Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vash clutches his legs closer to his chest, his eyes staring unseeingly at the wall. Not that he needs to see to know what it looks like. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget these four walls. In the beginning, the familiar white walls of the SEEDS ship had provided a perverse sense of comfort. He could pretend that nothing had changed. Pretend that any minute now he could walk out that door, that he could feel Rem’s arms around him, that he could believe everything was going to be alright.

But now those same walls just make him feel hollow. He doesn’t deserve even a twisted form of comfort anyways. A person who let the Fall happen doesn’t deserve it. There’s very little he truly deserves, but he owes it to others who deserve far more than he can give to keep on going. Rem gave up everything to save him and what she could of the rest of the fleet, so he needs to do everything he can to protect her last gift.

And yet, how can he? He’s useless as a Plant and he’s useless as a person. He can’t produce anything, he uses up precious resources, he couldn’t stop the Fall, he couldn’t save Rem, and he couldn’t even get through to his own bro— 

Shaking his head violently, Vash cuts off his train of thought. He has to keep going, to keep looking forward, there’s no other choice. Forcefully putting aside his doubts yet again (far from the first and most definitely not for the last time), Vash steels his resolve. He grabs his spoon and turns the jagged edge against the wall. Today starts a new section of tally marks. His 73rd, making this his 361st day in this cell. Another couple weeks and he’ll have officially spent half his life in this cell.

Depending how he counts it, he probably already has. The SEEDS ships used to set the night/day cycle according to Earth standards, but a week into his captivity, the lighting system was shut off. From the bits and pieces he heard through the door, the survivors are preserving as much power as they can, so they switched to relying on the planet’s natural light. Vash once spent a day counting, and this planet’s cycle is 1.4 hours longer than Earth time he was used to.

New tally mark made, he settles back on the floor. He has to keep thinking about what he can do to help. He can’t just continue acting like an immature baby, letting others handle all the difficult questions. He hasn’t had any success yet, but he has no one to blame but himself, and if he gives up after a little bit of failure, he’ll be far worse than just a failure.

Biting his lip, Vash considers the issue once again. His uselessness as a Plant is a constant hindrance, but surely even he can help with manual labour. And Rem used to call them her amazingly clever boys; maybe he could help with the ship’s systems? Afterall, helping the systems to run has to be easier than hacking into them, and Na—

No, that comparison is pointless, he’s not the same. Besides, the longer he stays in this cell, the more he starts to wonder if Rem was just being nice. Maybe all humans are much better at handling the ship than he could ever be and Rem just wanted him to feel included. She was always so good at that. 

He loves that about her, but now it leaves him unsure what he can tell the other humans. If her compliments were just kindness, then he can’t tell them he could help if he’d really just be getting in the way. Rem would probably let him help regardless, but Rem seems to be an exception among humanity—so full of kindness she could even gift it to those of a different species. But now that she’s gone, he can’t fairly expect anyone else to help him for no reason other than to be kind.

For now though, it doesn’t really matter if he is capable of helping with the systems or not. The crux of the problem remains the same: he can’t find a way to help if he isn’t given a chance to try, and there’s no way he’ll be given a chance to try unless he can convince the humans that he has a way to help.

Luida is his best chance to convince someone, but she only ever has time to see him every few weeks, and never stays long. He’s tried talking to the humans he can hear walking by his cell, but the only response he ever gets is the sound of footsteps speeding up as they try to get away from him. 

Vash eventually stopped trying to reach out that way, because if he’s quiet, he has a chance at overhearing their conversations. Now when they walk by, Vash silently presses his ear to the door, greedily absorbing any bit of evidence that he’s not alone on this ship. Some rare times it's like they just forgot he’s even there, and they speak freely. Most other times, he’s pretty sure that his hearing as a Plant must be better than that of humans, and the humans just don’t realize it. In those cases, he hears them approaching, then they shush themselves right in front of his cell, and restart their conversation long before they leave his range of hearing.

It makes him feel dirty, prying where he isn’t invited. But he can never resist, desperate for any information that might help, and even the tiniest feeling of connection. He used to be so excited at the idea of interacting with all the defrosted humans, seeing what humanity is really like, not just limited to Rem’s stories and movies they’d watch on the holoscreen. But now the humans are there and he is still just as far away as before, kept alone in his cell. Even the small crumbs of overheard conversations he hoards in his mind are evidence of this unbridgeable gap, as the only reason he gets even that much is that the crew underestimates how alien he truly is, and so fail to block him out entirely.

Breathing hard through his nose, Vash presses his palms over his eyes. He needs to focus! No wonder his progress has been so slow, he keeps wasting time feeling sorry for himself. Last time he talked to Luida, he got her to admit that while she might be willing to give him a chance, she can’t afford to override the feelings of the crew when everything is so tense. So, he needs to continue thinking of every possible way the ship’s resources might be used to restrain him, so that the crew can feel safe, without preventing him from being useful. Maybe an unused rope could tie his legs together so he could only walk slowly? Or maybe he could help with something more stationary like cooking if he was tied in a chair…

Vash jerks upright, his senses screaming. Something is wrong.

He scrambles up from where he had been sitting on the floor, head whipping around as he tries to figure out what changed. He can’t see or hear anything, but his head continues to pound with the rhythm of wrong wrong wrong .

Then the screaming sense of wrongs shifts. An almost forgotten instinct deep inside Vash reaches out to the screaming, and in response the indiscriminately radiating pain calls out directly to him.

Vash doesn’t think, he just starts banging on the door as loudly as he can. His voice, hoarse from disuse, rips out of his throat, “Let me out! I need to help her, let me out!”

He hits the door over and over, heedless of the throbbing in his fists. His sister is sick, she’s dying! Can’t the humans hear her screaming? She needs him. She’s calling for him!

After a painful eternity passes, Vash becoming progressively more frantic with each second that passes, footsteps echo down the hall. A voice barks, “You’re telling me you can’t deal with a little racket? I don’t have time for this shit, just get it to behave itself!”

Another voice stammers back, “It’s normally very quiet, this is the first time it ever went berserk like this. We didn’t know what to do!”

Desperate hope blooming in his chest, Vash once again calls out, “Please! Let me out! She needs me!”

In the proceeding pause, Vash holds his breath, leaning against his cell door, straining to hear any sort of response. Footsteps begin to approach and Vash holds his breath, heart in his throat.

Bam!

Vash falls backward, landing painfully on his butt. The human had slammed their fist into the cell door, the sound of it louder than Vash’s hardest hits.

“Be quiet!” snaps the harsher voice. “I have no idea who this ‘she’ is and I don’t care. We have bigger problems than you. You’re lucky our leader is a bleeding heart willing to waste precious resources keeping you fed, but I’m not about to let you waste any more of our time. Now calm down and shut up. You better not let me hear about you kicking up a fuss again.”

The footsteps begin to recede once again. Vash is stunned, left shaking on the floor. Shocked fear engulfs him, thoughts of what he should do sluggish under the coating of dread.

His core pulses, a distress that isn’t his own ringing through him, louder than before. Breaking his stupor, Vash throws himself back at the door. “No, no, please! You have to help! Just listen, she’s hurt! Why won’t you listen?!”

The fading footsteps don’t falter, as Vash continues to scream and claw at the door as if he could wrench it open by force. He calls for somebody, anybody. But the cries for help echoing around him are pointless, and even as his sister thrums increasingly with pain and fear, nobody comes. Slowly, inevitably, painfully, the intensity drops, the calls weaken. Finally, with a sickening snap , it’s silent. She’s gone.

Vash collapses to the floor and screams .

The taste of salt is the first thing to pierce the fog. Next is a throbbing in his head, one that is quickly matched by the throbbing in his knuckles. Finally, Vash cracks open his tear swollen eyes and takes in his cell. The same white walls stare back at him. Nothing has changed. 

It’s as if this is just another day in his cell, the light indicating it is barely past noon. A meaningless day, not even halfway over. Hysterical laughter threatens to overtake him, before he’s forced to stop, his still raw throat causing a coughing fit.

