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greetingfromthedead · 7 months ago

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Ghost of You (SingleDad!Vash x Dead!F!Reader)

Plot: Your death haunts Vash for years, filling his dreams with nightmares, but for his twins, he will put on a brave face and do whatever it takes to make their childhood a happy one.

Series: Not a series per se, but a continuation of Stormy Night

Pairing: SingleDad!Vash x Dead!F!Reader

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: post-Trimax (minor spoilers), no use of y/n, death, angst, funeral, widow Vash, single father Vash, kids, childcare

Word count: 3.6k

Author's Note: Seems like my only goal in life is making @biancalattei cry. But you brought it on yourself. This is a touch more lighthearted than the previous one, but still, it's mostly pain and should be enjoyed with a healthy side of sad music. that's just my opinion.

"Hold on. Just hold on. You will meet the babies. You have to. We have our whole lives ahead of us. We will be a family. We will see them grow up. You and I will get through this together. Just hold on." Vash's voice has lowered to a whisper as he presses his face into your hair. "We will make it through this storm."

This can't be happening. He clutches you tightly, his arms wrapped around your unmoving body. The moment your grasp on his human hand loosened, he knew that something was terribly wrong, so he did all he knew and pulled you closer. It is just the two of you in the empty room. Vash's ears refuse to hear the voices of the nurse and midwife; the cries of the children are drowned out too. The howling of the wind is nothing more than a faint whisper. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart.

"They will run around the house, and we will play hide and seek until the sun goes down," he continues to whisper to you, the words slurring together where sobs want to escape. "Our home will be filled with laughter and sunlight. And we will live happily ever after. We will see to it that they never have to feel the hardships we did. You are my beautiful wife. I love you more than words can express. You have to hold on."

Vash repeats the same things over and over again, begging you to stay with him, to hold on for a moment longer. He holds on to hope until the moment the midwife speaks the truth, which he couldn't accept. You are gone. You never got to meet your children, the twin babies you had looked forward to meeting all these months. Anything he might try to say get drowned out by his sobs. Tears stream down Vash's face as he presses his cheek against the top of your head. The only sound in the room is his heart-wrenching cries of grief. He rocks back and forth, still clutching your lifeless body and holding you in his embrace. This cannot be true. How could you be gone? This has to be a lie, an illusion, a nightmare.

Vash cried in disbelief and grief. He hoped that dawn would never come because he is incapable of facing the rest of his life without you, no matter how long or short that might be. If the day breaks, it would mean that tomorrow has arrived, and he would have to confront reality without you by his side. He knows that he can't bear that thought. The screaming sobs scratch his throat and echo throughout the clinic, a haunting reminder of the void you left behind.

Vash suddenly sits up in bed, covered in sweat, and he wipes the tears from his face. It's still dark outside, and in a way, he is glad for the hungry cries of the babies in the other room, for they woke him up from the nightmare that, sadly, is a replaying memory. He swings his legs over the edge of the mattress and pushes himself up with a grunt. He is alone in the house with the twins. Luida went back to Home to take advantage of the cold sleep, and Milly and Livio returned to their own house too. They still visit during the day to make sure everything is alright and to help out with the twins, but Vash has now completely stepped into the roles of both mother and father.

He is still half asleep as he drags himself to the kitchen to prepare the milk bottles for the twins. The cries make his gut twist painfully, but he unfortunately only has two arms and can't comfort both of the twins at the same time while preparing their meal. He tries to hurry and finally manages to settle into the recliner with both the children to feed them. He thinks back to before he lost his powers, before his hair turned raven. Back then, he was able to do everything effortlessly, and while he got tired, he didn't get as exhausted as he does now. The hunger didn't hurt him as much either, and he barely noticed the sticky heat. Being truly human is tiring, but he has no choice but to brave through it and keep pushing forward, both for the children and you.

