The first thing Vash feels when he wakes up is his head pounding.
He's met with darkness when he opens his eyes. He also finds ropes around his arms and legs when he tries to move. The movement causes the bullet wound in his abdomen to sting, reminding him about how he got into this predicament—a group of bounty hunters captured him, and judging by the rumbling sound and the ground shaking, they left him in the back of their truck, heading who knows where. There's a sting to the side of his neck, but it's the least of his worries right now.
He doesn't know how much time has passed since he and Wolfwood split up to stock up on supplies when the bounty hunters jumped him. A few hours, maybe. He was supposed to restock on bullets and suppressants. Not wanting to attract attention, he stayed near alleyways, and he wasn't alone.
It happened when a wave of heat made him lean against the wall until it passed, reminding him to take a suppressant soon. It distracted him enough that he didn't hear the cocking of a gun. Turning around, the first bullet hits his side, making him gasp. It hits his underarmour through the coat, leaving a bruise. He blocks the next two with his prosthetic, but a third hits his stomach. Preheat makes him too slow.
The bounty hunters changed tactics and decided to overwhelm him with brute force. He was able to fight off one of them when three more men appeared, making him pull out his gun and fire a shot at one of the men's legs. One managed to punch the wound on his stomach, making him double over and drop his gun. Before he could catch his breath, a burly hunter grabbed his throat and smashed the back of his head against the wall, knocking him out.
The only trace Wolfwood has is his gun left on the ground.
Vash shuts his eyes to get some rest despite the situation he's in. He'll wait until he's healed enough to try escaping.
The next time he wakes up is to the sound of yelling and sunlight hitting his face. His concussion and the bright light make his vision swim. The group of men yell amongst themselves before one of them notices he hasn't moved.
"Get up."
Vash tries to sit up, but his headache worsens and his limbs won't move properly. That's when he realizes the sting on his neck is evidence that he's been drugged.
The man decides he's taking too long and drags him out of the truck by the arm until he's lifted like a sack of potatoes over the guy's shoulder. The movement causes a wave of nausea to hit him, and he breathes heavily through his nose to will it away. He keeps his eyes open as he's carried into an abandoned building, hoping to memorize the layout when he plans to escape. The place is barely furnished with paint on the walls cracked everywhere.
The man carries him down the stairs to the basement, dropping him inside a cold room with a single light bulb on the ceiling. He barely makes a sound when another dose of sedation is jabbed into his neck before he's left alone in the cold room.
Vash manages to crawl to the corner of the room and curl up against the wall before unconsciousness takes him. He just has to hold out for a while and wait for an opportunity to escape strikes before Wolfwood hunts him down.
Time passes. Vash can't keep track while in and out of awareness. The men barely feed him, not caring whether he's dead or alive to claim their bounty. At some point, Vash overhears one of them complaining that someone had followed them. He hopes it's Wolfwood.
Vash knows it's been a few days judging by the symptoms of his heat worsening. His skin burns, his body aches, and he can't hide his strong scent without suppressants. The first sign of fear starts creeping him since he's been captured. They don't know the Humanoid Typhoon is an omega. Not that he can blame anyone for thinking anything else but that.
He wakes up from the sound of the door kicked open. The next second, he's lifted roughly by the collar to stand.
"Who would've thought the Typhoon would be a bitch in heat stinking up the whole place," the man sneers into his face.
Vash bares his teeth as he attempts to pry the hands off him. The man doesn't like that as he scoffs and pushes him to the floor. Vash barely catches himself from face-planting. The movement leaves his head spinning. He doesn't get a chance to recover as the man pulls his head back by the hair.
"We're gonna have a little fun with you."
"Fuck off," Vash hisses. He's past the point of pleasantries.
The man snickers before he lets go of his hair to grab his collar again and drag him out of the room. Vash doesn't make it easy to be pushed around, jerking out of the man's grasp and managing to get his feet on the floor. He doesn't get far when the man jabs him across the side of his head before he can get away. Vash ends up on the floor again with a blazing headache, hardly struggling when the man carries him up the stairs over his shoulder.
