#BUT AHHHHH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kumeko · 30 days ago

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A/N: For the @vashwood-anthology! I wanted to do a bit more of a comedic piece for Vashwood, though Trigun being trigon, angst still found its way in…This story fought me so much along the way, I wasn’t fully settled on how to end it and every time I reread the story I kept adding scenes.

Which is not a good thing with a word count. XD I’m not sure if I’m fully satisfied with it yet, but if I read it again…who knows how much more I’ll add. XD

I'm so glad I got to work with the amazing @wisedo for this piece! Their art is perfect and so comedically on point <3

…

Nicholas had a stalker.

Probably.

Leaning back in his plastic chair, his feet on a tiny fold-out table, Nicholas slurped loudly from his slushie as he studied his surroundings. Fortunately, the food court was packed with people, so no one was paying attention to him—

“Mom! He’s putting his feet on the table!”

“And if you act like that, Santa won’t be giving you any presents.”

—most people weren’t paying attention to him. Awkwardly, Nicholas put his feet down before anyone else wandered by.

For the most part, he was surrounded by strangers. It made sense: he was a traveller who hadn’t been in the city for more than a few days. It’d be odder if he had recognized anyone here. That was how it was in most cities he’d visited—Nicholas made his living as a travelling handy-man, an entertaining busker, an overly relaxed priest. Whatever paid the bills as he spent his days wandering from town to town.

His eyes landed on a familiar, spiky-haired blond.

Familiar. That was the problem here. While the man was scarfing down donuts like he was competing in an eating contest, not paying attention to Nicholas in the least, he was the epitome of suspicious. It was rare enough for Nicholas to meet anyone twice, let alone thrice, and this was the fifth time he’d spotted that particular hedgehog of hair.

Hence, he was ninety-percent certain he was being stalked.

This required investigation. Nicholas smirked as he noisily sucked his straw. With how sloppy the guy was, it would be easy enough to trap him.

“Dad, there’s nothing in his cup anymore!”

“Shh, honey, inflation’s hitting hard these days.”

…maybe he should find a more discrete place to capture the stalker.

-x-

Nicholas tugged his collar, trying to fan in a little air onto his neck. Most people would question why he’d take up buskering of all things in a suit, and they would be right. It was a stupid idea. He regretted it entirely. Between the heat and how it impaired his movements, it would have been better to wear literally anything else.

Unfortunately, all he owned were suits. At least he didn’t have a single tie, or he’d really be dying.

Flipping a dagger between his fingers, Nicholas put on his widest smile and called out, “I can hit anything!” After a pause, he added. “Great with daggers and funerals!”

It was a terrible sales pitch. He couldn’t really blame people for continuing to stream past him. His last few attempts were equally pitiful and the small white paper cup in front of him was as empty as ever. All it’d take was a little wind and it’d roll down the street, along with his last two quarters.

He’d need a more innovative speech. He’d need—

The blonde stranger was here too. Nicholas narrowed his eyes. Purposely ignoring his gaze, the stranger paced back and forth further down the street as he deftly juggled five balls. Once, Nicholas had done a stint as a circus clown and anything past 4 items was harder than it looked. The dirty hat in front of stranger looked just as empty as Nicholas’ cup.

Nicholas grinned. Maybe he could get two birds with one stone.

Slowly, he sauntered over, each step deliberate and slow. The blonde tensed slightly when Nicholas stopped in front of him, unable to completely mask his reaction.

So he did know Nicholas. Good. He didn’t want to accidentally harass a stranger. Nicholas called out, trying to keep the malice out of his voice, “Looks like you’re having just as hard a time as I am.”

Fortunately, the blonde didn’t pick up on his intentions. He glanced over his shoulder. Realizing no one was behind him, he stared at Nicholas in surprise. “Me?”

“Who else?” Nicholas rolled his eyes. If anything, judging by the bullet holes and dirt riddling the bottom of the stranger’s red jacket, he probably was having a worse time. While Nicholas had been chased out of a town or two, he’d never been in that much danger.

“Oh. Right.” The blonde chuckled and smiled sheepishly. He nodded, still juggling. The five colorful balls flew through the air like parts of a rainbow. “It’s a hard street.”

“It’d be easier if we worked together,” Nicholas suggested.

The blonde’s eyes widened slightly before he took the bait. Excited, he juggled faster. “Yeah! I’ve always wanted to do paired jugg—”

Nicholas smirked wolfishly before shouting, “Anyone want to see me throw a dagger at this guy?”

“—ling with—Wait, what?” The blonde froze and gaped at Nicholas like a fish out of water. Five balls bounced off his head like bullets. “You’re going to what?”

“It’ll be fine, I’ve done this before,” he assured his new ‘partner’. Already, a crowd had started to gather around them, mostly comprised of blood-thirsty children dragging their parents over. Even better; children were easy enough to entertain.

“It’s a challenge,” Nicholas said louder now, directed at the audience. He ignored the stalker’s pointed glare. ”I’ll put an apple on—what’s your name?”

“Vash,” Vash replied, forcing a smile when everyone stared at him.

“Vash’s head,” Nicholas continued. Now he had a name at least. “And then I’ll toss a dagger at it and try not to hit him.”

“What do you mean try!?” Vash shouted.

“It’s no big deal,” Nicholas whispered as he turned around. Digging in his knapsack, he pulled out an apple and tossed it at Vash. “Just make sure to stay still and it’ll work out.”

“You’ve done this before, right?” Vash asked, staring at the apple doubtfully.

Nicholas shrugged, unconcerned. “Once? I think.”

“Once?” Vash bit out. The audience had surrounded them at this point and there was no easy escape this time. “Wait, maybe we can find something else, less risky, like jugg—”

“People want to see knife-throwing.” Nicholas spun Vash around and shoved him forward. “Now, get a little further or people’ll think I cheated.”

