Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Guided Steps ❯ Reunions ( Chapter 18 )

`Found ya.'

 

At last he'd finally reached it. Wolfwood approached the lone homestead that seemed to stand defiant against the desert's sweltering oppression.

 

He knew without a doubt that Vash was inside. He could just… feel it.

 

The car had given up quite a ways back, forcing him to hike the last three iles in the blistering heat of the afternoon. Under normal circumstances three iles was a lazy stroll down the lane, but his injuries made every step a grueling trial.

 

Still, he'd made it this far in record time. Driving too fast for the terrain had stalled the car out in the first place, not that he'd had much choice in the matter. Three hours into the drive exhaustion forced him to stop the car to rest for just a moment. A waiting nightmare sucked him in as soon as his eyes closed. Fear and loneliness crushed down on him until he awoke gasping for breath. He started the car once more, glancing at the clock as he did so.

 

Only three minutes had passed. His fear for Vash had taken over completely after that and he drove hard and fast, forsaking any other attempts at rest.

 

He stumbled yet again in the soft sand and cursed as a lance of pain shot through his gut. Soon after a wet feeling spread out along the bandaging in the front. `Shit. Ripped something open. If it doesn't kill me Luida will.' Her warnings had been needless. He knew good and well he hadn't healed enough from the fight with Legato to make this kind of journey, but there was no help for it. Finding Vash was the only thing on his mind so he forced himself to keep going.

 

A figure sitting on the porch of the house drew his attention. Through the distortion of the heat off the sand he could barely see that it was Vash. His assessment was confirmed when the person saw him, stood and started toward him. A relieved smile began to curl his lips and he forced himself to move a little faster.

 

When Vash came closer the haziness of the heat waves faded, and with it went Wolfwood's smile. The Vash's wavy figure resolved into the sharp image of Knives.

 

Knives was close enough to see the play of emotion across Wolfwood's face. Dealing with his own emotions was new but he remembered this from not long ago. Seeing the light of hope die a hard death in the eyes of any human used to please him greatly. Despair followed, another one of his former favorites. Now the pleasure in it had fled, leaving a sickening pain in its wake.

 

An adrenaline surge allowed Wolfwood to move at almost his usual speed; pistols free of their holsters and trained on Knives before he even realized his ex-servant was armed. Not that it would do any good. Knives could slice him to ribbons any second now. “If I've come this far to die, I'm taking as big a chunk of you with me as I can.”

 

Knives swallowed hard trying to think. Since Vash's outburst he'd known this moment was coming, had spent hours dreading it and dwelling on it, but he still had no idea what to say. If only Vash were there to tell him what to do, how to even begin to make amends…

 

He finally decided now wasn't the time for explanations. He just held his open hands out at his sides. “You're, ah… you're safe here,” he said, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt.

 

Wolfwood's eyebrows drew down in confusion as he tried to figure out what kind of game Knives was playing at. “Safe? Bullshit. There's nothing `safe' about you. What are you doing out here? No, scratch that. Tell me where Vash is, and I mean now,” Wolfwood snarled, hand tightening on the trigger. `Why the hell hasn't he killed me?'

 

“Vash is inside there,” he nodded toward the house. “He's unconscious, but he's alive.”

 

Wolfwood ran through every curse he knew trying to figure out what the hell was going on. No doubt that this was Knives, despite the dark hair that had replaced all but a tiny sliver of blond at his left temple. But he spoke differently, even moved differently, and his eyes… Those were the biggest difference. They held no trace of that all-consuming hatred that had once defined him.

 

Knives held still to wait Wolfwood out, meeting his eyes and letting him see and judge the change Vash had wrought in him. The screen door to the house slammed shut behind him and he saw horror creep over Wolfwood's face.

 

A round-eyed, dark haired little boy came running out as fast as he could. In Wolfwood's mind visions of his family soaked in blood overlaid the scene before him and he took aim for Knives' head, desperate to stop the inevitable. But it was too late; he couldn't get a shot off because he kneeled and the kid was…

 

…standing in front of Knives?! Oh, god, not a child, don't make me watch him kill a child, please, no…

 

“What're you doing?” the boy yelled at the stunned priest indignantly. “Don't threaten Jacob-san!”

