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tammaiyaTitle: Sacrifice
Rating: PG/PG-13
Fandom: Trigun
Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood
Genre: Romance. Slight angst, especially if you look carefully.
Notes: I haven't seen Trigun for exactly a year (Eugenie gave it to me for my birthday LAST year), so I fear there may be some OOC-ness. Not too much, I hope. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't work in the actual timeline, either, but let's just pretend.
Summary: Vash has been acting like a completely different person, lately, and Wolfwood finds that he's just a little scared.
Finding out where Vash had gone wasn’t exactly hard, but it wasn’t as easy as it might have been, either. For one thing, he couldn’t exactly ask by name.
“Excuse me, have you seen Vash the Stampede? No? But he was with me- oh damn, I’ve started mass hysteria.”
Nicholas D Wolfwood had come to the conclusion that Vash had been acting Very Strange recently, though he had yet to pinpoint the cause. In fact, he had only just figured out what had changed, which made him feel really guilty as it was a rather big difference, all told.
The Vash Wolfwood knew was sweet and innocent, a complete pacifist. He caused millions upon millions of double dollars of damage to towns and property without ever meaning to, but he would take a bullet rather than hurt a fly. He was a joker, comical and adorable, and on the rare occasion that Wolfwood had tried to sleaze onto him, he apparently hadn’t noticed. Once you knew Vash well, it was incredibly hard to see him as threatening in any way, despite his misplaced reputation.
The Vash he saw now was a total stranger, serious and even dangerous. Wolfwood had to admit to himself that he was just a little bit afraid of this Vash, which was stupid, because Wolfwood was afraid of no one. Or so he told himself.
Vash had gone out earlier that night, had refused to say where or why, and Wolfwood couldn’t decide if he was relieved or concerned. When Vash did careless things like that, it was generally a good time to start worrying. In his current mood, this could be a different situation entirely. Maybe scary, serious Vash was mature enough to keep himself out of trouble. Alternatively, maybe he was heading for disaster as Wolfwood sat there smoking.
Tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette, he contemplated which of the two were more likely. Thinking about it consciously…
Wolfwood’s eyes widened. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
Quickly stamping out the smoke, he grabbed his sunnies and made a break for the door. Why the hell had he let Vash go out alone when he was acting weird?
Oh, yeah, that’s right. He was too busy being afraid of him to try stopping him. This was so bad for his dignity.
Finding out where Vash had gone wasn’t exactly hard, but it wasn’t as easy as it might have been, either. For one thing, he couldn’t exactly ask by name.
“Excuse me, have you seen Vash the Stampede? No? But he was with me- oh damn, I’ve started mass hysteria.”
However, describing him as a tall guy, spiky blond hair, red coat- yes, he is rather good-looking now that you mention it- seemed to work. Asking teenage girls seemed to give the best results, as they were more likely to notice a cute guy than any other person, but as a compromise Wolfwood had to put up with them sighing and going all dreamy at the mere memory of Vash, which made him just a bit grumpy. He was good-looking too, damn it!
All of these clues had eventually led him to one of the bars in the town. There were only two, so Wolfwood wondered why he hadn’t just checked them both instead of wasting his time asking people. He hadn’t known for sure that Vash had gone to a bar, though. He could have gone to visit some family, or gone for a walk outside the town to… to… oh, sniff the flowers or something.
Maybe not in his current mood, though.
What he had not expected to find, though, was an incredibly drunk Vash looking incredibly miserable.
‘Just my luck,’ Wolfwood thought wearily. ‘He’s a fucking morbid drunk when he’s like this.’
Other times when he’d seen Vash drunk, the other man had been just as hyper and even sillier. This moping Vash was probably less likely to get into a mess, but he was less fun, too. Wolfwood firmly preferred his Vash, thank you very much.
Did he just think of Vash in terms of possessive pronouns? Oh, he was so screwed.
“Vash?”
Raising his head from the sticky bench, Vash blinked at him blearily. “Huh?”
Oh, right. Not only was he totally smashed and was probably seeing in double visions, but he didn’t have his glasses on. That helped, not.
“It’s Wolfwood.”
