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Wolfwood's pale hand clamped against his side, hot blood dripping through his trembling fingers as he gritted his teeth and hissed in agony. The priest blinked and let out a quivering breath, the darkness surrounding his peripheral vision creeping further into his vision as the big black dots danced across it. He knew it was a mistake to follow Needle Noggen around, but for some reason, his stupid heart fell for the spiky blonde dumbass. He'd heard rumors from different towns that whoever came across Vash the Stampede was doomed. Either you got gunned down by his crazed brother, Million Knives, or you were destined to scrape by for the rest of your life.
Wolfwood cursed himself mentally for abandoning Punisher in the ruined town, but the priest didn't think he would survive the swift blood loss and the weight of his weapon. Already straining, Wolfwood dragged himself into a nearby church, closing the door slowly with a loud creak, and leaned against a pew chair, letting out a ragged breath. The beautiful oak wood became crimson as his blood soaked into it.
Grunting, the black-haired man stumbled forward, his legs shaking violently as his vision blurred. Wolfwood's head swam while the room spun around him. He took a few more steps before feeling his body start to fall backward. The priest's head thudded against the carpet as darkness crept further into the man's vision. Raising a trembling, bloodied hand, the dark-haired man opened his mouth, but only a wheezing breath escaped. Long minutes of silence seemed to tick by slowly, the pool of blood surrounding Wolfwood's body slowly expanding across the oak flooring, the male's eyes slipped closed for a brief moment before snapping open. Don't fall asleep. Fall asleep, and you're dead.
The priest mentally scolded himself harshly. Swallowing the bile and copper that filled his mouth, Wolfwood managed to crawl down the row of pew chairs, pulling himself up the small steps of the stage and leaning against the lectern before his head slumped forward. The front doors of the church slammed open, causing Wolfwood to flinch slightly before hissing in pain. A pair of arms wrapped around his slender frame, and the priest could tell someone was speaking above him, but the words were too muffled to understand. A small, pained whine escaped the smaller male's mouth as he was lifted from the floor before darkness finally took over Wolfwood's body.
While Wolfwood was asleep, time seemed to stop, but when he opened his eyes and saw a strange wooden ceiling, a cold cloth was draped across his hot forehead; it felt as though years had gone by. He slowly turned his head and saw that Vash was sleeping on the chair next to his bed, that the floor was covered in bloody gauze and other medical equipment, and that the nightstand was covered in old food containers and drinking glasses. He didn't notice the discomfort until he tried to move. Pain exploded through the male's body, squeezing his eyes shut Wolfwood heard Vash shuffling beside him, and the cloth on his forehead was quickly replaced as well. "You're still recovering, Nick. Don't try and move around too much, or I'll have to redress your wounds." The blonde whispered, voice tight with worry and exhaustion.
Sweat and heat flowed off the priest's body in waves, and he keened softly. The thin piece of cloth that was placed over his head seemed ineffective against his fever. Vash made a noise in the back of his throat when he lifted the bed sheet from the smaller male's chest. He examined the bloodied gauze for a few minutes before turning toward the nightstand and grabbing another washcloth before he started cleaning around the wound. Wolfwood gasped in pain, digging his nails into the mattress as Vash apologized under his breath.
His head swirled, opening his lips, which felt like it was filled with cotton. Wolfwood let out a hoarse sound and winced, swallowing the large lump in the back of his throat. "H-How?" He wheezed, leaning forward as Vash offered a sip of water. Wolfwood took a few sips of water before the gunman set the cup back down on the nightstand.
With two fists in his lap, Vash sat back in the chair. "A-I saw the blood trail leaving the town after the shooting. I tracked it down and discovered you in the local church, sitting in a pool of your blood. Nick, what were you thinking? You could have died!" The blonde yelled. Tears pricked the corners of the outlaw's eyes, threatening to spill down his pale cheeks.
