squeeze it.
Nick finds the bullet again and starts kneading Vash’s muscles so it moves up.
Vash bites his lip so hard he draws blood, small whimpers slipping through anyway and a few stray tears running down his cheeks.
“You can scream if you want, it’s just us.”
Vash shakes his head, resting it on the side with his eyes squeezed shut.
“Have it your way.” He shrugs and refocuses on his task at hand.
Vash is bleeding steadily if slowly. It’s hard to say how much blood he lost but for now he’s still conscious even if exhausted.
For now.
Vash is struggling, whining and kicking his legs when Nick adds a second finger after he had no way but to forcefully stretch the wound a little.
He tries to scoop up the bullet out like he’s picking a nickel from between couch cushions but his fingers keep missing it by a millimeter or slipping off due to sticky, slippery blood.
“F-fffuck. Wolf-AH!”
“Shh, shh it’s okay. I’m being gentle and you’re okay.” He murmurs, his clean hand coming to brush more hair out Vash’s face. “Almost there.” He grunts and bears down hard under Vash’s navel. He can feel, hell he can even see the bullet rolling under Vash’s skin but he has to ground down hard.
Vash yelps surprised and Nick loosens his hold.
Vash trembles like a leaf and gives Nick the most pleading look.
Wolfwood sighs.
“Sorry for that.”
Vash’s eyebrows pinch up in a frown that Wolfwood would think endearing and maybe even adorable in different circumstances.
“S’fine.” He slurs and tenses again preparing his body.
And that’s the problem isn’t it? He keeps tension and it just makes the extraction more and more difficult.
Nick places his palm gently on Vash’s stomach and just keeps it there.
“No, I hurt you. Sorry.” He murmurs and moves his hand to Vash’s hip to pet it.
Vash’s frown relaxes until it melts away completely.
He closes his eyes and licks his lips, head tipping back.
“I’m sleepy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” He hums. “When you’re done I’m taking a nap. Dibs on the bed.”
Nick huffs out a husky laugh.
“That so?”
Vash makes a quiet, nonsense hum and relaxes, his breathing evening out
Vash seems to be distracted for a moment by his petting so Nick braces himself and suddenly plunges his fingers deeper into Vash’s stomach and finally, finally catches the bullet.
Vash wails in pain and jerks, body going taunt, and Nick manages to pull his hand and himself away before he’s almost knocked painfully to the ground.
“There we go.” He looks at the bullet between his sticky red fingers and then throws it to the ground.
Wolfwood reaches for the bottle of whiskey to take a swing.
“Thank god it wasn't that deep.” He jokes but it falls on deaf ears. Vash doesn’t look lucid, his gaze is somewhere else.
Nick pats him lightly on the face, his other hand pressed to Vash’s stomach where the wound is still bleeding.
“You with me?”
“Ughhh.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it Spikey.”
Vash makes a strange sound and then to Nick’s amusement kicks him in the side.
It’s a light nudge but it’s something.
He gives him a once over and snorts.
“Hold this for a moment.” He grabs Vash’s flesh hand and presses it to his own stomach.
“Ugh, Wolfwood.” Vash’s head lolls.
Nick rummages through his pockets and takes out his lighter.
Vash raises an eyebrow.
“You’re going to smoke now?”
Nick feels a sense of relief at the way his quippiness comes back suddenly. Good, means he is healing even just by extracting the bullet. But he’s still bleeding and it bothers Wolfwood because he has never seen Vash bleed like that.
“I need to cauterize the wound.”
Vash looks at him like he suddenly doesn’t understand what languages they’re speaking.
“Wha-” he swallows a few times to find his voice. “What do you mean?”
The idea of causing Vash even more pain is honestly nauseating but he doesn’t have a choice.
“I don’t have a needle and thread and you're bleeding a lot. This will slow it down.” He explains calmly and brings the lighter closer to Vash’s naked skin.
“Wolf-” He protests, angling his body weakly away from the threatening heat. Nick feels sick because there’s actual fear in his eyes.
He pauses and puts a hand on Vash’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he calls out until Vash looks at him. “Do you trust me?”
Low blow but he’s out of options.
“Yes.” Vash answers after a moment but it sounds steady and convincing. The fear is still lingering there though.
“Okay.” He decides to get back to his previous spot on Vash’s legs, preventing them from writhing.
Before he starts he catches Vash’s eyes one more time.
“Listen, you can faint. I got it. Don’t worry.”
An emotion flashes across Vash’s tired features but Nick doesn’t have the time to try and decipher it.
Not now. Maybe later. Probably never.
“Alright. Brace yourself again, Spikey.”
The first touch of fire over Vash’s bloody skin makes him yelp and his stomach jump.
Nick puts the flat of his palm to his hip and presses down hard.
Vash jerks and gasps in his hold, the hand with the lighter steady over his skin.
Vash’s groan turns into a yell of pain and the smell of charred, burned skin and blood fills Nick’s nostrils.
“Ah!!” Vash wails and trashes under him, tears rolling down his cheeks, creating tracks in his grimy, sweaty face.
His mouth is blood red bitten, while his carefully put together hair is in disarray now.
“I know.” Nick says, hopefully loud enough for Vash to hear. “I know it hurts.”
“Wolf..wud.” Vash slurs deliriously, his face covered in sweat, tears and snot.
“Yeah I’m here. Just a little more.”
Suddenly both flesh and metal hands grab him, and squeeze his forearms so hard he swears he can hear his own bones grinding against each other.
Vash is grinding his own teeth so hard Nick is afraid of him chipping a tooth in the process.