 

Upon hearing the name a story Melanie had told him came to mind. Jacob, the brother who stole everything from his twin. Stole everything, and later regretted it so much he changed his life, apologized and made amends.

 

`Oh, fuck. Is this… for real?'

 

The pistols slipped from nerveless fingers to splash into the sand. Knives stood and put a hand on the boy's head, smiling kindly. “It's all right, Calito. This is Nicholas, he's a… a friend. We were just playing a game. Why don't you go back inside and see if your Dad needs any help with dinner?”

 

Calito jumped to the task at speed, his trust in this… fiend plain to see. Wolfwood's strength drained from him and he dropped to his knees. A child… is defending Knives…? What the hell was going on? Somehow, the world had changed around him and he didn't know anything anymore. Nothing at all, except…

 

“Vash,” he said so quietly Knives had to come closer to hear.

 

“Maybe, ah… Maybe I should try and explain first-”

 

“Either take me to Vash or kill me now. I think … yeah, I'm too fucking tired to really care which right now.”

 

“All right,” Knives said after a moment's hesitation. If he had managed to break Wolfwood into this kind of docility years ago - or at any time - it would have filled him with satisfaction. But now he knew everything about it was wrong. “Come inside. I'll take you to him.”

 

Wolfwood got up slowly, painfully, no longer caring if it showed. When Knives started toward the house he followed in a daze. The slim hope of seeing Vash propelled him forward even as his steps became more and more difficult to take.

 

Knives led him into the house, turning to study him with nervous eyes every so often, but Wolfwood didn't even seem to be aware of his scrutiny. Alerted by Calito Jenk rushed forward when he appeared but Knives stopped him short with a piercing look and a small shake of the head. Jenk nodded slowly and moved back to the kitchen with Calito. Wolfwood never even noticed the near interruption.

 

When they finally reached Vash's room Wolfwood heaved a shuddering breath, leaning against the doorframe to support him against the dizzying wave of relief that swept through him.

 

The soft, cream-colored bed sheets covered Vash's body to the waist, giving Wolfwood a view of newly formed scars. The only other change was his hair, now as dark as his own framed against the stark white pillow. The shock of blond that remained at the crown of his head was a little over three times the size as the one left to Knives.

 

“He's really all right,” Wolfwood murmured.

 

Knives nodded. “He's been asleep like that since I brought him here. We both used up a lot of energy and I think he couldn't handle the strain. He's only come out of it once and when he did… he called for you.”

 

“No rest for the wicked, eh Tongari?” He spoke quietly, with a small smile and Knives wondered if he'd been forgotten.

 

“You're injured, aren't you?”

 

Wolfwood looked down at himself, finally remembering the blood that was seeping slowly out of him. Somehow he'd managed to forget about the hole in his gut. “Oh. Yeah.” It didn't seem to have penetrated the thick bandaging, but maybe Knives could smell the blood on him. Predators could do things like that.

 

“Since you know he's safe now, how about letting me take a look?”

 

Though mental shock and exhaustion had blunted his senses, everything within Wolfwood rose up in rebellion at the mention of having Knives' hands on him. “Touch me and I'm putting you through a wall, even if it's the last thing I ever do,” he growled.

 

“I wouldn't… I mean, ah…” Words were so useless. Even a child knew that, and Knives struggled desperately. “What about someone else, then? The man who owns this place is a doctor. Maybe he could help-”

 

A small surge of angry adrenaline kicked in and gave Wolfwood just enough energy to maintain focus, however briefly. “I don't know what the hell is going on here but as far as I know you're screwing my mind again and this is all some crazy trick to hurt Vash somehow. So until he wakes up you stay the fuck away from me,” he growled.

 

Knives felt the words like a blow. The venom in Wolfwood's words hurt, but not nearly so much as the knowledge that he'd methodically earned every bit of it. He couldn't hold that angry gaze and dropped his stinging eyes to the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists in time to the ache in his chest. “I… won't hurt you,” he managed. He took a step back without another word and Wolfwood quickly lurched past him into the room where Vash slept. He barely made it the five steps to his bed.

 

Too exhausted to do otherwise he dropped heavily into the rocker at Vash's bedside. “I'm here now,” he sighed. His body - taxed almost as far beyond its limits as his mind - slumped forward, falling partly over the bed with a groan and he was asleep before he had fully settled. Vash made his first movement since his brief and violent awakening days before: his arm flailed out at the same moment Wolfwood fell across the bed. His hand fell just a few inches short of Wolfwood's own.

