[The door opens and Vash is greeted by the punisher, unwrapped and aimed his way. Wolfwood sitting on the floor. His back against the mattress, attention divided between the closed window and the door.
He stares for a moment, arm shaky, but eventually he turns the barrel away from Vash.
At his side is at least three crushed cigarette cartons and a shit ton of butts. That he’s been chain smoking is an understatement.
There’s a panicked look in his eyes in the dark room, made to look even madder by the cherry of his cigarette and the blue of his cross.]
( It isn't what he's expecting. It absolutely isn't what he's expecting, and it shows in his face, something stuttering across flushed skin. Worry, first and foremost, then confusion. But he steps into the room more neatly, shuts the door quickly behind him, shoulders pressing into the wood there. There's something not quite right about his friend's expression, and Vash feels his gut churning in response, a halting step forward as his voice turns placating. )
Hey.
( Gaze flicking from the Punisher to the window and back to Wolfwood's face again, his own bottom lip briefly chewed on before he continues. He's careful about his approach. Not because he's afraid - at least not of Wolfwood - but because he's been around long enough to read the warning signs. There's something faraway there, something fretful. He just has to figure out where it's coming from. )
[He won’t relax until he hears the click of the door locking, and then his gaze is immediately back on the window. There’s nothing to look at, it’s been shuttered, but that doesn’t stop him from staring at it like he sees something dangerous in it.]
There’s something bad out there. I feel-it feels like it’s watching me.
[Does he sound panicked? Absolutely. His teeth grind, smashing and bending his cigarette but he doesn’t even seem to notice.]
I shouldn’t have called. But it’s-
[He runs a hand through his hair, runs it down his neck, hand catching on the collar of his shirt in just the right way to show off the top of a dark large bruise along his collarbone.]
( The sight of the bruise is enough to have Vash throwing caution to the wind, ignoring all of the danger in favour of crossing the space and sinking right there on the floor, hand reaching out to pull back the shirt collar. The bruise is dark, a little ugly looking, and it was absolutely not there the last time they saw each other. That ill feeling rises in him, the same strange off-putting anxiety that has been resting behind his ribs since they got here, amplified.
Wide, panicked eyes lift to Wolfwood's own frantic ones. )
What happened? Did you get in a fight? Did someone do this to you?
[He flinches when Vash is suddenly in his space, but he doesn't take his hand off the trigger of punisher just to nudge him away. He doesn't know what Vash is talking about.
Honestly, it's hard to care much. He's trying to warn Vash here, if he could focus properly. But it's hard. He hasn't been this scared since he was strapped to a metal table. And he can't control it. There's no breathing through it, no pushing it down and ignoring it, it's like it's pierced through all his mental defenses and he's just panicked.]
Don't you hear that? It's out there in the forest, but it's...also here, and it's watching. I don't-I saw their god.
[He suddenly drops his cross, both hands going to his head, covering his ears like something is assaulting them. There's nothing. Nothing but a hallucination, but it feels so damn real, and he's sure it is. Something roaring outside their hotel.]
( Maybe the panic is catching, or maybe it's just that Vash has never seen the other man like this. The undertaker is usually so calm, stoic in a way that everyone else around him is usually not. He's unflappable except for when he's very angry, and even then he holds a part of himself back, and so this? This is frightening. Vash doesn't know what to do with this. He doesn't know who to turn to with it, certainly doesn't know how to fix it. So all he can do is try his very best and usually that's fine.
Usually he doesn't have something quite so important falling to pieces in front of him though.
But he doesn't try and pry Wolfwood's hands from his ears, shuffling closer, his own fingers curving around slim feeling shoulder blades. He doesn't know if touch will help or hinder, so he keeps it light, gaze flicking to the Punisher before deciding that no, taking the weapon away will not help. Talking it is then. )
Wolfwood, look at me, come on. You trust me, right? ( Voice low, a frantic little whisper. ) You trust me, and I'm telling you you're fine. There's nothing there. It's you and me, okay? Nothing else. And even - even if there was I wouldn't let it get to you, so you just need to breathe. And focus on me. I'm here. Can you look at me? Just for a second.