Things have settled into a rhythm; the first few months were the hardest, but now the twins just need to be fed once during the night. Vash tries to remember what he and his brother were like at that age; they grew up rapidly, and while he admired Rem for raising two kids by herself, he realized just how different human babies are. He was already speaking at that age and walked around by himself, while there was a long way to go until his darlings will start to crawl.

The little girl settles nicely into the crib after the diaper change, but the boy remains fussy. Vash holds him gently, with the baby's head on his bare shoulder. He bounces the twin lightly and taps on his back, but the cries don't stop. Vash paces around the room, shushing the child to settle him down, but nothing seems to be working. Suddenly, he hears laughter from the crib under the window. Vash goes closer to look at the little girl, and as he turns to her, the boy quiets down. The baby on her back still giggles, looks past Vash to the wall behind him, and reaches out her hands. The baby in his arms starts giggling too, but as he turns to look behind him, there is nothing but a chest of drawers filled with baby stuff. There are no toys or funny shadows in sight. As he keeps looking, the boy gets fussy again, and Vash carefully turns him around. He calms down immediately.

"What is going on?" Vash mumbles to himself as he settles the baby into his crib. Both seem content and start to yawn soon after. Their eyes largely remain fixed on something on top of the piece of furniture.

Is that really you? Part of him denies the possibility loudly. You don't look like that. Your skin is vibrant, your eyes are bright, and your smile warms his heart. The woman in the coffin resembles you, but her eyes are closed, her expression is neutral, and her skin is dull. He was never supposed to see a sight like this. You were supposed to outlive him in every scenario. How can he bury his beloved wife? How can he accept that once the lid is placed over your resting body, you will be lowered into a deep and dark grave, and he will never lay eyes on you again?

He keeps his blurry gaze on you, as if waiting for a miracle. Vash isn't sure if he has stopped crying since the day at the clinic. He doesn't see the crowd of mourners around him. It is just him and the coffin you lay in. He dreads the moment he has to say goodbye. The pain of loss feels like a physical weight on his shoulders; it wants to press him down to the ground and keep him there forever. Would it be so wrong to lay down beside you and face the future together? He doesn't want to be left behind. He knows he can't do that. Not here, not now.

One by one, faceless people stop in front of him. They shake his hand, they pat his shoulder, and they hug him gently, but he doesn't feel any of it. He is just numb with sorrow; it doesn't feel real. Their condolences fall on deaf ears, and he can't even truly bring himself to turn away his gaze from your body, lying there so still. He is lost in a sea of grief and disbelief. He watches as the people move to you, each one offering you tender words and well wishes as they honor your life.

Vash would remain standing there for the rest of his life, unable to move a single inch, if a hand didn't push him forward. It was Brad, signaling to him that it was time. Vash takes careful steps forward to stand beside the simple metal coffin. You lay in it, surrounded by white fabric, peaceful and unmoving. Vash takes a deep breath to steady himself before reaching out to touch your cold hand. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of your absence. As he stands there, memories flood his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love and laughter you shared.

"If only I could have you back. I wish I could have you until I can put into words how much you mean to me. How much I love you. You would live forever because there are no such words. You were sunshine, and now there is only darkness. I couldn't save you. You were my everything." Vash can't hold back the tears anymore, and a sob escapes him. He wipes his face into the black fabric of his sleeve. The twin suns set on the scene, painting the sky with hues of red and orange. As dusk creeps near, candles light among the mourners, casting a warm glow over the desert sand.

"I never thought this day would come," Vash continues quietly as he clutches your hand, "where I have to lay you to rest. I thought you would be here forever, like the moons and the stars, a guiding light even in the darkest of nights. You will never be forgotten, and you will take my heart with you on this long journey. It is so very hard to say it, but I must." He sobs again, frantically wiping away the tears and snot. "This is our final goodbye. And for one last time, I get to tell you: I love you."

