Guided Steps | By : ctsama Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 4790 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Sorry for the wait, guys.
Ever hear of cyclic migraines?
Yeah, that’s what causes delays.
Even with the brightness way down on my computer looking at the screen
hurts my eyes and head horribly. But
this chapter is a long one, so here ya go!
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
**************************************************************************************
‘Found ya.’
At last he’d finally reached it. Wolfwood approached the lone homestead that
seemed to stand defiant against the desert’s sweltering oppression.
He knew without a doubt that Vash was inside. He could just… feel it.
The car had given up quite a ways back, forcing him to hike
the last three iles in the blistering heat of the afternoon. Under normal circumstances three iles was a
lazy stroll down the lane, but his injuries made every step a grueling trial.
Still, he’d made it this far in record time. Driving too fast for the terrain had stalled
the car out in the first place, not that he’d had much choice in the
matter. Three hours into the drive
exhaustion forced him to stop the car to rest for just a moment. A waiting nightmare sucked him in as soon as
his eyes closed. Fear and loneliness
crushed down on him until he awoke gasping for breath. He started the car once more, glancing at the
clock as he did so.
Only three minutes had passed. His fear for Vash had taken over completely
after that and he drove hard and fast, forsaking any other attempts at rest.
He stumbled yet again in the soft sand and cursed as a lance
of pain shot through his gut. Soon after
a wet feeling spread out along the bandaging in the front. ‘Shit.
Ripped something open. If it
doesn’t kill me Luida will.’ Her
warnings had been needless. He knew good
and well he hadn’t healed enough from the fight with Legato to make this kind
of journey, but there was no help for it.
Finding Vash was the only thing on his mind so he forced himself to keep
going.
A figure sitting on the porch of the house drew his attention. Through the distortion of the heat off the
sand he could barely see that it was Vash.
His assessment was confirmed when the person saw him, stood and started
toward him. A relieved smile began to
curl his lips and he forced himself to move a little faster.
When Vash came closer the haziness of the heat waves faded,
and with it went Wolfwood’s smile. Vash’s wavy figure resolved into the sharp image of Knives.
Knives was close enough to see the play of emotion across
Wolfwood’s face. Dealing with his own
emotions was new but he remembered this from not long ago. Seeing the light of hope die a hard death in
the eyes of any human used to please him greatly. Despair followed, another one of his former
favorites. Now the pleasure in it had
fled, leaving a sickening pain in its wake.
An adrenaline surge allowed Wolfwood to move at almost his
usual speed; pistols free of their holsters and trained on Knives before he
even realized his ex-servant was armed.
Not that it would do any good.
Knives could slice him to ribbons any second now. “If I’ve come this far to die, I’m taking as
big a chunk of you with me as I can.”
Knives swallowed hard trying to think. Since Vash’s outburst he’d known this moment
was coming, had spent hours dreading it and dwelling on it, but he still had no
idea what to say. If only Vash were
there to tell him what to do, how to even begin to make amends…
He finally decided now wasn’t the time for
explanations. He just held his open
hands out at his sides. “You’re, ah…
you’re safe here,” he said, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt.
Wolfwood’s eyebrows drew down in confusion as he tried to
figure out what kind of game Knives was playing at. “Safe? Bullshit.
There’s nothing ‘safe’ about you.
What are you doing out here? No,
scratch that. Tell me where Vash is, and
I mean now,” Wolfwood snarled, hand
tightening on the trigger. ‘Why the hell
hasn’t he killed me?’
“Vash is inside there,” he nodded toward the house. “He’s unconscious, but he’s alive.”
Wolfwood ran through every curse he knew trying to figure
out what the hell was going on. No doubt
that this was Knives, despite the dark hair that had replaced all but a tiny
sliver of blond at his left temple. But
he spoke differently, even moved differently, and his eyes… Those were the biggest difference. They held no trace of that all-consuming
hatred that had once defined him.
Knives held still to wait Wolfwood out, meeting his eyes and
letting him see and judge the change Vash had wrought in him. The screen door to the house slammed shut
behind him and he saw horror creep over Wolfwood’s face.
A round-eyed, dark haired little boy came running out as
fast as he could. In Wolfwood’s mind
visions of his family soaked in blood overlaid the scene before him and he took
aim for Knives’ head, desperate to stop the inevitable. But it was too late; he couldn’t get a shot
off because he kneeled and the kid was…
…standing in front of Knives?! Oh, god, not a child, don’t
make me watch him kill a child, please, no…
“What’re you doing?” the boy yelled at the stunned priest
indignantly. “Don’t threaten Jacob-san!”