It was like a scene from an old western: two men, twenty paces apart. Vash stood stock still, an apple on his head, his smile nervous as he watched Nicholas. For his part, Nicholas kept a hand on his waist, ready to draw his dagger, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the gleaming red skin of his target. Around them, a circle had formed. People murmured as they made bets on how many holes Vash would end up with.

A kid laughed. As though that was the secret signal he’d been waiting for, Nicholas quickly drew and tossed his dagger. The blade narrowly grazed Vash’s right cheek, cutting a thin red line, and to the man’s credit, he recoiled after that, the apple rolling off his head and landing on the sand with a soft thud as he clutched his cheek.

That was an act.

Nicholas had done enough scams to know when he was being played. There were many issues with Vash’s terrible acting, the biggest of which was the fact that he’d hadn’t flinched until after the dagger had missed him. Most people would have instinctively tried to dodge as soon as Nicholas had thrown the weapon.

Vash had known it wouldn’t hit him.

“That stings!” Vash yelped, gingerly petting the wound with the pads of his fingers. As he picked up the apple, he gazed teary-eyed at Nicholas. “You hit me!”

“Barely,” he replied, already twirling another dagger between his fingers as he waited for Vash to put the apple back in place. “It makes it more thrilling. The crowd gets a show.” He flicked another knife, this time grazing his ear. “So, why’re you following me?”

“I’m not!” Vash yelped as he dodged dagger number three. He jabbed at the apple that was miraculously still on his head. The crowd jeered, some of them yelling at him to just stay still and get hit. “The apple! Aim for the apple!”

“I am,” Nicholas lied, pulling out dagger number four. “And don’t lie—I’ve seen you before.”

“Really, you remember me?” Vash grinned stupidly before realizing what he’d just admitted. “Wait, I mean, I’ve seen one of your shows! I’m a fan!”

Nicholas scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he carefully held his blade between two fingers, his hand rocking back and forth as he aimed. If it had just been one show, he wouldn’t have recognized Vash at all. “Is that all?”

“It is!” Vash was a terrible liar. His eyes gave everything away.

Deliberately, Nicholas lowered his aim, the blade pointing at Vash’s crotch now. The crowd gasped expectantly. “You sure?”

Vash crouched and crossed his hands in front of his pants, tears forming in his eyes as he shouted, “I thought you were also going to the Octovern Busker Festival!”

Despite his fear, his voice had held steady. While it wasn’t the whole truth, it wasn’t a lie either. Nicholas sighed, relenting, and flicked his knife, sinking the blade into the apple.

-x-

The crowd had all dispersed, leaving behind a tin filled with stray coins, a nail, and two coupons. Nicholas grimaced as he shook the can. Nothing else fell out. Cheapskates. He glanced up at the very worn Vash. “So you’re lost.”

“Yes…” Vash rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile. He pulled out a crinkled poster from his pocket and handed it to Nicholas. “I’m not very good with directions.”

He sounded oddly proud of it. Nicholas rolled his eyes as he scanned the paper. He’d heard of the festival before. “And you didn’t think to ask anyone else?”

“Well…it’s embarrassing,” Vash admitted. So he knew that much at least. “I thought you’d also be going there…since, you busker.”

“And you couldn’t just ask instead of stalk?” Nicholas held out the handful of coins they’d earned. The people in this city were stingier than any other he’d been in. “I don’t even do that often—this barely paid for the apple.”

Vash gazed at the money, puzzled. “But it’s not about the money.”

Nicholas’s jaw dropped. “The hell it’s not about the money, money is—”

A kid ran between them, bumping into Nicholas. Nicholas caught a glimpse of the ragmuffin with her short, messy hair and dirt on her face as she mumbled an apology.

“Kids these days—” His hand felt light. Nicholas stared at his now-empty palm. His other hand instinctively patted his also now-empty pocket. Immediately, he jumped to his feet and swore. “Fuck.”

Slow to catch on, Vash stared at the girl as she turned a corner into an alley. “Huh?”

“She mugged me.” Nicholas sprinted forward. A suit was the worst thing to run in and not for the first time, he regretted his life choices. “GET BACK HERE!”

“But she’s so young!” Vash shouted as he chased after.

“It’s easier to slip unnoticed.” Nicholas barreled down the alley, catching a glimpse of the girl’s dirty shirt before she turned a corner. His armpits were damp, his pants complaining with each step, and he didn’t know if he could go any faster.

While he’d visited December once before, he’d never taken the side alleys before. It was like a maze of corridors back here, the streets getting narrower and grimier as the girl eluded his grasp. From the corner of his eye, he spotted several children poking their heads out of nooks and crannies, a hungry look in their faces that he had known himself long ago.

One kid stepped out of the shadows and threw a rock at him. “Leave her alone!”

Nicholas dodged. “She’s with you?”

“I think I’m even more lost,” Vash panted, almost running into the kid as he caught up. The startled kid yelped, stumbling over his feet. Vash grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. “Woah, careful there!”

“Let go of me!” The boy shouted, terrified. When Vash’s grip proved too strong to escape, he screamed, “HELP!”

The girl had almost vanished down a side street but pivoted at the sound. Fear in her eyes, she ran back. “Darian! Don’t hurt him!”

Perfect. Nicholas snatched her as she bolted past him, wrapping an arm around her waist and hoisting her up before she could escape. “Gotcha.”

She squirmed, her flailing limbs hitting his chin and sides. “Hey! Let go of me”!

“Just gimme a moment.” Nicholas wiped the sweat from his forehead and rubbed his jaw. With some training, she’d have a killer punch. The girl was like a wildcat, and he almost dropped her reflexively as she struggled in his grip. Meanwhile her accomplice had frozen stiff in front of Vash, too scared to even make a peep.

“You okay?” Vash asked, crouching in front of the kid and peering up with concern. “Did you get hurt?”

“Leave him alone!” the girl shouted again, her struggles increasing.