Wolfwood let out a pained chuckle, wincing slightly. In the back of his mind, he knew why he decided to try and take on the thugs alone: it was to protect Vash. Black eyes shifted toward the taller male, inhaling and exhaling slowly, but he couldn't know that. The priest was a walking disaster, even if Wolfwood told the other how he felt, it wouldn't end well for either of them. "I-I couldn't let anyone get hurt. I knew they were after me,e Needle Noggen, you and I both know I couldn't live with myself if someone got hurt because of me." He replied.
They were quiet for a couple of minutes, Vash opened his mouth to continue speaking, only to close his mouth and smirk slightly when he noticed that the priest had fallen back asleep. Chewing the inside of his cheek, the male stood slowly, running his hands through Wolfwood's sweat-slicked hair. Sighing, Vash shook his head, leaning down and gently kissing the other male's forehead. Studied his relaxed face for a few moments. A mixture of emotions swirled in the blonde's chest as he slowly ran a hand through his hair. "What am I going to do with you, Nick?" He whispered, turning his attention toward the mess of dishes. After grabbing the dishes, the gunman gave one more look at the sleeping male before exiting the hotel room.
***
His body felt like it was on fire when Wolfwood woke up a second time. The room was dark, and Vash was no longer in the chair next to him. His limbs felt heavier, and his body was sticky with sweat. Swallowing a large amount of saliva, Wolfwood slowly propped himself up on his elbows, pushing the sharp, stabbing pain in his side to the back of his mind. If you stay here, Knives will find you and hurt Vash. A voice whispered in the back of the priest's mind, causing him to sluggishly scoot toward the edge of the bed, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Squeezing his eyes shut, the man dug his nails into his thigh, trying to focus on something other than the blinding pain radiating from his side. He took a few deep breaths before pushing himself up from the edge of the bed. Wolfwood stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the nightstand next to him, wincing as several glasses crashed to the floor with a shattering sound. The black-haired man waited a few minutes, his black eyes focused on the door, before turning his head toward the window. Quickly shaking the thought from his mind, he continued to the door.
Wolfwood sighed in relief and closed his eyes for a few minutes, resting his hot head on the cold wood of the door. The priest let out a choking sob as he twisted the door handle, hissing as the wooden door creaked loudly, his heart thumping against his chest, reverberating in his ears, and his blood feeling like it was boiling from the inside out. The male's stomach flipped as the dimly lit corridor whirled wildly. He hastily covered his mouth, fled across the room to the little bathroom, and vomited the food from his dinner a few nights prior.
Wolfwood placed his head on the toilet bowl, his thin arm around his stomach, and his ragged breathing and moaning filled the bathroom. The priest's shaking hand twisted in his sweat-slick hair, his black eyes were foggy from fever, and he was haunched over the position in the bathroom, vomiting up whatever little food remained in his stomach, causing him to lose track of how long he had been there.
Panting heavily, the priest let out a low whimper; tears pricked the corner of his eyes. Wolfwood's lip quivered slightly. The male's brain didn't register the hotel door closing with a soft click, and heavy footsteps bounced off the thin walls, pausing at the bathroom doorway. The shorter male gasped and snapped his head to the side, meeting blue-green eyes as a little hand appeared on the curve of his back. The male relaxed a little and leaned back. "W-What are you doing here still, Needle Noggen?" The male with the black hair rasped and used the back of his hand to wipe the last of his saliva off his chin. Vash didn't speak, he simply pushed himself onto his feet and disappeared into the bedroom. Coming back a few minutes later with a washcloth and held it out for the other male. Wolfwood glanced down at the rag, inhaling and exhaling softly before taking the washcloth and wiping his mouth and hands before tossing it into the sink. "Still didn't answer my question, Vash, you should be long gone from me or this town by now." The priest insisted.