Vash bows down and presses his lips against your forehead, where he has left a million kisses before. As he stands up, he takes a deep breath and turns away, his heart heavy with the weight of his words. With one last look over his shoulder, he walks away, leaving behind memories that will forever linger in his soul. As he stands among the others, his hands shake too much to hold on to a candle; instead, he uses them to bury his face, muffling the sobs that press out of his spasming lungs. Someone holds him, their arm around his back, but he does not know who. He barely sees the lid being placed on your coffin, sealing you away forever. The world has gone dark, and he is lost in his grief as you are lowered into the ground, never to return. Vash remains there even as the sand is piled on top of your grave and the people surround your mound with candles before leaving. The flames flicker in the darkness, casting long shadows on the desert landscape as Vash kneels before your grave and sobs, much like the day you died.

His hand is lifted, and something nuzzles into the crook of his elbow. He has to blink a few times to clear his eyes and see his daughter settle in against his side. She looks up as he shifts slightly, and pain flares in his heart as the face looking at him is so much like yours. He recognized you in your daughter the first time he looked at her, and the resemblance has only grown stronger over the last two years.

"Don't cry, daddy!" she says, pulling out a teddy she had brought with her. She throws it on Vash's chest before nuzzling more against his arm. Vash pulls her closer to his side.

"Daddy wasn't crying. He was just sweating." He lies, not wanting his kids to see him like this. . His heart aches at the thought of them worrying about him. He wipes his eyes quickly into his other hand, only to hear pattering feet approach the bed in the dark room. Without saying anything, the older twin climbs into bed and crawls closer to Vash. He settles in against his dad's other side, pulling a cat stuffy closer against his cheek.

"I seep wit daddy too!" he says, throwing an envious look at his sister over Vash's chest.

Another painful reminder of a person he wasn't able to save. As he looks at his young son, he can't help but see the face of his brother. He knows that in reality it is his face looking back at him, but still, the reminder is there, making his gut feel heavy.

"You should both be in bed, asleep." Vash says softly as he holds them both close.

"I wan seep here!" The little boy exclaims and nuzzles more into the warmth of his father's chest.

"Me too!" answers the other kid with a stare so resolute that there was no arguing. She looked so much like you, it was uncanny.

"Alright, just for tonight. You do have your own beds, and this is daddy's bed." He looks tenderly at his two kids, happy to be here in this moment with them. "But no tomfoolery! I mean it, you two. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

He tucks the twins in and leaves his protective arms around them, gently stroking their backs until they fall asleep. He remains awake for a little bit longer, thinking back to the bittersweet memories he has of you. It is hard to believe that this grief will ever truly go away. Every day, he thinks about you, missing you with every breath. He can only hope he does justice to you in his own life. He tries his best to raise the kids you brought into this world, hoping that they will grow up to be just as kind and loving as you were. He still feels guilt for how their lives began and how he nearly abandoned them completely in hopes of keeping them safe. He carries the weight of his mistakes, but he finds solace in the fact that your love continues to guide him, even in your absence. Despite the pain of losing you, he is determined to honor your memory by being the best parent he can be for your children.

He slipped into a dreamless slumber and woke a few hours later, when morning had arrived and filled the room with golden light. He looks over to the empty side of the bed where you used to lay, feeling a pang of sorrow in his heart, but the dark hair of the kid to his left caught his attention. The little boy turns in his sleep, and that's what woke him up in the first place. His peaceful expression brought a smile to his face. On the other side, his daughter uses his forearm as a pillow; her black locks look like a mess, and Vash already knows it will be a struggle to get that sorted out. She has the habit of hiding all the combs in hopes she won't have to brush her hair. One of the little ponytails is sticking up at a strange angle, and the other is barely holding on on the other side.

He has his little family, and while you aren't with them, you are still in his heart. He wonders if he should visit you today, take the kids with him, and say hello. He continues to contemplate the decision, knowing it could bring both happiness and heartache. The main question is if he can keep from sobbing right then and there; he wouldn't want to cry in front of the kids. His thoughts stray to breakfast just as his son lifts his head from his arm and rubs his eyes with his little fist. "Good morning," Vash says quietly as he smiles at his son, hoping to hide the pain inside.