[He can hear Vash through his hands, and it starts to cut through the snarling sound in his ear. He stares at him for a long moment before his hands fall limply to his sides.
A part of him is aware that he's not right. It's why he reached out to Vash at all. He'd never call him if he knew truly, that it wasn't safe. But panic does weird things to him.
So do Vash's hands. A moment ago it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. But Vash's hands caught it, pushed it back in. It's still there for now.
He stares. He breathes. He ignores the feeling that something dangerous is just over his shoulder.]
We tried to summon their god.
[The most coherent sentence he's been able to focus on yet.]
( Wolfwood's hands drop, and Vash's own trail after, down over his shoulders and his biceps, tracing the length of his forearms so he can take him gently by the wrists. His pulse is a frantic beat under Vash's touch, and it's that and the confession too that has his mouth twisting. )
I think this place is just a little spooky.
( It's placating, a thin thread of faux cheerfulness in the words. He's not trying to patronise Wolfwood, not really. Something does feel off. He's honed enough senses over the years to know when a place has a bad vibe, and this one definitely has that. But all of it skirts far too close to the things he doesn't like to think about, the fanaticism that dogs his steps, the zealotry that makes a part of him burn with strange revulsion. And it can't be real. It can't.
He runs a thumb over the bone in Wolfwood's wrist, tries not to think about why he does. )
It's a lot, right? All of this. But I wouldn't lead you astray, okay? It's just you and me right now. No gods, just us.
[Vash's slow touch feels like a balm over burning nerves. It doesn't erase the paranoia that's settled over him, but the noises outside have stopped. He's losing his mind apparently, because Vash seems so insistent that there's nothing else here, even if every nerve in his body is tight with warning, if he's worried about every shadow suddenly slashing out at him.
He can handle that, even if he can't control it. But...but Vash says the god's not real and all the panic comes back, twisting in his chest. His hands jerk out, squeezing Vash's shoulders tightly, with uncontrolled strength because he's not conscious enough to remember just how strong he is.]
Vash. No. There is. There is. It's real. We saw it. Maybe it's not actually here, but it's out there.
( That's worse, somehow. Not that Wolfwood is gripping onto him, though he sways a little with the touch, fingers reaching up to curl in the other man's sleeves. That part is fine, he can bear it. But there's a conviction in the other man's voice he can't ignore. Anyone else and maybe. But not this. )
Okay, I believe you. I believe you.
( He twists a little, peers towards the door, the windows. )
But there really is nothing right now, Wolfwood. I would feel it. I would hear something, or I'd have seen something on my way back here. Everything's fine out there. Nothing's coming. Do you believe me? I can go check, if that would help. What do you need?
[His grip lessens, but he doesn't let go, instead they fist into Vash's jacket, suddenly scared the man is going to get up and leave. He can't. Wolfwood can't explain why he can't, but he can't.]
Okay.
[He feels a bit better now, trusting that they aren't just placating words. Because Vash needs to know that something dangerous is lurking out there. Even if he can't explain it. Even if it was just a shape. Something was out there, he has no doubt about that. And at the moment, he's terrified of it despite it doing...nothing.]
No. No. no. Don't go out there. Don't-
[Don't leave him. Is what he wants to say, but the words get stuck on his tongue. Because he's never asked that of anybody. He's never cared enough to ask anybody.
So instead he bows his head forward, letting his forehead hit Vash's shoulder.]
( A noise, a soft squeaky little thing that he covers up quickly, hands moving again to curve around Wolfwood's waist. They've been getting better at casual intimacy the last few weeks, shoulders brushing, hands shoving, but this feels different. He hates it, and hates the way he craves it too, the heat of the other man's forehead burning through his clothing. It would be easier if this was something he could fight. He doesn't know how to do this.
But he'll try.