The blonde leaned against the door frame, stuffing his hands into his pocket, and watched the other male for a few minutes. Leaning his head back against the wooden frame, Vash sighed, shrugging. "I couldn't leave you alone when you're injured and sick." He admitted lowly. Wolfwood gazed at the other man for a considerable amount of time, and his lips squeezed into a thin line; for a few months, they had been dancing around whatever their relationship had been. The priest initially joined the small company of traveling vagrants for his benefit; after all, who wouldn't use the opportunity to be better protected in their circumstances?
But as the days dragged on and the more time Wolfwood spent with the reporters and outlaw, his heart started growing fond of them. But these last three months together, it seemed Vash felt it too, and the outlaw and priest had been awkwardly avoiding each other or walking on eggshells whenever the other was present. It was just the question of who would crack first and break whatever silence was between them.
The priest snorted, rolling his eyes, fighting the pain that shot through his head. "I'm not sick, I feel fine," Wolfwood said, lowering his head back to his lap. "I just felt lightheaded." He pushed himself to his feet and lied. The priest's legs shook uncontrollably, causing him to stumble backward, back hitting the titled wall behind him.
Vash quickly pushed himself off the wooden door frame. One hand on the other man's shoulder and the other around his slim waist, a soft smile forming on his face. "Sure, that's why you threw up all your dinner from the last three nights, and I can feel the heat coming from your body." He muttered, guiding the shorter male back toward the bedroom. Gently sliding Wolfwood from his grip down onto the edge of the bed, slowly pulling the male's shirt up and winced. "I'll need to swap your wound, stay here." He instructed sternly, wagging a finger at the shorter male. The priest mocked the blonde when he disappeared back into the bathroom, black eyes shifting down to the dark brown bandages tightly wrapped around his side, a mixture of emotions swirled in his stomach as Vash reappeared from the bathroom. The black-haired male tuned the taller male out as he leisurely started unwrapping the bandages, tossing them into the trash next to him and bringing a rag up to the wound, causing the smaller male to inhale sharply and flinch away. After cleaning the wound and gently rewrapping his side, the blonde helped Wolfwood lay back down in the bed.
***
A week had passed, and Vash's nerves were running on fumes. Wolfwood's fever spiked twice while he was out getting groceries. The blonde wished he could find the priest in the bathroom, throwing up whatever the gunman had tried to feed him. It had only happened once, but it wasn't. The taller male counted at least four times he had been present, but Vash was hesitant to ask the other male how many times it had been when he wasn't around. The blonde nodded to the hotel manager, then climbed the creaky wooden stairs back to the little hotel room after scooping a big serving of pre-made strew into the wooden bowl and pouring more water into a cup. Pausing at the door for a moment, he exhaled loudly before pushing it open with his hip. Fortunately, it was a cool night, so Vash hoped it would help reduce the fever of the black-haired male.
As he walked further into the room, the blonde set down the dishes and replaced the priest's cold rag. Using one hand, Vash gently lifted Wolfwood's head while the other slowly tipped the cup, allowing the other man to take a few sips. Afterward, the outlaw settled into the chair across from the shorter man and began eating at a slow pace. Green-blue eyes trained on the sleeping form in front of him as if the smaller male would disappear if Vash looked away. The outlaw's brain didn't register the flavor of the food; it felt like ash on his tongue as he pressed his lips into a thin line. Vash glanced down at the strew, letting out a small sigh, and then placed the bowl onto the nightstand before leaning back in the chair, arm draped across his face as he leaned his head backward.
They'd been in the same hotel for about a week now, and everything was quiet. If Vash had to be honest with himself, it's been too quiet. Knives has never been one to let things go lightly, especially when he's called a hit on someone. The blonde eyes shifted toward Wolfwood, chewing on the end of his thumb, half of the outlaw had a theory of why his brother called a hit on the priest. Part of him was hoping he was wrong, but Vash was rarely wrong when it came to his brother. Vash's instincts were telling him to gather as much as he could, go look for Punisher, and flee. Given how bad Wolfwood's fever was and the fact that the blonde hadn't been able to stop the bleeding, he didn't think he would make the trip, which would have led anyone searching for them straight to the two of them.