Taking slow deep breaths, Vash slumps. A wave of exhaustion slams into him. He can’t face the rest of today, not after everything. He wants to curl under his bench and never come out again.

Sluggishly moving his tired body to the bench, Vash’s eye catches on his spoon, left on the ground underneath the newest tally patch. From there his gaze moves up, to where the lone line sits. Right. He can’t give up. It’s never been an option before. And now? It’s even less viable. Another life he tried-–and failed-–to help is now resting on his shoulders. Its weight reminds him that he has to do better, that it is the responsibility of the living to do better, even if he wasn’t enough before.

Shakily, shoulders bowed, Vash changes directions and grabs the spoon. With a practiced hand, he pushes the edge of the spoon into the wall beside yesterday’s tally. Methodically, he grinds the spoon into the wall, ignoring the way the movement makes his knuckles ache. Only once the mark is made to his satisfaction does he relax his grip on the spoon.

There. He’s made it another day, and will make it to the next. Now he can rest, if only briefly, to prepare himself for the future. Now, he allows himself to curl up in his sleep spot under the bench. Making himself as small as possible, he succumbs to the weight of his eyelids. Too tired to resist, he lets himself imagine a familiar hand in his hair, a soft feminine voice singing lullabies like it used to when he had a bad dream. Just before sleep sweeps him away entirely, he feels the ghost of a hand, its identical fingers clasping his own comfortingly. 

He sleeps.

Vash rolls sideways out from under the bench before he even opens his eyes. He sits up stiffly, grabbing the edge of the bench to drag himself upwards. His nap barely scratched his bone deep exhaustion, but at least now he feels a little less raw, a little less likely to crack at the edges. 

It’s dark, looking to be well into the night. He groans. Hopefully morning isn’t far away and his nap can just count as an early night’s sleep. At least the second biggest moon appears to be full tonight, bathing his cell in a weak light.

Sighing, he starts his morning stretches. He didn’t get to do them earlier, so he might as well just do them now. Keeping himself strong is one of the few things he can do to prepare for a chance to help out. Besides, Rem always said that one of the best things for a tired mind was exercise.

18 minutes into his routine, Vash picks up hushed whispers at the edge of his hearing. He freezes mid-lunge, mind racing. No one usually comes down this corridor once the suns have set. Were they coming to punish him for yesterday? Against his will, Vash can feel his breath speeding up. If they’d finally decided they had enough of him, what would they do to him?

A room bathed in red, a tank with a single eye, staring—no, no, no, he’s not thinking about that. There are countless humans on this ship. He has to believe that at least one would stop it from going that far. He’s going to be fine.

Vash creeps closer to the door, straining to make out what the voices are saying. 

“...only option? …crew scared… can’t control… Plant…”

His brow furrows, trying to figure out what they mean, trying to ignore the panic that is starting to take root in his chest.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way, I just—shh! I think I heard something, we need to be quieter!”

Heart pounding, Vash takes a step back from the door as the quiet footsteps stop just outside. He hears them engaging the control pad, the sequence audibly different to that of the food delivery system.

With a hiss, the door slides open, revealing a large, intimidating figure. Vash’s eyes dart up the muscular frame to land on a scowling face. His breath hitches, and he looks towards the door, trying to weigh his chances of dashing past. A second figure blocks his path, this one familiar.

“Luida?!” squeaks out Vash. As the haze of panic lifts, he looks again at the first figure. “And… Brad?”

He’s calmer but no less confused. He hasn’t seen Brad since his arrival in this cell. And while Luida has had the rare visit, it’s never been so late at night.

“Hey, Vash,” greets Luida, a tired smile on her face. “Sorry for waking you, but things have gotten…complicated.”

Brad snorts, “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. More like everything’s become a giant steaming pile of shi—”

“Brad!” hisses Luida, “Watch your language, he’s just a child!”

“Can Plants even be children? You Plant scientists always just call Plants ‘new’ or ‘old’, and they look the same whether they’re a day old or have been around for 200 years.” 

Vash looks down at his feet, unable to face the scrutiny head-on. A gentle hand lands on his shoulder, the foreign warmth of another living body soaking through his shirt. His breath hitches as he tries, and fails, to stop himself from leaning into the kind touch.

Squeezing his shoulder gently, Luida once again scolds Brad. “Vash is an Independent Plant, they’re different. Look at him, he’s grown at least a foot since he’s gotten here. The end of his body suit is closer to his knees than his ankles now. He’s clearly quite young and still growing.” She sighs. “And even if you don’t know the science, it’s pretty obvious you’re making him upset. I’m grateful you agreed to help, but could you please try to be more considerate?”

Vash looks between the adults, reluctant to interrupt, but unable to hold back his questions any longer. “Wh—what are you two doing here? Am I in trouble?”

“Sure are, brat, after that tantrum you threw,” drawls Brad.

“Brad!”

“Fine, fine. Well, br—” a quick glance at Luida’s face makes Brad cut off mid-word. He coughs. “Well, kid, I have no idea how you knew, but one of our Plants died yesterday. And the crew is panicking. First one of our Plants die, and we have no idea how to stop it. Then it comes out that at the same time that happens, the freaky other kind of Plant we somehow picked up starts screaming.”

Vash flinches, the memory of the awful snap rising to the surface, the feeling of something essential being ripped away. The feeling of being helpless as another important bond slips through his fingers.

Luida crouches down to Vash’s eye level, now putting both hands on his shoulders. “I didn’t hear about you yelling in time, Vash. I’m sorry. I was already in the Plant room when the problems started. By the time the news reached me, it was already over. Could you tell me now what you were thinking?”

A lump burning in his throat, Vash looks into Luida’s expectant eyes. He’s reminded of Rem, of how she always made sure to hear out all sides of a story before making any decisions. He swallows.

“I heard her screaming.” Luida’s eyes widen. “Or, well, I felt it? It’s hard to explain. But she knew I was close, and she was so scared . I wanted to help, something was obviously wrong. I didn’t want her to feel so alone. I… I tried to go to her, but no one would listen, and then she—” Vash cuts himself off, unable to say another word.

“Oh Vash, I’m so sorry,” says Luida, squeezing his shoulders again.

“Alright, break up the pity party,” says Brad, “You’ve convinced me;, there’s no way he did it. I’ll help you with your plan.”

Luida jumps to her feet, turning to Brad, “Thank you! I knew I could count on you.”

Brad looks away, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “Hey, I just didn’t think it made sense for him to start sabotaging us after this long if he had the power to do that this entire time. I just wanted to know why he would start screaming all of a sudden. Though honestly the real reason is almost as bad—telepathy, seriously? How freaky can you get? But blaming the kid for this disaster is just stupid. May as well go along with your plan instead, no big deal.”

Vash blinks slowly, trying to stay on track despite just wishing Luida’s comforting hands were back on his shoulder. Everything was happening so fast. “Plan? What plan?”

Luida smiles at him. “For starters, I mean we’re getting you out of this cell.” She turns back to Brad. “Could you go grab the supplies and meet us by exit S82? I’ll explain the rest to Vash, but we better get moving if he’s to be out of sight by sunsrise.”

Vash’s hand is grabbed and he’s pulled outside of his cell. He jolts at the contact, and he stumbles after it, barely even noticing the first step he takes out of his cell after so long. Before he knows it, they are already speed walking down the hall. Once he regains his bearings, Vash is wide-eyed, head turning as he tries to absorb everything all at once, feeling like a bobble head.

He’s seen countless hallways identical to these aboard Ship 5, and yet they feel new and overwhelming. He’s even hyper aware of the air, which feels alive instead of stuffy and still. It even smells different. Vash inhales deeply as they walk. There, the curry that’s often served for dinner, the chemicals used in the reactors, and the musk of many humans living in close quarters.

“...have you got that? Vash? Vash!”