Upon hearing the name a story Melanie had told him came to
mind. Jacob, the brother who stole
everything from his twin. Stole
everything, and later regretted it so much he changed his life, apologized and
made amends.
‘Oh, fuck. Is this… for real?’
The pistols slipped from nerveless fingers to splash into
the sand. Knives stood and put a hand on
the boy’s head, smiling kindly. “It’s
all right, Calito. This is Nicholas,
he’s a… a friend. We were just playing a
game. Why don’t you go back inside and
see if your Dad needs any help with dinner?”
Calito jumped to the task at speed, his trust in this… fiend plain to see. Wolfwood’s strength drained from him and he
dropped to his knees. A child… is
defending Knives…? What the hell was
going on? Somehow, the world had changed
around him and he didn’t know anything anymore.
Nothing at all, except…
“Vash,” he said so quietly Knives had to come closer to
hear.
“Maybe, ah… Maybe I
should try and explain first–”
“Either take me to Vash or kill me now. I think … yeah, I’m too fucking tired to
really care which right now.”
“All right,” Knives said after a moment’s hesitation. If he had managed to break Wolfwood into this
kind of docility years ago – or at any time – it would have filled him with
satisfaction. But now he knew everything
about it was wrong. “Come inside.
I’ll take you to him.”
Wolfwood got up slowly, painfully, no longer caring if it
showed. When Knives started toward the
house he followed in a daze. The slim
hope of seeing Vash propelled him forward even as his steps became more and
more difficult to take.
Knives led him into the house, turning to study him with
nervous eyes every so often, but Wolfwood didn’t even seem to be aware of his
scrutiny. Alerted by Calito Jenk rushed
forward when he appeared but Knives stopped him short with a piercing look and
a small shake of the head. Jenk nodded
slowly and moved back to the kitchen with Calito. Wolfwood never even noticed the near
interruption.
When they finally reached Vash’s room Wolfwood heaved a
shuddering breath, leaning against the doorframe to support him against the
dizzying wave of relief that swept through him.
The soft, cream-colored bed sheets covered Vash’s body to
the waist, giving Wolfwood a view of newly formed scars. The only other change was his hair, now as
dark as his own framed against the stark white pillow. The shock of blond that remained at the crown
of his head was a little over three times the size as the one left to Knives.
“He’s really all right,” Wolfwood murmured.
Knives nodded. “He’s
been asleep like that since I brought him here.
We both used up a lot of energy and I think he couldn’t handle the
strain. He’s only come out of it once
and when he did… he called for you.”
“No rest for the wicked, eh Tongari?” He spoke quietly, with a small smile and
Knives wondered if he’d been forgotten.
“You’re injured, aren’t you?”
Wolfwood looked down at himself, finally remembering the
blood that was seeping slowly out of him.
Somehow he’d managed to forget about the hole in his gut. “Oh.
Yeah.” It didn’t seem to have
penetrated the thick bandaging, but maybe Knives could smell the blood on
him. Predators could do things like that.
“Since you know he’s safe now, how about letting me take a
look?”
Though mental shock and exhaustion had blunted his senses,
everything within Wolfwood rose up in rebellion at the mention of having
Knives’ hands on him. “Touch me and I’m
putting you through a wall, even if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he growled.
“I wouldn’t… I mean, ah…”
Words were so useless. Even a child knew that, and Knives struggled
desperately. “What about someone else,
then? The man who owns this place is a
doctor. Maybe he could help–”
A small surge of angry adrenaline kicked in and gave
Wolfwood just enough energy to maintain focus, however briefly. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here
but as far as I know you’re screwing my mind again and this is all some crazy
trick to hurt Vash somehow. So until he
wakes up you stay the fuck away from me,” he growled.
Knives felt the words like a blow. The venom in Wolfwood’s words hurt, but not
nearly so much as the knowledge that he’d methodically earned every bit of it. He couldn’t hold that angry gaze and dropped
his stinging eyes to the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists in time to
the ache in his chest. “I… won’t hurt
you,” he managed. He took a step back
without another word and Wolfwood quickly lurched past him into the room where
Vash slept. He barely made it the five
steps to his bed.
Too exhausted to do otherwise he dropped heavily into the
rocker at Vash’s bedside. “I’m here
now,” he sighed. His body – taxed almost
as far beyond its limits as his mind – slumped forward, falling partly over the
bed with a groan and he was asleep before he had fully settled. Vash made his first movement since his brief
and violent awakening days before: his arm flailed out at the same moment
Wolfwood fell across the bed. His hand
fell just a few inches short of Wolfwood’s own.
