[ Vash's giggling is quick to turn to pouting at the mention of no more cheering because: ]
Aww, but you deserve a cheers!
[ It's said wholeheartedly with genuine sincerity and after all Vash has had tonight, what's one more drink? At this point he figures it can't make much of a difference to the state he's already in. But before he can go hunting for a drink to replace his imaginary one so he can properly conclude the toast, Wolfwood is already adjusting his grip and steering him towards the door. It takes all of Vash's effort just to keep step with him on very unsteady feet, hurriedly giving his drinking buddies for the night a wave and a "byeeee~" before he disappears out of their view and is moved into the street. At least the outside air is sort of nice though it does nothing to help sober him up or make him comprehend Wolfwood's words any faster. Even with how heavily he's leaning against Wolfwood, all his attention is on putting one foot in front of the other so it takes a moment for the words to sink in. ]
Mmno, there was no cake or... or anything...
[ Rather, there was food available, he just didn't eat any of it. The only thing he'd been concerned with was getting as drunk as quickly as possible to outrun certain memories and... well, after passing through four different establishments, he's achieved that goal. There was a deliberation behind the excessive drinking and abstaining of food that, in all his wasted glory, has mostly slipped his mind. Unfortunately, his body hasn't forgotten one bit. ]
Wait, wait-
[ Vash is forced to stop and dig his heels in when all the motion makes his dizziness unbearable, squeezing his eyes shut and clapping a hand over his mouth like that alone might stop the dangerous rolling of his stomach.
Sorry Wolfwood, it's going to be slow going. ]
Curses Captcha! lol I'd noticed on my last tag that it had kicked in.
[He couldn't help the way that response made his face go just a bit red, but the look he gave him in return was laced with either irritation or disbelief to try and hide it.]
Ok, now I know you've had too much. Either that, or you get better at lying the more drunk you are. [Honestly, he would prefer it to just be the latter, because Vash giving him that kind of genuinely happy praise makes something twist in his chest that he doesn't want to think about. Which was why he was frankly relieved that getting him out the door and back to the inn seems to be a bit of an ordeal, with how unsteady he is on his feet, since it gave him something to distract from the weird little flutter it set off in his chest.
How one man can be both the clumsiest and the most agile creature in existence, he still has yet to figure out, but Vash manages to do it constantly. And the alcohol always seems to contribute less than one would expect, honestly.]
Well then, once you sleep off some of the booze, we can get you some of those fancy donuts in the morning to make up for the lack of cake, the ones with the sprinkles and whipped cream in the middle or whatever they're doing with them, these days. But you'd probably lose it all if we tried to give you that much sug-Oop- NO. Do not!
[If he could squirm away from him and keep him standing in one place, he was going to do it, angling away so that he was at least holding him up somewhat but was hopefully out of the danger zone if he lost his lunch. Not that he hadn't seen him to the point of vomiting before, but that was just reinforcing the little voice that he had had percolating in the back of his mind that said alcohol was a very specific type of problem for Vash, and he was not paid or trained well enough to help someone deal with that kind of a problem.
He wasn't even supposed to care in the first place, but that ship had already sailed a long time ago, and it was making everything so much harder.]
Come on, man, try sittin' down if you have to, maybe that'll help, but you're just gonna go from bubbly to miserable if you yack. [At the same time, it would help solve part of the problem of him having too much alcohol swimming around in his gut. Wolfwood sighed.] At least wait until we get you to the inn so you can take a shower after.
[No, he's not worrying. No, he's not fussing. He's irritated and grouchy and put out, that's all! The fact that the arm around his back was rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders to try and help him settle down was only because him getting sick out here would be a pain in the ass, that was it! And if anyone said anything to the contrary, he'd put a boot up their ass!]
[ Oblivious, Vash doesn't argue because it's true and even in his trashed state, he knows he's had way too much to drink. Still, he could argue that he would never lie about that β Wolfwood does deserve it and so much more than Vash could ever give him β but he gets far too preoccupied with important things such as staying upright and moving with Wolfwood, the thought slipping through his fingers like sand. Wolfwood's voice is a steady, familiar stream of sound that Vash lets wash over him. If he wasn't on the verge of throwing up, the fancy donuts that his dear friend describes would be the loveliest birthday treat he could imagine. As it stands, the mere thought of trying to eat anything no matter how sweet and tasty makes his gut roil all the more.
A soft, little noise not unlike a whine escapes from behind the hand covering his mouth when Wolfwood reprimands him and shifts away as much as he can without fully letting go. He wants that line of heat pressed against his side back, wants to list against Wolfwood's side entirely when his knees are threatening to buckle, but he's forced to stand there and remain as still as he can lest he loses all the contents of his stomach right there and then. The suggestion of sitting down is tempting and Vash would do it if he wasn't convinced that he wouldn't be able to get back up again. Wolfwood would really have to carry him and he wants to avoid being more of a burden than he's already being.
So he stays put, eyes remaining squeezed shut as he tries to breathe through the waves of nausea. It helps to concentrate on just that, inhaling and exhaling deep shaky breaths through his nose, as well as the gentle hand that's come to rub soothing circles against his back. The contact is steadying and yet in other ways the kind touch makes him feel unmoored, chest tightening with emotions he's far too inebriated to recognize and name and so his mind shies away from them, focusing solely on the sensation itself. The intensity of his nausea lessens and even though he's afraid to move and set it off again, he wants to get back to their room as soon as possible. Wolfwood's right. He can't get sick out here and create a mess others will have to deal with, he needs to get to the bathroom at the very least. ]
S'okay. 'M okay.
[ He mumbles as he opens his eyes and slowly lowers his hand, closing the distance between them again with a wobbly step both so he can hold on better for support and so he can drop his head on Wolfwood's shoulder as drowsiness is starting to make it feel too heavy. ]
Let's go, I wanna sleep...
Yeah, I'm just a bit newer on that meme, so I'd always heard about the captchas but not seen it lol
Yeah, yeah...[He mumbled at the small whine, and he was relieved when the hand on his back and the small wait at least seemed to make his nausea settle somewhat.
What he wasn't quite sure how to deal with was the way, when he wobbled back up against his side and leaned on him for support again, the feeling of his head dropping onto his shoulder and the sound of his voice beginning to go muzzy made him feel some sort of way that was better left unaddressed.
Good luck with that, though. He still had to wrap his arm back around under his arms, holding him up and close so that when he began walking him again - slower and more carefully this time - he was safe and secure from the risk of dropping like a stone.]
I'm makin' you drink an entire canteen of water when we get back, just so you know. Otherwise, you'll be absolutely miserable the entire time we're on the road tomorrow. [And it had been hard enough for him as it was, the last time he'd conked out in the sidecar from a massive hangover, and Wolfwood had found himself wanting to reach down and brush his fingers through the rumpled hair on top of his head after he'd ended up leaning it against his leg to sleep. It was like having a cat snuggle up next to you when you least expected it. Before you knew it, you had reached down and were petting the damn thing without even meaning to, and so help him, if it turned out Vash purred if he petted him, he was screwed.
Getting through the door of the inn was one thing. Navigating the stairs with a blottoed Humanoid Typhoon was another thing entirely. He actually paused at the foot of the steps, stared up at them for a minute, and then sighed.]
Alright. One foot at a time, dumbass. Otherwise you'll fall over and take us both out.
[ It's hard to say when exactly Wolfwood's steadfast presence by his side became a comfort to Vash; something he started counting on, something that was getting harder and harder to imagine being without with each passing day even though he'd been without that companionship for way more years and inevitably would be again. If he'd been passing through this town on his own, he wouldn't have gotten nearly as wasted as he currently is, but knowing Wolfwood's around has given him a sense of comforting security he's been gradually leaning on more and more. Quite literally, in this case. With his head on Wolfwood's shoulder, soaking up his warmth against his side in the cold night air and breathing in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his friend's clothes, he lets his eyes fall shut again. If it weren't for the fact they were starting to move once more, Vash might have been able to start developing the skill of falling asleep while standing up right then and there.