 

Knives walked the few steps to the chair, watching the two trying to connect with each other even in sleep. He pulled the covers back before turning to Wolfwood, sliding one arm under his knees very slowly just in case his earlier threat transcended unconsciousness. Once he was sure there would be no violent reaction he braced his other arm around the priest's shoulders and lifted him with ease.

 

He placed Wolfwood into bed next to his brother carefully, mindful of the potentially numerous injuries that he couldn't see. Vash curled into him immediately, murmuring something into his neck too softly for Knives to hear.

 

He frowned when he realized the ache inside him was stronger than before. He covered the two with the sheets and left the room, despairing of what it would take to lessen the feeling as he closed the door behind him and walked away.

 

***************************************************************** *********************

Wolfwood fought off any semblance of a waking state for as long as he could. Judging by his internal clock only a couple of hours had passed, not enough for him to recover much of his strength. Finally the feel of fingers lightly stroking along his jaw gave him an incentive to rouse himself. He sighed; it felt good enough for him to ignore the fact that his stomach hurt a lot more than it should. He moved his head into that gentle hand and was rewarded with a more substantial touch. “Nice,” he murmured.

 

“These dreams just keep getting more and more real,” Vash sighed. “Stay with me this time?”

 

“This ain't a dream, Tongari. I told you I'd find you.” The hand stroking his face slowed and finally stilled. He opened his eyes and came face to face with pure joy shining from the blue. He opened his mouth to ask why, but Vash's lips on his stopped the words.

 

Surprise gave way to an almost profound sense of peace. The tenderness of it made Wolfwood shiver and he finally began to feel clean again for the first time since he and Vash had parted ways.

 

With one last, almost chaste press of their lips together Vash pulled away again, his lips curled into a smile that showed both happiness and relief in equal measure. “You're really here.”

 

“Yeah, well… You saved the whole fucking world, and maybe Earth too. I figure you've earned a double batch of donuts.”

 

“You first. Donuts later,” he said, nuzzling into Wolfwood's neck as the other man chuckled. “How long was I out?”

 

“I dunno. Three days, maybe four. Long enough for you to force march me across half the damn desert. Talk about a slave driver.”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Vash blinked at him in innocent confusion and Wolfwood couldn't bring himself to explain. “Oh, just… Never mind,” he sighed.

 

Vash happily made himself comfortable once more. “Hey, your skin feels cool. I think we need another blan… ket…” he trailed off, frowning as something caught his eye. He sucked in a breath and reached slowly for the collar of Wolfwood's shirt where a shadow stood out against skin that was a still a few shades paler than its usual tan.

 

He pulled down on the material and it was enough to reveal the extent and shape of the dark bruising around his neck.

 

Finger marks. But if Legato was close enough to choke him…

 

`Oh, please no. Let me be wrong. Please.'

 

“Nick…?” he asked quietly. “What... um… what happened?”

 

Wolfwood met his eyes but said nothing, letting his silence speak for him. Vash swallowed hard and reached out to begin undoing buttons. So intent on his task was he that the feel of Wolfwood's hand closing gently around his wrist startled him.

 

“Don't look. Just don't look, okay?” He touched the side of Vash's face with his other hand, dark eyes strangely compassionate. Vash closed his eyes and tears squeezed out at the corners. “Don't look,” Wolfwood whispered again with a slight shake of his head. “You don't have to look. Two days, maybe three and there won't be anything left to see.”

 

When Vash was finally able to open his eyes again and speak he did so with equal quiet. “I have to know.” He waited and Wolfwood let his wrist go, allowing his hands to continue their trembling progress. The buttons were easy to undo, and the pants and boxers slipped easily off. The shirt was more difficult, requiring Wolfwood to sit up to slide the thing down his arms. It hurt him, Vash could tell, but he bore it without complaint.

 

Vash didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this. This was simply… an abomination.