“Oh,” Vash said, blinking. “Hey.”
Wolfwood studied the vast array of empty bottles suspiciously. “Hey, Vash, how much have you had to drink?”
“I lost count,” Vash replied slowly, “after 10. That was a while ago.”
“A long while ago,” the barman added. “Boy, he sure can pack them away.”
Wonderful. It was amazing that Vash hadn’t passed out yet.
“Vash, I really think we should go back to the place we’re staying, don’t you?”
Vash glared at him unfocusedly, eyes narrowing. Wolfwood fought the urge to back away. “No,” Vash slurred. “Don’t wanna. Staying here.”
Hard to argue when you were wondering if you were about to die a horrible death somehow. It didn’t seem very Vash-like to kill a guy, especially not one who was pretty much his friend, but it paid to be cautious.
“Uh… please?” If Vash was going to ignore him, this wasn’t going to work. “Look, there’ll be more alcohol there. I promise. It’d make me happy? Come on, Vash!”
“You’re whining,” Vash said eventually. “Why?”
“Please?” Vash didn’t answer. Persistence, Wolfwood decided, was the key. “Please? Please? Please, Vash? Please?”
“Will you stop nagging?” Vash groaned.
“I’ll stop nagging when you return to the room.”
Huffing, Vash tossed some coins on the table and slid off his barstool, staggering and almost collapsing to the ground. Starting forward, Wolfwood grabbed Vash’s arm and prepared to offer his services as a human crutch. “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”
“’m fine,” Vash snapped, taking two steps before his knees buckled.
“Would you like me to help now?” Wolfwood asked helpfully, only a tinge sarcastic.
Vash scowled at him, returning temporarily to his cute child-like self. “Alright.”
By the time they had reached their current residence, Wolfwood was sincerely hoping he wouldn’t have to hold Vash’s hair back in the bathroom at any point. He still remembered the last time- “Ni~ick!” Vash had whimpered, teal blue eyes large and wavery, before puking all over his shoes. Wolfwood had almost been able to forgive him on the grounds of how adorable he was, cause hell, he’d always had a soft spot for children and when Vash was that helpless it struck a chord in him. Then there was the way he had said his name- Vash didn’t call him ‘Nick’ very often, so when he did Wolfwood tended to give in to his every demand. Not that he’d tell Vash that, of course. He didn’t want his generous nature being abused, after all.
Not like Vash.
Vash could be generous and self-sacrificing to the point of masochism, almost, though Wolfwood never believed that he enjoyed being hurt. He had seen the scars from Vash’s way of life, whether Vash was aware of it or not, and rather than horrifying him it made him feel a deep sadness.
He was beginning to wonder if Vash was a schizophrenic. It would make an awful lot of sense.
“Hey, are you alright?” Wolfwood asked, leaning over Vash’s bed to check before he went to bed himself. Vash grabbed his wrist, and it was a shock how strong that grasp was, almost like iron. He couldn’t escape if he tried, and okay, he was starting to panic now. “Vash, what are you-”
“Stay,” Vash growled, pulling him down do the bed and rolling on top of him, effectively putting a stop to any and all escape attempts.
Staring up into Vash’s blue-green eyes for a lack of choice, Wolfwood considered both sides of the current situation. Vash was gorgeous, true, and Wolfwood had been trying to make passes at him every so often since they’d met. He may have been a priest, but guilt-wise he was a pretty damn bad one, so what were a few more sins to the list?
On the bad side, however, Wolfwood wasn’t sure how he felt about this new aggressive Vash. He was already pinned, and if Vash tried something who was to say he’d get a choice in the matter?
Okay, progressing from scared to outright terrified, here.
“Vash?” Wolfwood rasped, swallowing nervously as he noticed how dry his throat was.
“What do you want from me, Wolfwood?” Vash asked, and the tone was weary rather than playful.
Wolfwood blinked, surprised. “I… I don’t know.”
“You can’t just want to be near me for the sake of it,” Vash insisted. “Why?”
Wolfwood’s brow furrowed. “What? Why not?”
“I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t be near me.”
No shit.