Two street urchins. Orphaned siblings, most likely. Nicholas had been there before, had seen it before. “Don’t bit me, kid,” he warned as he released her before she could throw another stray punch.

Scrambling to her feet, the girl ran to her brother and yanked him away from Vash. It was like looking at a cornered cat. His wallet was still tight in her grip.

Nicholas sighed. “Just try not to get caught next time.” Vash and the kids stared at him. Rolling his shoulders to get the crick out of them, he added, “The next guy won’t be as soft as me.”

“Nicholas…” Starry-eyed, Vash covered his mouth.

“I’m not giving this back,” the girl hissed.

“Don’t,” Nicholas agreed. “You need it more.”

The siblings looked at each other, communicating silently, before giving him one last suspicious squint. Then they bolted, shoving past Vash and disappearing into the slums. Nicholas watched them before feeling a shiver run up his back. Turning around, he found Vash still giving him that awestruck stare.

“You’re a lot kinder than you act.” Vash smiled.

It was a nice smile. Nicholas shrugged. “I’ve been there before.”

“Oh.” For some unfathomable reason, Vash’s smile flickered, misery clouding his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it. “I’m better now,” Nicholas clarified. “And they can eat for a few days with what I had if they’re careful.” He turned his empty pockets inside out. “More than I can say for me. I need a drink.”

-x-

A drink did not solve his problems. In fact, they just made them worse—even if he hadn’t lost his wallet, the tab he’d opened was bigger than the amount he’d lost. For a twig of a man, Vash drank like a bottomless pit. No one would call Nicholas a lightweight, but even he was starting to feel it.

Maybe they could wash dishes here for the next three months to pay it off. There’s no way Vash was carrying enough to cover both of them.

Nicholas ran his finger over the rim of his mug. He shot Vash a disbelieving look. “How did you get nearly get mugged three times on the way here.”

“Oh, I…” Vash chuckled as he took a sip, his ears turning a fetching shade of red. “It’s a gift.”

“A curse,” Nicholas corrected. He elbowed Vash. First there was the little old lady crossing the street, then there was the kid with a cat stuck in a tree—Nicholas was certain that if they ran across a mother with a stroller, the baby would try to rob Vash next. “And that wasn’t a compliment. Do you really have to help everyone you meet?”

“Whyyyy not?” Vash slurred, putting down his now empty glass.

“Another one!” Nicholas ordered loudly, as though they weren’t at the bar with the bartender right across from them.

As though the bartender hadn’t been shooting them increasingly irate glares as the night wore on. “I should just cut you off,” she said.

Probably, but it was a matter of pride that Nicholas didn’t finish before Vash. “Another one!” he repeated, louder.

“Me too,” Vash cheered. He seemed drunk, but it was an act. It had to be. His hands were too steady to be anything but sober.

Disgruntled, the bartender reluctantly grabbed two more glasses. “Fine, but last one. Then you’re out.”

It reminded Nicholas of a song. “You don’t have to go home—”

“—but you can’t stay here,” Vash finished.

They stared at each other before bursting into laughter. Nicholas wiped the tears from his eyes. “You’re not half bad, for a stalker.”

“You’re amazing.” Vash clinked his glass against Nicholas’s.

Maybe he hadn’t been joking when he’d said he was a fan. And he certainly wasn’t dangerous in the least—no one could get attacked that many times without losing their temper, yet Vash had shrugged off everything that had happened him the past few hours. Whatever Vash was hiding, it couldn’t be anything bad.

“You’re exaggerating,” Nicholas muttered, downing his drink.

‘I’m not,” Vash replied quietly, oddly somber, oddly serious.

Before he could ask, the bartender slid a check between them. She tapped on the bill with a chewed-up fingernail. “Let’s settle up.”

Nicholas stared at the big red numbers. That felt like one too many 0s. Could he argue that? He had to argue that.

Before he could say anything, Vash reached for the bill, a smile on his face. “I’ve got this.”

It was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion. Vash’s hand reached into his pockets, his fingers fumbling in the space. He paled as he checked his other pocket, then his shoes, then the small sack by his feet. “It’s gone.”

Nicholas had a sinking feeling that the little boy from earlier hadn’t been as shell-shocked as he had acted. “What is?”

“My wallet…” Vash laughed awkwardly. “You think those kids took it? Guess they picked a better target, just like you asked.”

The bartender leaned forward, a dark glint in her eyes. Despite her short stature, her muscular arms screamed danger. “So you can’t pay?”

-x-

Nicholas had been poor before, had been penniless for years, but somehow he’d never felt as broke as he did right now, sitting on a bench in the middle of a park. The bartender had practically turned them into indentured labour for the next few weeks. His hotel had kicked him out. All he had was his knapsack now.

“It’ll be warm tonight,” Vash hummed, rocking back and forth as he leaned back and stared up at the stars. “Clear skies too.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” Nicholas watched him from the corner of his eye. All he had was a knapsack and this stranger who refused to leave. His head was killing him. The hangover was going to be even worse tomorrow. And he didn’t want to imagine how sore his body would be come morning.

He hated sleeping on benches.

“Better than a rainy, cold night,” Vash pointed out, sounding like he was speaking from experience.

He was right, though Nicholas didn’t want to admit it. “Marginally.”

Vash chuckled, shoulder bumping him. “You just want to complain.”

He was right about that too. Nicholas side-eyed him; in the short time he’d known Vash, he hadn’t seen a more cheerful man. “You’re too up-beat about this. You’re drunk.”

“Am not,” Vash retorted, kicking his feet. “And there’s nothing wrong with being happy.”

Nicholas should be angrier about this. He’d drank more than he realized too. “Sounds drunk to me.”

Vash shrugged, looking up at the night sky once more. “The stars are nice tonight.”

Nicholas peeked up. With the clouds hiding the moon, it was easier to see the billions of lights twinkling in the dark sky. “I guess.”

They sat there quietly before Vash muttered, “Sorry.”