Vash nearly trips as the hand gripping his abruptly stops moving. He tears his eyes away from the corridor he had been looking down, wondering if it led to the Plant room based on smell and the near imperceptible hum that he used to hear near the Plants on Ship 5.

“Huh? Sorry, Luida, did you say something?”

Luida pinches the bridge of her nose, and Vash shifts guiltily, trying to refocus his overwhelmed mind.

“I was trying to explain what’s going to happen next, but I guess a lot has happened in a short period of time. You must be pretty stressed. I know it’s a lot, but do you think you can listen while we walk? There’s not a lot of time.”

Vash bites his lip. He’s finally being trusted with something, and he’s already blowing it. Taking a deep breath, he resolutely shoves away the overwhelming sensory information, focusing entirely on the familiar figure in front of him. “Okay, I’m listening now, I swear I won’t let you down again.”

Flashing Vash a smile that seems partly pained, Luida tugs on his hand once again and begins walking. “Oh Vash, I have no doubt you’re doing your best. If there was more time—anyways, there are things I need you to hear.

“What happened with the Plant yesterday scared everyone. We’re already hard-pressed for resources, so having a Plant die unexpectedly was one of the worst things that could have happened for morale. The fact that you could feel it and reacted at the same time had, well, unfortunate consequences. I was already having trouble getting the crew to trust you, and now they're even more scared. Many believe you caused our Plant to die out of spite.”

Vash jerks, unable to keep from blurting out, “No! I wouldn’t do that! I—”

Luida squeezes his hand reassuringly, cutting him off. “I know you wouldn’t. Even Brad didn’t really believe you would, and you saw how prickly he is. But not everybody has met you, and they’re lashing out, trying to find an explanation.”

“So are we going to go meet with the crew now, then? If they meet me in person and hear me explain, maybe they’ll believe me.”

“Unfortunately, I think it’s too late for that. I’ve overheard some of the crew planning something… rash, and I think seeing you would just rile them up even more. Even as their leader, there’s only so much I can do. The crew needs to be able to trust that I take their opinions into account.”

Vash swallows, desperately focusing on the feeling of a bigger hand guiding his in order to keep his breathing steady. She’s trying to prevent something bad from happening to him, she can’t be leading him to something terrible.

“At this point, I don’t think this ship is safe for you anymore. So we’re smuggling you off the ship entirely, with as many supplies as we can spare. It’s far from ideal, I know, but the crew should let it go if you’re already gone.” Luida glances over shoulder down at Vash where his faltering steps have left him behind. “I’m sorry, I know this is too little too late. I should have never let you stay in that cell for so long, and now that this has happened, I don’t have any other choice.”

The next minute is spent walking in silence, Vash trying to string together something to say to that. Before he can, Luida tugs him into an airlock chamber, letting go of his hand to close the door behind them. Vash is left standing there, feeling cold and alone. The view of the landscape is visible through the airlock’s window, so similar to the view from his cell. The land that he had spent countless hours daydreaming being able to explore freely, looks harsh and empty of everything except sand. 

“We just need to wait for Brad now, he’ll have the supplies I prepared. Once he comes, you’ll need to go. Do you see that big sand dune, a little to the left? You should head that direction. If you get over it before the suns rise, no one from the ship should be able to spot you. The winds are strong enough that your footprints should be gone by then, too.”

His gaze follows her pointing finger to the distant sand dune, which looks to be anywhere from a 30 minute to an hour long walk from here, at his best clumsy guess.

Vash turns his terrified eyes back to Luida. “And then what? What do I do after the dune?”

“I’m sorry, but that will have to be up to you. We haven’t explored much of the planet yet, and our sensors haven’t been calibrated to handle all of the sand very well, so we don’t yet know what is out there or the best ways to handle it. But our scientists do believe that there has to be some limited water to support the population of Worms.”

Worms? There’s something else out there? He wants to ask, but remembers his promise to stay focused on what Luida is saying, and keeps his mouth shut.

“There probably isn’t much out there. Our system would have definitely picked bodies of water significant enough to support the shipp, but for a lone traveler, the chance of finding something sustainable is much higher.”

Taking a breath, Luida looks at Vash, as if to make sure he’s still paying attention. Seemingly satisfied by what she sees, she continues. “Another option besides finding your own supplies is to try and find some of the other crashed ships. It could be risky, but they might be able to take you in and give you a warmer reception than you had here, at least.” She tilts her head at Vash, “Have you learned to use a compass?”

Vash nods. Rem had loved exploring nature on Earth, and used to tell them stories about wandering through the few forests that still existed, with nothing more than some water and a compass. She even set up an artificial magnetic pole in the biodome so they could play games, promising it’d be great practice for when they’d go hiking together, the three of them, when they finally settled on a new planet.

“Good. Brad should bring one along with the rest of the supplies. Our calculations say that the next closest ship that fell is somewhere to the east. If you lose the compass, remember that the suns rise on the west on this planet.”

Pausing at the look on Vash’s face, Luida sighs. “I’m sorry, this is too much. Don’t worry, I’ve written this down, along with any other advice I could think of, and packed the notes in with the supplies.” Her voice softens, “Hey, this will be hard, but you can do this. I saw some of the notes that Rem of yours left about you. She was so proud, always talking about how clever and determined you are.”

Vash gives a watery smile. Even gone, Rem kept her promise of gushing about her miracle boys to everyone they would meet.

“And I see it too. It’s been hard, but you haven’t given up, right? You’re an amazing kid that I wish I had a chance to get to know better.” Luida’s voice gets a bit choked up, “I believe in you. And I know your family, even if they aren’t here anymore, believe in you too. You can carry on, for Rem and for your brother, too. I know you can.”

Vash stiffens as soon as the word ‘brother’ leaves Luida’s mouth. Things he usually can’t bear to face rise to the surface, and the guilt over the lie he’d told to Luida the day they first met churns in his gut. He opens his mouth, then stops, and closes it again. He’s not even sure who he’s protecting at this point. He goes again to reply, not certain what he is about to blurt out, then— 

“Luida, how much did you pack for this brat? You know we’ve been running low lately!”

Brad shoulders his way into the room carrying a backpack in one arm and a pile of fabric draped over the other. He takes one look at their faces and recoils. “Oh hell no, I’m not getting involved in whatever touchy feely thing you guys got going on here. The kid’s gonna take his stuff and then get out of here, nice and easy.”

Luida huffs a laugh. “Feelings won’t kill you, you know.”

“Maybe not, but I’d rather not risk it,” mutters Brad. 

Vash jumps as the backpack is thrust in front of his face. Brad starts lecturing, “Here, your supplies. It’s mostly water and rations. No one will be around to help dehydrate and reheat the food, so you better read the instructions carefully. I don’t want any of our precious resources to go to waste because you were sloppy, d’you hear me?”

Taking the offered bag gingerly, Vash slings it over his shoulders, surprised at the weight. There really must be a generous amount of supplies for one person, given how the ship as a whole has been struggling. Then again, Vash has no idea how long he’ll need to make these last. He’ll just be grateful for what they could spare, he decides firmly.

Luida adds, “There’s also various tools that should help, like a compass. I’ve attached instructions to everything in there, so you should be able to figure it out, even if you haven’t seen the tool before. Check over everything in the bag once you’re far enough away—it’s important to know your resources.”

Vash nods, feeling the nervous butterflies reappearing in his stomach. This is really happening. The bag over his shoulders is making the reality of the situation sink in. He’s about to leave the SEEDS ship, the only type of environment he’s ever really known. He’ll be alone, truly alone, for the first time ever. This should be a good thing. It should be the chance he’s been waiting for, for something to change so he can act and make a difference. But now that it’s happening, he’s not certain it will be enough. What good can he be if he is far away from the people he wants to help? He couldn’t figure out a way to help when he was living on the ship, why should that change when he leaves—

Vash splutters, as he gets a mouthful of cloth. He reels back at the impact of something being tossed in his face. His arms instinctively shoot out to catch the bundle as it falls.