At least both the slower steps and the act of keeping his eyes closed to shut out the spinning world help to make the journey easier. Wolfwood's plan of forcing him to drink water gets a noise of dismayed protest out of him because the thought of putting any more liquid inside of himself when he could swear he can feel the alcohol sloshing around in his stomach with every step he takes is deeply unappealing. As is the thought of needing to be back on the road tomorrow. ]
Can't we just stay another day...
[ Perhaps not very feasible when their travel funds are already running low, but getting to take a day to sleep off and recover from the hangover he's no doubt going to suffer from is far more tempting than having to be sit in the sidecar for hours on end. He can already imagine how every bump in the road is going to upset his stomach and aching head.
It's not until Wolfwood halts in his tracks and seems to stay put that Vash finally cracks an eye open to see what the holdup is, promptly regretting it the second his gaze lands on the stairs. He'd forgotten all about those. They look about as impossible to climb with his jellied legs as trying to tread quicksand. Disheartened, he turns more into Wolfwood's side as though giving the stairs his back and pressing his face further into Wolfwood's shoulder might help him hide from them, exclaiming dramatically: ]
[The dismayed whining and pouting just gets an almost amused, thoughtful sound out of him.]
Ooh, do you have the money for another day? Didn't know you were holdin' out on me, Needle-Noggin. Maybe I should make you pay next time. [As if he didn't already end up paying anyway, because he always seemed more willing to go out and just do all the menial labor and odd jobs that people needed, even dragging Nick unwillingly along for the ride half the time, whereas not every city had need of a priest at any given time.
He gave a little sigh, though, making a gesture with his head that wasn't a nod but also wasn't a shake, bobbing along placatingly.]
Either way, at least the water will keep you from feelin' worse tomorrow.
[And then Vash was pressing against his side and hiding his face in his shoulder, and it was a damn good thing he was both too drunk and not looking to notice the way it made him blush from the tips of his ears down to where his shirt was actually buttoned. He shook his head, wrapping the arm around his back a little more securely around him so that he wouldn't end up dropping like a stone.]
Nuh uh, come on, you know I'd have no problem carrying you up myself, but if I end up hoisting you over my shoulder like a sack of toma feed, you'll probably end up puking down my back and I'll be really pissed. You're not an infant, Blondie, you can use your legs.
[ Vash doesn't respond to the question beyond somehow audibly pouting some more. Most of their money not used for their stay has gone to stocking up for the road and although there's some leftover, that's more intended for emergencies and their arrival in the next town. It could be used to stay an extra day, but it's not ideal and even in his drunken stupor, he knows that. Still, the thought is a tempting one. (At least more so than being forced to drink water which gets Wolfwood a little noise of disgust.) A lazy day in is something they hardly ever get and since they're not being run out of this town or pressured to leave in some way β also very much a rarity β it could actually be possible for once.
That is, if he ever makes it up the stairs.
That particular task seems insurmountable to him and it's not helped at all by the fact that he feels perfectly fine staying right where he is, leaning heavily against Wolfwood and utterly ignorant of his friend's flustered state. He's safe and warm, securely held, and there's little else he wants save for perhaps getting off of his unsteady feet. But even that seems to become more negligible with each passing second as drowsiness is catching up with him fast. Maybe he'll get to practice the art of falling asleep while standing up after all. Although it isn't necessary with how solidly Wolfwood is holding onto him, his free arm still comes up to curl his fingers in the front of Wolfwood's shirt to steady himself. ]
There are nicer ways of carrying people, y'know. Can't you... be gentler...?
[ He trails off muzzily, the argument escaping him somewhere halfway. Granted, even if weight isn't an issue, Vash is tall and all legs, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder probably is the easiest way to carry him. Wolfwood's right though: it would be a surefire way to get him to throw up. Being dangled upside down and having pressure put on his roiling stomach is the last thing he needs. ]
[The muzzy, drowsy way Vash trailed off, grabbing the front of his shirt and somehow leaning into him even more without moving a muscle made the half-rate priest fluster and stutter dumbly for a second, glancing back at Vash and then up the stairs back again before sighing.
'Gentler' he says, as if asking it in that tone that doesn't just put all sorts of mental images in his damned fool head, and he's not sure if it was just Vash being too drunk to actually think about the way the things he says sound, or is doing it on purpose.
Still, he obviously wasn't going to get up the stairs on his own two feet. He would not put it past Vash to just find a place downstairs to sleep it off instead of making the trip back up to their room. So eventually, Nick gave a pleading look up to the ceiling, as if asking the Lord above he barely even believed in to grant him strength, and then leaned down with a grumble, hooked his other arm behind Vash's knees, and hefted him up into his arms as if he weighed nothing at all. And then they were marching up the stairs, Nicholas grumbling under his breath the entire way.]
I swear, Needle-Noggin, you're gonna be the death of me one of these days.
[ Being on the verge of just dozing off right then and there, Vash remains oblivious to his friend's flustered state. Especially in the lull that happens as Wolfwood contemplates the stairs, there's nothing for Vash to focus on other than the comforting warmth he's leaning against and it's not exactly helping him to stay awake. It's only when his support is suddenly gone and he's left dangerously swaying on the spot that he's jolted back to full awareness. Fortunately, it's only a split-second of being unsupported, not giving him the time to topple over. It still feels a little like falling when his whole center of gravity shifts and his feet leave the ground though. Vash β already having forgotten his own complaint/request β gasps in surprise and his other arm joins the first around Wolfwood's neck as he instinctively clings to him.
It takes a dizzying few seconds for him to grasp the situation before he's loosening his tight hold and... giggling in delight, utterly unfazed by the grumbling. ]
So strong~
[ Vash would be lying if he said he didn't get a kick out of how easily Wolfwood handles his lanky frame. Compared to the Punisher, he's probably nothing, but it's still impressive. He hasn't been carried like this since he was a child many, many years ago; a bittersweet thought that makes his heart ache the way it always does when he even vaguely thinks of Rem. At least the bout of nostalgia makes him more subdued again, settling comfortably in Wolfwood's hold and resting his head against his shoulder. It's not often he gets to feel like a kid again and usually it's only in moments of distress when he feels small and helpless β powerless to stop something despite his best efforts β so to feel safe and cared for in this way is a very rare treat. He can't help luxuriating in it, eyes going heavy once more as he murmurs appreciatively: ]
[ For someone who normally runs around the desert in a full leather getup, hiding under a few blankets during the heat of day is hardly that much of a bother in comparison. At the moment it's well worth the trade-off when his raging hangover is making it difficult to tolerate any light and sound. Maybe if he were in a better condition, he would have propped things up to make something like a tent or blanket fort, but alas he's had to settle for being a miserable lump under a heap of blankets.
He's content to wait there, half-dozing, until the (thankfully muffled) knock on the door brings him fully into the present. ]
Come in!
[ He calls out only to wince at the loudness of his own voice. He means to sit up and greet his little guest properly, but all he manages is to stick his hand out of his nest of blankets to offer a wave when he hears the door open. Sorry bud, he's in quite a Stateβ’. ]
[ Nicholas is quiet as he goes in, closing the door very gently, then squinting towards the bed and the wave. Then there is a soft hiss that sounds suspiciously like a word that Miss Melanie might try to soap his mouth for... just so that the little ones don't learn it, before he steps closer.
His voice is also soft. ]
Hey. Um... I did bring some water. Nice and cold, at least for now.
[ It'll warm up, of course. But it should give a couple of small sips of relief, for the moment. ]
[ Fortunately, Vash doesn't catch the hiss in his muted fabric-muffled world. Not that he would do much beyond a halfhearted reprimand for appearances' sake anyway; the reason kids tend to gravitate towards him is because he'll let them get away with pretty much anything and Nicholas is no exception. (Or maybe even doubly so because of who he is.)
The gentle voice by his bedside and the lure of a cool glass of water does finally get the lump in the blankets to stir and rise up a bit. Although moving β much less in an upright position β makes the pounding in his head feel all the worse, the temptation of a little cold relief beats out the urge to remain very still in his too warm cocoon. ]
Thank you, Nicholas. You're a lifesaver, what would I do without you?
