sticksandbones | And if I believe you [OPEN]

Entry tags:

trigun: wolfwood

And if I believe you [OPEN]

Who: Nicholas D. Wolfwood and YOU
What: Wolfwood gets a [nondenominational but it's also definitely Catholic] church
When: Throughout January after the event
Where: The Grove
Warnings: N/A will edit if needed

[A new building has appeared in the South part of the Grove.

It's small. It's exterior seems dilapidated and old despite its newness, and- at least for the first day it's around- every window is shattered and decrepit looking. This is the building that Wolfwood had asked Heimr to build for him, and honestly he was not expecting it to look this bad. It's actually kindof impressive. Like, dude, you have...magic, how could you not have made it look less shitty than this-

But, well. If anybody is wondering what it is, the shape of its steeple and the fact its topped with a little cross would clue anyone in who has familiarity with such iconography that this is, in fact, a Church. A Church that has little by way of entertainment to offer guests, but should you wander inside...

It's just as run down as the outside, though mostly because there's plant life growing everywhere. It's structurally sound otherwise, mostly, and it's clear given how some of the vines have been torn away recently that someone is trying to clean it up. It's...depending on when you find it, either empty, or there's Elsword watching you from the rafters because Wolfwood hasn't figured out how to remove him yet. He may just live here now.

Other than that though, there are books that you can pull from behind the pews to read. Bibles- "Bibles"- that don't seem to conform to any religion so much as it talks about a strange sort of religious order surrounding "Plants", so that probably isn't suspicious at all.

At the head of the sanctuary is a pulpit where a pastor might presumably give a sermon, and off to the side of it is a confessional box. The confessional box has a piece of notebook paper taped to it that reads "5 shells for 15 minutes. Confess all of your sins. -W"

The pulpit itself, if this building's owner wasn't clear enough, has a little plaque on it that reads, as if sarcastically: Saint Nicholas]

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[The alternative. Yeah, he knows what Vash means. It would have meant Wolfwood getting run through by that spear, and then they would have had the same situation, except in the reverse. And...thinking on it, he knows Vash would take a loss like that much harder, and Wolfwood already took it hard to begin with.

Vash will hear him audibly sigh through the wall, stretching his legs out as far as he can in the cramped confines of the confessional, which isn't that far at all.]

......can you hear him now?

[There's a rustling sound, followed by one side of the doors sliding open. His boots don't go far, only moving in front of Wolfwood's side of the confessional. He doesn't open it yet, just... seems to shuffle back and forth.]

If I really strain, I think so.

[Perhaps Wolfwood will catch a glimpse of the way Vash leans against the wall, posing beside the door as he waits for his partner to peek out. There's a shy smile playing over his lips, just barely concealing the hint of doubt lingering on his face.]

Do you think he'd forgive me?

[If I really strain... Wolfwood wants to know what that means, genuinely. Does Vash mean he's still struggling with the aftermath of his death, and what it's done to him, or just...in general? He feels like he needs to ask, just to be sure, but...he's already getting the sense that Vash is getting better. After all, he wasn't capable of conversation like this before. He was like a robot, simply answering what was asked with no emotional thought put into any of it.

Wolfwood crosses his arms tighter, his hands gripping at his forearms. He doesn't move as the door opens, watching as Vash sort of leans into Wolfwood's side without actually getting up to open the door proper.

...

He'll hear the dull thunk of Wolfwood's head hitting his side of the wall as he slides over to lean against it, just barely able to see those flashes of red through the slats that tell him it is Vash, definitively, as if he wouldn't recognize his voice.]

Yeah. [...] ...cause he misses you.

[Unfortunately, Vash has just picked a really bad time for a joke. He's playing off of whatever little act they have going, pretending to not be each other. the truth is that Wolfwood's voice is stronger than ever. He's been a tether for Vash to hold onto, pulling himself back upward even as he's wanted to despair over his condition.

And now they're here. Vash won't pretend he's back at 100%, but it's leagues better than where they were.]

I miss him too.

[He raps his knuckles against the wood, then lays his hand on the door handle. He thumbs against the surface, but doesn't yet pull it open.]

... Will you come out? Or can I come in?