“Wha—?”

Clutching the material to his chest, he blinks rapidly. Across from him, Brad is scratching the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. “Better take care of those, kid. Clothes are getting really hard to get ahold of nowadays.”

Looking down at the bundle, Vash sees that he’s holding a cloak, alongside a tank top and some pants.

Luida chuckles softly, “And you said you didn’t care. I knew you had it in you.”

“Shut up, this is just practical. You pointed it out yourself, he’s growing, his current stuff is practically splitting down the seams, I just happened to remember where we had a spare set on the way to get the rest of the supplies, no big deal.” Brad looks down at Vash, scowling at Vash’s awed expression. “What are you looking at? I told you it was nothing, don’t get the wrong idea, I just don’t want you to come crawling back if we don’t give you enough supplies.”

Vash ducks his head, smiling and holding the precious clothes to his chest. This must be what Rem meant, when she said that everyone should be given a chance because everyone had sides you might not know. The future is blank, it could always surprise you, so you should never give up on yourself or others before you even start.

“Thank you, Brad.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this show on the road—light’ll be up in less than 2 hours, and I want you out of here by then.” Brad opens a panel in the wall, and starts typing until the locking mechanism clicks and the airlock starts opening.

The outside air sweeps into the room, carrying with it smells Vash has never experienced before. Squaring his shoulder, Vash lets the newness bring hope instead of fear. This fresh start will be his ticket to the future, and could be just the chance he’s been looking for.

Walking forward, he accepts the hand Luida offers to lower him down to take his first step off the ship. The sand hits his bare foot, colder than he was expecting, the tiny grains rushing to fill the gaps between his toes.

At the slight tug on the hand Luida is still holding, Vash turns around. “I guess this is finally goodbye. But you know what? I know you can do this, Vash. And this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. I can’t tell you when, but I believe that when things finally calm down, you can come back and we can try again. I’ll keep working hard, so I want to see you by my side again, okay?”

Brad clears his throat, “Yeah, kid, I’ll want those supplies returned, so you better come back with it in one piece someday.”

Vash smiles back up at the pair. “I’ll definitely come back one day, I swear it.” He wishes he could hug Luida goodbye, but he’s not entirely sure of his welcome. He decides it’s not worth the risk, because if he climbs back onto the ship and she does hug him back, he’s not certain he would be able to find the strength to leave again.

Vash lets his hand slip out of Luida’s, and turns back towards the open planet. Then, one foot moving in front of the other, one step at a time, he walks away from the SEEDS ship and into the desert.

Chapter Text

The suns beat down relentlessly. His first impression of the sand being cool to touch had most definitely been because it had been nighttime. His only saving grace is that Brad snuck some shoes into his pack in addition to giving him new clothes. Otherwise he’d probably be using his old clothes as some sort of awkward foot wrapping to try and protect his feet.

He’s been thinking of trying to sleep during the day and traveling at night in order to make more progress. At the very least, it might help him preserve water. Vash runs his tongue over his cracked lips, the very thought of water making thirst pang through him.

Vash doesn’t get any water from the pack, though. He’s been given 15 liters of water, and he can’t afford to be indulgent until he finds more. Luida’s notes say that it should last him about three weeks, but with careful rationing, Vash thinks he can make it close to double that. He doesn’t know if Luida was underestimating his self control, or if this is just another way that he’s different from humans. Out here all by himself, there’s no way to tell.

He’s getting worried that even with the extra time, it won’t be enough. It’s been 8 days, and he still hasn’t accomplished anything substantial. All he’s done is read over all of the notes and familiarize himself with everything in the pack. He hasn’t even decided if he wants to take his chances with another SEEDS ship yet, he’s just been walking vaguely eastward. It’s not like there’s anything specific in the other directions he wants to find anyways.

Rounding the top of yet another dune, Vash trips on the way down, turning his descent into an ungraceful roll that stops just before a rocky outcrop among the sand. Breathing hard, Vash shrugs off the backpack, and lays on his back on the hot sand.

This is harder than he could have imagined. Vash had thought he had gotten used to being alone. But somehow, this solitary tread where he doesn’t even have the hope of one of Luida’s rare visits, or even just the sound of people just beyond his door, is worse than his time in the cell.

Not only is the loneliness harder to bear, but now he’s also hot and thirsty and aching all over. It feels like he’s forgotten how to walk, the way he’s constantly tripping in the sand. His limbs have gotten bigger, and now it’s like he has forgotten how to keep track of them, constantly getting surprised at how they hit the ground and falling flat on his face. He tries to focus on the positives, but even the beauty in the landscape feels overwhelming, the vast stretches of empty land dizzying. He spent the first 3 days walking with his gaze glued to the ground directly in front of his feet to stop the wave of vertigo he got whenever he saw an open sky instead of a ceiling.

He’s pathetic. He’s been given this amazing opportunity, and he’s wasting it feeling sorry for himself, and wishing he was back in his cell. He even panicked after the first day of walking, realizing that he didn’t have his spoon and so had no way of recording that he made it through another day. Of course, he no longer has his cell walls, so the spoon would have been useless anyhow.

Instead, Vash has been keeping a careful tally on his old clothing, using some of the grease provided to help maintain some of the equipment. He feels bad about the waste, but at least this way he isn’t damaging anything he’s been given. Of course, the old clothes have less room than his cell walls, so the issue is going to come up again later.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vash continues to lay there in the sand, trying not to cry. Not only does he not deserve to, but he really shouldn’t waste liquids just because he’s upset. The minutes tick on as he lies there, telling himself he’s going to pick himself back up any second now. He just needs one moment, just one, without harsh reality staring him in the face. 

But even now, sand tickles his nose and his stomach twists with thirst and hunger. Reality is as inescapable as the unrelenting suns, whose light stains the back of his eyelids red even as he clamps them shut. Then, for a split second, the red disappears, leaving true darkness behind.

In a flash, Vash is bolt upright, looking around frantically. Overhead, a strange figure is circling the rocky outcropping he had narrowly avoided a collision with. Its slender body loops in lazy curves, as if to contrast the frantic beating of its wings. It glides onto the highest point of the rock, its thin feet setting down with more elegance than Vash has probably ever managed in his life.

Vash stares at it, hardly able to breathe. This is the first being he’s ever seen aside from humans and Plants. It must be a Worm, one of the few native species to the planet, according to the notes. Maybe he can ask it for help? Plants and Worms don’t have any history between them, maybe it’ll be more willing to give him a chance than the humans.

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the Worm takes off in the air again, flying around the outcropping. Vash scrambles up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder, “No, wait, I just want to talk! Don’t leave.”

Ignoring him, the Worm continues flying around the rocks. Vash stumbles after it, still calling out. At one of the turns, his foot skids on the sand, and he only stops a rolling fall by awkwardly splaying out his other foot, turning the movement into a jerky spin. Turning back to the outcropping, Vash’s heart leaps to his throat as barren rocks meet his gaze. He lost it!

About to turn away, a flash of green in his peripheral vision has him freezing. There! Right at the base where rock meets sand, the end of the Worm’s tail flickers out of sight. From this angle, it looks solid, but if he follows the twist in the rock… aha! A small opening.

Holding onto the rock, Vash carefully slides himself into the opening feet first, shimming his way under the rock. He drags himself deeper, using the rock above his head as leverage to pull himself across the sand. He expects his feet to hit rock almost immediately, but instead the opening continues. Finally, it is his hands that hit the end before his feet, being met with open air when he reaches up for another handhold.

Cautiously, he continues to slide forward until he can sit up without banging his head. He looks around, but the opening of the cave doesn’t let much light in, and he can’t make out anything. At the very least, it’s mercifully cool, protected from the suns’ rays.

Vash clears his throat, and calls, “Hello?”, jumping when the call echoes around the cave.

“Worm?” he calls again. “Or whatever you want to be called. I just want to talk. Are you there?”