Wolfwood laughed faintly. “Danger is nothing new.”
“I could kill you,” Vash said uncertainly, and Wolfwood thought he detected a hint of the old Vash in that voice.
“Yeah, so could heaps of things,” Wolfwood pointed out. “I live that kind of lifestyle. I’d much rather be killed by you than one of those other goons, anyway.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Vash said quietly, and the vulnerable look was back in his eyes. Now or never, Wolfwood thought, and reached up and pulled Vash down for a brief kiss.
“I like you,” he explained slowly and carefully, keeping in mind Vash’s drunk and addled wits. “Is it so wrong to want to hang around with you purely for the sake of your company?”
A stunned Vash stared at him with a glazed expression before passing out, still lying on top of him.
“Ah, shit,” Wolfwood sighed. “No sex, and I’m still trapped.”
Wolfwood was awoken by a childish whine the next morning to find himself crushed and stiff, with a pitiful Vash lying on top of him.
“Ni~ick!”
Here we go again. Welcome back, Vash.
“Uh?”
“I don’t feel so good…”
“Maybe it was all that alcohol, or maybe I’m just being silly,” Wolfwood muttered. Holding Vash’s hair back over the toilet, what a great way to start the day.
After Vash had finished coughing up stomach acid and had sculled maybe a litre of tap water, he smiled brightly, seeming as if he’d never been ill in the first place.
“Nick?”
“Yes?” Wolfwood asked warily, hoping Vash had discovered the potent power of his first name.
Impishly, Vash grinned and kissed Wolfwood before running back into the other room to order breakfast.
Frozen still in shock, Wolfwood remained where he was standing for another five minutes. Hey, he didn’t mind taking care of a drunk or hung over Vash. Bring it on, life was good.
He had the nagging feeling that things couldn’t stay this way forever, but he ignored it. Live in the present, right?
They were both survivors.
Rating: PG/PG-13
Fandom: Trigun
Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood
Genre: Romance. Slight angst, especially if you look carefully.
Notes: I haven't seen Trigun for exactly a year (Eugenie gave it to me for my birthday LAST year), so I fear there may be some OOC-ness. Not too much, I hope. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't work in the actual timeline, either, but let's just pretend.
Summary: Vash has been acting like a completely different person, lately, and Wolfwood finds that he's just a little scared.
Finding out where Vash had gone wasn’t exactly hard, but it wasn’t as easy as it might have been, either. For one thing, he couldn’t exactly ask by name.
“Excuse me, have you seen Vash the Stampede? No? But he was with me- oh damn, I’ve started mass hysteria.”
Nicholas D Wolfwood had come to the conclusion that Vash had been acting Very Strange recently, though he had yet to pinpoint the cause. In fact, he had only just figured out what had changed, which made him feel really guilty as it was a rather big difference, all told.
The Vash Wolfwood knew was sweet and innocent, a complete pacifist. He caused millions upon millions of double dollars of damage to towns and property without ever meaning to, but he would take a bullet rather than hurt a fly. He was a joker, comical and adorable, and on the rare occasion that Wolfwood had tried to sleaze onto him, he apparently hadn’t noticed. Once you knew Vash well, it was incredibly hard to see him as threatening in any way, despite his misplaced reputation.
The Vash he saw now was a total stranger, serious and even dangerous. Wolfwood had to admit to himself that he was just a little bit afraid of this Vash, which was stupid, because Wolfwood was afraid of no one. Or so he told himself.
Vash had gone out earlier that night, had refused to say where or why, and Wolfwood couldn’t decide if he was relieved or concerned. When Vash did careless things like that, it was generally a good time to start worrying. In his current mood, this could be a different situation entirely. Maybe scary, serious Vash was mature enough to keep himself out of trouble. Alternatively, maybe he was heading for disaster as Wolfwood sat there smoking.
Tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette, he contemplated which of the two were more likely. Thinking about it consciously…
Wolfwood’s eyes widened. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
Quickly stamping out the smoke, he grabbed his sunnies and made a break for the door. Why the hell had he let Vash go out alone when he was acting weird?