[He's well aware of several pairs of eyes within the chapel. What little privacy they can eke out is for the best.]

Edited 2024-01-22 16:16 (UTC)

[They probably shouldn't be doing this here, for that reason. But at the same time, he didn't ask for an audience. It's their fault if they see something they didn't sign up for.

He shifts back a little where he sits with his shoulders against the back wall, bringing his legs in closer to himself so they're not stretched all the way out to the door.]

...you can come in.

[It's a tight fit, even with Wolfwood's adjusted position, but Vash isn't complaining as he opens the door and slides in. It's shut behind him once more, so they're left in the quiet dark of the tiny confessional. For a moment, Vash only stares, squinting through the dim of the container they were in as if trying to re-map the planes of Wolfwood's face.

Eventually he eases close enough to lean forward and bump their foreheads together.]

I'm sorry, Nick. Sorry I didn't think twice, 'n' sorry I scared you so bad. And not just then, either, but this whole last week.

[It's cramped, yet Wolfwood finds himself wishing Vash could get closer anyway, somehow. And when he rests their foreheads together, he takes a harsh breath through his teeth, closing his eyes tight. He can't stand those baby blues gazing up at him so sad like that, not when he's already thinking about...everything else.]

You...you better be.

[Is what he finally replies with, reaching a hand out to take hold of one edge of his jacket, like a child. He worries the hem with his thumb, tugging on it a little.]

You...really fuckin' scared me. You know?

[He's whispering now, his voice somehow deeper than normal with the way he's speaking barely audible enough to be heard.]

[Luckily for Wolfwood, Vash is thinking the same thing. And with the relative privacy of their current accommodations, there's no reason to resist. He sidles into Wolfwood's lap, arms swiftly draping over his shoulders. Like his lover, those eyes draw closed, and for a quiet moment, he focuses on breathing in the air the other man breathes. There's no more frost that accumulates between them, and any chill that lingers on Vash is a product of the cold outside, rather than in his heart.]

I know. [One hand draws back, cradling his jaw. His thumb scrapes over the stubble there. The other falls down to grab Wolfwood's hand, the one that had tugged him forward. He draws it upward, laying it over his warmed cheek.] But I'm here now, see? And I'm not going anywhere, Nick.

You can't...promise that.

[He murmurs, leaning into the touch of Vash's hand pretty much immediately. Then, when he draws his hand up to press it against his own face, well...Wolfwood knows why Vash did it. It's so he can feel the warmth of his skin seep into his fingertips, proof more than anything that he's not as bad off as he once was.]

I...I know you're gonna keep getting hurt. And getting yourself into trouble over shit. ...but you've gotta trust me to have your back. Next time something comes after you, I'll kill them first.

[No-]

[Almost immediately, Vash's face crumples. Whatever warm affection had begun to brew within him sours abruptly, growing cold within his gut. He leans back as visceral fear churns through him, while his face cycles through far too many emotions to count. Abruptly, he tilts his head up, high enough that only the reflection of his glasses should show. It hides the despair, the anger, the betrayal.

When he speaks his voice is little more than a whisper. And though he hides his face, it does little to keep the tremor of emotion from his voice.]

That isn't what I want, Nick

Then what am I supposed to do!?

[He's not yelling, somehow, but he...definitely isn't able to keep that from being blurted, because he knew Vash would chastise him pretty much immediately long before the words finished leaving his mouth. He still feels that bubbling bitterness in his chest, knowing that Vash would sooner let a soulless suit of armor live than allow it to be "killed".

Even now, after all of this time, Wolfwood struggles to wrap his head around it. At least Vash dying for his sake made sense, in some twisted sense.

With the way Vash leaned away from him, it leaves Wolfwood feeling briefly cold, abandoned. His hand drops from Vash's face, but he doesn't let go of his coat. Stubborn.]

Am I gonna have to keep watching you die? Is that what you're telling me?

[If he could know Wolfwood's thoughts, Vash might have protested. He had been hesitant to fire at first, worried about what might have been piloting the armor. Learning their hollowed insides had motivated him. He hadn't relished it, but fighting them off had been a necessity.