That caught him off guard. Nicholas cocked his head. “Huh?”

��I…I messed things up.” Vash mumbled, slumping forward on his bag-turned-pillow. His expression was serious. “You should be sleeping in the hotel.”

“You are drunk.” When Vash didn’t say anything, Nicholas bit his cheek. Perhaps Vash had been too happy earlier, but now that he was somber, it bothered Nicholas more than he cared to admit. “It’s fine. It’s not like you’re the only one who was mugged.”

“But—”

“Seriously, it’s fine.” Nicholas propped his chin on his hand, studying Vash’s profile. Nothing about him felt like any of the other travellers Nicholas had met. “I’ve been in worse messes; it comes with the territory. Is this your first time?”

There was a long pause and Vash nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t travelled this far alone before.”

That didn’t surprise him. “Any special reason?”

A longer pause. “…I’m paying back a debt.”

“Debt?” Scrounging up spare change was perhaps the worst way to pay back anything. “And you’re doing this?”

The longest pause yet. Just when Nicholas was about to ask him again, Vash snored.

-x-

Nicholas had a head-splitting headache. His heart was beating a mile a minute and there was a strange queasy feeling in his stomach. Even his stiff back and sore neck couldn’t make his hangover go away and he’d run out of cigarettes. Nicholas rolled his shoulders, trying to get the crick out as he roamed the city.

He needed money.

Actually…Nicholas glanced at the blonde man walking beside him, looking as scruffy as he felt. The day-old stubble gave him a roguish appearance and he didn’t want to know how they both smelled.

They needed money.

Nicholas stuffed a hand in his pocket and his fingers grazed a crumpled piece of paper. Pulling it out, he unfurled it to reveal the poster Vash had given him earlier. Buskerfest. There was no better way to make money. And with a month left to go, there was plenty of time to find a way to get there.

Tapping on the paper, he turned to Vash. “Were you serious about this?”

“Uhh….” Vash stared at the paper owlishly before registering the question. “Yes?”

“Why are you saying it like a question?” Nicholas shot him a pointed look.

Vash rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “I mean, yes.”

It still sounded like a lie but he’d take it. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

Vash lit up, his smile reaching his eyes. He leaned forward, clasping Nicholas’s hands tightly. “Really?”

Vash was far more excited than Nicholas had expected. He winced as his head throbbed, the lingering headache reminding him of just how much of a mess they got into last night. If he never drank again, it would be too soon. “Don’t think we have much of a choice here or we’re going to owe that bar for the rest of our lives.”

-x-

When they’d agreed to work for the bartender’s sister’s niece’s dog’s father-in-law’s burger joint as waiters, Nicholas knew what to expect. Hectic rush hours, annoying guests, a manager who was perhaps expecting them to dine and dash again.

His main worry now, however, was that they might end up owing more.

Or rather, that Vash would make them owe more.

“Do you really have to carry the plates like that?” Nicholas asked, a headache forming at the memory of the past few hours. It hadn’t been his first time as a waiter; he’d done more than his fair share to earn train tickets and their ilk.

However, it had been his first time seeing someone carry six plates and two cups. Vash only had two arms (Nicholas had checked. Twice) and yet he had insisted on carrying everything in one go. Precariously stacking the dishes in ways that resembled a wobbly tower, Vash had dashed from table to table, narrowly missing dropping a meal each time.

Maybe it had been a ploy to stay in this town for the rest of their lives. After all, they couldn’t leave if their debt eclipsed the moon.

“It’s quicker that way,” Vash replied as he eyed the empty pizza boxes around them with pursed lips. “Did you order pizza again?”

“There’s nothing else cheap to eat.” Nicholas shrugged as he plopped onto the singular clear spot on the couch. Between the odd jobs and the buskering, they’d managed to book a motel for the week. Shabby as it might be, it still had four walls and a roof and that was more than they could hope (afford) at the moment.

He gave a side-long glance at his partner. Despite his complaints, Vash hadn’t dropped anything. “I’m amazed you didn’t break anything.” Maybe they could sell it as a miracle and rack up the big donation bucks instead.

Vash grinned as he set down the empty pizza box. “It’s a gift!”

“Again, not a compliment.” Nicholas rubbed his forehead. The more time he spent worry about this, the less time he had to work on his own tasks. And in case Vash lost his ‘gift’, he’d need the money to repay every dish. “Whatever. You still got your money?”

“Yep!” Vash patted his pocket, checking it once more. “I can’t believe that old man’s cat actually tried to fish it out of my pocket.”

“I think I’ve seen a whole new world to scamming because of you.” And it was true, each hour they encountered a new trick. It was impressive, if tragic. Vash was like a magnet for trouble.

“Sorry.” Vash sat down beside Nicholas, slumping against the side of the couch as he sighed. “I’m just giving you more trouble.”

“You are,” Nicholas agreed whole-heartedly. “Work on it.”

Another sigh. Vash slumped even more. “Sorry.” Before Nicholas could say anything, he sprang up once more, like a dandelion after being stepped on. “I’ll do better tomorrow.”

“You really don’t let anything get you down, do you?” Nicholas shook his head, smiling wryly. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or annoyed.”

Vash stared at him with a growing grin. “You’re impressed?”

Annoyed. Annoyed was clearly the right answer. “You really only hear what you want to.”

-x-

Nicholas sighed as he lit the last of his cigarettes. Hopefully he’d be able to get some after today’s work. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

Vash buttoned up his jacket as he trailed after him. “You should get breakfast.”

Nicholas gestured at the stacks of pizza boxes in the room—the joint next door wasn’t just cheap, it stayed open late, and he’d never realized how hard it was to find a place like that before now. “There’s cold pizza if you’re hungry.”

“We had that yesterday.” Vash gave him a pitying look. “And the day before that. And the day before that.”

Nicholas bristled. “Hey, don’t make me out to be some sort of pizza addict.”