[ He manages with some humor and a grateful smile as his head appears from the blankets. ]
[ Nicholas will actually pour the water in a glass while the unfolding happens, then bring it over, pondering the question, answering with as much humor, if much dryer kind. ]
Suffer, probably.
[ And, yes, he remembers to say it quietly. He also hands over the thermos in case more coolness will be welcome. ]
[ Vash remains something of a burrito, wrapped in blankets with one acting like a hood although it does nothing to keep him from having to squint as his eyes adjust to the dim yet painful lighting in the room. The response is a welcome distraction then. One that earns Nicholas a chuckle as he accepts the glass and thermos with another murmur of gratitude. ]
Most likely.
[ It's... rather shameful to have a child look after him like this, he knows. No one deserves to be burdened by him in such a state, much less someone so young who's already carrying far more responsibilities than he should. Vash really needs to start doing better. But what's done is done and Nicholas is here now, so very kind and considerate.
He takes a few measured sips, resisting the urge to down the whole thing in one go for fear of upsetting his stomach (again), and sighs in relief at the soothing coolness. He briefly presses the cold thermos against his temple before refilling his half-drunk glass and setting the thermos aside on his bedside table. Vash shifts on the bed, creating a space that he pats in invitation. ]
Sorry about this, I hope I didn't pull you away from too many chores.
[ In all fairness, there are children who would be impressed by this, or take it as an example. Nicholas is just concerned.
He rubs the back of his head. ]
It's not too bad today. I'll manage later. [ A small, proud smile. ] It's easier work when everyone is helping.
[ Of course it's not everyone, but enough are helping, some of the smaller ones learning and eager to join, that it's lighter, right now. (Some of the littler ones will get adopted, and there will be new ones, and there will be harder days again. Not today.) ]
[ It's impossible not to feel utterly endeared by Nicholas β his gruff yet gentle concern, his kind attitude, that little prideful smile β and his presence alone serves to distract Vash from his hungover misery and make him feel better. As selfish and guilty as he feels, that doesn't diminish that in the slightest.
Although Nicholas doesn't seem to take up the invitation, Vash still leaves plenty of space on the bed as he settles back against the headboard in a cross-legged sit, nursing his glass of water. ]
I'm glad to hear it. I'll make it up to you and come around to help out soon too, 'kay?
[ Although the likelihood he'll get mobbed by the children and end up entertaining them all day instead of helping with chores is... quite high, going by previous experiences. ]
[ He's just concerned, all right? Wanted to make sure that Vash is all right. But once the water and Vash are both settled, he does climb to sit on the bed, carefully.
And just very gently nudges at Vash's arm with his shoulder. Promised hug now, or not yet?
Besides, entertaining the children is also helping with the chores! In a way! ]
I think that'll be nice, if it's all right with you. [ And if it will mean he doesn't want to drink that badly, that's also good, right? Win-win. Or something like that.
Because he sure won't have a chance to drink under Miss Melanie's watchful eye. Even one day of break means no hangover the next day, too. ]
[ His heart feels fit to bursting at the great care Nicholas takes not to jostle him and Vash doesn't hesitate shifting his glass to one hand, letting the blankets fall from his shoulders, and opening one arm in welcome at the silent ask. Between the kind distraction, the measured sips of water helping to clear his head, and his eyes adjusting to the light in the room, he feels more confident about moving. (So long as he's not required to get up just yet, that is.) ]
Of course, I'd be happy to help. If you're ever short-handed, you can always let me know.
[ There's a reason why he settled close to the orphanage. Or as close to settled as Vash can get anyway. He isn't always around, his nomadic nature makes truly staying in one place hard, but he stays here longer and returns more often than most other places.
Although that doesn't really matter either way. Nicholas would only need to ask and Vash would come running. ]
[ ... will he even be able to find him to tell him?
It doesn't matter.
Right now, he tucks himself under that arm, and wraps his arms as far as they will go against the man's chest, and rests his cheek against the hollow at the front of his shoulder.
Hug.
Beat.
This would be the time to say something nice. ]
... 'm glad if you're feelin' bad you didn't throw up.
Vash finds himself grateful to his past self for at least having somehow found the wherewithal to wash up and change into comfy clothing before crashing into bed after he came back from the bar. It means he doesn't still reek of alcohol and cigarettes when Nicholas tucks himself close. He reciprocates the embrace with no hesitation, wrapping his arm around Nicholas. He can't quite resist giving him a gentle squeeze concurrent with the swell of fondness he experiences before letting his arm rest around him loosely and comfortably, giving Nicholas the option to easily pull away whenever he wants to.
The weight and warmth of him is comforting against Vash's side; a balm to his aching heart that's admittedly far more potent than any liquor, but one much harder to reach for when he doesn't want to be selfish. Right now that doesn't seem to be a problem though, not when it seems Nicholas might have been just as much in need of a good hug.
The only somewhat coherent sentence gets a quiet chuckle out of Vash, both in amusement and slight sheepishness for the fact that he may or may not have thrown up the night before. ]
[ ... that's true, he will one day remember that he can also send texts, not only reply to others.
And yes, the point is that there is no stench, and Nicholas is grateful! He would not have hesitated to give the hug even if there had been, though.
Anyway. He gives a small headshake that's just this side of a nuzzle, and is not letting go just yet. He is not in that much of a hurry, and there's no harm in hugs. ]
's alright. If you end up worryin' that I'll worry, that'll just make it worse, wouldn't it? You do what you do, and you are how you are. No need t'be sorry.
[ He could cry, honestly. It's such an easy acceptance of who he is β awful habits and all β and Vash knows how rare and precious that is. It manages to both show a child's pureness and simplicity yet also a maturity beyond Nicholas' years at the same time. It's so painfully kind, nonjudgmental, and far more generous than Vash thinks he deserves. ]
Ahh, you're so wise and kind.
[ He hides his swell of emotions behind a playful tone. Resisting the urge to squeeze him tight in an impromptu bout of something close to cute aggression, Vash simply tilts his head down to the side, letting his cheek rest against Nicholas' hair. He admits with a wistful sigh: ]
[ IT is comfortable like this. He can kind of hear Vash's heartbeat, and it's so fascinating to listen to.
Why me, he wants to ask, because there are so many people, his age or any age, woh are better and wiser and smarter, but he's pretty sure even if the man has an answer, beyond 'well you texted me back' or something like it, he might not give it. Instead... ]
[ His heart beats a little slower than your average human, but it's steady and strong, rhythmic like the waves of an ocean this planet has never known. It doesn't falter even when Vash verbally does, humming to buy himself time to consider how to answer that question.
Had Nicholas asked the question he'd wanted to ask, it would have indeed ended in an evasive non-answer because Vash can't just tell him that he's the reincarnation of his closest, dearest friend. He can't put that sort of thing on a grown person, much less a kid. It's a constant struggle for him to want to be near, to make sure Nicholas is safe and protected, and also wanting to keep away for that very same reason. Sometimes his selfishness wins out though and watching from afar gets too lonely. ]
Myself, I suppose.
[ He settles on and it's... not wrong, per se, but doing anything purely for himself is difficult. There's a beat before he adds to that statement, truthfully. ]
And the people who I know would want me to do better, but aren't around anymore to tell me so.
[ Nicholas is confused about why he is so special - and he can recognize that he is - but he feels safe with Vash, and that's rare with adults that are other than the ones working at the orphanage, and he appreciates it. And even with the drinking and hangovers, he knows there is so many stories and interesting reactions and unexpected things he says and does. And he always makes sure people are safe.
So Nicholas appreciates him, and being around him, so in some ways he doesn't want to poke at it too much. He doesn't want to make him go away for good. (He'll go and he'll come back, and that's all right, but...) ]
Ah. That makes sense. When you're doing it for others, it's kind of easier, isn't it. Might not be easy, but it's easier. So I know you can do it. Just maybe it won't work all at once. Just small bits at a time?