He shuffles closer without a word, arms going around that waist, gathering Wolfwood to him. It's the first time they've ever hugged, and Vash keeps his touch loose at first just in case the other man wants to break free. When he talks his voice is soft, earnest. )
You're not. Something is weird here, you're right about that. I don't like it either. But nothing's going to get you. I won't let it, okay? And we're gonna be fine, because we'll face it together.
( He flattens his real palm against Wolfwood's spine, runs it gently in a circle. )
[He doesn't know why he did it, but it's not until Vash's arms are around him and he finds himself surrounded by body heat in a way he never has before that he realizes what he's initiated.
He doesn't have the extra energy to be embarrassed by his actions though. There are things moving in the shadows and the only thing keeping him from reaching for the punisher and shooting at it is the arms around his waist and the hand on his back. So instead he squeezes his eyes shut so he can't see it.
He's never doubted his own senses before. He's never trusted anyone to protect him either. Nobody has ever come to save him.
But he's counting on Vash.]
Don't patronize me, Spikey.
[But his fingers just curl into his jacket tighter.]
( A muffled protest, considering he's still very much holding on to Wolfwood as tight as he can. ) This is more for me than it is you anyway, so just go along with it. It's been a long day.
( It is and it isn't true. Certainly the day has been long, but Vash is used to that. Other than a sense of unease he's been throwing himself helpfully into whatever he can with reckless abandon. He hasn't suffered through whatever Wolfwood has. But that doesn't mean the fear that takes hold now isn't real. The man in his arms is important to Vash - perhaps the most important - and while he's dutifully ignoring whatever that means, to see him so rattled does the same thing to Vash. He only just got him back. He thought he wouldn't be allowed even that. Whatever's happening here doesn't get to take it away again. )
What do you need me to do? ( His hand is still moving, still soothing. He can't quite help it. ) Tell me, and I'll do it.
[He doesn't have the energy to fight with Vash, otherwise he'd call that bullshit too. But he doesn't feel like being catty. It's hard to when the paranoia feels like it's trying to eat him alive.
He exhales a couple of breaths against Vash's shoulder. The sounds are still roaring in his ears, his skin is still prickled with the feeling of something lurking right beside him, but instead he forces himself to focus on the feeling of Vash's hand against his back.]
I still hear it. I feel it. If I open up my eyes I see it. So just...be my senses until this goes away. If it's real and it kills me, I'll haunt your ass.
( There's a misery pulling up his shoulders, knitting the notches in his spine more tighter together. For something to effect Wolfwood this much is alarming. He doesn't blame the man for it, and he'd certainly rather he was here by his side than he wasn't. But he feels useless. There is nothing he can fight here, nothing he can explain away. )
I just hear you. Your breathing. There's a little wind outside too, but that was the case when I was out there. And uh, I see - dust? A lot of dust. I can smell it too. It smells different here, doesn't it? Not as dry. It's kind of funny, you think? How the dust can smell strange? Or maybe you haven't noticed. No, you would have.
( He's rambling, he knows it. But it's all he can think to do. )
Damp has a smell. I didn't know that before. I guess not a lot gets to be saturated on No Man's Land.
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@punisher
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[Sorry. there's no elaboration.]
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( Sorry old lady, he's just gonna speedwalk these barrels now. )
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i'm coming back.
give me five minutes ok? don't go anywhere!
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Wolfwood?
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He stares for a moment, arm shaky, but eventually he turns the barrel away from Vash.
At his side is at least three crushed cigarette cartons and a shit ton of butts. That he’s been chain smoking is an understatement.
There’s a panicked look in his eyes in the dark room, made to look even madder by the cherry of his cigarette and the blue of his cross.]
Hurry. Close the door.
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Hey.
( Gaze flicking from the Punisher to the window and back to Wolfwood's face again, his own bottom lip briefly chewed on before he continues. He's careful about his approach. Not because he's afraid - at least not of Wolfwood - but because he's been around long enough to read the warning signs. There's something faraway there, something fretful. He just has to figure out where it's coming from. )
You okay? Did something happen?
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[He won’t relax until he hears the click of the door locking, and then his gaze is immediately back on the window. There’s nothing to look at, it’s been shuttered, but that doesn’t stop him from staring at it like he sees something dangerous in it.]