Vash is soon dropped to the floor. There's no time to move when his arms are pinned and a heavyweight sits on his knees. He bucks to get the weight off and free his arms, but he's weak, too weak.
"Quit squirming."
Vash opens his eyes to find figures surrounding him.
"Can I get a turn?" someone whispers.
Vash grits his teeth and attempts to break free, leaning over to bite the hand on his wrist, refusing to submit. He doesn't get far when a hand lands on his throat and squeezes, causing him to choke.
"Just take it like a good little omega," the man above him chides.
A rough hand touches his sternum followed by the sound of buttons popping fills Vash with a sense of urgency as the man opens his coat. He struggles to fight back, only to cough out the little air he has left in his lungs when the hand around his neck tightens. With the coat out of the way, a rough hand lands on his thigh. Vash seizes when the hand slides between his legs and presses firmly against his groin, gripping his cunt through his pants.
The man says something, but Vash doesn't hear it when a distant memory flashes in front of his eyes. A memory from decades prior of a different man with a similar hand between his legs.
The hand moves to claw his pants down, but it stops when a burst of white stops the man as tendrils burst from Vash's skin, knocking the men away from him, and freeing his arms and legs. Vash manages to stand on shaky legs and pushes the bystanders away to head for the door, using their shock to bolt out of the building, running on instinct to get away. The effects of the drug make him trip and fall hard to the ground. He gets right back up and keeps running, ignoring the yelling behind him, not caring about where he's going as long as it's somewhere safe. There's a separate shout in the distance that he ignores too.
He's not watching where he's going when he crashes into someone—alpha. Pushing away from them sends Vash tumbling backwards onto the sand. He threatens the alpha by pointing his wings at them.
"Spikey, it's me."
Vash peeks through his wings and finds Wolfwood sporting a shocked expression.
Safe. He's too stunned and exhausted to be relieved, but he's safe.
A worried expression crosses Wolfwood's face. "Are you—"
Gunshots pelt the sand near them.
"Shit," Wolfwood curses, turning to block the gunfire with the Punisher. A pause in gunfire allows Wolfwood to shift the Punisher into gear and return fire tenfold, causing the bounty hunters in the distance to yelp when bullets hit their legs. With them taken care of, Wolfwood turns back to Vash who hasn't moved.
Vash has seen better days. His stare is empty, and his eyes are bloodshot. With his coat unbuttoned, there's a hand-shaped bruise on his neck. Wolfwood can smell his heat pheromones, but it's obscured behind his stress. The feathers and wings add to Vash's bad shape.
Wolfwood bites back the growl forming in his throat. He wants to hurt those men real bad, but he has more important things to do. Removing his jacket, he drapes it over Vash's shoulders, a poor attempt to cover the wings, and kneels with an outstretched hand. "Let's get you out of here."
Vash continues staring at him, making no reaction when the jacket settles around him, or from seeing the man in front of him. Glancing down at Wolfwood's hand, he moves, leaning closer to wrap his arms around his shoulders and burying his face into his neck. Wolfwood slides his arm under Vash and hauls him up to his chest before standing, getting a good grip on the Punisher, and getting the fuck out of this part of town. He was lucky to search this abandoned area while tracking Vash down. Not so lucky that didn't Vash come out unscathed.
Wolfwood hurries past alleyways until he reaches a clearing with townsfolk roaming around. Vash's scent catches attention as some folks give him looks as he runs to the hotel he's staying in. The smell of distress rolling off of Vash fills Wolfwood's nose and makes him move faster. His scent isn't improving, and his hot breaths are strained against his neck.
Finding the hotel, the receptionist sitting behind the counter pays little attention to him as he races to his room. The Punisher makes a loud thump as he drops it to the floor and lays Vash on the bed. Vash's eyes are closed, and his face is pinched as if he's in pain. While the wings are gone, feathers still linger across his skin. Wolfwood brushes the hair away from his face, feeling his hot forehead. The room quickly smells bitter from Vash's scent.