The outlaw groaned softly as he combed through his hair and looked around the little hotel room. He reached into his pocket and squeezed the little bundle of cash he had collected at the last town. If they stretched it thin enough, Vash could buy groceries for another week. Alternatively, he could try to locate a local doctor in this town and have Wolfwood fixed. In any case, they would have to relocate to a different town; Vash's only concern was that the priest would not perish on the journey. The blonde may do what he always does, which is to pretend to be someone else for a while to obtain a job and some more pocket change, while the shorter male regains his strength. Wolfwood made a noise in the back of his throat, snapping the blonde out of his train of thought. Vash scrambled out of the chair, kneeling next to the bed, and intertwined his fingers with the other males. "What's wrong, Nick? Where does it hurt?" Vash whispered.
As he opened his blurry eyes and painfully turned his head to look at the blonde, the priest furrowed his brow and swallowed heavily. "W-W-Will you tell Vash that I'm sorry." He muttered.
Vash's eyes grew slowly, and he opened his mouth to speak, but only air came out. He tightened his hold on the shorter man's hand, causing their hands to quiver a little. "What could you possibly be sorry for?" His voice trailed off a little as he asked.
For a long few minutes, Wolfwood was quiet, and Vash honestly believed he had fallen back asleep until the shorter male let out a wheezing gasp. The priest winced and moistened his lips a little. "Making him worry about me when I'm hurt and lying to him," Wolfwood retorted.
The blonde's heart hammered against his chest as he softly bit his bottom lip. Vash couldn't help but smirk and chuckle softly. Of course, he'd worried about the black-haired male, Wolfwood was his friend. Against his better judgment, Vash knew he wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to people he cared about. It was one of the habits Milly loved about him. It was also one of the habits that Meryl hated about him; it was easier to track down the outlaw when his enemies knew about his closest friends. They were always used as leverage against Vash, and luckily, nobody had gotten hurt yet. But it was bound to happen when their luck ran out, and someone in the group got hurt. Unfortunately, it was Wolfwood who was nominated this time. The outlaw was aware of the other man's secrets, but he didn't have a habit of making others feel guilty for keeping them.
The taller man's mind was racing with a million ideas as he gently closed his eyes and dug his fingernails into the flesh of his palm. Hell, even he had secrets he didn't want anyone to know. Vash's body felt constricted, and his throat was squeezed until he was unable to breathe. "W-W-What did you lie about Wolfwood?" He gave a raspy sound.
The priest let out a shaky breath, "He asked me how I felt about him, and I told him that he was just a piece to my motives." He started, shaking his head. "B-But that's a lie. I think I'm in love with him, but I'm too much of a coward to tell him the truth." He said, a weak grin appearing on his pale face. "I-I-Isn't that funny, someone who faces death almost every day is too scared to tell his crush that he loves him." Wolfwood continued, letting out a wet chuckle.
Vash fought the urge to lean forward and kiss the other male, his cheeks turning slightly pink as the male turned his head away quickly. Chewing the inside of his cheek until copper coated his tongue. The blonde listened to the shorter male's ragged breathing for a few seconds before he smiled sadly. "I don't think that's cowardly; everyone is scared at some point. It's about finding the courage to conquer that fear and conquer whatever scares them." The outlaw stated. "I think you should tell him," Vash added.
Wolfwood hummed lowly, head lolling to the side once more before his breathing even out. The blonde watched the other male for a few minutes, shaking his head, and stood. Leaning down and gently kissing the priest on the forehead. "I love you too...Dumbass." Vash whispered.