“You deserve so much better.” Vash sighed. Immediately, without even a second of hesitation, he whipped a donut out. “Here, have a donut!”

Nicholas had seen through plenty of magic tricks during his travels, but he had no idea where the sugary confection came from. A pocket? His sleeves? Another dimension? He stared at it, then at Vash. “How’s that better than pizza?”

Immediately, he regretted the question. Glowing, Vash grasped his chest with his free hand. “Taste. Size. Perception.”

And then he waxed poetic about the donuts until their shift at the restaurant that night.

-x-

They’d been living together for over a week, in debt for slightly longer, and Nicholas didn’t even want to guess how long he’d been stalked. Yet, despite it all, he could count on one hand just how much he knew about his chaotic roommate. It wasn’t like him, to not ask a question for this long.

It was strange.

And dangerous. As they chewed donuts (Vash had taken to alternating their meals between pizza and donuts, despite Nicholas’s protests) on the ratty couch, Nicholas said, “You suck at buskering.”

“Ouch.” Vash glared at him. “I’m not that bad.”

“You can’t survive on the streets. You are lucky the customers like you at the restaurant,” Nicholas continued, as though he didn’t hear him. He licked the jelly on his thumb as he studied the blonde man. “So, why are you doing this?”

“That…” For the first time since he’d known him, Vash looked uncomfortable at the question. He nibbled his donut, as though he’d find an answer in the powdered treat. After a few minutes, when it was clear that Nicholas wouldn’t let it go, he mumbled, “Well, I…”

Nicholas craned his neck, unable to catch his mumbled words. “You what?”

“I had…a job.” Vash stared at his donut, refusing to meet Nicholas’s eyes. “I fucked up.”

Ah, a firing. He’d met more than one vagabond with the same story. It wasn’t a surprise it was hard for the blonde to talk about it. Nicholas shrugged. “I’m not surprised.”

“I fucked up, badly,” Vash repeated, his hands trembling. “I keep trying to fix it and I can’t.”

Keep. Present tense. Perhaps less a firing and more a suspension? Yet again, it was unsettling to see Vash like this, looking small, looking pathetic. “But you’ll keep trying.”

“I have to,” Vash whispered, turning to stare him in the eye. “I have to.”

The intensity of his gaze took Nicholas’s breath away, though he couldn’t understand it. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. “You’ll do better tomorrow,” he said, echoing Vash’s words from days prior.

Vash froze before breaking into a big smile. “Exactly. What about you?”

“Nothing that…dramatic,” Nicholas said with a shrug. “After I left the orphanage, I didn’t have anything I really wanted to do or anything tethering me anywhere so…why not? Travelling’s interesting.” He looked up to find Vash staring at him with watery eyes. Nicholas scowled. “Don’t give me that look, I’m fine.”

“But—”

Nicholas flicked his forehead. “I get to see new things and meet new people. There’s nothing to complain about."

“Still…it sounds lonely.” Vash dropped his donut and leaned forward on the couch. His sticky hand covered Nicholas’s. “What about friends?”

He was too close. Nicholas pulled back but Vash’s hand held firm, keeping him anchored there. “I’ve got a few in each town.”

Vash pressed, “Anyone you’re close to? Anyone you miss?”

“Not really.” Nicholas looked away. “It’s enough to visit every now and then.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Like I said, I’m fine.”

Vash bit his lip thoughtfully before reaching up and patting Nicholas’s head. “You had it tough.”

It was oddly comforting. He wanted none of it. Nicholas swatted Vash away and pulled back. “That’s why I don’t get pickpocketed like you.”

“Hey!”

-x-

There were few ways to get to Octervan, and all of them involved passage on a ship. And boarding a ship required money; tickets were expensive even for the lowest class.

They needed two tickets.

It took a lot of scrimping, but Nicholas smirked as they stood in line to board the ship. “That was close; almost thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“I knew we would,” Vash replied with completely unfounded confidence, his hands on his hip as he craned his neck to stare up at the towering ship.

“We just need to be back in a week.” Nicholas glanced over his shoulder, half-fearful that the bar had sent goons after them. Technically speaking, they weren’t supposed to leave the city, but Nicholas had never been one to let technicalities stop him. “Or else we just never come back here.”

“That might be easier,” Vash admitted.

“It’d be far easier,” Nicholas agreed. “Should we?”

They turned, staring at each other, before bursting into laughter. Vash wiped the tears from his eyes as they joined the boarding cue. “You really think she’d let us go like that?”

“I think she has military connections.” Nicholas shivered, remembering the glint in the bartender’s eyes, the absolute certainty she had that they’d be paying. “Don’t even want to imagine who she’d send after us.”

“You don’t think she’d send someone now?” Vash whispered, squinting suspiciously at everyone passing by.

“No? I hope not. You can’t get money off a dead guy.” Nicholas nudged Vash as they reached the front of the line. He pulled out his id. “Get the tickets ready.”

“What if she makes us close to dead?” Vash reached into his pockets.

“We still won’t be able to pay.” Nicholas smiled winningly at the woman holding a clipboard in front of them. She flushed as she took his id.

“And the tickets?” she asked, handing it back.

“Vash—” Nicholas cut himself off.

Panicked, Vash patted all of his pockets—once, twice, thrice. He took off a boot, turning it upside down and shaking it. A feather fell out. Quickly, he took off his pack and knelt, opening every zipper and searching. “Just…It’s here, just a second. I know it’s here.”

Had he been pickpocketed? Again? Nicholas had a sinking feeling that the answer to that was a resounding yes.

“Are you serious?” he groaned.

“I’ll find it,” Vash replied desperately, emptying out his bag.

Behind them, the line murmured impatiently. The crew member attending them frowned, suspicious. There wasn’t much time to salvage this, if he even could. Forcing his nicest smile, Nicholas leaned forward and purred, “I don’t suppose you’re hiring?”