 

In Vash's opinion Wolfwood had the most perfect body in the known universe. Legato had turned it into a monument to suffering. Healing gunshot wounds, scratches, cuts and gouges and bandaging on either side of him that spoke of a grievous injury underneath… if Vash didn't know what to look for he'd have missed what Wolfwood thought he didn't need to see. Mottled, yellowing bruises that no fight should have caused. On his hips, around his ankles, inside his thighs, at his shoulders and all the way around his wrists and neck. An animal… only an animal could have done this and the proof of that lay before him in the form of a vicious bite mark at the back of his guide's left shoulder. It had been hard enough to break the skin.

 

Vash was no fool. He well knew how dangerous his own anger could be. To someone in command of vast amounts of energy simply losing one's temper could have disastrous consequences. And yet… someone had taken the man he loved, mounted, bitten and fucked him like a dog in the dirt.

 

What else could he do?

 

His right hand clenched tightly and he was only distantly aware of the warning burn thrumming through his arm. “Was it like this the first time?” Vash demanded in a hoarse whisper. After a few seconds he realized Wolfwood had no intention of giving a reply and that further fueled his anger. “Answer me, Nick. I had to pass by your room every time I left the inn. If I had just stopped, just kicked your damn door open like I should have…”

 

“You would have seen a lot worse than this. Is that enough, or do you need to hear more?”

 

The anger flooded him so quickly that Vash drew in a sharp breath and his eyes snapped shut. It felt so good, the way it rushed in and took away the sting of pain. Power sang through him in a way he'd never let it before. Promises of punishment, revenge, blood, death to the one who'd harmed Wolfwood-

 

“Legato is dead, Vash. Who are you going to hurt?”

 

Vash growled in annoyance because that meddlesome voice, that distracting voice bothering him with trifling matters deserved an answer because he loved that voice. “Anyone,” Vash hissed. “Everyone, I don't care. No more threats. No more danger. Even if I have to bring this world down in flames I'll never let you be hurt again.”

 

Wolfwood knew the signs of Vash losing himself to an immense power; he'd seen it twice before. Those times had been terrifying. Now though, he was no longer afraid. He knew Vash. Knew that no matter what had happened with Knives, nothing could have changed him so drastically as to turn him into a murderer. If he could just slap Vash in the face with that fact…

 

“All right,” he agreed. “Knives is around here somewhere. Why don't you start by killing him? It probably wouldn't take much.”

 

Yes, of course, that made perfect sense. He could feel Knives in the house. Wolfwood was right, it wouldn't take much to finish him off. Why not start there? No one left alive was more deserving. Power gathered within him and prepared to strike and it felt so damned good.

 

Wolfwood could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up, rising with the charge in the air. But he simply sat, strangely calm in the presence of an infuriated plant.

 

Suddenly the sick grin slid off Vash's face. The tension in the room broke with an audible snap and Vash's expression crumpled.

 

Wolfwood smiled to himself. `At least some things are the still the same.' Tears gathered in Vash's eyes and fell as he cried silently. “Damn,” Wolfwood said, moving forward. “I was really hoping you'd do it.”

 

It startled a chuckle out of Vash. “Shut up, shitty priest.” Wolfwood touched his fingers to Vash's cheeks and wiped the wetness away. When Vash finally looked him in the eye he leaned close enough to kiss him. Vash's lips were rigid against his for a moment before they yielded with an obvious hesitance. Wolfwood rewarded him by deepening the kiss until Vash brought his own arms to wrap carefully around his waist. When the blazing heat in Vash's right arm cooled to something more normal Wolfwood pulled away with a sigh.

 

“Done with your little temper tantrum?”

 

Vash snorted. “Don't compare my righteous fury to a hissy fit.”

 

“You're pissed off and you want to beat the shit outta somebody. Believe me, I get it.”

 

“Well, if you understand then you could at least indulge me a little bit.”

 

“Giving in to the rage once makes it easier to do it the next time. No way am I gonna let you turn into what Knives was. `Specially not using me as an excuse.”

 

“You came back from it,” Vash said softly, remembering the raging storm of suffocating rage that had pressed in on him when Wolfwood had allowed him into his mind.

 

“It ain't like I enjoyed going through life with all that shit on my back. It was just… fuel to keep going. If I hadn't held onto it I wouldn't have survived. When I killed Legato I used it all up and I don't want it back. I'm tired of being angry. I don't want to cry about what he did, and I don't want to live in it. I just need it to be finished. Can you do that? Can you let it be over?”