Oh, yeah, that’s right. He was too busy being afraid of him to try stopping him. This was so bad for his dignity.
Finding out where Vash had gone wasn’t exactly hard, but it wasn’t as easy as it might have been, either. For one thing, he couldn’t exactly ask by name.
“Excuse me, have you seen Vash the Stampede? No? But he was with me- oh damn, I’ve started mass hysteria.”
However, describing him as a tall guy, spiky blond hair, red coat- yes, he is rather good-looking now that you mention it- seemed to work. Asking teenage girls seemed to give the best results, as they were more likely to notice a cute guy than any other person, but as a compromise Wolfwood had to put up with them sighing and going all dreamy at the mere memory of Vash, which made him just a bit grumpy. He was good-looking too, damn it!
All of these clues had eventually led him to one of the bars in the town. There were only two, so Wolfwood wondered why he hadn’t just checked them both instead of wasting his time asking people. He hadn’t known for sure that Vash had gone to a bar, though. He could have gone to visit some family, or gone for a walk outside the town to… to… oh, sniff the flowers or something.
Maybe not in his current mood, though.
What he had not expected to find, though, was an incredibly drunk Vash looking incredibly miserable.
‘Just my luck,’ Wolfwood thought wearily. ‘He’s a fucking morbid drunk when he’s like this.’
Other times when he’d seen Vash drunk, the other man had been just as hyper and even sillier. This moping Vash was probably less likely to get into a mess, but he was less fun, too. Wolfwood firmly preferred his Vash, thank you very much.
Did he just think of Vash in terms of possessive pronouns? Oh, he was so screwed.
“Vash?”
Raising his head from the sticky bench, Vash blinked at him blearily. “Huh?”
Oh, right. Not only was he totally smashed and was probably seeing in double visions, but he didn’t have his glasses on. That helped, not.
“It’s Wolfwood.”
“Oh,” Vash said, blinking. “Hey.”
Wolfwood studied the vast array of empty bottles suspiciously. “Hey, Vash, how much have you had to drink?”
“I lost count,” Vash replied slowly, “after 10. That was a while ago.”
“A long while ago,” the barman added. “Boy, he sure can pack them away.”
Wonderful. It was amazing that Vash hadn’t passed out yet.
“Vash, I really think we should go back to the place we’re staying, don’t you?”
Vash glared at him unfocusedly, eyes narrowing. Wolfwood fought the urge to back away. “No,” Vash slurred. “Don’t wanna. Staying here.”
Hard to argue when you were wondering if you were about to die a horrible death somehow. It didn’t seem very Vash-like to kill a guy, especially not one who was pretty much his friend, but it paid to be cautious.
“Uh… please?” If Vash was going to ignore him, this wasn’t going to work. “Look, there’ll be more alcohol there. I promise. It’d make me happy? Come on, Vash!”
“You’re whining,” Vash said eventually. “Why?”
“Please?” Vash didn’t answer. Persistence, Wolfwood decided, was the key. “Please? Please? Please, Vash? Please?”
“Will you stop nagging?” Vash groaned.
“I’ll stop nagging when you return to the room.”
Huffing, Vash tossed some coins on the table and slid off his barstool, staggering and almost collapsing to the ground. Starting forward, Wolfwood grabbed Vash’s arm and prepared to offer his services as a human crutch. “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”
“’m fine,” Vash snapped, taking two steps before his knees buckled.
“Would you like me to help now?” Wolfwood asked helpfully, only a tinge sarcastic.
Vash scowled at him, returning temporarily to his cute child-like self. “Alright.”
By the time they had reached their current residence, Wolfwood was sincerely hoping he wouldn’t have to hold Vash’s hair back in the bathroom at any point. He still remembered the last time- “Ni~ick!” Vash had whimpered, teal blue eyes large and wavery, before puking all over his shoes. Wolfwood had almost been able to forgive him on the grounds of how adorable he was, cause hell, he’d always had a soft spot for children and when Vash was that helpless it struck a chord in him. Then there was the way he had said his name- Vash didn’t call him ‘Nick’ very often, so when he did Wolfwood tended to give in to his every demand. Not that he’d tell Vash that, of course. He didn’t want his generous nature being abused, after all.