(Fighting them off to the degree that Nai and Wolfwood was something else entirely. He has no way of knowing the violence that had ensued, but needless to say, he wouldn't have approved)

That wouldn't always be the case. There was always the chance to flee, or choose not to wield a weapon. Worse still, there was always a chance their enemy would be human, or at least some semblance of it. There's no way he stomach the idea of blood being shed in his name.]

You know that's not what I'm saying. [He doesn't pull out of Wolfwood's grasp entirely, though it might be slightly jostled as he moves to fuss with his hands. The thought leaves his palm feeling clammy.] There are - other ways you can protect me.

[Wolfwood knows exactly what Vash is saying, of course. It just takes a lot to beat this kind of bull-headed stubbornness out of a man, which is hopefully what Vash signed up for when he decided to date Wolfwood. He is as hard headed as they come, and never once has he stopped butting heads with Vash on this. He doesn't enjoy killing- he wouldn't even say he prefers it over other alternatives- but he won't hesitate if it means protecting those he cares about. Not even for a second.

It makes him wonder, in the back of his mind, what Vash would do if he were given that ultimatum. Shoot to kill, or let someone else he cares about die as a result?

...there's no sense in thinking about that right now, though. They are crammed in this box together and damn it all they're going to have this conversation whether either of them like it or not.

Yet...instead of firing back again, Wolfwood relents. He's read the mood and just how swiftly it went from good to bad, now with Vash leaning away from him like he's afraid to get too close.]

...I. [...] I didn't mean to upset you.

[Wolfwood relents, and so does Vash. The tension that lined his shoulders, that left him stiff backed and ready to flee at a moment's notice, begins to ebb. He leans forward once more, chin settled above his hair. Instead of holding him outright, his hands seek out Wolfwood's, trying to thread their fingers together.]

I know you didn't.

[Being no stranger to loss, he doesn't need to imagine how Wolfwood felt in that moment. Trying to cling to Vash given his return was only to be expected. Surely the independent would have done the same, were the roles reversed.]

You're scared. And I don't do much to make it easier on you. But I'm still here...

[Wolfwood, in response, doesn't shy away. He allows Vash to find his hands with both flesh and metal, threading his fingers with both even if the left (his right) is much firmer, and cooler to the touch, reminding him of things he'd much rather not think about.

If anyone else had the gall to tell him he was scared to his face, he'd kick their ass. Or, at the very least, he'd fire back that he wasn't. He isn't, he never is, such is the image Wolfwood tries to present to people...yet, Vash is right. He is scared. Terrified, actually.

He was back home, and that hasn't changed simply because they're in a new world. Everything feels just that much more unpredictable, not just with the ice castle appearing. Knives appearing. The Forest, lashing out at every turn.

How is he supposed to react? How is he meant to just be able to handle it all?]

Yeah. You are. ...the old man said you might come back, but I didn't...believe it.

[He tightens his grip on Vash's hands, just slightly. Then, he takes a breath, and forces himself to speak to Vash plain.]

...I'll try. Okay? For you. I'll be your armor, without doing shit that will make you disappointed in me.

[It's a strange offer, when he thinks about it. He glances down to his hand, made of metal and armor in its own right. It nearly makes his stomach turn when he thinks about it from this angle, of Wolfwood being a hand for him to extend. It's too much like his brother and his own bids for power.

But that isn't what Wolfwood said. He'd only offered to be protection. Not acting for him, or because of him, but with him. It's a more solid union, mutual instead of controlling. And when he thinks about it this way, it makes his heart thud within his chest in a far more pleasant way.

The air in his lungs rushes out in a faintly flustered puff.]

Stop bein' so romantic. You're in a church, you know. I'm pretty sure it's sacrilegious to woo your parishioners.

[Wolfwood...huffs, then stutters on something vaguely like a laugh as he sags forward against Vash, some more of that tension finally leaving his shoulders.]

Romantic? Is it? [He shifts his fingers a little in Vash's hold, mostly so his grip can become more secure.] Wasn't tryin' to be. Maybe I'm just naturally seductive. Not my fault.

[Likewise, any lingering apprehension that might have formed on Vash's frame also dissipates. Wolfwood's hands are released in favor of properly holding him once more. Fingers press into his hair, while the other massages the space between his shoulder blades.]