-x-

Nicholas had always had terrible luck, but he’d more than learned how to compensate for that with charm. While the woman hadn’t looked amused, he and Vash had gotten hired and that more than counted as a win in his books.

The work they had to do…not so much. Nicholas grunted as he lifted yet another heavy crate—whatever the first class passengers were packing, they definitely didn’t need. Instead of crew, the ship needed a herd of elephants to move all of this.

“You’ve got this,” Vash encouraged, swaying back and forth as he carried his crate. Despite his big show of effort, he wasn’t breathless in the least.

It was like drinking all over again. The bastard kept restraining himself. There were few things that Nicholas hated more than being pitied. Unfortunately, he was too tired to bring it up.

“This is your fault,” Nicholas jabbed, supressing a groan as he forced his feet to waddle forward a few more steps. He’d always considering himself strong until now. Yet, the other crewmates didn’t look half as tired as he did—was he getting sick? He couldn’t be the only one struggling here.

“See you at dinner?” a woman asked as she passed by with an empty trolley.

“Of course he will be!” a man said, clapping Vash on the back. “He promised me a drink.”

“I said I’m broke,” Vash whined. “Why do you think I’m here in the first place?”

“What’s a little more debt?” the man smirked.

Despite Vash’s pout, he happily agreed when they told him to meet them in the mess in two hours. The pair gave Nicholas a short nod before ambling on. While Nicholas knew how to play up a crowd, Vash took it to a whole new level.

“When did you get so chummy?” he asked.

“Huh?” Vash cocked his head, like a dog trying to find a scent, before giving up and shrugging. “I dunno, but you should join us.”

“I have to. Can’t let you get us into even more debt.” Nicholas shifted the crate in his hands, his arms burning from the strain.

“I don’t eat that much,” Vash protested.

“We have two very different concepts of much,” Nicholas grunted. Two more people waved to Vash as they walked by. It was just like when they were waiters all over again. “You’re good at making friends.”

“It’s not that hard.” Vash grinned, his ears red. “If you know how to smile.”

“…are you trying to pick a fight?” Nicholas glared at him. Or at the crate, to be precise—these things were way too big. While his hands were by no means delicate and soft, his roughened skin rubbed against the coarse wood.

There was a pregnant pause before Vash jested, “So you don’t know how to smile?”

“Just wait till we put these down,” he growled.

Vash chuckled and picked up the pace. So he had been faking his exhaustion, the bastard. Nicholas clicked his teeth as he glared. What else had he been hiding? And how long would it take to find out? Maybe Nicholas was more tired than he’d realized, because for some reason, he was thinking of the future. Beyond all of this. Despite all of the hard work, despite the pickpocketing and the endless money loss, this hadn’t been his worst trip.

It had been kinda fun, even.

Maybe, even after the trip, after the debt, they could keep travelling together. Like this. Chaotic and exhausting yet extremely—

Nicholas lightly bumped his head against the crate. What was he thinking?

-x-

Why had he been thinking of the future? The present was what mattered and in the present, his bad luck reared again. Half-way through the journey their ship had come under the attack of pirates. Ducking behind several crates in the hold with Vash, Nicholas groaned. “Seriously?”

Vash peeked up. A bullet whizzed by and he immediately flatted himself back down again as wisps of blonde hair fell. “I thought pirates were extinct?”

“Tell that to them.” Nicholas pressed a hand to his forehead. It might have been better if he’d just had a gun or a weapon to defend himself with. Instead, all he could do was cower and hope that they’d make it out of here in one piece.

“Think it’d work?” Vash rubbed his chin, seriously considering the suggestion.

“No!” Nicholas hissed. He scanned their surroundings. There was a door just ahead of them, leading up to the crew’s quarters. With all of the loot scattered about, the pirates wouldn’t bother following them there.

The only problem was that there was no cover between here and the door.

Following his gaze, Vash caught on. “On the count of three?”

Bullets flew overhead as some of the more…zealous crew members fought with the pirates. No one was paying them enough to protect the cargo. Nicholas shook his head. “We won’t make it.”

“Trust me.” Vash grinned, giving an encouraging thumbs up.

Nicholas gave him a flat stare. “You lost our tickets. And your wallet. And—”

“That was that, this is this,” Vash said sagely. It was the least reassuring thing Nicholas had ever heard.

He ran a hand through his hair, his nails scraping his scalp. It wasn’t like they had any other choice. With a groan, he agreed. “On three.”

“One.”

Nicholas shifted into a crouch, ready to spring forward.

“Two.”

Vash shuffled a little closer and adjusted his glasses.

“Three.”

Bullets rained down as they ran forward. Had someone noticed them? He wasn’t sure, the shots seemed to come from everywhere. Luckily, nothing hit them as they hurled themselves at the door. Vash reached first, yanking the metal door open like it was made of paper.

“Hurry!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Nicholas shouted. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a pirate pop out from behind a crate, his gun aimed at Vash. He’d never considered himself a hero, but his legs moved before he could think and he shoved Vash through the door as a bullet tore through his chest.

Vash slammed onto the metal floor with a hard thud. Immediately, he pushed himself up. “Nicholas!”

“Fuck.” Dazed, Nicholas touched his chest. His fingers came away, blood red.

He was bleeding.

“Shit!” Vash stumbled as he turned around, dragging Nicholas though the door. His hands fumbled with buttons on Nicholas’s jacket.

“This isn’t good,” Nicholas groaned. His chest burned. Black encroached his sight. Was he dying? It felt like he was dying.

“No, no, no, this isn’t supposed to happen,” Vash mumbled, distraught. “I’m supposed to protect you. You’re not supposed to die, not like this. Shit, why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Nicholas muttered honestly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. We…we still have…” He grunted as blinding pain tore through him. “We…”

Vash’s face twisted. “You can’t die.” He tossed off his glasses and slicked back his hair. His skin started to glow.

Maybe he really was dying, because Nicholas could swear he saw white wings sprout from Vash’s back.

