#cuz vash refuses to let himself have nice things without feeling guilty about it

[idsfantasy]

Summary:

At one year old, Vash knew he aged faster than humans, and had tried to come to terms with the fact that he would probably die well before any of the humans he met.

He didn't anticipate just how wrong that assessment was.

Vash knew that, as Independents, he and Kni were different from humans. Like any Plant, they had gates (though Vash still hadn’t figured out how to use his, if he even could at all), and had special markings that only appeared under certain kinds of light or when using their powers to talk to other Plants. It just so happened that, according to Rem, the twins looked and acted like they were relatively normal, eight year-old, human children.

Which, of course, was part of the whole ‘different from humans’ deal given the two were only a year old.

Not that it bothered Vash much. He’d heard about human infants from Rem, and he was more than happy that he could actually understand and enjoy the life he was living. He couldn’t imagine having to eat just mushy baby food for so long! He might actually understand Kni’s dislike of eating if they had to do that.

But even if Kni teased Vash for not acting like a Plant, it wasn’t as though Vash didn’t know he was one. It just didn’t really feel like it mattered.

At least it didn’t until one night at dinner, Kni looked up from his largely untouched plate, and asked, “Rem, since we age faster than humans, how long are we going to live?”

“I don’t know, Kni,” Rem said. “Dependent Plants have longer lifespans than humans-”

“But you said we’ve been growing faster than humans,” Kni interrupted, “and the dependent Plants don’t seem to age at all.”

As the implication of Kni’s statement set in, Vash felt his fork slide from his grasp and clatter to his plate. Eyes wide, Vash whipped his head up from his meal to face Rem, who inhaled sharply, her smile strained and fading.

“I don’t know,” she said again. “The only real reference for long-term Plant aging we have are the dependent Plants, but-”

“But we’re different from them, and the bulbs keep them alive! What if being independent is why we’re growing so much?” Kni said, and Vash could hear the note of worry in his voice. “Are we just going to age fast forever until we die in a few years?”

“Wait, what if we never get to see the planet? What if we die before we can even wake anyone up?” Vash’s voice cracked as he added his questions to his brother’s, his heart pounding faster and faster as thoughts of the future flew through his mind. “And what about you? If we don’t stop aging fast, we’ll die, and you’ll be alone-”

“Oh, boys…” Rem quickly stood from her seat, made her way around the small table to stand behind the two Independents, who immediately turned to face her as she rested a hand on each of their shoulders. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I promise, it’s going to be okay. Sometimes…sometimes even humans don’t live as long as others, but that doesn’t mean that the time they do have isn’t precious. No matter if you live as long as a human or less, your lives have meaning. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Then, Rem pulled both Vash and Kni into a tight hug, but not before Vash saw the start of tears in her eyes.

After that conversation, Vash had consigned himself to the fact that he and his brother likely weren’t going to live as long as the humans on the ship.

And then they discovered Tesla.

And then there was The Fall.

And then Vash was found by the crew of Ship 3. 

A member of the crew, Luida, recognized him as an Independent (though she was the only one who seemed to know what that was), and Vash was locked in a cell by a crew that didn’t know what to do with him. He didn’t know what to do with himself either. He didn’t eat, except for when the hunger got too fierce, and marked the days that went by on the wall. Ticking down the days to where his rapid aging may end his life before the hunger or the humans did.

Vash had spent nearly a third of his life in the cell before he was able to earn their trust by saving one of the Plants, and finally Vash knew that he had a purpose. He couldn’t generate electricity, or water, or food, or any other useful resource, but he could at least make sure his sisters were healthy enough to do it in his stead. He started helping other crashed ships with their Plants, and the crew of Ship 3 became something like a family. 

Then his role in The Fall was discovered and Vash ran. He found Kni, only to lose him once again, along with his left arm. A left arm that Brad, the very man whose accusation of betrayal caused Vash to run, replaced as an apology.

“It’s a bit clunky, but it should work as a temporary solution. Just let me know if it has any issues,” Brad said as he watched Vash flex the fingers of the prosthetic. “We’ll need to replace it in the next few months after all, what with you sprouting up like a weed any time we look away.”

Vash let out a soft laugh at that. “Guess I’ve hit my growth spurt.”