 

“I… don't know. But if that's really what you need… I can try.”

 

“Good. I won't ask for more than that. Now just shut up for a while,” Wolfwood sighed, wearily resting his head on Vash's shoulder. “I want to know how you ended up here, and what the hell you did to Knives, but it can wait.”

 

The creeping wetness under the bandage drew Wolfwood's attention once more. He was sure he should mention it, but Vash's hand came up to bury itself in his hair and it was so relaxing he decided it could wait. There, sitting up in Vash's arms he had almost dozed off when he heard it.

 

“I love you.”

 

It was so quiet, just a whisper past his ear and his heart started thudding a frantic rhythm in his chest. Now fully awake, he argued with himself over whether or not Vash had actually spoken. Eventually his special brand of logic led him to the only answer he could afford to entertain and he buried his head in Vash's shoulder with a harsh chuckle. Vash frowned. “Nick?”

 

“Nothing. Sorry. Just losing my mind again.”

 

“Nick.” Vash pushed him away just enough to look into the dark eyes. “I love you.”

 

“You, ah… what?”

 

“Is it so hard to believe?” Wolfwood's eyes were so wide, so full of doubt that it broke Vash's heart to see. “Never mind. Stupid question. It's taken me so long… I'm sorry.”

 

Wolfwood just stared into his eyes, searching. The sincerity he found there in the deep blue began an inescapable loss of control.

 

Gentle, feather-light kisses landed on his cheeks and they weren't enough. The next time those soft lips landed near his mouth he turned his head and met them with his own.

 

Wolfwood's mouth crashed into his own and Vash was momentarily stunned at the change. But he knew Wolfwood's body, craved its responses and couldn't help answering in kind. His guide's fingers clutched desperately at his shoulders, pulling Vash closer to him. Vash sought to aid him, circling an arm around his waist and sliding him into his lap. As soon as Wolfwood's weight settled a small cry of pain broke over him like ice water and the spell for Vash was broken. `It's only been three days at the most. He's still hurting from Legato.'

 

Despite the pain Wolfwood rocked his hips forward. His naked arousal pressed fully against Vash's own through his pants and he groaned long and low at the sensation. He managed to disentangle himself with difficulty. “Nick, hey, we have to stop.”

 

The words didn't register at first. All Wolfwood knew was that Vash was pushing him away, taking away the one thing he needed most and never thought he would have. In that moment, another spike to the gut would have been less painful.

 

Wolfwood looked at him and Vash was struck speechless by his wounded gaze. “You're not ready for this yet,” he finally managed. “You need more time to heal, Nick.”

 

He heard Vash this time, but he was talking about things that didn't matter. Three words softly spoken had destroyed all of Wolfwood's remaining defenses around his heart, and Vash's actions had lodged a knife in it. Even now he was moving away, putting space between them and he couldn't go back to that, to being an island unto himself.

 

`What did you expect, Wolfwood?' he thought bitterly. `How could he ever love you…?'

 

Vash was still looking at him sadly, speaking words of love and waiting and caution that should have been comforting in their concern but instead shot rejection through him with every sound.

 

The cold moved in, clawed at him. Vash's voice was distant and he remembered Luida's warning about his injuries. But it didn't really seem important now. He was tired of hoping, tired of hurting inside and tired of fighting.

 

Vash saw him shutting down and his mind raced trying to figure out what had just gone wrong. “I love you, Nick. I just don't want to hurt you.”

 

“What the hell do you call this?”

 

It was quietly muttered, an afterthought but that's all it took for Vash to realize what was happening. Several curses later he verbally backpedaled as fast as he could but Wolfwood ignored him. He just lay down, curled in on himself and tried to still the shivering in his body.

 

Vash's warm hand fell gently on his shoulder. The searing heat felt good on his skin but he knocked it away. Vash cared, but it wasn't enough anymore. He needed much more than that and could no longer bear to accept anything less. “Just leave me alone,” he said softly, sounding more drained than anything else.

 

The room was silent after that, and he held his breath until Vash's departing weight shifted the mattress. The door clicked shut and the sound echoed in his ears.

 

***************

Hmm… Knives seems to be in shock. I wonder what'll happen when he finds his balance in all these new emotions. The same can kinda be said for Wolfwood. Should be interesting!