“You won’t die.”

-x-

“Keep your human safe.”

This was the first and only rule a guardian angel had. Keep your human safe. Happy, if possible. But safe, above else.

It was something that Vash repeated to himself as he sat cross-legged in front of a pool of water, focusing intently on the still surface. Images flickered across it, scenes depicting a six-year-old boy meeting with his friends, playing pranks on his sister, getting scolded by his parents.

Nicholas Wolfwood was a mischievous boy, but a well-meaning one. Vash had heard about his type before. With age, he’d soften his tricks, maybe even become a charismatic leader. Probably. There was the possibility of Nicholas going down the wrong path entirely and becoming a roguish villain, but Vash refused to let that happen.

The scene in the water changed yet again, showing Nicholas leaning against a window, his hands gripping the windowsill as he searched through the night sky. Disappointed, he sighed. “I wish it’d snow.”

It was a small, simple desire. Vash could grant it in a heartbeat without impacting the greater scope of things. Perhaps Nicholas would look back at this moment as what led him to staying on the right path.

“As you wish.” He smiled.

-x-

The snow became a blizzard, burying the village for three days.

-x-

A wish for better grades led to an entire class failing. An ask to win the lottery led to a broken leg and settlement claims. Even wanting a book caused a fire at the library.

Vash clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm as he stared into the pool. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. His first assignment and he’d somehow messed up. Every. Single. Time. He hadn’t even succeeded at the basic keep your human safe rule.

No, he’d done the very opposite of that, especially now. Vash bit his cheek as he watched the newly-orphaned Nicholas wipe his eyes in front of a gravestone, his tiny shoulders trembling, an older man kneeling beside him and offering words of comfort.

The mangled wishes hadn’t directly caused this, but Vash couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was still responsible. Had he overcompensated again? Was this a side effect, a balancing of fate, where one fortune caused a misfortune? He couldn’t verify it either way and somehow that was worse, the not knowing, the uncertainty, the niggling feeling that he’d scarred Nicholas in irreparable ways.

This wasn’t right. None of this was supposed to be happening.

Nicholas shook off the older man and ran off, bawling as he cried for his parents.

Vash reached out. His fingers brushed the pool and the water rippled, disrupting the image. From here, he couldn’t even comfort Nicholas.

From here.

Vash stood up. He could still fix this. He could fix everything.

-x-

Going to Earth had solved nothing. Close up, it should have been easier to see the impact of his wishes, to make sure he used his powers in moderation, yet…the string of bad luck continued. Even worse, Nicholas had started living like a nomad, wandering from city to city, tied down by neither friends nor family.

The glittering promise of childhood remained unfulfilled—no degrees, no career jobs, not even long-lasting relationships.

And now, here they were: Nicholas on a hospital bed, a labyrinth of tubes hiding his pale body, a monitor beeping as it tried to keep him alive.

Sitting next to the bed, Vash grabbed Nicholas’s hand. It was clammy. Nothing at all like the warm man with a sharp mind and sharper tongue. Clasping his hand, he pressed it to his forehead.

As bad as everything had been leading up to this, this was the worst possible outcome. Nicholas was dying. Slowly, but surely.

You’ll do better tomorrow, right?

He couldn’t let that happen.

He refused to let that happen.

-x-

“You said you owed a debt, right?” Nicholas had said the first night on the ship, sleeping on the bunk above Vash. Not that it would have changed things if he’d been on the same level; in the dark, it was impossible to see anything. Their tiny, shared cabin afforded a single, tiny oval-shaped window. The moon was too weak to illuminate the sea outside, let alone the room inside.

“Yeah.” Vash’s mouth went dry. To you, he couldn’t say. Instinctively, he knew that if he told the truth, everything here, everything that was and wasn’t between them would collapse. And while once he might have been fine watching from afar, now…

After talking to Nicholas up close, after laughing and working with him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to the shadows. He wasn’t sure if he could.

But fortunately, Nicholas didn’t ask for the details of the debt. “Knowing you, it’s impossibly large.”

A life-debt, so to speak. Vash’s shoulders slumped. “You could say that.”

“Knowing you, it’s not entirely your fault either,” Nicholas continued.

If only that were the truth. “No, it’s mine.”

A sock landed on Vash’s face and Nicholas grumbled, “I was trying to be nice. Anyways, need some help paying it back?”

That caught Vash off-guard. He jerked his head up, but the metal frame and mattress between them was impenetrable to human sight. Was Nicholas joking? He sounded serious. “After all the money you owe?”

“We owe and yeah.” Vash could picture Nicholas shrugging. “Why not?”

Vash bit his cheek, scrutinizing the dark bed frame above him seriously. “Are you sick?”

Another sock dropped on his face. “You want to do this alone?”

No. “I should,” Vash whispered. It was easier to admit this, in the dark, with no one to see, to judge. He did not like being alone.

No, more than that, he just didn’t want to leave Nicholas.

“Should is not want.” Nicholas retorted. “Just…think about it.” There was a long silence before he added, “And it probably isn’t entirely your fault.”

Vash covered his face. His victim shouldn’t be comforting him. “You said that already.”

“I know. And I’ll say it again if I have to.”

-x-

“It was my fault,” Vash said now, in the hospital. It was impossible to deny it. “I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes, reaching deep into himself. There was still one last trick to try: if he shared his essence, if he poured his powers into Nicholas, then maybe, just maybe, he’d at least not have failed him.

-x-

Nicholas stared at his hands, then at Vash. His impassive expression chilled Vash to the bone; there was nothing warm in the way he studied Vash. It was like he was looking at a stranger, rather than a friend. Then again, after all that had happened, perhaps Vash should just be happy that he wasn’t glaring at him with hate.

Vash wrung his hands as he stood by the bed awkwardly and waited for Nicholas to say something. Anything. The silence was unbearable.

“Guardian angel?” Nicholas repeated.

“Yes.”