Knives walked the few steps to the chair, watching the two
trying to connect with each other even in sleep. He pulled the covers back before turning to
Wolfwood, sliding one arm under his knees very slowly just in case his earlier
threat transcended unconsciousness. Once
he was sure there would be no violent reaction he braced his other arm around
the priest’s shoulders and lifted him with ease.
He placed Wolfwood into bed next to his brother carefully,
mindful of the potentially numerous injuries that he couldn’t see. Vash curled into him immediately, murmuring
something into his neck too softly for Knives to hear.
He frowned when he realized the ache inside him was stronger
than before. He covered the two with the
sheets and left the room, despairing of what it would take to lessen the
feeling as he closed the door behind him and walked away.
**************************************************************************************
Wolfwood fought off any semblance of a waking state for as
long as he could. Judging by his
internal clock only a couple of hours had passed, not enough for him to recover
much of his strength. Finally the feel
of fingers lightly stroking along his jaw gave him an incentive to rouse
himself. He sighed; it felt good enough
for him to ignore the fact that his stomach hurt a lot more than it
should. He moved his head into that
gentle hand and was rewarded with a more substantial touch. “Nice,” he murmured.
“These dreams just keep getting more and more real,” Vash
sighed. “Stay with me this time?”
“This ain’t a dream, Tongari. I told you I’d find you.” The hand stroking his face slowed and finally
stilled. He opened his eyes and came
face to face with pure joy shining from the blue. He opened his mouth to ask why, but Vash’s
lips on his stopped the words.
Surprise gave way to an almost profound sense of peace. The tenderness of it made Wolfwood shiver and
he finally began to feel clean again for the first time since he and Vash had
parted ways.
With one last, almost chaste press of their lips together
Vash pulled away again, his lips curled into a smile that showed both happiness
and relief in equal measure. “You’re
really here.”
“Yeah, well… You saved the whole fucking world, and maybe
Earth too. I figure you’ve earned a
double batch of donuts.”
“You first. Donuts
later,” he said, nuzzling into Wolfwood’s neck as the other man chuckled. “How long was I out?”
“I dunno. Three days,
maybe four. Long enough for you to force
march me across half the damn desert.
Talk about a slave driver.”
“…Huh?”
Vash blinked at him in innocent confusion and Wolfwood
couldn’t bring himself to explain. “Oh,
just… Never mind,” he sighed.
Vash happily made himself comfortable once more. “Hey, your skin feels cool. I think we need another blan… ket…” he
trailed off, frowning as something caught his eye. He sucked in a breath and reached slowly for
the collar of Wolfwood’s shirt where a shadow stood out against skin that was a
still a few shades paler than its usual tan.
He pulled down on the material and it was enough to reveal
the extent and shape of the dark bruising around his neck.
Finger marks. But if
Legato was close enough to choke him…
‘Oh, please no. Let
me be wrong. Please.’
“Nick…?” he asked quietly.
“What... um… what happened?”
Wolfwood met his eyes but said nothing, letting his silence
speak for him. Vash swallowed hard and
reached out to begin undoing buttons. So
intent on his task was he that the feel of Wolfwood’s hand closing gently
around his wrist startled him.
“Don’t look. Just
don’t look, okay?” He touched the side
of Vash’s face with his other hand, dark eyes strangely compassionate. Vash closed his eyes and tears squeezed out
at the corners. “Don’t look,” Wolfwood
whispered again with a slight shake of his head. “You don’t have to look. Two days, maybe three and there won’t be
anything left to see.”
When Vash was finally able to open his eyes again and speak
he did so with equal quiet. “I have to
know.” He waited and Wolfwood let his
wrist go, allowing his hands to continue their trembling progress. The buttons were easy to undo, and the pants
and boxers slipped easily off. The shirt
was more difficult, requiring Wolfwood to sit up to slide the thing down his
arms. It hurt him, Vash could tell, but
he bore it without complaint.
Vash didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t
this. This was simply… an abomination.
In Vash’s opinion Wolfwood had the most perfect body in the
known universe. Legato had turned it
into a monument to suffering. Healing
gunshot wounds, scratches, cuts and gouges and bandaging on either side of him
that spoke of a grievous injury underneath… if Vash didn’t know what to look
for he’d have missed what Wolfwood thought he didn’t need to see. Mottled, yellowing bruises that no fight
should have caused. On his hips, around
his ankles, inside his thighs, at his shoulders and all the way around his
wrists and neck. An animal… only an
animal could have done this and the proof of that lay before him in the form of
a vicious bite mark at the back of his guide’s left shoulder. It had been hard enough to break the skin.
Vash was no fool. He
well knew how dangerous his own anger could be.
To someone in command of vast amounts of energy simply losing one’s
temper could have disastrous consequences.