“You only just hit it now?” Brad scoffed and shook his head. “What do you call the last two years then?”

Vash looked down at the new arm and felt his smile dim slightly. He didn’t like to think about his age. When it was just him, Rem, and Kni (Knives?), it wasn’t as though Vash had any other kids to look to as a reference other than his twin, who was growing up at the same rapid pace as him. 

Now, at Home, there were human children out of cryosleep. Not many, but enough to where Vash was very aware of how he went from being something close to their peer to something nearly adult before any of them hit puberty. Sure, his aging was apparently slowing down, something Luida confirmed from what she remembered about Independents, but in spite of whatever relief he felt at knowing he wasn’t going to be dead in a few years from his body’s aging, he still felt the separation.

As an Independent, and one that had human needs at that, he was already too human to be a proper Plant, but his aging made it clear that he was too much of a Plant to be human either. The kids didn’t mind too much when playing with him, less than the teenagers who knew he was a little kid only a couple years ago did anyway, but it made something in Vash’s stomach twist. He knew that the only people actually his age on the ship were barely grown up enough to start preschooling, but whenever one of the kids he’d been playing hide and seek with only a year ago started treating him differently because he looked older than he used to, Vash felt as though it created another layer of distance between them. 

“You’ve got a point there,” Vash finally said before the pause could get too long. He looked back up at Brad, making sure to fix his smile more firmly on his face. 

“Of course I do,” Brad said with a smirk, though…was that a hint of concern in his expression? “Anyway, we’ll get you fitted for a new one in a couple months. I should be able to figure out some of what works and what doesn’t by then. Can’t have you go telling people I made you that thing only for it to not work. That would be bad for my reputation.”

“Of course,” Vash said, his smile becoming a bit more genuine.

By the time Vash turned six, he was taller than most of the humans he met, and the majority of the people he ran into recognized him as and treated him like a full grown adult. A young one, sure, and he’d overheard plenty of comments about his childishness, but in his defense, the other kids his age were much more childish than he was.

In any case, he looked like an adult, acted (mostly) like an adult, and could handle himself on his own. As such, rather than having Brad take time away from important projects at Home to chaperone Vash on his trips to heal the Plants, Vash began making the journeys between crash sites and budding towns on his own. He still stopped by Home occasionally, but as he met more and more people in more and more places, the gaps between his visits grew longer and longer. 

With how much traveling he was doing, it was understandable that he hadn’t really noticed. It wasn’t as though he kept track of time, as he was mostly busy trying to get to dying Plants before Kni did, and with him not staying in one place for long, it wasn’t as though Vash had any long-term references to compare himself to.

Because of this, Vash didn’t notice just how much his aging had slowed until he returned Home and realized that the same kids he’d played with when he’d first been let out of the cell weren’t kids anymore.

In fact, they looked older than him.

“Vash, is everything okay?” Luida asked when she noticed him standing frozen in the hall, watching one of his former playmates walk by. 

Luida herself was showing signs of aging, something Vash hadn’t really paid much attention to with how he wasn’t often around to notice in the first place. Vash had expected that he would look older than her by the time her hair started to go grey. 

Vash turned to face her and asked, “How long has it been since The Fall?”

“It’s been about twenty-seven years,” Luida replied, though her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, highlighting the wrinkles Vash could see beginning to form on her forehead. “Why do you ask?”

Vash inhaled sharply, and looked over at his reflection in the clean metal of the ship walls. Maybe it was because he was similar enough to humans in how he looked and acted, but when he’d found out his aging had slowed, he had assumed that it would eventually just reach human levels. Looking at himself now though, his face looking just the same as it had when he’d turned six years old, he realized that he never should have assumed that to be the case.

A dependent Plant’s maximum natural lifespan wasn’t completely known. They could be pushed beyond their limit, causing their energy to dry up, but even then Vash knew that every Plant on this planet was well over 200 years old. He knew that Plants lived much, much longer than humans.

Vash was different from the dependent Plants, but maybe Vash wasn’t different in this.

Maybe Vash wasn’t going to die before the humans he’d come to consider family. They’d die decades, maybe centuries, before him.

“Vash!”

Vash flinched away from the sudden pressure on his shoulder, and his head whipped around to face Luida. He processed her outstretched hand and concerned expression the same instant he realized just how heavily he was breathing. 