There’s something bad out there. I feel-it feels like it’s watching me.
[Does he sound panicked? Absolutely. His teeth grind, smashing and bending his cigarette but he doesn’t even seem to notice.]
I shouldn’t have called. But it’s-
[He runs a hand through his hair, runs it down his neck, hand catching on the collar of his shirt in just the right way to show off the top of a dark large bruise along his collarbone.]
We pissed it off.
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( The sight of the bruise is enough to have Vash throwing caution to the wind, ignoring all of the danger in favour of crossing the space and sinking right there on the floor, hand reaching out to pull back the shirt collar. The bruise is dark, a little ugly looking, and it was absolutely not there the last time they saw each other. That ill feeling rises in him, the same strange off-putting anxiety that has been resting behind his ribs since they got here, amplified.
Wide, panicked eyes lift to Wolfwood's own frantic ones. )
What happened? Did you get in a fight? Did someone do this to you?
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Honestly, it's hard to care much. He's trying to warn Vash here, if he could focus properly. But it's hard. He hasn't been this scared since he was strapped to a metal table. And he can't control it. There's no breathing through it, no pushing it down and ignoring it, it's like it's pierced through all his mental defenses and he's just panicked.]
Don't you hear that? It's out there in the forest, but it's...also here, and it's watching. I don't-I saw their god.
[He suddenly drops his cross, both hands going to his head, covering his ears like something is assaulting them. There's nothing. Nothing but a hallucination, but it feels so damn real, and he's sure it is. Something roaring outside their hotel.]
Fuck. Fuck!
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( Maybe the panic is catching, or maybe it's just that Vash has never seen the other man like this. The undertaker is usually so calm, stoic in a way that everyone else around him is usually not. He's unflappable except for when he's very angry, and even then he holds a part of himself back, and so this? This is frightening. Vash doesn't know what to do with this. He doesn't know who to turn to with it, certainly doesn't know how to fix it. So all he can do is try his very best and usually that's fine.
Usually he doesn't have something quite so important falling to pieces in front of him though.
But he doesn't try and pry Wolfwood's hands from his ears, shuffling closer, his own fingers curving around slim feeling shoulder blades. He doesn't know if touch will help or hinder, so he keeps it light, gaze flicking to the Punisher before deciding that no, taking the weapon away will not help. Talking it is then. )
Wolfwood, look at me, come on. You trust me, right? ( Voice low, a frantic little whisper. ) You trust me, and I'm telling you you're fine. There's nothing there. It's you and me, okay? Nothing else. And even - even if there was I wouldn't let it get to you, so you just need to breathe. And focus on me. I'm here. Can you look at me? Just for a second.
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A part of him is aware that he's not right. It's why he reached out to Vash at all. He'd never call him if he knew truly, that it wasn't safe. But panic does weird things to him.
So do Vash's hands. A moment ago it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. But Vash's hands caught it, pushed it back in. It's still there for now.
He stares. He breathes. He ignores the feeling that something dangerous is just over his shoulder.]
We tried to summon their god.
[The most coherent sentence he's been able to focus on yet.]
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I think this place is just a little spooky.
( It's placating, a thin thread of faux cheerfulness in the words. He's not trying to patronise Wolfwood, not really. Something does feel off. He's honed enough senses over the years to know when a place has a bad vibe, and this one definitely has that. But all of it skirts far too close to the things he doesn't like to think about, the fanaticism that dogs his steps, the zealotry that makes a part of him burn with strange revulsion. And it can't be real. It can't.
He runs a thumb over the bone in Wolfwood's wrist, tries not to think about why he does. )
It's a lot, right? All of this. But I wouldn't lead you astray, okay? It's just you and me right now. No gods, just us.
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He can handle that, even if he can't control it. But...but Vash says the god's not real and all the panic comes back, twisting in his chest. His hands jerk out, squeezing Vash's shoulders tightly, with uncontrolled strength because he's not conscious enough to remember just how strong he is.]