“Like what you hear about in stories,” Nicholas pressed.

Vash nodded.

Covering an eye with one hand, Nicholas squinted at him. “That explains the halo.”

Was that a joke? There were traces of fatigue in Nicholas’s voice; maybe he was still groggy from the pain-killers. Vash bit his lip. “I—I failed. I’m sorry.”

Nicholas shifted his hand to the other eye. “Yeah, never heard of a guardian angel getting protected. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Vash flinched and hung his head, unable to defend himself. It was true, it was all true. “ You shouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“Look, I didn’t…” Nicholas sighed, his hands on his lap. “It’s not like I wanted to get hurt.”

“I would have been fine,” Vash rambled on. “You should have protected yourself.” He stopped himself—this wasn’t what he’d come here for. “…why did you do that?”

Surprised, Nicholas stared at Vash. His jaw tensed before he shook his head. “I…I don’t know. It’s not like I knew you were,” he gestured at Vash, “and I…I just moved.” His hands clenched the bedsheet. “I saw the bullet and I…just moved.”

“You…” Vash locked eyes with Nicholas and swallowed as an unfathomable expression crossed his face. What did moved mean? What did that expression mean?

What did he want it to mean?

Nicholas smiled lopsidedly. “Guess I wasn’t ready for this journey to end just yet.”

Vash didn’t know what to say to that. Unable to take it anymore, he broke his gaze and turned to the window. Despite himself, he whispered, “…me neither.”

“It doesn’t have to. We can—”

He didn’t want to look at Nicholas, didn’t want to know what expression he made. The raw hope in his voice was painful enough as it was.

“Next time, it could be worse,” Vash interrupted. He was a failure of a guardian angel, unable to guarantee Nicholas’s protection in any way. Not from pickpockets, not from debt, and now not even from bullets. Maybe he shouldn’t have been assigned to him.

Maybe he should never have signed up for this in the first place.

But it wasn’t too late to fix this. If he went back, got someone else assigned, then maybe, just maybe, the rest of Nicholas’s life could be saved. “I should go.”

“Go?” Perplexed, Nicholas shifted on the bed, trying to get out. “Go where—wait, where are you going?”

Vash ignored him, making a beeline to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob. “Sorry for everything.”

“I said, wait you fuc—” Nicholas yelped as he fell out of bed.

“Nicholas?” Vash turned around and something jerked him back, an invisible chain yanking him back and away from the door. He tumbled, falling hard on the floor. For a moment, he lay there, dazed, staring at Nicholas as he lay on the ground nearby.

They stared at each other.

Nicholas croaked, “That hurt.”

Vash patted his neck. There was nothing there. Yet, he could still feel the sensation of the chain, the tightness of a collar. Like—realization dawned and Vash swallowed hard as he stared at the space between him and Nicholas. It couldn’t, it shouldn’t—there was a thin, silverly thread of light connecting them.

A chain, of sorts.

“Shit.”

Nicholas snorted. “That’s not a very angel-like thing to say.”

Vash wasn’t listening. He tugged on the end of the chain connected to his chest but it refused to budge. With a groan, he pressed his face flat on the floor. “I fucked up.”

“Even less angel-like.” Nicholas pulled himself up to a seated position. Wiggling his toes and fingers, he shrugged. “Doesn’t look like we’re in danger and aside from a few bruises, I’m feeling pretty good right now. Everything seems accounted for.” A thought struck him and he tugged the waistband of the pants the hospital had provided and peeked inside. “Yep, all accounted for.”

“It’s…” Vash lifted his head, looking balefully at Nicholas. “I tied us together.”

“Buy a man a meal first,” Nicholas quipped. When Vash didn’t smile, he stilled. “What does tied mean?”

“Our souls are connected now,” Vash mumbled, wincing with each word. He couldn’t even rescue someone properly. “I’m…not sure exactly what this will do. I’ve heard rumours. It might make you live longer. It might change you.” He tugged on the chain. “But we can’t go too far from each other.”

“Oh. Literally tied.” Nicholas’s expression didn’t change as he stroked his chin, staring at the door, contemplating the situation. Was he disappointed? Angry? Vash could only hope it wasn’t hate.

Vash winced. Just how many times could a person screw up? “I…I’m sorry.”

“The door isn’t that far.” Nicholas struggled to get up, grunting from the exertion.

When he started to fall, Vash lunged forward, catching him. “Careful!”

“Got you.” Nicholas smirked as he clutched Vash. Despite his loose grip, Vash was stuck, feeling more tied than he had by the chain. “Thanks.”

“I, I didn’t do anything worth thanking,” Vash mumbled stiffly. This was what he was supposed to be doing all along in the first place.

Nicholas shrugged and Vash could feel it—every gesture, every breath, every heart beat. Every sign that said I’m alive. “Still. You saved me.”

He relaxed, allowing himself to relax in the cage of Nicholas’s embrace. Burying his head in the crook of Nicholas’s neck, Vash mumbled, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“That’s the thing about travelling. Nothing ever goes to plan.” Nicholas half-laughed, half-wheezed. “It’s fine. I wanted to travel with you a little longer anyways.”

“It won’t be a little,” Vash warned.

“Even better.” Nicholas pulled back till their eyes met. “I thought I preferred going solo but that’s not the case anymore.”

And he shouldn’t just accept this, shouldn’t just melt into Nicholas’s embrace like this, but Vash had never been good at doing what he should do in the first place. “Nicholas…”

“And…” Nicholas’s smirk turned dark, his grip tightening. “When you tried to leave, you almost saddled me with all of the debt.”

Vash froze. “I…”

“Don’t worry. I know how you can make it up to me.”

Maybe he should try the door again. The chain had to be longer than he realized. It had to be.

#vashwood #trigun #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash the stampede #fanfic #this story kept growing longer and longer #and i kept expanding every scene #i do like how it improved with that #but ahhhhh #i have to resist the urge to keep padding it more

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