***
Vash felt as though finally breathing properly when Wolfwood's fever broke a week later. The priest was still somewhat dazed and confused when he woke up a couple of hours after the blonde had brought them food, but the shorter man accepted the bowl without complaining too much. They sat and ate in silence, exchanging questioning glances every so often before one of them looked away, their cheeks slightly flushed. Vash knew the guy hated awkward silence, so whatever was between them would eventually come to light. The outlaw just had to wait for the shorter guy to break the silence first; there were too many times the black-haired guy would fill a silent walk across the hot sand with a joke or even a complaint. Millie would always respond with a heartfelt offer of water or shoot back her joke. Vash let a couple of minutes pass before the blonde sighed, "How are you feeling?" He questioned with a soft smile. '
Wolfwood set his spoon on the nightstand and tilted his head back to drink the soup noisily. His black eyes shifted toward the taller male, and he grunted. Setting his bowl down a couple of seconds later, he said, "Side still hurts like a bitch, but it should last until I can get a proper doctor to look at it and patch me up. For a gunman, you did pretty alright, Needle Noggen." He complimented.
With tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, the blonde threw a hand to his forehead and let out a loud laugh. "You didn't make it easy, Nick, I almost tied you up to the bedpost with how many times you tried to run away." He answered.
The shorter man rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath. "Blondie, I didn't ask for your assistance. Your god complex prevented me from dying in that church where I should have. He folded his arms across his chest and sighed. "What are you going to do now? Go back to the girls?" He questioned a few minutes later.
Vash leaned forward a little and shook his head. The azure eyes glanced down at Wolfwood and then back up at him. I'd like to stay with you. He was about to say, but he said instead. "I thought I'd stick around with you for a while, just in case you get into another sticky situation." The outlaw grinned broadly in response.
The blonde felt uneasy as Wolfwood gazed at the other man for a while, his black eyes displaying a range of emotions. Until a tiny chuckle escaped the priest's lips as the corner of his mouth twitched. "Do what you want, but I need to get my Punisher back." He said.
The taller male folded his arms over his chest and hummed, eyes hardening. "If we're going back, then we should come up with a plan. We don't know if Knives's men are still there or if he'll show up to finish the job." The blonde suggested.
Wolfwood jerked his head in the direction of the other male, snarling his lip and narrowing his eyes. "No way you're coming with me, Needle Noggen." He clenched two fists in his lap and yelled.
The blonde's eyes narrowed as a spark of anger ignited in his chest. He carefully flexed his hands while biting his bottom lip. The outlaw closed his eyes and took calm breaths. "Why not? It's better to go with two than to go alone. I can keep an eye on your back this way." Calmly, he asked.
The priest swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to lung forward and kiss the stupid blonde in front of him just to shut him up and win this stupid argument. Wolfwood knew it was stupid, and he couldn't control the other male even though he wished Vash came with a remote control sometimes. The shorter male opened his mouth and then closed it fast. The shorter man was trying to think of a rapid response, and Vash could see the gears in his brain churning wildly. He groaned in frustration and turned away, his cheeks blazing pink. "Because..." He muttered. "Just...Because..." The shorter male repeated.
The frown on the blonde's face disappeared, turning into a small smile. Hee knew Wolfwood was too prideful to admit he cared, but that was another package they would unpack later when the shorter male wasn't being stubborn. With a sigh, Vash leaned back in the chair, combed his hair, and raised his head to the ceiling. "I know you don't want me to get hurt, Nick, but that's going to happen whether you like it or not." He clarified.
The black-haired male was silent, eyes glancing down at his lap, while the tension in his shoulders seemed to disappear before Vash's eyes. "F-Fine, but we'll need a plan." He said.
***
Vash felt anxious as they stepped into the deserted town, perspiration trickling down their foreheads on either side. Chewing his lower lip and resisting the impulse to rub his fingers together, the blonde tilted his head in the direction of the priest, his blue-green eyes looking down at the shorter man's hand. "If those thugs didn't take Punisher, then it should still be in the town square." Wolfwood sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and continued into the town. Wincing slightly from the splashes of blood against the sand, the outlaw trailed closely after the other male, eyes sweeping the empty streets. "D-Do you think the girls got out okay?" The priest asked, suddenly breaking the silence.