Vash. No. There is. There is. It's real. We saw it. Maybe it's not actually here, but it's out there.
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( That's worse, somehow. Not that Wolfwood is gripping onto him, though he sways a little with the touch, fingers reaching up to curl in the other man's sleeves. That part is fine, he can bear it. But there's a conviction in the other man's voice he can't ignore. Anyone else and maybe. But not this. )
Okay, I believe you. I believe you.
( He twists a little, peers towards the door, the windows. )
But there really is nothing right now, Wolfwood. I would feel it. I would hear something, or I'd have seen something on my way back here. Everything's fine out there. Nothing's coming. Do you believe me? I can go check, if that would help. What do you need?
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Okay.
[He feels a bit better now, trusting that they aren't just placating words. Because Vash needs to know that something dangerous is lurking out there. Even if he can't explain it. Even if it was just a shape. Something was out there, he has no doubt about that. And at the moment, he's terrified of it despite it doing...nothing.]
No. No. no. Don't go out there. Don't-
[Don't leave him. Is what he wants to say, but the words get stuck on his tongue. Because he's never asked that of anybody. He's never cared enough to ask anybody.
So instead he bows his head forward, letting his forehead hit Vash's shoulder.]
I feel like I'm going crazy.
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But he'll try.
He shuffles closer without a word, arms going around that waist, gathering Wolfwood to him. It's the first time they've ever hugged, and Vash keeps his touch loose at first just in case the other man wants to break free. When he talks his voice is soft, earnest. )
You're not. Something is weird here, you're right about that. I don't like it either. But nothing's going to get you. I won't let it, okay? And we're gonna be fine, because we'll face it together.
( He flattens his real palm against Wolfwood's spine, runs it gently in a circle. )
It's okay, it's really okay.
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He doesn't have the extra energy to be embarrassed by his actions though. There are things moving in the shadows and the only thing keeping him from reaching for the punisher and shooting at it is the arms around his waist and the hand on his back. So instead he squeezes his eyes shut so he can't see it.
He's never doubted his own senses before. He's never trusted anyone to protect him either. Nobody has ever come to save him.
But he's counting on Vash.]
Don't patronize me, Spikey.
[But his fingers just curl into his jacket tighter.]
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( A muffled protest, considering he's still very much holding on to Wolfwood as tight as he can. ) This is more for me than it is you anyway, so just go along with it. It's been a long day.
( It is and it isn't true. Certainly the day has been long, but Vash is used to that. Other than a sense of unease he's been throwing himself helpfully into whatever he can with reckless abandon. He hasn't suffered through whatever Wolfwood has. But that doesn't mean the fear that takes hold now isn't real. The man in his arms is important to Vash - perhaps the most important - and while he's dutifully ignoring whatever that means, to see him so rattled does the same thing to Vash. He only just got him back. He thought he wouldn't be allowed even that. Whatever's happening here doesn't get to take it away again. )
What do you need me to do? ( His hand is still moving, still soothing. He can't quite help it. ) Tell me, and I'll do it.
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He exhales a couple of breaths against Vash's shoulder. The sounds are still roaring in his ears, his skin is still prickled with the feeling of something lurking right beside him, but instead he forces himself to focus on the feeling of Vash's hand against his back.]
I still hear it. I feel it. If I open up my eyes I see it. So just...be my senses until this goes away. If it's real and it kills me, I'll haunt your ass.
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I just hear you. Your breathing. There's a little wind outside too, but that was the case when I was out there. And uh, I see - dust? A lot of dust. I can smell it too. It smells different here, doesn't it? Not as dry. It's kind of funny, you think? How the dust can smell strange? Or maybe you haven't noticed. No, you would have.
( He's rambling, he knows it. But it's all he can think to do. )
Damp has a smell. I didn't know that before. I guess not a lot gets to be saturated on No Man's Land.
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I didn't mean it literally. You don't have to give me a running commentary.
[But he's flattered Vash would go through that much effort.]
We tried summoning the god these people keep rattling on about. Something showed up. Pretty sure it's...that's what I'm feeling.
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