So close but you'll never reach meDisclaimer: I own nothing
A/N: this is unbeta-ed. Feedback highly appreciated!
He was dreaming. Knives, kids, violence. With someone's cold, cruel laughter ringing in his ears, he woke, alert and haunted, the vulnerability he was feeling making him sick. The only thing stopping him from jumping out of the bed in terror was -
He was dreaming. Floating in endless light, whispers and memories around him. He knew this. Everything was truth and kindness here – as always, he wished he could stay and knew he couldn't allow himself that, not yet. There were many things he had yet to do. But once again he was reassured – he'd do all this without having to kill. He would make him understand.
Someone... someone was with him. Someone who, for some reason, wanted to stay by his side. Someone he would protect. He was so close by. Sometimes -
Vash woke, not with a start but gently. He opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the pale light of the early morning making the battered hotel room with the one bed appear alien and illusive.
The next thing was Wolfwood, lying beside him and facing him.
Woldwood stared into Vash's eyes and Vash stared back and for a moment he saw something there, a flash of knowledge, of pain, and then Wolfwood simultaneously grabbed for his shades and kicked Vash so hard, he landed in a yelp on the floor, sheets and everything tangled around him.
"Damn you Tongari. Kept me awake half the night with your fucking snoring!"
He made a dash for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Vash stared after him, blinking in confusion for a few heartbeats. Then, he heard the sound of the shower going and proceeded to pick himself and everything else up from the floor and back into bed. He didn't think about Wolfwood's weird behavior or the fear he'd thought for moment he'd seen in his eyes. He didn't think about how it didn't make any sense, that Wolfwood would've kicked him way earlier would he truly have kept the other man awake. No, no. It was just one of these weird Wolfwood-moods that never seemed to make much sense. It would pass.
He lay back on the bed and soon dozed off.
In the shower, Wolfwood had kept his sunglasses on. He pretended that the cool trickle of tears was just water running down dry cheeks.