Not like Vash.
Vash could be generous and self-sacrificing to the point of masochism, almost, though Wolfwood never believed that he enjoyed being hurt. He had seen the scars from Vash’s way of life, whether Vash was aware of it or not, and rather than horrifying him it made him feel a deep sadness.
He was beginning to wonder if Vash was a schizophrenic. It would make an awful lot of sense.
“Hey, are you alright?” Wolfwood asked, leaning over Vash’s bed to check before he went to bed himself. Vash grabbed his wrist, and it was a shock how strong that grasp was, almost like iron. He couldn’t escape if he tried, and okay, he was starting to panic now. “Vash, what are you-”
“Stay,” Vash growled, pulling him down do the bed and rolling on top of him, effectively putting a stop to any and all escape attempts.
Staring up into Vash’s blue-green eyes for a lack of choice, Wolfwood considered both sides of the current situation. Vash was gorgeous, true, and Wolfwood had been trying to make passes at him every so often since they’d met. He may have been a priest, but guilt-wise he was a pretty damn bad one, so what were a few more sins to the list?
On the bad side, however, Wolfwood wasn’t sure how he felt about this new aggressive Vash. He was already pinned, and if Vash tried something who was to say he’d get a choice in the matter?
Okay, progressing from scared to outright terrified, here.
“Vash?” Wolfwood rasped, swallowing nervously as he noticed how dry his throat was.
“What do you want from me, Wolfwood?” Vash asked, and the tone was weary rather than playful.
Wolfwood blinked, surprised. “I… I don’t know.”
“You can’t just want to be near me for the sake of it,” Vash insisted. “Why?”
Wolfwood’s brow furrowed. “What? Why not?”
“I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t be near me.”
No shit.
Wolfwood laughed faintly. “Danger is nothing new.”
“I could kill you,” Vash said uncertainly, and Wolfwood thought he detected a hint of the old Vash in that voice.
“Yeah, so could heaps of things,” Wolfwood pointed out. “I live that kind of lifestyle. I’d much rather be killed by you than one of those other goons, anyway.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Vash said quietly, and the vulnerable look was back in his eyes. Now or never, Wolfwood thought, and reached up and pulled Vash down for a brief kiss.
“I like you,” he explained slowly and carefully, keeping in mind Vash’s drunk and addled wits. “Is it so wrong to want to hang around with you purely for the sake of your company?”
A stunned Vash stared at him with a glazed expression before passing out, still lying on top of him.
“Ah, shit,” Wolfwood sighed. “No sex, and I’m still trapped.”
Wolfwood was awoken by a childish whine the next morning to find himself crushed and stiff, with a pitiful Vash lying on top of him.
“Ni~ick!”
Here we go again. Welcome back, Vash.
“Uh?”
“I don’t feel so good…”
“Maybe it was all that alcohol, or maybe I’m just being silly,” Wolfwood muttered. Holding Vash’s hair back over the toilet, what a great way to start the day.
After Vash had finished coughing up stomach acid and had sculled maybe a litre of tap water, he smiled brightly, seeming as if he’d never been ill in the first place.
“Nick?”
“Yes?” Wolfwood asked warily, hoping Vash had discovered the potent power of his first name.
Impishly, Vash grinned and kissed Wolfwood before running back into the other room to order breakfast.
Frozen still in shock, Wolfwood remained where he was standing for another five minutes. Hey, he didn’t mind taking care of a drunk or hung over Vash. Bring it on, life was good.
He had the nagging feeling that things couldn’t stay this way forever, but he ignored it. Live in the present, right?
They were both survivors.
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-25 08:55 am (UTC)THHHHHAAAAAAAANKKjjjjjj0000000!!!111111one111
Thankyou so very very much ^^ and...
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!1111
I will make you an ICON any ICON!!! Tell me and it's made ^_____^
no subject
Date: 2003-12-25 09:50 am (UTC)No shit.
Me not so much likes: Confusion as to Vash's motives and mood swings. Strange moment of lucidity.
I don't believe I've given this much constructive critcism ever *dies*