“Here.” He shakes Vash’s hand off one of his arms and brings his hand to Vash’s face.
“Bite this.”
Vash looks hesitant but when Nick presses the fire to his stomach suddenly he yelps and Nick grabs the lower half of his face.
Vash’s jaw immediately locks down and Nick grunts in pain when he feels those sharp as knives teeth sink into his skin, breaking it and drawing blood.
Vash grunts and groans when Nick keeps cauterizing the wound until it stops bleeding.
And once he’s done Vash loosens his jaws with a whimper and promptly passes out.
When he comes too the first thing he sees is the cracked and damaged ceiling just in time for a piece of dust to flutter down and only narrowly miss his face.
Vash squeezes his eyes and tries to roll onto his side but all he manages is a strange full body jerk, followed by a groan when he feels the burning pain in his abdomen.
“Don’t move too much.”
Wolfwood’s voice comes from somewhere he cannot discern but it’s near.
He stays still, only blinking and breathing, trying to backtrack everything that happened.
They were in a local town, helping the community get rid of bandits….only to turn out that they were working with them because they wanted him for the bounty.
There was a shootout and someone got shot.
Him, yes but not at first. It was the daughter of the local hunter. The one that sold him out.
Vash remembers helping patch the girl’s wounds and then…he gave them his whole medical equipment.
That of course made Wolfwood pretty mad. Pretty was an understatement. They fought so much they got momentarily distracted when the bandits attacked them just outside the town.
Wolfwood got shot too - in the arm but he was fine overall.
Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to drag a bleeding and half limp Vash into this…whatever this was.
Then...he got the bullet out and closed his wound.
Vash jerks when he remembers how that happened. He feels his abdomen pulse in pain.
And blinks. There’s that familiar black, blazer draped over him like a makeshift blanket.
And underneath he’s shirtless but wrapped in some sort of white cloth.
Well it was white once. Now it’s grayish with a big, brown stain in the middle.
His dried blood.
He lays there, gathering strength until he’s able to sit up and lean against the wall the dinky cot is pushed against.
“Where did you find bandages?” He carefully runs a hand over his tightly bound stomach.
“It’s not bandages.”
Vash looks down and squints and then he actually properly looks at Wolfwood who is sitting by the shabby, broken window, smoking and brooding.
And also shirtless.
“Oh.” He breathes when understanding dawns on him. “Right. Thanks. Sorry about…that.”
Wolfwood shrugs and taps his cigarette, dropping ash on the filthy floor.
“You need to restock your first aid kit.” He says around it before taking a drag.
That startles a sudden laugh out of him that morphs into a pained hiss.
“Ouch.” He hugs his stomach, curling in on himself, shaking from the lingering pain. He thinks the hole has closed already but he can feel the way the burnt skin is taut and stretched under the material of the makeshift bandage.
Nick watches him pensively for a longer moment.
“Sorry I added another one to your collection.”
Vash huffs and waves him off.
“It’s fine. Thanks.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “And sorry.”
Nick raises an eyebrow in surprise.
“For?”
“For getting you into trouble again, and…that.” He gestures to Nick’s hand.
Wolfwood looks down on said hand - it’s the one that holds his cigarette - and looks it over as if he just now realized he had one.
There’s a bright red mark in the shape of Vash’s teeth. He winces in sympathy because they had to hurt.
Wolfwood snorts.
“Of course it’s that and not you being a reckless idiot.”
“Sorry I won’t apologize for it.” He huffs stubbornly. “But for almost biting through your palm? Yeah.”
Nick shrugs and brings the cigarette back into his mouth.
“You don't have rabies do you?”
“I’m not a dog.” Vash rolls his eyes and swings his legs to carefully put them on the floor.
Wolfwood took off his shoes so he could rest properly. Vash smiles a little to himself at that considerate gesture.
“Coulda foul me.” Nick snorts. “What are you grinning about, you idiot? Come here and have a drink. I left you some.” He swings the bottle of whiskey by its neck.
Vash braces himself and finally stands up with a groan.
It takes him some effort to reach where Wolfwood is sitting by the window and he grabs the bottle from his hand.
He sits down heavily and takes a swing of the alcohol of questionable quality.
“Ugh, ew? This is terrible.”
Nick doesn’t quip back, just watches him silently.
“What’s that glare for?”
Nick drops the cigarette to the ground and crushes it under his heel. He reaches for the bottle and takes a sip himself and then passes it back to Vash.
“Listen Spikey.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t….don’t make me do that again, okay?”
Vash opens his mouth to say something. Something probably stupid and vaguely innuendo adjacent. Oh Wolfwood really? Was having your fingers in me that awful?
But Wolfwood looks at him in such a way that any smartass rebuttal he has prepared dies in his throat.
“Don’t make me dig up a bullet out of your guts and then burn you so you don’t bleed to death.” Nick clarifies as if it was needed.
Vash pouts and looks down at his shoes.
“I wouldn’t have bled to death.” He grumbles and takes another sip, or at least attempts to but Wolfwood grabs his arm and pulls so he misses his mouth.
“I am serious.” Nick growls into his face but then the angry facade drops and he’s just weary and tired.
He’s tired of Vash.
His stomach sinks at the realization.
Nick lets go of Vash’s arm with a sigh and turns away from him, looking for another cigarette.
Vash looks at the back of his head and has to stop the sob that threatens to rip itself out of his throat.
He blinks the sharp sting in his eyes away and takes another sip from the bottle.
Nick rolls the wheel of his lighter and the smell of smoke fills the little hut again.
“I’ll try.”
It’s the last thing he says for the rest of the night.