Vash took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Luida’s concern remained, though she lowered her hand and smiled back at him. “That’s alright, Vash. But why did you ask how long it’s been? Is there something bothering you?”

Vash didn’t bother to hide his frown, and looked back down the hall. If his suspicions were correct, Vash could be around for decades, centuries beyond any human’s natural lifespan. He loved his sisters, but he couldn’t connect with them the same way he could connect with humans, he was too Independent for that, and Kni…

Kni wanted to destroy humanity, and Vash just couldn’t go along with that. Life was precious, human and Plant. No one had the right to determine who should live or die. Kni however, clearly disagreed. Kni caused the ships to crash, mercilessly killed the humans he considered a plague, and while Vash hadn’t caught him in the act, he had heard of Plants going missing from some developing towns shortly before he arrived to help his sisters who were in pain, dooming the towns to deterioration. Bodies sliced to pieces were left in the kidnapper’s wake, and Vash couldn’t think of anyone other than Kni who would do something like that. Kni was the only living being on this planet who could perfectly relate to Vash, but also he couldn’t relate at all.

Vash had taken some degree of solace in his connections to humanity, but in time, the people he loved would be gone. He had already lost Rem, and it had nearly torn him apart. How could he possibly handle centuries worth of this?

“Vash, please,” Luida’s voice cut through his thoughts and Vash snapped back to reality. She had moved to stand in front of Vash, both hands placed firmly on his shoulders. He wondered when she had done that. “Please, let me help you.”

It was then that Vash noticed he was crying. Blinking furiously, he hastily scrubbed the moisture from his face and broke eye contact with the older woman.

“Vash, please tell me what’s wrong,” Luida insisted, her voice brimming with worry.

Vash took a deep breath. “I don’t think…I don’t think I’m aging at all anymore.”

Luida’s eyes widened in realization, and the pressure from her hands on Vash’s shoulders let up slightly. “Oh.”

Without thinking, Vash found his hands curling over hers, the added pressure on his shoulders anchoring him and his thoughts. He returned her gaze and took a shuddering breath as his train of thought threatened to spiral into worst case scenarios, centuries into a lonely, empty future.

“What if I have the lifespan of a dependent Plant?” Vash whispered, and he felt the burn of tears behind his eyes start up again. “I don’t want to die early, but I can’t…I don’t know if I can handle outliving anyone else.”

He didn’t have to mention who he’d already lost for Luida to understand. The crew of the former Ship 3 may have survived The Fall, but she’d had a knack for empathizing with others as long as Vash had known her, and Luida was well aware of how much Rem meant to the Independent. She had seen just how badly it had shattered him, and had eventually helped him pick up the pieces.

Melancholy moved over the older woman’s face, though it wasn’t long before it was accompanied by resolve. “I have been considering making use of cryosleep, partly because it would allow me to work on my projects with the flora over a longer scope of time without having to worry about dying of old age before they can grow. If I did, I would leave instructions for the others to wake me up if I’m asleep when you come by. While I can’t speak for Brad, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t willing to do the same. It would have its limits, but do you think that would help?”

Vash stared at her, eyes wide as he processed Luida’s words. “You would do that?”

Luida smiled. “I suggested it, didn’t I?”

Then her grip on Vash loosened. Vash instinctively leaned forward, chasing the touch as her hands pulled away, but he didn’t have time to second guess his body’s movement as he quickly found himself pulled into a firm hug. After a brief pause, Vash slowly, but tightly wrapped his arms around Luida in return, bending down slightly to bury his face in her hair as his tears fell and his breaths heaved into sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Vash gasped, though he couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. “I shouldn’t ask you to-”

“Vash, no,” Luida murmured, her voice soothing his fraying nerves as she held him tighter. “You don’t need to apologize for this.”

Vash disagreed. If Luida did use cryosleep to match his lifespan more closely, she’d just be joining him in leaving the people she knew behind if they didn’t do the same. She would outlive her friends. Her children. All for the sake of a broken Independent who couldn’t bear to be alone.

But Vash didn’t say any of that out loud. He couldn’t deny her that choice, just as he couldn’t deny the relief he felt because of it. So instead, Vash buried the guilt beside the rest, and let himself cry in Luida’s embrace.