After the echoes fade, Vash strains his ears, but there’s nothing but silence. There’s a few heartbeats of nothing, then a green glow starts filling the cave. Eyes wide, Vash looks around until he finds the source. Clinging to the ceiling are dozens of Worms, all emitting a gentle green glow. One Worm is flying in lazy circles and loops once around Vash, before flying up to the ceiling and joining its brethren.

Vash considers trying to speak again, but something stops him. It’s as if there is a hum in the air, sleepy and content. He doesn’t want to interrupt. Instead he takes a closer look around the now lit cave. It’s small, maybe 9 metres across from where he’s sitting, and 3 metres wide. The ceiling looks to be just taller than him at its lowest point.

In the far corner, something reflective sparkles, drawing his eye. Quietly, he walks across to take a closer look, and has to stifle a gasp. Water! There’s water in the cave! The pool is small, but seems to go deep into the ground.

Hands shaking, he cups the water in his palms and brings it to his face. The coolness is a pleasant shock, soothing his overheated flesh and washing the sand out of his pores. Now overwhelmingly thirsty, Vash barely maintains enough presence of mind to grab the pack and take out the water tester. He sticks it into the water and holds his breath. After 20 seconds, there’s a soft ding, and the indicator turns green.

Without waiting another second, Vash dips his face into the pool and drinks his fill for the first time in over a week. Then he fills up the water containers he had emptied so far. He wants to cry again, but this time from relief. Now, if he did let himself cry, he could easily replenish the water lost.

Looking up at the Worms, he’s not sure if they did it on purpose, but he’s grateful. He tries to project as much of his feelings as he can, and whispers, “Thank you.”

As if in response, the light from the Worms starts to dim, returning the cave to darkness. Vash sits in the resulting calm, deciding what to do next. This is the first refuge he’s found since he set out, he’s not keen on leaving immediately. If he sets up camp here, it’ll be easier to try sleeping during the day, here in the cool and dark.

Decided, Vash spreads out his cloak on the ground, getting comfortable. Then he pauses, and gets his old clothes from the bag, along with the tin of grease. He crawls through the entrance until there is just enough light to make out the previous day’s tallies. Dipping the edge of his pinky in the grease, he carefully marks the day, blowing lightly on the mark to help it set. He crawls back into the cave and settles in. He’s made it another day.

Something’s strange. There’s a rustling sound, a skkk skkk of rapid movement. That doesn’t make sense. Nothing in his cell makes that noise. No, but he isn’t there anymore, is he? He’s in the desert, where there’s nothing but the sound of the wind and the movement of sand. Then what is it, where is he?

Vash sits up abruptly, the jolt of panic clearing the disorientation of sleep from his mind. He’s in the cave. But what’s happening? Is he in danger? Is the cave collapsing? He squints, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the odd smears of green moving across his vision. Blinking he looks again, but it doesn’t change. A green glow really is moving around the cave.

As he watches, one of the green lights darts out of the cave entrance, shortly followed by another. Looking at the ceiling, Vash can see the previously still Worms circling, the beating of all of their wings causing a soft rustling sound to echo through the cave. They seem to be leaving, one by one.

By the time Vash settles his cloak back on his shoulders, and grabs the backpack, the majority of the Worms have left. In the fast dimming light, Vash finds the pool of water and once again drinks his fill. Heading towards the entrance, he waits for the last Worm to leave and then shimmies out after them.

Outside, the sky is dimly lit, and the moons that have just begun to rise provide a soft light. The Worms must have taken off just as the suns set. Vash looks around, trying to spot where the Worms went. He spots a line of green, and as he traces their path, his breath catches.

It’s as if the sky has turned into a vast river of green, countless currents of glowing Worms running through the air. Small streams trickle into the river from various parts of the desert, coming together to form a greater whole. Ebbing and flowing according to a rhythm only the Worms understand, the river flows purposely towards some unseen goal.

Vash takes a step forward before he can stop himself, as if he could join the Worms in their cascade through the air, a buzzing under his skin telling him to go! Be part of the whole, have a purpose once again!

Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away from the breathtaking sight. He can’t fly away, and he’s not a Worm who can join in. He’s a lone landbound Plant and he can’t afford to get caught up with the Worms. Right now, what he needs to do is to properly take advantage of what the Worms have revealed to him. The cave was a miraculous stroke of luck, and he can’t waste it.

He needs to keep moving, but he needs to be able to find the cave again. Even if he fails to find any more water, having the option to be able to backtrack to this cave and refill his supply will allow him to take more risks. 

He’s still struggling with identifying what parts of the landscape can be used as landmarks, and what parts change too quickly or look too similar to everything else to be useful. But… if he’s traveling at night now, then maybe he can use the stars? When they were young, Rem told them many stories based on the constellations on Earth. Rem had loved how many different ways different cultures could perceive the same stars to tell countless different stories, even though during her childhood, the stars had hardly been visible at all. Here on this planet, the stars are crisp and bright. If Vash finds his own shapes and stories among them, he might be able to use them to help figure out where he is.

But he has to be careful. While the stars won’t disappear like the sand, they will change. Remembering the times they spent under the planetarium projector, he pictures the dance of the stars against the ceiling. The stars would be rotating around a single point. That point will be the key. Over time, by using his compass and careful observation, he should be able to learn the patterns. He’ll need to be careful not to lose the cave to begin with, but even a rough estimate will allow him to travel much farther without fear of losing track of it for good.

His next moves roughly decided, Vash finally allows himself to look back at the sky. His breath catches. It’s only been a few minutes, but the sheer awe-striking scale of the green river had already become duller in his memory, its wonder only truly able to be experienced in the moment.

He was so very wrong earlier. This planet is anything but a barren wasteland. There’s life here, thriving on a scale he can barely comprehend. His limited perspective had just stopped him from seeing it until now. If he had to guess, Vash would say that by traveling during the day, he had been sleeping through the active hours of life living according to this planet’s cycle.

Instead of muddling through based solely on his own limited knowledge of guesswork, he should observe the Worms, the ones who actually belong on this planet. He was lucky to see that first Worm in the afternoon and be able to follow it to where it rested during the hotter hours of the day. Now that he knows they are there, he can learn from them. 

As a matter of fact… Vash squints, trying to see the ground where the closest stream of Worms is running into the overall flow, already fading with only a few stragglers lighting the path. Amid the sandy landscape, he spots what he was looking for. A slightly darker brown, a barely visible smudge in the distance. Another rocky outcropping. If he’s lucky, it could be hiding another cave with water. At the very least, it probably provides enough shade to sleep comfortably during the day.

Still within sight of the water cave, it’s a perfect next goal while he’s orienting himself with the stars. And if his hunch is right, keeping track of this specific cave will become less pressing anyway.

His breath coming easy in the cool night air, path lit by a thousand dancing Worms, and armed with his backpack and a solid plan, Vash walks on.

Over the next few weeks, Vash follows a new routine. He sleeps during the day and rises with the moons. His previously meaningless walk to the east of Ship 3 is replaced with purposeful easternly zigzags. Each night is spent heading towards a specific location, ending with another tally marked on his clothes and curling beneath a shadow to sleep as the moons set. Each new location is either a new spot from which to orient himself with the stars or another safe haven used by the Worms. Not every haven contains water, but with the reduction in his water use by avoiding the harsh sunlight, water is just common enough that he stops worrying that his supplies will run out.

And as he walks, he learns. He learns to read the stars and to orient himself based on them alone. He learns to be able to read the mood of the desert and when the weather is at risk of taking a bad turn. He learns to spot a good resting area from a distance and the signs that indicate that the area may be hiding water. He learns to plot out the best paths across the dunes and the gait needed to walk easily across the sand.

He tries several more times to engage with the Worms, but doesn’t have much luck. They either ignore him or fly away when he approaches. Instead, he just watches from a distance and tries to learn.

The mesmerizing sight of the river of Worms is not a common phenomena. Most nights there are only small currents of Worms flying between the various safe havens. His working theory is that it might have something to do with the moons, as the nights with more activity appear to coincide when at least one of the moons is full. He’ll need months more to truly test it.