"Spikey?"
Vash mumbles in pain and turns his head away.
Something on Vash's neck grabs his attention. Pulling the collar of Vash's coat down, Wolfwood notices pin-sized marks—needle marks. Wolfwood hisses out a curse, discovering that Vash is drugged.
Wolfwood quickly removes Vash's coat, slipping his arms out of the sleeves and sliding it out from under him. When Wolfwood goes to remove his top by pulling the hem, Vash comes awake with a gasp, grabbing Wolfwood's wrist with his prosthetic. Wolfwood freezes, glancing at Vash and finds him staring at the ceiling.
Vash's grip is tight, almost bruising, so Wolfwood lets go and the grip on his wrist slacks. Wolfwood reaches to gently cup Vash's face. Vash flinches away from his touch, gazing off to the side.
"Vash, it's me." Wolfwood's concern rises as Vash continues being unresponsive to his touch and voice. "You're safe." He watches Vash with bated breath for any sign of recognition.
Vash's laboured breathing fills the silence before he lets out a dry cough. And another. Vash clamps a hand over his mouth. He struggles to sit up as he continues coughing. Wolfwood helps him, noticing how Vash twitches from the touch.
"Bathroom," Vash wheezes, before swallowing with force.
Wolfwood's eyes widen, quickly gathering Vash in his arms and hurrying to the bathroom to sit him down beside the toilet. Vash grips the toilet bowl and heaves hard until bile comes out. Sweat collects on Vash's forehead so Wolfwood reaches over to push his bangs back, causing the man to flinch and let out a low whimper. The reaction hurts Wolfwood, feeling useless as he watches Vash spit out saliva.
Wolfwood looks over at the sink to find a cup and makes himself useful by filling it up with water, letting the faucet run for a couple of seconds until it's cold and clear. He holds the cup next to Vash who takes it with a shaky hand. Vash uses the water to rinse his mouth before taking small sips.
A small victory.
Wolfwood waits until Vash's shudders subside to small shivers. He glances at the remaining clothes on Vash's body, marred with dirt and clinching to skin. They need a good wash.
Wolfwood rests a hand on Vash's clothes back. "I'll get some change of clothes. You wait here."
Vash gives him a small nod, so Wolfwood exits the bathroom to grab a pair of fresh clothes, leaving the door partly closed for privacy. Entering the room, he remembers he left their belongings outside with his motorcycle when he went searching for Vash. He tsks and hurries to get them. It only takes a minute until he's back in the room.
With clean clothes in hand, Wolfwood hears the faucet run. The water cuts off a few seconds later and then silence.
"Vash?"
No answer.
Wolfwood hurries to the bathroom but stops in his tracks when the door opens to reveal a topless Vash. His pale skin shines with cold sweat as he holds himself against the wall, panting with exhaustion. Wolfwood gets a full view of the bruising on Vash's neck and littered across his body, along with patches of feathers.
One moment Vash is standing and the next he's dropping to his knees at the doorway.
Wolfwood is by his side in a second, discarding the clothes to hold Vash's head in his palms. Vash makes a pained expression, not liking the contact. Wolfwood attempts to meet his gaze, but Vash's blue eyes are hooded, and empty, as if they have no energy before they close shut. He picks Vash up in his arms and gently lays him on the bed.
Vash writhes as if he has a fever, but Wolfwood doesn't smell one. Moving closer to sniff at Vash's neck, he can barely smell a scent, like he's using blockers. Vash hadn't taken any since days before getting captured. Even while using blockers, Wolfwood can always catch a whiff of Vash's familiar scent, one that smells of aloe with a hint of desert roses.
Vash doesn't smell like anything of his scent, only fear.