And yet… someone had taken the man he loved, mounted, bitten and fucked
him like a dog in the dirt.
What else could he do?
His right hand clenched tightly and he was only distantly
aware of the warning burn thrumming through his arm. “Was it like this the first time?” Vash
demanded in a hoarse whisper. After a
few seconds he realized Wolfwood had no intention of giving a reply and that
further fueled his anger. “Answer me,
Nick. I had to pass by your room every
time I left the inn. If I had just
stopped, just kicked your damn door open like I should have…”
“You would have seen a lot worse than this. Is that enough, or do you need to hear more?”
The anger flooded him so quickly that Vash drew in a sharp
breath and his eyes snapped shut. It
felt so good, the way it rushed in and took away the sting of pain. Power sang through him in a way he’d never
let it before. Promises of punishment,
revenge, blood, death to the one
who’d harmed Wolfwood–
“Legato is dead, Vash.
Who are you going to hurt?”
Vash growled in annoyance because that meddlesome voice,
that distracting voice bothering him with trifling matters deserved an answer
because he loved that voice. “Anyone,”
Vash hissed. “Everyone, I don’t
care. No more threats. No more danger. Even if I have to bring this world down in
flames I’ll never let you be hurt again.”
Wolfwood knew the signs of Vash losing himself to an immense
power; he’d seen it twice before. Those
times had been terrifying. Now though,
he was no longer afraid. He knew Vash. Knew that no matter what had happened with
Knives, nothing could have changed him so drastically as to turn him into a
murderer. If he could just slap Vash in
the face with that fact…
“All right,” he agreed.
“Knives is around here somewhere.
Why don’t you start by killing him?
It probably wouldn’t take much.”
Yes, of course, that made perfect sense. He could feel Knives in the house. Wolfwood was right, it wouldn’t take much to
finish him off. Why not start
there? No one left alive was more
deserving. Power gathered within him and
prepared to strike and it felt so damned good.
Wolfwood could feel the hair on the back of his neck
standing up, rising with the charge in the air.
But he simply sat, strangely calm in the presence of an infuriated
plant.
Suddenly the sick grin slid off Vash’s face. The tension in the room broke with an audible
snap and Vash’s expression crumpled.
Wolfwood smiled to himself. ‘At least some things are the still the
same.’ Tears gathered in Vash’s eyes and
fell as he cried silently. “Damn,”
Wolfwood said, moving forward. “I was
really hoping you’d do it.”
It startled a chuckle out of Vash. “Shut up, shitty priest.” Wolfwood touched his fingers to Vash’s cheeks
and wiped the wetness away. When Vash
finally looked him in the eye he leaned close enough to kiss him. Vash’s lips were rigid against his for a
moment before they yielded with an obvious hesitance. Wolfwood rewarded him by deepening the kiss
until Vash brought his own arms to wrap carefully around his waist. When the blazing heat in Vash’s right arm
cooled to something more normal Wolfwood pulled away with a sigh.
“Done with your little temper tantrum?”
Vash snorted. “Don’t
compare my righteous fury to a hissy fit.”
“You’re pissed off and you want to beat the shit outta
somebody. Believe me, I get it.”
“Well, if you understand then you could at least indulge me
a little bit.”
“Giving in to the rage once makes it easier to do it the
next time. No way am I gonna let you
turn into what Knives was. ‘Specially
not using me as an excuse.”
“You came back from it,” Vash said softly, remembering the
painful storm of suffocating rage that had pressed in on him when Wolfwood had
allowed him into his mind.
“It ain’t like I enjoyed going through life with all that
shit on my back. It was just… fuel to
keep going. If I hadn’t held onto it I
wouldn’t have survived. When I killed
Legato I used it all up and I don’t want it back. I’m tired of being angry. I don’t want to cry about what he did, and I
don’t want to live in it. I just need it
to be finished. Can you do that? Can you let it be over?”
“I… don’t know. But
if that’s really what you need… I can try.”
“Good. I won’t ask
for more than that. Now just shut up for
a while,” Wolfwood sighed, wearily resting his head on Vash’s shoulder. “I want to know how you ended up here, and
what the hell you did to Knives, but it can wait.”
The creeping wetness under the bandage drew Wolfwood’s
attention once more. He was sure he
should mention it, but Vash’s hand came up to bury itself in his hair and it
was so relaxing he decided it could wait.
There, sitting up in Vash’s arms he had almost dozed off when he heard
it.
“I love you.”
It was so quiet, just a whisper past his ear and his heart
started thudding a frantic rhythm in his chest.