And maybe I'm naturally in tune to your wiles. [There's an amused note to his voice, a laugh that plays at the undercurrents of his tone.] Besides, I've missed you! Do you know how awful it was, watching you for a week and not being able to get my body to reach out and really touch you!

[His voice goes whiny toward the end. Who's the sacrilegious one now, Jesus boy?]

[Thank god, honestly. It means Wolfwood can wrap his arms around Vash's waist, pulling him further into their loose embrace in what is quite possibly the smallest place in the Grove they could be doing this, but it's fine. So long as nobody opens that door and causes Vash to go tumbling backwards out of the confessional, anyway.]

Woah now. Watch yourself, we're in a holy place. [He rumbles, yet even as he fucking says this he tilts his head to kiss the side of Vash's neck, just to tease.] This place is for confessing sins, not committing them.

[Really, Vash hadn't meant to reach this point. He'd been trying to tease a little, sure, but now that Wolfwood's lips are on his neck? It's hard to keep his lashes from fluttering, or his body from shuddering. He keeps the man's head tucked against his neck, thumbing at the nape where a few stray hairs happen to kiss at his fingers.]

Who says we can't do both? [It tumbles out before he can stop himself. A laugh follows, even as Vash leans back and away. Not far, just enough to free himself from temptation for the time being.]

I missed you, is all I'm saying.

[Fortunately for Vash, Wolfwood doesn't press on the teasing, at least not while they're stuck in a small confessional with people literally in the sanctuary outside of it. So when Vash pulls back to look at him, it means that Wolfwood can more easily look at his face in the semi-gloom, realizing that this is probably the most alive he's seen Vash in a solid week. His eyes, more than anything, reflect that. Before, they were dull and distant, like they belonged to someone else...but now, it's like he's returned after being in a waking coma.

He nods, a sort of limp bob of his head with how close the two of them still are.]

Missed you too. You weren't even gone for that long...I dunno how you manage to do this to me.

Guess that's what being in love does to someone.

[He might not be teasing, but Vash can still be romantic. Which, for Wolfwood, it might just be the same damn thing, seeing as how Vash trails his hands down the span of his chest, then back over the width of his shoulders. He hadn't forgotten how the man felt beneath his hands, but the reminder was appreciated nonetheless.]

I know I can't say I felt the same, considering everything. But also... part of me did. Don't even think I got to enjoy just being in the same bed with you.

[Being in love. ...yeah. Wolfwood still isn't sure he's used to that, yet.

He closes his eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of the touch of Vash's hands. Previously during the week, he was lucky if Vash even looked at him directly, much less did anything like this. It was all so...clinical. Like he'd been reset, somehow.

He's going to have to ask...someone about it. If this is just something that happens here, when you die.]

M'surprised you even wanted to be in bed with me, after what I did.

[That part is said a little quieter, rougher. Does Vash even remember the way the steel of his own gun pressed into his stomach?]

[There are parts of Vash's memories that are more disconnected than others. The immediate aftermath of waking up was especially fuzzy. He knows that something happened, felt the sharp bruising sensation of something against his gut, but he couldn't say what.

And it wasn't like there were scars to tell the tale.

Or maybe, just maybe, he's forced himself to forget. It's not the kind of conversation they would relish having. It would, perchance, be easier if it was shoved into the recesses of Vash's memory and entirely forgotten.]

There's nothing you could do to keep me from you.

[This is something he knows he means. It will be true, no matter what.]

[Honestly, it's probably a thing best kept in the dark. The less Vash remembers about it, the better for not just him, but Wolfwood too. He's used to keeping secrets, especially about his own dirty laundry, but this? This is...it's been eating at him. Maybe he'd brought it up now just to probe a little, to see if Vash remembered anything at all.

It's hard to say for sure, but it doesn't seem like he does. Or, if he does, he's making it a point to avoid getting into it further than the affirmation that he doesn't think Wolfwood did anything wrong. At least...nothing wrong enough to warrant Vash not wanting to be with him anymore.

Wolfwood exhales on a frustrated sound, but it's more at himself than Vash.]

That's dangerous thinking, needle-noggin.

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