"Spikey—Vash." Wolfwood holds Vash's cheek. He only receives Vash's shallow breathing while the man lolls his head away from him, lying in a fetal position. Wolfwood lies on the bed beside him, staring and waiting for Vash to relax. He waits ten minutes for Vash's condition to improve, but the man slumps and falls unconscious with discomfort etched across his face. Vash doesn't move when Wolfwood brushes his cheek with the back of his hand.
It's not the first time Vash is knocked unconscious. You see it plenty of times while travelling with the guy, from blood loss to exhaustion. What keeps Wolfwood from freaking out too much is Vash is safe and sound.
Though, the alpha in him is freaking out at being unable to smell the omega's scent. Wolfwood presses his nose to Vash's neck. Nothing.
Vash's condition jogs his memory of when he and Vash busted a trafficking ring and saved a group of omegas who were wasting away in the back of a truck. The gang's "cargo". One of the omegas was lying unconscious, needing serious medical attention. It put Wolfwood on edge that they had no scent. Before he could do anything, Vash seemingly knew what was wrong and rushed to drape his coat over them, lift them into his arm, and search for a doctor. He refused to hand them over to the marshals.
Later at a bar, Wolfwood asked him what was that all about, commenting about the omega having no scent. Vash gave him a sad smile over the rim of his glass and said, "They've been under a lot of stress."
Vash is going through the same thing as the other omega. It gets Wolfwood to pull away from Vash's neck and get his ass into gear, letting his instincts take charge.
Another memory flashes in his mind when he grabs Vash's clothes that he discarded moments ago. An old memory from the orphanage. A child who was recently orphaned—an omega—collapsed one day. His younger self rushed to their side, only to freeze quickly after. He thought they died when he couldn't smell their scent.
Melanie reassured him they were only scared as she took the omega into her arms. She showed him how to help them that day, teaching him about building a nest and pheromones.
Wolfwood carefully removes Vash's pants, receiving a whine and a kick. He cards his fingers into Vash's hair to calm him down enough to get the job done. Seeing the scratches and sweat on Vash, Wolfwood wets a towel to clean his skin. The marks on Vash's neck make him grimace as he gently passes the cloth over them. Glancing at his stomach, Wolfwood finds a bullet wound just starting to heal. He cleans the wound and dresses it with gauze.
With Vash dressed in a loose shirt and pants, Wolfwood looks for things to make a nest with by grabbing more garments from Vash's bag and a couple of his own and arranging them across the bed, feeling out of his depth. He's never seen Vash make a nest for himself, always choosing to use suppressants until his body forces him to suffer through a heat. Vash always hid away in a separate room and came back like it was nothing.
Wolfwood tucks his clothes next to Vash, hoping it'll bring some comfort. Seeing Vash's pained expression dissipate slightly tells him that something is working.
There isn't much else he can do except wait for Vash to wake up. Wolfwood cleans himself up in the bathroom in the meantime. Tracking down Vash left him exhausted and filthy. And hungry. After washing up and changing into presentable clothes, he heads to a small nearby shop, refilling on water and grabbing two sandwiches. He devours one of them before returning to the hotel. The extra sandwich meant for Vash is left in the small fridge in the corner.
Wolfwood lays in bed with a sigh. He turns to face Vash, gazing at him until his eyes fall shut.
Vash is still not awake the next morning. His body is looser than it was yesterday as if he's in a deep sleep, but his face doesn't give away any emotion, and the lack of a scent is unsettling.
It's strange being around a silent Vash. His chatter fills the silence. If he's not chatting, he's humming some tune. When he's silent, Wolfwood attempts to make him not silent. When he cards his fingers through Vash's hair, he smiles. When he scents Vash, he reciprocates. When he talks to Vash, he answers.
None of these gets Vash to wake up.
Wolfwood spends the rest of the day smoking by the open window, looking down on folks going about their day. At one point, he grabs a piece of forgotten newspaper left on the desk, but it's all boring and month-old news. He remembers he's hungry when his stomach growls loud enough, eating Vash's sandwich left in the fridge—can't have food going to waste—before buying a new one to replace it.