The other thing he learns about the Worms is that there are many different types. The easiest ones to spot are the small flying ones which glow green at night. There are larger flying ones, harder to spot due to the lack of glow, but can be almost as large as Vash himself. But the truly large ones are the hardest to see. They swim through the sand, rather than the air. Vash has seen a few moving in the sand that are three times larger than he is. And while he’s never seen them directly, he’s found tracks that make him think that they can get much, much, larger.

Whatever the main source of nutrients is for the Worms is likely either in the air or buried beneath the ground, as Vash has never seen anything resembling food where the Worms rest. For Vash, the only source of nutrients he’s found is unfortunately the Worms themselves. At first he had hesitated, not wanting to consume the lifeform he is sharing the desert with. He still had quite a lot of nutritionally dense rations in his pack, and he could likely find another crashed ship before he runs out.

But one day, when lingering outside the latest rocky outcropping, Vash spotted a swarm of Worms over the ground. Wanting to get a closer look at the unusual sight, he walked closer, scaring off the Worms. Left behind was a half-eaten body of a fallen Worm. He realized then that in the desert, no part of life can go to waste. If he eats any of the fallen Worms he finds, he isn’t cruelly consuming the bodies of his only company, he is participating alongside the Worms in following the unwritten laws of the desert.

After this realization, Vash keeps an eye out for fallen Worms and discovers that once you know where to look, just like with the water, there is enough to sustain a single traveler indefinitely. Vash is grateful for this.

Despite Luida’s suggestion, after weeks spent in the desert, the idea of heading straight for another ship is… uncomfortable. Vash doesn’t really want to dwell on it, but as much as he misses Luida, and even mourns losing the chance to get to know Brad for all his brusqueness, his time on Ship 3 had not been entirely pleasant. He knows that most of them were probably good people, but that didn’t mean he had been safe. Vash is absolutely positive that the other ships are also full of good people, and it was even likely there are some who would be kind to him. But, just as on Ship 3, those people are scared. He couldn’t blame them if they also wanted to lock him up, or worse. It just seems easier to avoid any ships, and not force the humans into having to make a difficult choice.

Maybe once he finally figures out something truly helpful he can do, it’d be worth approaching a ship. At least if he waits, he doesn’t have to try and figure out the best way to help while trapped in another cell. For now his place is out here, alone, in the desert.

The weeks continue to wear on, and Vash becomes confident he can do this indefinitely. Survival is less of a daily struggle, and more a matter of course. He no longer needs to spend most of his days focused on learning the desert and what his immediate next steps are. This is a relief, and yet as that weight lifts off his shoulders, a yawning emptiness grows in the pit of his stomach.

With too much time to think, Vash’s thoughts fall into familiar circles. He can survive, but for what purpose is he living? He wants to help the humans and the Plants survive, but memories of others’ pain tells him how useless his help has been so far. The echoing screams filling his ears as he runs across blood-soaked sand and the desperate pleas reverberating throughout his entire body as his sister dies far away from him prove that well enough.

He keeps swearing to get better so that he can help next time, but where has that led him? He’s learned the desert, but that hasn’t helped anyone but himself. He’s never been enough to save anybody else by himself. And now he’s all alone and that hasn’t changed.

With little choice, he plods on, day by day, steps guided by little more than a need to keep moving. Vash has started heading more towards the south, not wanting to risk running into another ship so soon. He chooses south over north on little more than some base instinct saying it would be better. Given that there’s no real purpose to his direction, he follows it.

The days begin to blur together, marked only by the growing tally on his old clothing, proof that he made it even just one more step. The only thing continuing to separate out the days is his mood, and how capable he is of facing that day.

On the good days, Vash tries to continue learning the planet. He finds wonder in each new phenomena, no matter how small, and feels excited curiosity over each new question he forms. He had been so eager to explore a real planet when he was younger, and sometimes that wish coming true makes him smile.

On the bad days, the way that wish came true spoils any spark of joy. He looks at the stars solely to orient himself, never with awe. He follows the Worms blindly for his next pitstop, no room in his heart for any curiosity about the other lifeforms and how they work. And he aches. Oh, how he aches.

He misses Rem so much sometimes he thinks he’ll be torn in two. It was bad enough in his cell, but now, surrounded by things she would love so much, the fact he’ll never share them with her hits that much harder. He longs to hear her barking a laugh as he manages to trip down yet another sand dune, and turns the fall into an awkward pirouette to avoid landing flat on his face. To get told stories about the deserts on Earth and what they were like. To have her arms around him, making him feel hidden from all of the terror of the world, knowing that she would protect him.

And on the really, really bad days, on the days his solitude burns and he watches the Worms flow together as if they could never be otherwise, Vash wishes for him. The one he thought was his one true partner in this world. Even his sisters feel different, but they were the same. A playmate, a partner in crime, someone that would back him up without any hesitation just as he would in return. A partner he could turn to when even Rem had trouble understanding what he meant, and be understood.

And yet, had he ever even truly had that? Is he just wishing for something that never existed? If they truly would back each other up without hesitation, could understand each other best among all others, how could the Fall have happened? Vash hadn’t had the slightest clue his twin was going to do that, and still didn’t, couldn’t , understand why he had done it. Maybe that was his first true failure: not being worth confiding in and being unable to see the problem himself. All Vash knew is that something vital had shattered that terrible day, something that might have been cracked all along, and he wasn’t certain that what had broken could ever be repaired.

Chapter Text

Vash walks on, feet sinking into the sand. Today feels like it is shaping up to be a bad day. Yesterday, he hadn’t managed to make it to the next rocky outcropping and had to make do by sleeping in the shadow of a dune. His sleep had been restless and left him feeling like he had been left out in the suns to dry. His head is already buzzing, a tingling sensation that has been growing over the last few days.

He pauses briefly in front of two large dunes. He should climb one and reorient himself if he wants to make it to an outcropping by sunsrise this time. On a whim, he picks the one on his right. A lot of his traveling decisions have been made that way lately. Ever since he lost a specific goal by deciding that he wasn’t going to the ship in the east, the only guidance he has are base impulses.

He starts heading up the dune, wedging his toes into the sand slightly to give himself a grip on the incline. Nearly at the crest of the dune, the low buzz in the back of his skull kicks up a notch. Vash groans. With this kind of start to his day, things are bound to be rough. Maybe he should just give in, and let himself think about–

“NAI!”

He starts sprinting, shrugging off his bag to gain more speed, plumes of sand flying with each step. The distant figure jerks up in surprise at his shout, but doesn’t have a chance to respond before Vash is there, throwing his arms around him and squeezing tightly.

Nai makes a startled sound, but his arms wrap around Vash without hesitation, squeezing him back just as tightly.

For a second, it’s as if nothing has changed. Nai’s arms wrap around him the way they always have, one arm around his waist, and the other around the back of his neck. Burying his head in Nai’s shoulder, Vash breathes in that oh so familiar scent, like a refreshing breeze with an undertone of ozone. For a second, everything is okay again. He’s home.

But slowly, small differences trickle into his awareness. Both of them have grown in their time apart, enough that their arms wrap noticeably further around the other. The discrepancies from their experiences apart also become obvious. Nai’s chest is broader than before, while Vash’s has been getting steadily thinner since his arrival on the planet due to the scarcity of resources.

His scent is subtly different as well. Although the base scent remains the same, it is no longer overlaid with the smell of the cleaning products used on Ship 5. Now, Nai smells of the desert.

But Vash can ignore these differences in the wake of his relief. His nerves practically sing with connection, replacing the buzz that had left him feeling increasingly restless. He instead grips Nai impossibly tighter, as if he just needs to hold on tight enough to fill the yawning void that had opened up inside of him ever since that terrible day.

But then, the moment is ruined. And as always, it’s all Nai’s fault.

“Finally got over yourself, have you? Took you long enough, I was starting to get impatient.”