[ As careful as he is to separate Nicholas and the Wolfwood he once knew and not conflate the two too much, there's no denying that Nicholas means the world to him. To feel him tucked against him, warm and alive, does make Vash feel better despite his conflicted feelings. To know he's safe and sound, doing as best as any orphan can given the circumstances, is a peace of mind that drinking to momentarily forget the past can't give him. Although the hug was a mostly selfish request, he can't regret it.
He hums in agreement that it is easier, not at all surprised that Nicholas understands when he does so much for the other children at the orphanage. ]
Well, if I have you believing in me, then I can't fail.
[ Least of all because he couldn't bear little Nicholas being disappointed in him. It's all the more incentive to start getting his act together a bit better.
He lifts his head so he can raise his hand to rest it on top of Nicholas' head instead, giving his hair a gentle ruffle. ]
[ Nicholas makes a bit of a face at the hair ruffle, but doesn't really move. A hug is nice. It doesn't hurt anyone. And if it does manage to help, all the better. ]
's what I think anyone can do. I know even with the kids sometimes there's not much one can do. They'll cry in the night, or be afraid to go the loo on their own, or what have you. Must be even worse when you're grown up and you gotta decide everythin'. Over an' over again.
So if you, like. Yell at yourself 'bout it every time, that's not gonna help. Then you'd just wanna drink so it'll hurt less all over again. Wouldn't it?
[ It's the other reason why he doesn't mind helping. Vash seems to be always on his own, and that gets in the way of anything getting better, in his vast experience. So he'll keep on doing what little he thinks he can. ]
[ Fortunately for Nicholas, the hair ruffling doesn't last long at all before his hand stills, remaining on his head as Vash listens attentively to what he's saying. It's such easy wisdom. Vash can't tell if it's because of the simple clarity with which a child perceives the world or because it's Nicholas. (It's not something he's likely ever going to get an answer to, but he's just glad he gets to wonder at all.) The easy wisdom is a knowledge that easily and often goes forgotten in the face of guilt and Vash has enough of that to drown himself in.
A reminder is certainly not out of order and very much appreciated, even if he somehow feels vaguely scolded from beyond the grave. ]
You're not wrong.
[ He admits with a smile in his voice, starting to move his hand again. Rather than the ruffle from before, his movements are a slow back and forth as he strokes Nicholas' hair the way he remembers Rem used to pet his own. ]
I guess I should treat myself with more kindness, huh?
[ There's a halfhearted huff coming from the covered lump at the praise, no real ire behind it when Vash actually does appreciate Wolfwood bringing him the water and a light snack. He's holding it all down remarkably well when every little movement seems to send his vision spinning, but at least it seems to clear some of the fogginess in his head and he's managing to stay seated upright. He may or may not be regretting whatever his choices were last night β certainly to drink far too much. Had there been a reason for that or had he just gotten carried away? He can't remember and he doesn't want to suffer the indignity of asking Wolfwood when his friend won't even tell him what he's supposed to be hating him for.
Sticking true that only sentiment he vaguely remembers, the blanket covering him is shifted and pulled back every so slightly so Vash can stare at Wolfwood with a baleful eye from the depths of it. He's telling him to stay put as if he's in any state to go anywhere. What a bad joke. He's also apparently leaving Vash on his own for reasons unknown.
He can't help but be both sullen and curious about it. ]
[ Even if Vash asked, Wolfwood couldn't answer that one. He'd found the blond idiot singing at the top of his lungs at the bar down the street, and the evening had just steamrolled on from there. Did some local dickhead say something that struck a nerve? Was he reminded of something sad, or was he celebrating? Wolfwood's got no idea. And maybe there wasn't anything that set the night off. Sometimes's a man's just got to drink until the world goes soft. Some days they all need a little softness.
But today's not that day, friend. Wolfwood drops down heavily at the foot of the bed to retie a loose shoelace, bouncing a little more than necessary, perhaps. ]
To work.
[ Because sure, he'd said that Vash had to pay for the extra night if they stayed, but Vash doesn't have any money, does he? He's flat broke, Wolfwood's certain, or close enough to flat broke for it to make no difference one way or the other. ]
Most places don't let you stay for free. Not even classy places like this dump.
[ Maybe Vash will eventually remember the reason why he's gotten himself into the state that he's in β he indulges, sure, but rarely quite to the point of being this incapacitated the next day β but right now he can't worry too much about it. Not when Wolfwood plops down heavily enough to make the mattress bounce and Vash wince when the abrupt jostling upsets his... well, everything. A bare foot appears from the lump of fabric to kick Wolfwood in the side in disgruntled retaliation. Although it's really more of a nudge when there's hardly any force behind it. It's not worth potentially making himself sick over and lose what little progress he's made holding any sustenance down. It gets his displeased sentiment across all the same.
Even though he knows he's supposed to hate Wolfwood for some mysterious reason and perhaps it deserves making himself an inconvenience in turn, Vash still can't help feeling bad at the answer. He's holding them back another day and making Wolfwood work to make up for the dent it puts in their already very limited funds. It's hard not to feel guilty even if he's supposed to be angry or whatever. ]
Do I really not have anything left?
[ Asked quietly and miserably, already well-aware of what the likely answer is going to be given the night he must have had. ]
[ The kick is pathetic, and Vash's sad little voice is even more pathetic. Some days Wolfwood really can't wrap his head around how the same person could hold off two dozen bandits without firing a shot one day, then turn into such a whiny little kid the next. ]
How should I know? Do I look like the kinda guy who'd go through another man's wallet?
[ It'd honestly just been easier to pay his tab last night than to try and get the pile of gangling arms and legs to focus long enough to pull his cash out. Still, if Vash has the $$60 for another night's stay in there, Wolfwood'll eat his towel. He's pretty sure all Vash's money went to buying drinks for other people. ]
If you've got the cash, then let's see it! Save me a day of haulin' crates.
[ He blurts out instantly without hesitation, glowering at his friend from beneath the makeshift hood. That's probably a little unfair and it's not that Vash truly thinks Wolfwood a thief, but he's not exactly in the most gracious of moods here.
Still, he feels bad and is fully prepared to foot the bill should he have the funds to do so. Which is highly debatable when he can't even remember most of the night. Knowing his drunken self, the likelihood he spend most if not all of his money is far from small. He can still hope though. Maybe he forgot his wallet, played cards for his drinks, or maybe he coasted along and drank at the generous behest of other patrons. All of it has happened before and so is certainly not impossible. He fervently hopes that's the case and he'll avoid becoming too much of a burden.
The foot is pulled back into the bundle of fabrics and a scarred arm appears instead, motioning vaguely to the other end of the room. ]
My wallet should be in my bag.
[ Sorry, but his bag is there on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. He is not getting up to go anywhere any time soon. Wolfwood is free to check for himself and see. ]
[ Yes, says Vash, without any hesitation, and Wolfwood raises his middle finger in Vash's direction, also without a moment's hesitation. Fuck you then, jerk. ]
Under your dirty socks? Forget it.
[ That's too much effort for not enough certainty of a reward. He'll just go find work somewhere for a few hours -- it's not so hot yet that manual labor will hurt too badly, and a town this size probably already has someone to pray over the dead -- and Mr. Hangover here can stay in his blanket cave and think about what he's done.
Wolfwood bounces extra getting up off the mattress just because he can, and considers then rejects the idea of bringing Punisher with him. It'll just draw attention he doesn't want today, and he's got his sidearm. It can stay here and keep Spikey company. ]
[ Between the raised middle finger, the dismissal, and the bounce (making Vash groan), Vash is suddenly feeling a lot less bad and charitable. If Wolfwood doesn't want to even bother trying to see if the funds are there, so be it. He can go out and work if he prefers that. If it didn't mean he would have to get up and retrieve it again, Vash would throw his pillow after Wolfwood's head. Instead he'll just have to settle on sounding as sulky as possible. ]
Fine, whatever. Have fun.