Nighttime comes without a peep from Vash. Wolfwood has nothing better to do besides smoking through a pack of cigarettes, so he decides to call an early night, slipping into bed and shutting his eyes until sleep takes him an hour later.
The sound of whimpering wakes Wolfwood up a few hours later. He bolts up when he recognizes it's Vash breathing in short gasps. Turning on the light, he finds Vash's skin peppered with feathers, with some wings breaking through. His face is stained with tears.
"Vash!" Wolfwood touches Vash's cheek, but the main recoils and smacks him with wings. One manages to cut his arm, but Wolfwood ignores it and draws Vash closer. He wraps his arms around Vash and pulls him against his chest. Vash fusses, pushing him away with arms and wings. Wolfwood holds him tighter.
"It's okay." Wolfwood tries to soothe Vash by rubbing his back and tangling his fingers into his hair. "Breathe."
Vash digs his fingers into his chest and whines. He struggles some more until he exhausts his energy and collapses in his arms. Wolfwood comforts Vash until the tremors subside, and relaxes when he's back in a deep sleep. He follows minutes later.
Some hours after, Wolfwood wakes up to the sound of—purring?
He opens his eyes when he feels a nose brush against his neck and finds Vash's mob of hair in front of him. Leaning back, Vash's sleeping face comes into view—nothing new there—but what's different is the purring and his skin gaining some colour. The feathers are gone too. Tension leaves Wolfwood's body as he inhales Vash's familiar scent. It's back.
Wolfwood brushes the hair away from Vash's face. It causes Vash's eyes to flutter open. His eyes show exhaustion, but there's life in them.
"Wolfwood?"
Wolfwood squeezes Vash's nape with a hand, making him purr louder. "I'm here," he murmurs.
Vash leans back against his hand with a shaky sigh, accepting the touch. He looks around the room to get a sense of his surroundings, before his eyes land on the bed, the nest. Then, he looks at Wolfwood with sadness. "I don't remember everything." There's some moisture in his eyes. "But I must've worried you after going through the trouble of finding me." His eyes dart to the scratches on Wolfwood's arm and his face falls. "Sorry—"
Wolfwood pulls Vash to his chest. "Don't worry about that."
Vash releases a deep breath and buries his face into his skin, holding him tight. The silence is soon broken when Vash's stomach rumbles.
Wolfwood pulls away and sits up. "Got you something to eat." He retrieves the sandwich from the fridge and holds it out for Vash.
Vash looks up from staring at the makeshift nest. He takes the sandwich and indulges in it with small bites. It's obvious to Wolfwood that Vash is wary, his scent—thankfully—gives it away. He gets an idea.
"Up for a bath? Some warm water might do you some good."
Vash gives him a small smile. "That does sound nice, yeah."
Wolfwood heads to the bathroom to turn on the facet, testing the temperature until it's warm enough to plug the drain. He looks over his shoulder when he hears Vash walk in, watching him stare at his reflection in the mirror. Vash touches the needle marks on his skin with a blank expression. Wolfwood bites back the anger, thinking about what Vash went through just days prior. Wolfwood looks away and turns off the facet before pouring soap into the water.
"It's ready for you," he says, startling Vash out of his thoughts.
"Thanks," Vash mumbles. He reaches for his prosthetic, but Wolfwood stops him.
"Let me help."
Vash doesn't protest when he undoes the latches of the arm, letting out a relieved sigh when it twists off, disconnecting the nerves. He lets out another thanks, and Wolfwood leaves the bathroom to give him some privacy.
With Vash soaking in the bath, Wolfwood places the prosthetic arm on the side table and makes a place for himself by the window to take a smoke break. After sticking the lit cigarette between his lips, his eyes land on the nest he made for Vash and cringes. It could be better. It's gotten messy from their movements. Vash deserves a better nest than this.