Vash stiffens at the arrogant tone, feeling like reality had just slapped him in the face. Silently, he pulls back, and gets his first proper look at Nai’s face since their parting. It’s a little bigger, a little more defined, and the hair, although it is neater than Vash’s, has grown out. But it’s undeniably his twin’s familiar and much loved face. And upon that face, is a much less loved, but frustratingly equally familiar, smirk.

As the silence stretches, Nai adds, “Oh, come on Vash, surely you didn’t come back to me just to give me the silent treatment? Do you need another year or can we finally talk without you throwing a tantrum?”

Tantrum? Finally shaken out of his stupor, Vash snarls, “You killed everyone! You killed Rem !” His voice cracks on the last word. “You call not being okay with that a tantrum ?”

“Well, I can’t exactly call you screaming at me and then stomping off a mature and measured response, now can I?” drawls Nai. 

“I can’t believe you, how can you be so flippant? You ruined everything!” Vash’s fists clench, his whole body tensing from the force of the anger he is finally letting himself feel.

This finally makes the frustrating smirk falter, irritation taking its place. “I did not! I fixed things. We fixed things, need I remind you? We’re in this together.”

Vash flinches, and retorts, “I wish I hadn’t found you again! Being alone is better than being with you !” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

However, instead of looking hurt, Nai regains his smugness. “Big words for someone who hasn’t stopped clinging to me since he got here.” With that, a warm hand wraps around his wrist, bringing Vash’s attention back to his hands.

Looking down, Vash sees his hands, even clenched in anger, are clinging greedily to the cloak across Nai’s chest. With a sound of outrage, Vash rips himself away, ignoring the part of him that is already mourning the loss of contact.

“Well, for your information, I haven’t ‘gotten over myself’, and I don’t forgive you either!”

Nai lets out a put upon sigh. “Here I was trying to let it resolve itself. Rem always told us to give the other party time after a conflict for tempers to cool and to wait for them to come to you. But I guess that, like the rest of her, her advice just wasn’t good enough.”

Vash looks away, breathing hard. If he looks at Nai now, he’s not sure what he’ll end up doing. At the very least he would punch him, and that’s not an act of the person he wants to be. 

“Don’t,” he grits out.

“Huh? Don’t what?”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Speak about Rem like that.”

Nai scoffs, “I can say whatever I want about someone like her. You need to calm down, and not let something so insignificant get between us.”

Anger leaving as suddenly as it came, Vash is left blinking back tears. Who is he kidding? Thinking even for a moment that he and Nai could be side by side again. Nai had done something unforgivable and yet he isn’t showing even the slightest sliver of hesitation or regret. Vash is desperate to feel any sort of give from Nai, but it’s like talking to a wall.

The spark of hope that they could figure this out that lived tucked away in a secret corner of his heart long—he should have crushed it long ago. Its very existence has been a betrayal to Rem and the remnants of humanity, but, selfishly, Vash held on.

But face to face once again, the stupidity and weakness of that choice has become impossible to ignore. He won’t be helping anybody by ignoring reality and staying with Nai. Spinning on his heel, Vash goes to pick up his backpack from where it rolled down the dune in his frantic sprint.

“Vash? Hey, stop it, you can’t seriously be running away again. How pathetic can you be?”

Numbly, Vash slings his bag over his shoulder. He has to leave now, before he weakens and makes things worse by trying to cram the jagged edges of two broken pieces together.

“Come on, be serious, stop it. We both know you won’t really leave, you’re too scared of being alone!”

Vash turns away from the dune he’s currently on. He can’t just retrace his steps, he needs to keep going. He picks a new dune in the distance and starts walking.

“We’re in this together, it’s just us! There’s no point to this! Running away won’t change anything.”

Vash’s feet hit the sand in a steady pattern, unwavering even as his shoulders shake. A frantic staccato of thumps across the sand come up behind him, and a hand grabs his wrist, halting his movement.

Nai gets in front of him, his smug mask shattered by rage. “I’m calling your bluff right now. I’m sick of ‘giving you space.’ Just give into the inevitable and save us both the trouble.” He’s panting, clearly working himself into a frenzy.

Vash meets his eyes, letting all of his feelings show on his face. His regret, his loneliness, his love, his resolve. 

“Move, Nai,” Vash says softly.

Nai’s face spasms. Vash watches the emotions flash across his face, almost too quickly to be parsed. Disbelief, shock, despair, pain. He doesn’t want to do this, to have his brother’s heart in his hands just to smash it. But he has no other choice. If Nai can’t even acknowledge that killing Rem was crossing a line, staying together will just rip both of them apart.

“You’re really leaving just because of one stupid comment I made about Rem? That’s all it takes for you to pick her over me, when she’s already gone and I’m right here?” Nai’s voice rises as he speaks. “After we’ve seen the worst of what humanity is willing to do to people like us, you can’t forgive me for that ?”

Vash flinches. “It’s not like that. And it’s not ‘just one stupid comment’, it’s what you did! And how you don’t even seem to care about it! Maybe not all of humanity is perfect, but Rem raised us! She loved us! If all of that meant absolutely nothing to you, then I’m not sure we ever truly knew each other at all.”

Nai lets go of Vash’s wrist as if burned. “Me? I’m the incomprehensible one? You’re the one who doesn’t make any sense. We clearly never really mattered to Rem, so why does her memory keep getting in the way?”

What? Vash shakes his head, honestly confused. “Rem cared about us more than anything. She did everything she could for us!” Vash wavers, wanting to leave it at that. He has already learned that even with Nai directly in front of him, Nai is out of his reach, their paths irrevocably diverged.

But as ever, Vash is weak, wanting what he can’t have. And he throws himself at the same hopeless walls again and again, despite how much it hurts. Looking into Nai’s eyes, so full of hurt and anger, he digs into the unspoken as another pointless reach across the chasm between them. “Rem promised she’d never let anything like—” Vash swallows and forces the next words past his lips, “like T-Tesla happen ever again. She was on our side. Killing her just makes everything worse.”

Nai flinches at the name that had become taboo between them. His hands thread through his hair, gripping tightly, as his head hangs down. Vash is about to reach out, afraid he has crossed a line, when Nai tilts his head back and laughs . The sound is awful, short painful-sounding gasps. Vash stands stricken, uncertain of what he should do, when Nai begins to catch his breath again.

Still, choking down ragged gasps, Nai looks to Vash with an awful smile. “You’re so naive, Vash. She was obviously lying.”

No way. Rem, kind, beloved Rem who would do anything for her cherished sons. “That can’t be true! You’re wrong!”

“I am, huh?” Nai starts to pace, tugging at his fringe agitatedly. “Then answer me this, why did she choose humans over us when given a chance?”

“What, no she didn’t–”

Nai rounds on him, suddenly furious. “She could have come with us, and she refused! I asked her to come, you saw it! She knew that the ship was crashing, that even if we escaped to the planet, we’d be stuck down here, alone! And what did she do? She turns around and abandons us on the off chance she could save a few worthless humans! She said she would keep us safe, but the very second that protecting us went against other humans, she picked them!

“Now you come here, and dare to ask me why I don’t consider her important? When she was the one who left us ?”

Vash is left speechless in the face of Nai’s tirade. The initial small crack in Nai’s cool facade has expanded until the last remnants of the facade crumbled away, leaving Nai wide open. Instead of his smug and remorseless brother, Vash is staring at fear, betrayal, and hurt; ugly and raw. This doesn’t solve anything. Nai’s actions are still unforgivable. And yet, the dying spark of hope in his chest surges. The wall between them can be breached.

This might be the worst decision he’s ever made, this might just hurt both of them more, but he’s not strong enough to turn away if there’s even the tiniest chance.

He reaches out to Nai, who’s still shaking from the force of his outburst, and clasps Nai’s hands in his. His own fingers are trembling, but he holds on tight.