[ He'll probably feel bad and compelled to make up for being a burden again later. Right now he's simply relieved to have the bouncing menace go and be left to be miserable on his own. Unable to do anything else, he'll maybe do some reflecting on his actions, but mostly he'll slowly and painstakingly work on eating the rest of the protein bar and drinking the water until he feels he can lie down again.
The best thing he can do now is sleep it off until Wolfwood returns so that's what he does, dozing off thankfully made easier when the pounding of his head lessens thanks to the water and food. ]
[ He's not going to get much of a nap, sorry. Wolfwood's not particularly quiet heading out the door, but when he returns, barely an hour later, he's moving much more quietly. He's got his bag with him this time, and he drops it just inside the door and he shuts and locks it behind him.
Vash is still in bed. Shit. Wolfwood keeps his voice low, padding over to the bed to shake Vash awake. ]
Hey. Get dressed, we've gotta go.
[ Outside, perhaps a block away but moving closer, there's a small crowd gathering. It's hard to hear what they're saying, but the word Stampede is pretty damn clear. ]
[ It feels as though he'd only just fallen asleep proper when he's reluctantly dragged right back into the world of the waking via some rude shaking that feels rougher than it probably is because of his sorry state. The words don't make sense to Vash right away, but the low voice they're spoken in is enough to clue him in that something's wrong and for his eyes to snap open promptly. If it weren't for that, Wolfwood would have been in for quite a hissy fit if not for some staunch ignoring as Vash rolled over and attempted further sleep. As tempting as the latter still is, Vash can't ignore the urgency in his friend's tone.
Although groggy and disorientated, he's pushing himself up to get upright and reach for his clothes without further ado, ignoring the dizziness and the protest of his stomach when it disagrees with the speed of his motions. As swiftly as he can, he starts getting dressed as bid. Probably not as fast as either of them would have liked, but he's doing his best to be speedy while trying not to upset his body too much. It'll be no good if there are any delays because he's too busy throwing up again.
It takes him a moment or two to hear the commotion outside over the rushing of blood in his ears and the pounding of his head before it connects with what Wolfwood's saying and the full threat sinks in, chancing a glance over at him. ]
What happened?
hi, remember me? guess what i just found in my tag folder?
[ As soon as he's sure that Vash is awake and hearing him, Wolfwood's back on his feet, clearing out anything that was left in the washroom or on the table near the door, cramming all their supplies into the top of Vash's bag. ]
You drank with the wrong people last night, that's what happened.
[ He stands there a moment, Vash's satchel in hand, assessing the other man's sick and sweaty state. It's a pretty pathetic sight. Can Vash even run in his condition?
Guess they're gonna find out.
Without another word he slips Vash's bag onto his own shoulder next to his own, and goes to grab Punisher. ]
What kind of traitorous asshole wakes up in the morning and decides to sell out the guy who's responsible for his hangover?
[ His words are glib, but there's no mistaking the real anger beneath them. It's one thing when desperate people try to redeem the no-longer-in-effect bounty -- he can understand trading a stranger's life for a loved one's. But the folks in that mob outside were singing songs and telling lies with Vash last night. They were acting like his friends, and there's nothing lower than a friend who turns on you.
[ don't cater to his every whim, livio. he'll get too spoiled. ]
No, no, it's fine. You wanted me along, right? We can go.
[ vash is perfectly fine! just a little wasted (but not capital Wasted) and snug like a bug in a lil' burrito rug. although said burrito wrapping more looks like he got tangled in the sheets and gave up trying to get up, but eh. details. ]
leaps into ur arms belatedly, i hope you're feeling better
[ oops sorry buddy, didn't see you there from where he's rolled on his side texting from his burrito wrapping, but he'll roll over to look and beam up at him proper. hi!! :D ]
Of course!
[ there's nothing that his drunken bravado can't beat, obviously. but please continue to be a push-over, livio. it's such a fresh of breath air when vash is used to being bullied around and constantly put in his place. (even if deservedly so.)
he's... helpfully wiggling around at those hands trying to detangle him, whining in protest. truly the humanoid typhoon, feared by all. ]
Who says I'm stuck? Can't a man enjoy some burrito time.
[ vash is one of a kind. livio would never underestimate him, but seeing him drunk and rolling around stuck in a burrito.... well, it'd be easy to forget ]
[ but when swatted at he takes his hands back, as if chastised!! oh no!! vash doesn't actually want to come with him, he was just being polite! he wants to stay in this burrito mess! livio's the one being rude!!! ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
β for mercifullyheavy
[ Vash's giggling is quick to turn to pouting at the mention of no more cheering because: ]
Aww, but you deserve a cheers!
[ It's said wholeheartedly with genuine sincerity and after all Vash has had tonight, what's one more drink? At this point he figures it can't make much of a difference to the state he's already in. But before he can go hunting for a drink to replace his imaginary one so he can properly conclude the toast, Wolfwood is already adjusting his grip and steering him towards the door. It takes all of Vash's effort just to keep step with him on very unsteady feet, hurriedly giving his drinking buddies for the night a wave and a "byeeee~" before he disappears out of their view and is moved into the street. At least the outside air is sort of nice though it does nothing to help sober him up or make him comprehend Wolfwood's words any faster. Even with how heavily he's leaning against Wolfwood, all his attention is on putting one foot in front of the other so it takes a moment for the words to sink in. ]
Mmno, there was no cake or... or anything...
[ Rather, there was food available, he just didn't eat any of it. The only thing he'd been concerned with was getting as drunk as quickly as possible to outrun certain memories and... well, after passing through four different establishments, he's achieved that goal. There was a deliberation behind the excessive drinking and abstaining of food that, in all his wasted glory, has mostly slipped his mind. Unfortunately, his body hasn't forgotten one bit. ]
Wait, wait-
[ Vash is forced to stop and dig his heels in when all the motion makes his dizziness unbearable, squeezing his eyes shut and clapping a hand over his mouth like that alone might stop the dangerous rolling of his stomach.
Sorry Wolfwood, it's going to be slow going. ]
Curses Captcha! lol I'd noticed on my last tag that it had kicked in.
Ok, now I know you've had too much. Either that, or you get better at lying the more drunk you are. [Honestly, he would prefer it to just be the latter, because Vash giving him that kind of genuinely happy praise makes something twist in his chest that he doesn't want to think about. Which was why he was frankly relieved that getting him out the door and back to the inn seems to be a bit of an ordeal, with how unsteady he is on his feet, since it gave him something to distract from the weird little flutter it set off in his chest.
How one man can be both the clumsiest and the most agile creature in existence, he still has yet to figure out, but Vash manages to do it constantly. And the alcohol always seems to contribute less than one would expect, honestly.]
Well then, once you sleep off some of the booze, we can get you some of those fancy donuts in the morning to make up for the lack of cake, the ones with the sprinkles and whipped cream in the middle or whatever they're doing with them, these days. But you'd probably lose it all if we tried to give you that much sug-Oop- NO. Do not!
[If he could squirm away from him and keep him standing in one place, he was going to do it, angling away so that he was at least holding him up somewhat but was hopefully out of the danger zone if he lost his lunch. Not that he hadn't seen him to the point of vomiting before, but that was just reinforcing the little voice that he had had percolating in the back of his mind that said alcohol was a very specific type of problem for Vash, and he was not paid or trained well enough to help someone deal with that kind of a problem.
He wasn't even supposed to care in the first place, but that ship had already sailed a long time ago, and it was making everything so much harder.]
Come on, man, try sittin' down if you have to, maybe that'll help, but you're just gonna go from bubbly to miserable if you yack. [At the same time, it would help solve part of the problem of him having too much alcohol swimming around in his gut. Wolfwood sighed.] At least wait until we get you to the inn so you can take a shower after.