The blonde tilted his head back, inhaling and exhaling slowly while folding his arms behind his head. "Knowing them, Millie is likely too cautious to seek out danger," the priest replied with a small smirk. Vash nodded, his eyes falling to the ground. They continued walking until they slowly approached the town square. The metal statue lay toppled over, riddled with bullet holes, and smeared with blood and soot. Wolfwood scanned the ruined area, his lip curling slightly as he walked away from Vash and moved closer to the fallen statue.
The Punisher wasn't here. So that meant either the thugs stole it to sell it, or it got destroyed in the rubble. Wolfwood let out a sigh, tipping his head up slightly. His dark sunglasses gleamed in the sunlight, and a mixture of anger and frustration bubbled in his chest. He should have known leaving his weapon was a stupid idea, now he was going to have to go on a manhunt to find it, which was going to be a pain since it could be anywhere on the planet. "You find it?" Vashwood questioned, appearing next to him, causing the shorter male to jump slightly.
Cleaning his throat, the black-haired male fixed his glasses quickly. "No, thugs must have taken it for scrap metal." He responded.
The blonde hummed, rubbing his chin for a few minutes. "There is a chance that It'll be at the scrap yard or even at the market,t we can check there first since it's closer." He suggested, wrapping an arm around Wolfwood's shoulders.
The priest made a sound in the back of his throat, "Shouldn't you go find the girls, r even get away from me as much as possible since your brother is out for my blood?" He asked.
The outlaw was silent for a moment, staring at the other male with a blank expression. "The girls will find me sooner or later. And I can take care of Knives if he becomes any more of a problem, You're defenseless right now, Nick, ya need my help." Vash said.
The hair on the back of the shorter male's neck rose, sending a shiver down his spine. Wolfwood pushed the taller male's arm off his shoulder "I'm not some defenseless cat. I can take care of myself." He argued.
Vash barked out a laugh, "Of course, you're not, and you're cuter than a car Nick." He complimented. Wolfwood felt his jaw drop open, eyes widened as the blonde drew closer. "I wasn't going to bring this up since you were too out of it to remember anything. But you apologized to me." He continued.
Swallowing thickly, the priest watched the outlaw slowly reach out and take Wolfwood's hand into his. "What do I have to apologize for?" He quizzed cautiously.
The taller male smiled softly, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, you said that you were sorry for making me worry about you, which is silly because I didn't mind nursing you back to health. You're my friend Nick, and friends look out for each other." He replied.
The black-haired male hummed softly. "Just friends, huh?" He muttered, cursing under his breath, and shook his head. Every instinct in the shorter male's body was screaming at him to abort and make a joke. Or even just cut the conversation off with a smoke, it would be so easy for him to walk away from Vash it was pitiful. The blonde would follow him until he knew Wolfwood was going to be safe,e which was why the priest loved him and hated him at the same time.
But a small part of the male wanted to take this chance; the priest didn't have very many things to himself when he was at the orphanage beside his adoptive brother. But that was destroyed by the church, Wolfwood couldn't count the reporters because they weren't on the same level as Vash when it came to likeness. Maybe Millie, but that was because the giant of a woman was also too nice and pure for her good. She was too much like Vash, and half of the priest felt bad.
All Wolfwood had to do was take the annoying blonde's hand and have a leap of faith. You think it would be easier said than done for him, but too many painful memories came to mind. Chewing the inside of his cheek, black eyes staring at their intertwined hands. "What if I didn't want to just be friends?" He asked, breaking the silence.
The smile on Vash's face grew, "I would like that too, Nick, but I don't wanna make you feel we're going too fast." The blonde said, rubbing his fingers along the other male's knuckles. "We'll go your pace, and I'm just happy to be around you, Nick." He continued.
Wolfwood inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling his cheeks heat up. A million thoughts were running through his head, squeezing his eyes closed, the shorter male tightened his grip around Vash's hand, lunging forward and quickly pecking him on the cheek. "Fine, but this is a trial run. Nothing more," He said quickly, looking away.
"Sure, whatever you say. Kitten."