Wolfwood finds more clothes from their bags and tosses them on the bed. He spends an embarrassing amount of time arranging them neatly until he decides he'd leave it for Vash to figure out now that he's awake. He doesn't have any right to mess with Vash's nest. Wolfwood snuffs his cigarette and knocks on the bathroom door before peeking inside.
Vash sits in the tub with eyes closed and the water reaching up to his chin. His relaxed expression is a good sign. Another good sign is his scent is stronger with the smell of desert roses filling the room. Vash opens his eyes when he hears him enter.
"Feeling better?" Wolfwood asks.
Vash hums, giving him a sleepy look. "Do you mind helping me wash my hair?"
Wolfwood rolls up his sleeves, sits on the edge of the tub, and pours shampoo into his hands. He digs into Vash's hair and massages the soap around his scalp. Vash sighs in contentment when he rubs behind his ears and nape with skilled fingers. His scent changes slightly, something sweeter that Wolfwood recognizes as his heat returning.
With Vash's hair full of foam, Wolfwood rinses it out with the help of the shower head and unclogs the drain once he's done. He plucks a towel off the rack and holds it up for Vash as he steps out of the tub. He grabs another towel and dries Vash's hair.
Wolfwood pats him once he's done drying his hair. "Get dressed. I'll be waiting in the room."
Vash makes a noise of acknowledgement before he leaves. Wolfwood sits on the bed after grabbing a cigarette to chew on, contemplating Vash's heat. Usually, they get two rooms when either one needs to be alone with their instinctual urges. He'll have to ask the receptionist if there's a spare room. They need to stock up on food and water if they're hunkering down for a few days.
The sound of the bathroom door opening has him glancing up to see Vash dressed back into loose clothes, looking much better with his hair fluffed from the towel-drying and his skin tinted with pink. Vash eyes the extra clothes on the bed.
Wolfwood coughs to hide his embarrassment and stands. "You can fix it."
Vash approaches the bed as Wolfwood gives him space. He stares at it before climbing on it to move one of Wolfwood's shirts.
With Vash busy adjusting the nest, Wolfwood puts on his jacket and heads towards the door. "I'm gonna see if there's an extra room."
"Why?"
Vash's question has Wolfwood pausing. He turns to see Vash's red face.
"You can stay," Vash says while picking at one of the blankets.
Wolfwood stares. Both are well aware of the implications of staying during Vash heat.
"I trust you," Vash murmurs.
Wolfwood lets out the breath he was holding. "You're giving too much credit to someone like me." He opens the door. "Then I'll grab some food and water."
Vash smiles. "Okay."
Before getting the supplies, Wolfwood takes a smoke to calm his nerves. Vash asking him to take care of him during his heat will do that to him. When he returns later, Vash is dozing away in the middle of the bed. He perks up at the sound of Wolfwood putting the supplies on the table. The room is filled with his sweet scent.
Wolfwood sits by the edge of the bed with juice. He checks Vash's temperature by resting a hand on his forehead. It's slightly hot. Vash pushes against his hand for more, so Wolfwood indulges him by carding his fingers through his hair. Wolfwood soon pulls away and gets a noise of complaint from Vash. "Drink this."
Vash grumbles but complies, sitting up and peeling his eyes open. Wolfwood opens the cap and passes the bottle. Vash drinks half of it before handing it back. Leaving the bottle on the side table, Wolfwood turns and sees Vash reaching an arm towards him. Wolfwood chuckles and climbs into the nest. Vash easily latches to his side, hot breath fanning his neck. His scent is strong this close.
Wolfwood slides a hand to Vash's waist and pets his side. "Doin' alright?"
"Hmmh." Vash shuffles closer, seeking refuge by burying his face into his neck. Once he settles, he starts to purr. "Thank you."
Wolfwood leans into Vash's hair and inhales his familiar scent. He's got his hands full in the coming days, ensuring Vash is as comfortable as possible during his heat, melting away the violence etched on his skin.
When Vash is lucid days later, the marks and bruises are gone as he showers Wolfwood with kisses.