[No, he's not worrying. No, he's not fussing. He's irritated and grouchy and put out, that's all! The fact that the arm around his back was rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders to try and help him settle down was only because him getting sick out here would be a pain in the ass, that was it! And if anyone said anything to the contrary, he'd put a boot up their ass!]
tfln do be popular like that
A soft, little noise not unlike a whine escapes from behind the hand covering his mouth when Wolfwood reprimands him and shifts away as much as he can without fully letting go. He wants that line of heat pressed against his side back, wants to list against Wolfwood's side entirely when his knees are threatening to buckle, but he's forced to stand there and remain as still as he can lest he loses all the contents of his stomach right there and then. The suggestion of sitting down is tempting and Vash would do it if he wasn't convinced that he wouldn't be able to get back up again. Wolfwood would really have to carry him and he wants to avoid being more of a burden than he's already being.
So he stays put, eyes remaining squeezed shut as he tries to breathe through the waves of nausea. It helps to concentrate on just that, inhaling and exhaling deep shaky breaths through his nose, as well as the gentle hand that's come to rub soothing circles against his back. The contact is steadying and yet in other ways the kind touch makes him feel unmoored, chest tightening with emotions he's far too inebriated to recognize and name and so his mind shies away from them, focusing solely on the sensation itself. The intensity of his nausea lessens and even though he's afraid to move and set it off again, he wants to get back to their room as soon as possible. Wolfwood's right. He can't get sick out here and create a mess others will have to deal with, he needs to get to the bathroom at the very least. ]
S'okay. 'M okay.
[ He mumbles as he opens his eyes and slowly lowers his hand, closing the distance between them again with a wobbly step both so he can hold on better for support and so he can drop his head on Wolfwood's shoulder as drowsiness is starting to make it feel too heavy. ]
Let's go, I wanna sleep...
Yeah, I'm just a bit newer on that meme, so I'd always heard about the captchas but not seen it lol
What he wasn't quite sure how to deal with was the way, when he wobbled back up against his side and leaned on him for support again, the feeling of his head dropping onto his shoulder and the sound of his voice beginning to go muzzy made him feel some sort of way that was better left unaddressed.
Good luck with that, though. He still had to wrap his arm back around under his arms, holding him up and close so that when he began walking him again - slower and more carefully this time - he was safe and secure from the risk of dropping like a stone.]
I'm makin' you drink an entire canteen of water when we get back, just so you know. Otherwise, you'll be absolutely miserable the entire time we're on the road tomorrow. [And it had been hard enough for him as it was, the last time he'd conked out in the sidecar from a massive hangover, and Wolfwood had found himself wanting to reach down and brush his fingers through the rumpled hair on top of his head after he'd ended up leaning it against his leg to sleep. It was like having a cat snuggle up next to you when you least expected it. Before you knew it, you had reached down and were petting the damn thing without even meaning to, and so help him, if it turned out Vash purred if he petted him, he was screwed.
Getting through the door of the inn was one thing. Navigating the stairs with a blottoed Humanoid Typhoon was another thing entirely. He actually paused at the foot of the steps, stared up at them for a minute, and then sighed.]
Alright. One foot at a time, dumbass. Otherwise you'll fall over and take us both out.
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At least both the slower steps and the act of keeping his eyes closed to shut out the spinning world help to make the journey easier. Wolfwood's plan of forcing him to drink water gets a noise of dismayed protest out of him because the thought of putting any more liquid inside of himself when he could swear he can feel the alcohol sloshing around in his stomach with every step he takes is deeply unappealing. As is the thought of needing to be back on the road tomorrow. ]
Can't we just stay another day...
[ Perhaps not very feasible when their travel funds are already running low, but getting to take a day to sleep off and recover from the hangover he's no doubt going to suffer from is far more tempting than having to be sit in the sidecar for hours on end. He can already imagine how every bump in the road is going to upset his stomach and aching head.
It's not until Wolfwood halts in his tracks and seems to stay put that Vash finally cracks an eye open to see what the holdup is, promptly regretting it the second his gaze lands on the stairs. He'd forgotten all about those. They look about as impossible to climb with his jellied legs as trying to tread quicksand. Disheartened, he turns more into Wolfwood's side as though giving the stairs his back and pressing his face further into Wolfwood's shoulder might help him hide from them, exclaiming dramatically: ]
Ughh, jus' leave me here to die.
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Ooh, do you have the money for another day? Didn't know you were holdin' out on me, Needle-Noggin. Maybe I should make you pay next time. [As if he didn't already end up paying anyway, because he always seemed more willing to go out and just do all the menial labor and odd jobs that people needed, even dragging Nick unwillingly along for the ride half the time, whereas not every city had need of a priest at any given time.
He gave a little sigh, though, making a gesture with his head that wasn't a nod but also wasn't a shake, bobbing along placatingly.]
Either way, at least the water will keep you from feelin' worse tomorrow.
[And then Vash was pressing against his side and hiding his face in his shoulder, and it was a damn good thing he was both too drunk and not looking to notice the way it made him blush from the tips of his ears down to where his shirt was actually buttoned. He shook his head, wrapping the arm around his back a little more securely around him so that he wouldn't end up dropping like a stone.]
Nuh uh, come on, you know I'd have no problem carrying you up myself, but if I end up hoisting you over my shoulder like a sack of toma feed, you'll probably end up puking down my back and I'll be really pissed. You're not an infant, Blondie, you can use your legs.
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That is, if he ever makes it up the stairs.
That particular task seems insurmountable to him and it's not helped at all by the fact that he feels perfectly fine staying right where he is, leaning heavily against Wolfwood and utterly ignorant of his friend's flustered state. He's safe and warm, securely held, and there's little else he wants save for perhaps getting off of his unsteady feet. But even that seems to become more negligible with each passing second as drowsiness is catching up with him fast. Maybe he'll get to practice the art of falling asleep while standing up after all. Although it isn't necessary with how solidly Wolfwood is holding onto him, his free arm still comes up to curl his fingers in the front of Wolfwood's shirt to steady himself. ]
There are nicer ways of carrying people, y'know. Can't you... be gentler...?
[ He trails off muzzily, the argument escaping him somewhere halfway. Granted, even if weight isn't an issue, Vash is tall and all legs, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder probably is the easiest way to carry him. Wolfwood's right though: it would be a surefire way to get him to throw up. Being dangled upside down and having pressure put on his roiling stomach is the last thing he needs. ]
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'Gentler' he says, as if asking it in that tone that doesn't just put all sorts of mental images in his damned fool head, and he's not sure if it was just Vash being too drunk to actually think about the way the things he says sound, or is doing it on purpose.
Still, he obviously wasn't going to get up the stairs on his own two feet. He would not put it past Vash to just find a place downstairs to sleep it off instead of making the trip back up to their room. So eventually, Nick gave a pleading look up to the ceiling, as if asking the Lord above he barely even believed in to grant him strength, and then leaned down with a grumble, hooked his other arm behind Vash's knees, and hefted him up into his arms as if he weighed nothing at all. And then they were marching up the stairs, Nicholas grumbling under his breath the entire way.]
I swear, Needle-Noggin, you're gonna be the death of me one of these days.
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It takes a dizzying few seconds for him to grasp the situation before he's loosening his tight hold and... giggling in delight, utterly unfazed by the grumbling. ]
So strong~
[ Vash would be lying if he said he didn't get a kick out of how easily Wolfwood handles his lanky frame. Compared to the Punisher, he's probably nothing, but it's still impressive. He hasn't been carried like this since he was a child many, many years ago; a bittersweet thought that makes his heart ache the way it always does when he even vaguely thinks of Rem. At least the bout of nostalgia makes him more subdued again, settling comfortably in Wolfwood's hold and resting his head against his shoulder. It's not often he gets to feel like a kid again and usually it's only in moments of distress when he feels small and helpless β powerless to stop something despite his best efforts β so to feel safe and cared for in this way is a very rare treat. He can't help luxuriating in it, eyes going heavy once more as he murmurs appreciatively: ]
Thank you, Wolfwood.
β for tinico
[ For someone who normally runs around the desert in a full leather getup, hiding under a few blankets during the heat of day is hardly that much of a bother in comparison. At the moment it's well worth the trade-off when his raging hangover is making it difficult to tolerate any light and sound. Maybe if he were in a better condition, he would have propped things up to make something like a tent or blanket fort, but alas he's had to settle for being a miserable lump under a heap of blankets.