Now fully awake, he argued with himself over whether or not Vash had
actually spoken. Eventually his special
brand of logic led him to the only answer he could afford to entertain and he
buried his head in Vash’s shoulder with a harsh chuckle. Vash frowned.
“Nick?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Just losing my mind again.”
“Nick.” Vash pushed
him away just enough to look into the dark eyes. “I love you.”
“You, ah… what?”
“Is it so hard to believe?”
Wolfwood’s eyes were so wide, so full of doubt that it broke Vash’s
heart to see. “Never mind. Stupid question. It’s taken me so long… I’m sorry.”
Wolfwood just stared into his eyes, searching. The sincerity he found there in the deep blue
began an inescapable loss of control.
Gentle, feather-light kisses landed on his cheeks and they
weren’t enough. The next time those soft
lips landed near his mouth he turned his head and met them with his own.
Wolfwood’s mouth crashed into his own and Vash was
momentarily stunned at the change. But
he knew Wolfwood’s body, craved its responses and couldn’t help answering in
kind. His guide’s fingers clutched
desperately at his shoulders, pulling Vash closer to him. Vash sought to aid him, circling an arm
around his waist and sliding him into his lap.
As soon as Wolfwood’s weight settled a small cry of pain broke over him
like ice water and the spell for Vash was broken. ‘It’s only been three days at the most. He’s still hurting from Legato.’
Despite the pain Wolfwood rocked his hips forward. His naked arousal pressed fully against
Vash’s own through his pants and he groaned long and low at the sensation. He managed to disentangle himself with
difficulty. “Nick, hey, we have to
stop.”
The words didn’t register at first. All Wolfwood knew was that Vash was pushing
him away, taking away the one thing he needed most and never thought he would
have. In that moment, another spike to
the gut would have been less painful.
Wolfwood looked at him and Vash was struck speechless by his
wounded gaze. “You’re not ready for this
yet,” he finally managed. “You need more
time to heal, Nick.”
He heard Vash this time, but he was talking about things
that didn’t matter. Three words softly
spoken had destroyed all of Wolfwood’s remaining defenses around his heart, and
Vash’s actions had lodged a knife in it.
Even now he was moving away, putting space between them and he couldn’t
go back to that, to being an island unto himself.
‘What did you expect, Wolfwood?’ he thought bitterly. ‘How could he ever love you…?’
Vash was still looking at him sadly, speaking words of love
and waiting and caution that should have been comforting in their concern but
instead shot rejection through him with every sound.
The cold moved in, clawed at him. Vash’s voice was distant and he remembered
Luida’s warning about his injuries. But
it didn’t really seem important now. He
was tired of hoping, tired of hurting inside and tired of fighting.
Vash saw him shutting down and his mind raced trying to
figure out what had just gone wrong. “I
love you, Nick. I just don’t want to
hurt you.”
“What the hell do you call this?”
It was quietly muttered, an afterthought but that’s all it
took for Vash to realize what was happening.
Several curses later he verbally backpedaled as fast as he could but
Wolfwood ignored him. He just lay down,
curled in on himself and tried to still the shivering in his body.
Vash’s warm hand fell gently on his shoulder. The searing heat felt good on his skin but he
knocked it away. Vash cared, but it
wasn’t enough anymore. He needed much
more than that and could no longer bear to accept anything less. “Just leave me alone,” he said softly, sounding
more drained than anything else.
The room was silent after that, and he held his breath until
Vash’s departing weight shifted the mattress.
The door clicked shut and the sound echoed in his ears.
***************
Hmm… Knives seems to be in shock. I wonder what’ll happen when he finds his
balance in all these new emotions. The
same can kinda be said for Wolfwood.
Should be interesting!
To B: There are very few accidental moments in this story;
I’ve got everything planned out to a degree that’s almost pathological. And I would totally rather have a Wolfwood
fairy on my side than Tinkerbell any day of the week! ;)
To deviant_neko:
Thank you~! The reunion is coming
right up. It’s got a little delicious
and a bit more sap, but you know these guys can’t do things the easy way. I hope it satisfies!
To PrettyArbitrary: Seriously, many thank you’s for taking such
time to go into such detail with your reviews. ::swoons with happiness:: Those are the ones that help me the most. You touched on soooo many things that had me
doing the happy dance (would you believe it took me three days to figure out
how to work in that line about the idiot whisperer?! But it was too good a line to let die!). And yes, Wolfwood is my favorite character by
far, so you got it in one. But Livio is
my absolute favorite to write. He’s so
sweet, such a good guy, but… like you said, he’s a little crazy! How can I show my gratitude for such a great
review? Oh yeah! Have more story!
Yep, it’s a double dose!
Hit the ‘next chapter’ button, everyone…
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