[Somehow, Wolfwood manages to put together what Vash has been saying all along. He doesn't want to see the Punisher die, period. And if he can't have that (knows he can't, because of how precious and fragile human life is) then the least he could ask for is for him to not die because of Vash.
His head hangs low, drooped in penance, like he's awaiting eecution. He doesn't expect salvation in the form of those words. Needle-noggin was probably meant to be an insult at one point, but along the way he's collected that nickname and held it close. Right now, it feels like a balm for his wounded heart, gives him hope that it isn't all gone. And for some reason, that faint flicker of optimism is what gets him to break.
It isn't helped by the hand in his hair. If Wolfwood was going to leave, he wouldn't do this, right?]
I'd do anything for you, Nick. [His voice is thick, words becoming more slurred by the second. Somehow, he breaks through it with a laugh — sardonic though it is.] 'cept actually listen to you. Give you a choice. Anything like that.
[He's an idiot, and he knows it. But he's an idiot that's trying. He's stumbling, like he's deep in a snowbank and trying to push his way through. But he's still trying all the same.]
s'not like I don't have anything to say. I just don't know how to say it. [A sniffle, now.] I just don't know how to say it and make it seem like I'm not putting myself first. I could say I'm scared but — ain't that sayin' you're not?
[He shakes his head once, twice, three times.]
You deserve me trying though. And - that's what I want to do. To try.
cw: suicidal ideation implication, just in case (just all the way down)
His head hangs low, drooped in penance, like he's awaiting eecution. He doesn't expect salvation in the form of those words. Needle-noggin was probably meant to be an insult at one point, but along the way he's collected that nickname and held it close. Right now, it feels like a balm for his wounded heart, gives him hope that it isn't all gone. And for some reason, that faint flicker of optimism is what gets him to break.
It isn't helped by the hand in his hair. If Wolfwood was going to leave, he wouldn't do this, right?]
I'd do anything for you, Nick. [His voice is thick, words becoming more slurred by the second. Somehow, he breaks through it with a laugh — sardonic though it is.] 'cept actually listen to you. Give you a choice. Anything like that.
[He's an idiot, and he knows it. But he's an idiot that's trying. He's stumbling, like he's deep in a snowbank and trying to push his way through. But he's still trying all the same.]
s'not like I don't have anything to say. I just don't know how to say it. [A sniffle, now.] I just don't know how to say it and make it seem like I'm not putting myself first. I could say I'm scared but — ain't that sayin' you're not?
[He shakes his head once, twice, three times.]
You deserve me trying though. And - that's what I want to do. To try.