He's content to wait there, half-dozing, until the (thankfully muffled) knock on the door brings him fully into the present. ]
Come in!
[ He calls out only to wince at the loudness of his own voice. He means to sit up and greet his little guest properly, but all he manages is to stick his hand out of his nest of blankets to offer a wave when he hears the door open. Sorry bud, he's in quite a Stateβ’. ]
weeeh
His voice is also soft. ]
Hey. Um... I did bring some water. Nice and cold, at least for now.
[ It'll warm up, of course. But it should give a couple of small sips of relief, for the moment. ]
π«Ά
The gentle voice by his bedside and the lure of a cool glass of water does finally get the lump in the blankets to stir and rise up a bit. Although moving β much less in an upright position β makes the pounding in his head feel all the worse, the temptation of a little cold relief beats out the urge to remain very still in his too warm cocoon. ]
Thank you, Nicholas. You're a lifesaver, what would I do without you?
[ He manages with some humor and a grateful smile as his head appears from the blankets. ]
much of that back
Suffer, probably.
[ And, yes, he remembers to say it quietly. He also hands over the thermos in case more coolness will be welcome. ]
There you go.
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Most likely.
[ It's... rather shameful to have a child look after him like this, he knows. No one deserves to be burdened by him in such a state, much less someone so young who's already carrying far more responsibilities than he should. Vash really needs to start doing better. But what's done is done and Nicholas is here now, so very kind and considerate.
He takes a few measured sips, resisting the urge to down the whole thing in one go for fear of upsetting his stomach (again), and sighs in relief at the soothing coolness. He briefly presses the cold thermos against his temple before refilling his half-drunk glass and setting the thermos aside on his bedside table. Vash shifts on the bed, creating a space that he pats in invitation. ]
Sorry about this, I hope I didn't pull you away from too many chores.
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He rubs the back of his head. ]
It's not too bad today. I'll manage later. [ A small, proud smile. ] It's easier work when everyone is helping.
[ Of course it's not everyone, but enough are helping, some of the smaller ones learning and eager to join, that it's lighter, right now. (Some of the littler ones will get adopted, and there will be new ones, and there will be harder days again. Not today.) ]
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Although Nicholas doesn't seem to take up the invitation, Vash still leaves plenty of space on the bed as he settles back against the headboard in a cross-legged sit, nursing his glass of water. ]
I'm glad to hear it. I'll make it up to you and come around to help out soon too, 'kay?
[ Although the likelihood he'll get mobbed by the children and end up entertaining them all day instead of helping with chores is... quite high, going by previous experiences. ]
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And just very gently nudges at Vash's arm with his shoulder. Promised hug now, or not yet?
Besides, entertaining the children is also helping with the chores! In a way! ]
I think that'll be nice, if it's all right with you. [ And if it will mean he doesn't want to drink that badly, that's also good, right? Win-win. Or something like that.
Because he sure won't have a chance to drink under Miss Melanie's watchful eye. Even one day of break means no hangover the next day, too. ]
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Of course, I'd be happy to help. If you're ever short-handed, you can always let me know.
[ There's a reason why he settled close to the orphanage. Or as close to settled as Vash can get anyway. He isn't always around, his nomadic nature makes truly staying in one place hard, but he stays here longer and returns more often than most other places.
Although that doesn't really matter either way. Nicholas would only need to ask and Vash would come running. ]
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[ ... will he even be able to find him to tell him?
It doesn't matter.
Right now, he tucks himself under that arm, and wraps his arms as far as they will go against the man's chest, and rests his cheek against the hollow at the front of his shoulder.
Hug.
Beat.
This would be the time to say something nice. ]
... 'm glad if you're feelin' bad you didn't throw up.
[ Nailed it. ]
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Vash finds himself grateful to his past self for at least having somehow found the wherewithal to wash up and change into comfy clothing before crashing into bed after he came back from the bar. It means he doesn't still reek of alcohol and cigarettes when Nicholas tucks himself close. He reciprocates the embrace with no hesitation, wrapping his arm around Nicholas. He can't quite resist giving him a gentle squeeze concurrent with the swell of fondness he experiences before letting his arm rest around him loosely and comfortably, giving Nicholas the option to easily pull away whenever he wants to.
The weight and warmth of him is comforting against Vash's side; a balm to his aching heart that's admittedly far more potent than any liquor, but one much harder to reach for when he doesn't want to be selfish. Right now that doesn't seem to be a problem though, not when it seems Nicholas might have been just as much in need of a good hug.
The only somewhat coherent sentence gets a quiet chuckle out of Vash, both in amusement and slight sheepishness for the fact that he may or may not have thrown up the night before. ]
Thank you. Sorry if I worried you.
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And yes, the point is that there is no stench, and Nicholas is grateful! He would not have hesitated to give the hug even if there had been, though.
Anyway. He gives a small headshake that's just this side of a nuzzle, and is not letting go just yet. He is not in that much of a hurry, and there's no harm in hugs. ]
's alright. If you end up worryin' that I'll worry, that'll just make it worse, wouldn't it? You do what you do, and you are how you are. No need t'be sorry.
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Ahh, you're so wise and kind.
[ He hides his swell of emotions behind a playful tone. Resisting the urge to squeeze him tight in an impromptu bout of something close to cute aggression, Vash simply tilts his head down to the side, letting his cheek rest against Nicholas' hair. He admits with a wistful sigh: ]
But I know I need to do better.
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so fascinating to listen to.
Why me, he wants to ask, because there are so many people, his age or any age, woh are better and wiser and smarter, but he's pretty sure even if the man has an answer, beyond 'well you texted me back' or something like it, he might not give it. Instead... ]
What for? You need to do better for... what?
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Had Nicholas asked the question he'd wanted to ask, it would have indeed ended in an evasive non-answer because Vash can't just tell him that he's the reincarnation of his closest, dearest friend. He can't put that sort of thing on a grown person, much less a kid. It's a constant struggle for him to want to be near, to make sure Nicholas is safe and protected, and also wanting to keep away for that very same reason. Sometimes his selfishness wins out though and watching from afar gets too lonely. ]
Myself, I suppose.
[ He settles on and it's... not wrong, per se, but doing anything purely for himself is difficult. There's a beat before he adds to that statement, truthfully. ]
And the people who I know would want me to do better, but aren't around anymore to tell me so.
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So Nicholas appreciates him, and being around him, so in some ways he doesn't want to poke at it too much. He doesn't want to make him go away for good. (He'll go and he'll come back, and that's all right, but...) ]
Ah. That makes sense. When you're doing it for others, it's kind of easier, isn't it. Might not be easy, but it's easier. So I know you can do it. Just maybe it won't work all at once. Just small bits at a time?
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He hums in agreement that it is easier, not at all surprised that Nicholas understands when he does so much for the other children at the orphanage. ]
Well, if I have you believing in me, then I can't fail.
[ Least of all because he couldn't bear little Nicholas being disappointed in him. It's all the more incentive to start getting his act together a bit better.
He lifts his head so he can raise his hand to rest it on top of Nicholas' head instead, giving his hair a gentle ruffle. ]
I'll do my best. Step by step.
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's what I think anyone can do. I know even with the kids sometimes there's not much one can do. They'll cry in the night, or be afraid to go the loo on their own, or what have you. Must be even worse when you're grown up and you gotta decide everythin'. Over an' over again.
So if you, like. Yell at yourself 'bout it every time, that's not gonna help. Then you'd just wanna drink so it'll hurt less all over again. Wouldn't it?
[ It's the other reason why he doesn't mind helping. Vash seems to be always on his own, and that gets in the way of anything getting better, in his vast experience. So he'll keep on doing what little he thinks he can. ]
so sorry, i was convinced i already replied ;;
A reminder is certainly not out of order and very much appreciated, even if he somehow feels vaguely scolded from beyond the grave. ]
You're not wrong.