On the other side, his little girl makes fussy sounds as she turns, still half asleep. Vash leans down to gently kiss the top of her head, knowing that he has to be strong for his children despite the turmoil in his heart.

It turns out to be a slow morning. It takes time for the kids to completely wake up, and even more time for Vash to negotiate with them to get the morning routine going. The prospect of pancakes is what gets them all out of bed. Vash gets the twins ready for the day to the best of his abilities, but the nightmares are taking a toll on him. He could lay back down and sleep for the whole day, but he knows his family needs him to keep going. After a quick nappy change and dressing the children, he leaves them to play in the living room, in his line of sight, where he stands in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

As usual, the play that begins rather gently quickly turns into roughhousing and loud laughter as the twins chase each other around for one reason or another. As the chaos escalates, he can't help but smile at their antics. This is how he imagined things to be—a house full of giggles and love. It is just missing you. He longs for the day when you'll join in on the fun and complete their little family, but he is well aware it will never come. There is a tiny part that still feels as if you could walk through the door at any second and make everything right again.

"Hey! No running in the kitchen!" Vash calls out a little sternly as the twins start to chase each other around the dining table. Vash is worried he might have overdone it with that tone of voice and will now have two screaming toddles on his hands, but to his surprise, the two babies come to him, trying to peer up onto the stove with wide, curious eyes. As they are too short to see anything interesting, they resort to playing peek-a-boo with each other, hiding behind Vash's legs. They both hold on to his pants tightly, and soon enough, hang off them. Vash is glad he wears his belt tight nowadays, or they would have fallen down long ago.

"Hey now, kids! Daddy is making pancakes on the hot stove! You shouldn't be playing here!" But the kids continue to dangle from his pants, giggling and swinging back and forth as they peek at each other. "You must be hungry. I will give you your plates if you let go."

Vash's negotiations fall through, and instead the twins cling on to his leg, using his feet as seats. Vash lets out a deep sigh and surrenders to his fate. He resigns himself to the fact that his children are as stubborn as you and him put together. They will never let go. So he twists around to the best of his abilities, reaching out the plate filled with pancakes to place on the table and pushing anything potentially dangerous farther away from the edge of the counter. He lifts his legs, one at a time, with the children still clinging on, and makes his way to the cabinet with the plates. As he sets their plates down, he can't help but smile at the sight of his children's determined faces. Despite the chaos, he wouldn't have it any other way.

With some bribing in the form of syrup and whipped cream, he settles the kids into their high chairs, where they start to fool around with the plates they were given before they see the stack of pancakes waiting for them on the table. Their little grabby hands immediately stretch out towards the treasure that lay just out of reach. Vash smiles as he gives the twins a knowing look, already anticipating the mayhem that would ensue once the pancakes were within their grasp. Predictably, breakfast is just as turbulent as it is most of the time, but this time it is more sticky on account of the syrup. The twins giggle with delight, thoroughly enjoying the mess they had created, but are not that thrilled by the prospect of a bath.

Vash's life is not easy. Despite the sweet moments, there are all the sleepless nights, the nightmares and worries, and two sugar-high toddlers running around the house. His home is filled with noise and life, despite the shadow of death looming in the dark corners. Not a day goes by where he doesn't wish he could share it all with you—the joys and heartaches. He longs for your presence to fill the void in his heart; he misses you with every breath he takes. Yet in some way, it feels like you never left, like you are still watching over them all, guiding them through life's challenges, and celebrating their victories. It would explain why the twins first words were "mama", despite them not meaning him. He takes comfort in knowing that your presence is still felt, even in your physical absence. So he continues to do what he can—his best.

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And if you feel like reading more of my dad!Vash, but want to recover from this trainwreck, then I have the perfect thing for you: Little Feet.

#I'll just leave this here and crawl back into my cave of misery #trigun #trigun maximum #fanfiction #fanfic #vash the stampede #humanoid typhoon #x reader #plant boi #writing #angst

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