Wolfwood reached into his pack of cigarettes, to find that there was only one left. He wanted Vash to be furious with him, to show some emotion other than complete and utter apathy for even considering taking Eye of Michael’s offer. Vash did-but briefly, nonsensically, Wolfwood wished that he hadn’t. He had no idea why his hands only started to shake now, when they’d been steady all this time. Vash, staring wistfully at Wolfwood like he was something precious that was just out of reach. Vash, giggling and laughing while he and Wolfwood tried on pair after ridiculous pair of sunglasses at the thrift store. Images flashed through Wolfwood’s mind-Vash in the cafe, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure as he bit into the donut for the first time. Then he said, every word landing like a blow despite the softness of his tone, “But I did eat and laugh, Wolfwood. Everyone deserves to-to eat, and to laugh.” Your life is worth something because you’re you, not because you’re useful, or whatever. Arguing with Vash about this made him feel like the biggest fucking hypocrite in the world. Wolfwood let out an exhausted sigh, and flicked the cigarette butt into the street. “At least this way my life will be worth something.” He was already speaking in the past tense, like the outcome of this was a foregone conclusion. We couldn’t have stayed ahead of them forever,” Vash said at last. “I mean, you’ve been thinking it yourself. As Wolfwood watched him, he felt his temper begin to drain away how could he get angry with Vash, when he’d clearly spent his entire life getting comfortable with the knowledge that his continued existence depended entirely on how useful he was to the Eyeto Eye of Michael? Vash’s jaw worked for a moment as he desperately tried-and failed-to come up with a satisfactory response. “Then how did you mean it, Vash? Explain it to me.” “Yeah?” Wolfwood asked, still boiling with barely-contained anger. There was no one else here though, and- fuck it, but he was pissed. At any other time, in any other circumstances, he would’ve been embarrassed by such a public outburst. Wolfwood’s final shouted word echoed up and down the street, piercing the eerie lifelessness of the town. “Oh, it’s that fucking easy, is it? Yeah, sure, no problem! I’ll just fucking give you back to the people who tortured you for literally your entire life!” Then overwhelming fury surged through him, so fierce that the edges of his vision went hazy and red around the edges. Wolfwood froze, momentarily too stunned to speak. Vash turned to him, his wide eyes flashing in the darkness like a cat’s. “They made me an offer.” He didn’t think he needed to explain the specifics-there was only one thing that he wanted from Eye of Michael, and only one thing he could give in exchange. Wolfwood’s voice was gruff, rasping in his throat on the way out. So far away from the city, the stars were particularly bright and plentiful, like some divine being had scooped up great handfuls and splattered them against the canvas of night. Wolfwood didn’t reply, just kept staring up into the sky. Wolfwood exhaled and watched the plume of smoke dissipate into the darkness. He never would’ve had to weigh his age-old desire to find his younger brother against the life of someone he was legitimately starting to care for, which carried a swiftly approaching expiration date anyway. It was just…if he’d never met Vash, this fucking awful conundrum never would’ve been dropped into his lap. Even knowing what he did now, he couldn’t imagine turning Vash away. Hindsight was 20/20, of course-he never could’ve predicted how this was going to shake out-but god, he wished that he hadn’t been such a bleeding heart, wished that he’d just told Vash to fucking leave. Right now though, Wolfwood was in the middle of a revelation of his own: he never should’ve gotten involved. Even though it hadn’t been Nai’s fault, how could he feel anything other than responsible? He’d clearly mentally distanced himself from it all, and no wonder-even thinking about the unfairness of it all made Wolfwood want to scream.
All the light, all the life, had dimmed from his expression the longer he’d talked, leaving an unreadable blankness that still lingered, even now. Wolfwood had no idea what Vash was thinking. For his part, Wolfwood had been chain smoking like a chimney, filling his veins with nicotine over and over again like it could cleanse his mind of what he’d just heard. They’d been sitting in perfect silence like that ever since Vash had finally finished his story.
Beside him, Vash was contorted so his legs were folded against his chest, arms draped over his knees. Wolfwood’s legs were sprawled across the chipped asphalt, head tipped toward the sky, smoke curling from his mostly-spent cigarette. Wolfwood and Vash sat side-by-side on the curb of the road.
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