[ He admits with a smile in his voice, starting to move his hand again. Rather than the ruffle from before, his movements are a slow back and forth as he strokes Nicholas' hair the way he remembers Rem used to pet his own. ]
I guess I should treat myself with more kindness, huh?
β for lastdecember
[ There's a halfhearted huff coming from the covered lump at the praise, no real ire behind it when Vash actually does appreciate Wolfwood bringing him the water and a light snack. He's holding it all down remarkably well when every little movement seems to send his vision spinning, but at least it seems to clear some of the fogginess in his head and he's managing to stay seated upright. He may or may not be regretting whatever his choices were last night β certainly to drink far too much. Had there been a reason for that or had he just gotten carried away? He can't remember and he doesn't want to suffer the indignity of asking Wolfwood when his friend won't even tell him what he's supposed to be hating him for.
Sticking true that only sentiment he vaguely remembers, the blanket covering him is shifted and pulled back every so slightly so Vash can stare at Wolfwood with a baleful eye from the depths of it. He's telling him to stay put as if he's in any state to go anywhere. What a bad joke. He's also apparently leaving Vash on his own for reasons unknown.
He can't help but be both sullen and curious about it. ]
Where are you going?
no subject
But today's not that day, friend. Wolfwood drops down heavily at the foot of the bed to retie a loose shoelace, bouncing a little more than necessary, perhaps. ]
To work.
[ Because sure, he'd said that Vash had to pay for the extra night if they stayed, but Vash doesn't have any money, does he? He's flat broke, Wolfwood's certain, or close enough to flat broke for it to make no difference one way or the other. ]
Most places don't let you stay for free. Not even classy places like this dump.
no subject
Even though he knows he's supposed to hate Wolfwood for some mysterious reason and perhaps it deserves making himself an inconvenience in turn, Vash still can't help feeling bad at the answer. He's holding them back another day and making Wolfwood work to make up for the dent it puts in their already very limited funds. It's hard not to feel guilty even if he's supposed to be angry or whatever. ]
Do I really not have anything left?
[ Asked quietly and miserably, already well-aware of what the likely answer is going to be given the night he must have had. ]
no subject
How should I know? Do I look like the kinda guy who'd go through another man's wallet?
[ It'd honestly just been easier to pay his tab last night than to try and get the pile of gangling arms and legs to focus long enough to pull his cash out. Still, if Vash has the $$60 for another night's stay in there, Wolfwood'll eat his towel. He's pretty sure all Vash's money went to buying drinks for other people. ]
If you've got the cash, then let's see it! Save me a day of haulin' crates.
no subject
[ He blurts out instantly without hesitation, glowering at his friend from beneath the makeshift hood. That's probably a little unfair and it's not that Vash truly thinks Wolfwood a thief, but he's not exactly in the most gracious of moods here.
Still, he feels bad and is fully prepared to foot the bill should he have the funds to do so. Which is highly debatable when he can't even remember most of the night. Knowing his drunken self, the likelihood he spend most if not all of his money is far from small. He can still hope though. Maybe he forgot his wallet, played cards for his drinks, or maybe he coasted along and drank at the generous behest of other patrons. All of it has happened before and so is certainly not impossible. He fervently hopes that's the case and he'll avoid becoming too much of a burden.
The foot is pulled back into the bundle of fabrics and a scarred arm appears instead, motioning vaguely to the other end of the room. ]
My wallet should be in my bag.
[ Sorry, but his bag is there on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. He is not getting up to go anywhere any time soon. Wolfwood is free to check for himself and see. ]
no subject
Under your dirty socks? Forget it.
[ That's too much effort for not enough certainty of a reward. He'll just go find work somewhere for a few hours -- it's not so hot yet that manual labor will hurt too badly, and a town this size probably already has someone to pray over the dead -- and Mr. Hangover here can stay in his blanket cave and think about what he's done.
Wolfwood bounces extra getting up off the mattress just because he can, and considers then rejects the idea of bringing Punisher with him. It'll just draw attention he doesn't want today, and he's got his sidearm. It can stay here and keep Spikey company. ]
Be a good boy while I'm gone!
no subject
Fine, whatever. Have fun.
[ He'll probably feel bad and compelled to make up for being a burden again later. Right now he's simply relieved to have the bouncing menace go and be left to be miserable on his own. Unable to do anything else, he'll maybe do some reflecting on his actions, but mostly he'll slowly and painstakingly work on eating the rest of the protein bar and drinking the water until he feels he can lie down again.
The best thing he can do now is sleep it off until Wolfwood returns so that's what he does, dozing off thankfully made easier when the pounding of his head lessens thanks to the water and food. ]
no subject
Vash is still in bed. Shit. Wolfwood keeps his voice low, padding over to the bed to shake Vash awake. ]
Hey. Get dressed, we've gotta go.
[ Outside, perhaps a block away but moving closer, there's a small crowd gathering. It's hard to hear what they're saying, but the word Stampede is pretty damn clear. ]
We're about to have company.
no subject
Although groggy and disorientated, he's pushing himself up to get upright and reach for his clothes without further ado, ignoring the dizziness and the protest of his stomach when it disagrees with the speed of his motions. As swiftly as he can, he starts getting dressed as bid. Probably not as fast as either of them would have liked, but he's doing his best to be speedy while trying not to upset his body too much. It'll be no good if there are any delays because he's too busy throwing up again.
It takes him a moment or two to hear the commotion outside over the rushing of blood in his ears and the pounding of his head before it connects with what Wolfwood's saying and the full threat sinks in, chancing a glance over at him. ]
What happened?
hi, remember me? guess what i just found in my tag folder?
You drank with the wrong people last night, that's what happened.
[ He stands there a moment, Vash's satchel in hand, assessing the other man's sick and sweaty state. It's a pretty pathetic sight. Can Vash even run in his condition?
Guess they're gonna find out.
Without another word he slips Vash's bag onto his own shoulder next to his own, and goes to grab Punisher. ]
What kind of traitorous asshole wakes up in the morning and decides to sell out the guy who's responsible for his hangover?
[ His words are glib, but there's no mistaking the real anger beneath them. It's one thing when desperate people try to redeem the no-longer-in-effect bounty -- he can understand trading a stranger's life for a loved one's. But the folks in that mob outside were singing songs and telling lies with Vash last night. They were acting like his friends, and there's nothing lower than a friend who turns on you.
He should know. ]
C'mon, hurry up.
β for crimebaby
[ don't cater to his every whim, livio. he'll get too spoiled. ]
No, no, it's fine. You wanted me along, right? We can go.
[ vash is perfectly fine! just a little wasted (but not capital Wasted) and snug like a bug in a lil' burrito rug. although said burrito wrapping more looks like he got tangled in the sheets and gave up trying to get up, but eh. details. ]
leaps into ur arms belatedly, i hope you're feeling better
Are ya sure yer up to this, Vash? [ the girls can put him in his place, clearly. livio will just continue to be a huge loser ]
[ but wow, he really got himself tangled. livio wonders sometimes how this guy can be the humanoid typhoon ]
... And how did ya even manage to get this stuck?
[ he starts to try to detangle vash from the sheets without tearing them, and..... well, it is not easy ]
weh thank you, i do!!
Of course!
[ there's nothing that his drunken bravado can't beat, obviously. but please continue to be a push-over, livio. it's such a fresh of breath air when vash is used to being bullied around and constantly put in his place. (even if deservedly so.)
he's... helpfully wiggling around at those hands trying to detangle him, whining in protest. truly the humanoid typhoon, feared by all. ]
Who says I'm stuck? Can't a man enjoy some burrito time.
[ yeah no, he's totally stuck. ]
sorry for the delay!!! i'm glad you're better
[ but when swatted at he takes his hands back, as if chastised!! oh no!! vash doesn't actually want to come with him, he was just being polite! he wants to stay in this burrito mess! livio's the one being rude!!! ]
S-Sorry....
Um... I'll let ya rest.....
[ you win this round, vash (?) ]