“I’m sorry, Nai. I was wrong to say this meant nothing to you. Ever since we found out about her—” Vash internally winces, he’s trying to be more honest, but he still reflexively avoids saying ‘Tesla’ out loud, “—things have been really, really hard.”

Nai stops shaking, but remains stiff under Vash’s hands. Encouraged, Vash keeps going, knowing Nai always needs time after an emotional outburst to collect himself.

“I was also wrong to say we don’t know each other at all. I am not okay with everything you’ve done, not even close. But I haven’t really been trying to understand your side, and that’s not fair.”

Nai is finally relaxing. He averts his eyes and mumbles faux casually, “Well, you running away for over a year makes it pretty hard to talk things through, that’s true.”

Vash suppresses a flinch. Where he’s been is the last thing he wants to discuss right now. It won’t help anything. Moving past it, he continues, “We’re together now. And I want to be able to stay together, I do. But for this to work, we need to actually talk to each other, okay? I’ll try too, but I want—I need—you to work with me. I can’t do this alone.”

Embarrassed, he lowers his eyes, not wanting to see what expression Nai is making. The silence is terrifying and stretches on for eternity as he waits for Nai to respond.

“...Okay,” comes Nai’s hoarse whisper. 

The hands in his finally grip him back, just on the edge of too tight. Both of them holding on as if their grip alone can prevent their fragile truce from shattering.

Glancing back at Vash, Nai attempts to regain the smirk he’d begun this conversation with, the effect dampened by his desperate grasp on Vash’s hands. “...only because you finally admitted you were wrong about something, you stubborn jerk.”

Vash shoots back, aiming for light-hearted, “Well you better be able to admit when you’re wrong about something too, or we’re in a world of trouble.” He winces as it comes out more severely than intended.

Nai’s eyes narrow, but thankfully he also seems to not want to start another fight right now. “Well, I need to keep moving in this direction, so unless you have a pressing reason why we shouldn’t, I suggest we get going.”

Vash lets out a sheepish chuckle. “I don’t have any real plans, so that works for me.”

Nai rolls his eyes. “You never do. How you get anything done without being pointed in the right direction is beyond me. What in the world would you do without me?”

Keep going, Vash thinks. Keep moving and moving without ever daring to stop. But he only says, “As long as we find some shade to sleep in by sunsrise, I’m prepared to face anything!”

“Yes, yes, your majesty. Nothing but the best for your royal highness.” 

Together, they set off across the dunes.

The rest of the day is awkward. After the banter dwindles, an oppressive silence takes its place. Vash doesn’t dare to break the silence for fear of also breaking their fragile peace. Vash wracks his brain, but cannot come up with any safe topic. Their current circumstances, the past year apart, their shared time aboard Ship 5—each topic leads all too easily to the countless sore spots between them.

He’s mildly surprised Nai doesn’t just barrel on ahead, trampling carelessly over the sore spots. Nai’s always been the blunter one between the two of them. He remembers that time Rem was so busy that when bringing that week’s workbook, she accidentally brought a copy of the previous week’s workbook. Vash hadn’t made a fuss, not wanting Rem to feel bad, but Nai hadn’t even hesitated to complain.

It definitely caused a fair share of squabbles between the two of them, but there had been a certain relief in knowing that Nai would always just say what he meant no matter what. But it is finally starting to sink in that that isn’t true anymore. It wasn’t just the Fall, an event so big and terrible that Vash can still barely conceive of it. But also today, where Nai had hidden the depths of his feelings about Rem until Vash upset him enough to start yelling. Vash is still shaken by how much those feelings had blindsided him, used to his brother being an open book he was welcome to read.

Is Nai choosing to be silent now because he’s hiding what he’s thinking again? Or is he, like Vash, afraid that another fight will be the final straw? Not knowing the answer aches, and being too afraid to ask aches more.

If Nai is scared of Vash leaving again, there’s not much Vash can do. Remembering Nai’s face when he finally understood that Vash was actually leaving hurts. He wants to reassure Nai that he can relax, that Vash won’t leave him. But he can’t. If this doesn’t work, if this is going to break them, he needs to leave before they both shatter.

Finally, the sky begins to lighten as the moons begin to set. Nai clears his throat and gestures to the right. “And here’s an outcropping, just as requested. It should be shady enough for a good night’s sleep.”

Vash hesitates, then offers, “Don’t you mean a good day’s sleep?”

“What?” Nai turns to look at him directly for the first time since they started walking, brow furrowed.

Vash pauses, then continues determinedly forwards, not wanting to lapse back into awkward silence. “Well, we’re sleeping during the day, right? The suns are coming up, it’s daytime. So it should be good ‘day’s’ sleep, not good ‘night’s’ sleep.”

Nai stares at him for a second, before relaxing with a huff. “No, it should still be ‘night’ sleep, since I’m using ‘night’ to mean our sleeping hours, and ‘day’ to mean our waking hours. It’s more confusing to switch just because of when the suns are up.”

Vash smiles slightly, pleased to have engaged Nai on such a lighthearted topic. He counters, “You can’t just change what words mean on a whim. ‘Day’ can’t change solely based on your sleeping schedule, it should be objective!”

“There is no objective when it comes to ‘day’. Here there happens to be suns, but on Ship 5, we weren’t orbiting a planet, and so ‘day’ was based solely on the lighting cycle. Which was programmed based on our sleeping schedule. It’s better to just base it on yourself when everything outside is changeable.”

Smile faltering slightly at the mention of Ship 5, Vash stubbornly pushes onwards. “So what, you’d really be okay telling me ‘good morning’ when we met today? Even though it was at least an hour after suns set?”

“Obviously. Are you telling me you wouldn’t?”

Vash must have made a face in response because Nai takes one look and smirks. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to take this chance to say ‘good night’. Afterall, the suns will be up soon, and you should be fast asleep during the long, bright, night.”

“Argh, you’re so mean, why do I even talk to you?”

Nai’s smirk fades, and Vash winces. Why is this so hard? Does even a stupid harmless debate need to hurt so much?

“If there was ever a reason to not talk to your own twin, I wouldn’t know what it is.” Nai turns on his heel, walls up once again, and starts circling the outcropping for the best spot.

Vash breathes in, and lets the breath out slowly. They’ve barely even started, it’s too early to give up. One step at a time, he can do this. Speaking of–he fumbles with his pack, looking for his old clothes and the container of grease. Fittingly, today is the beginning of a new tally section. Carefully, he adds a new mark, proof of another step taken.

He’s just finished putting everything away when a voice snaps, “Vash, hurry up, I’ve found a cave over here.”

“Alright, I’m coming!” Vash shoulders his bag and walks towards Nai. A cave is a great find. They always provide the best sleep, being cooler and darker than just the shadows.

Once Nai is satisfied that Vash is paying proper attention, he starts to crawl into the cave, and Vash follows after him.

Inside, they wordlessly spread their cloaks side by side, Vash taking the right side without a second thought, as if they were still in their shared bedroom in Ship 5. They lie down in the dark, without speaking. Here, in the cool darkness of the cave, the silence feels simpler, less fraught with unsaid truths. The tension from the day unspools as Vash relaxes into the ground. 

Safely hidden in the dark, away from the rest of the world, Nai’s presence burns less painfully bright. Vash could almost be alone in this cave, except for the sound of Nai’s quiet breaths, already deepened into a slow and steady rhythm. How long has it been since Vash has last heard the breathing of another being? The Worms make noises, but never the comforting in and out of breath.

Suddenly needing to assure himself that Nai is really there and not just something he hallucinated out of desperation, Vash shuffles to the left until his back bumps into Nai’s. He relaxes as the warmth seeps through him.

He’s really not alone anymore. Oh, things are pretty much as far from perfect as possible. But he’s not alone. Everything he still has to deal with once he leaves the safety of the cave is still there. But Nai will be there facing it with him. It doesn’t have to be solely up to him anymore.

The connection between their backs isn’t enough anymore. Vash reaches out tentatively, trying not to wake Nai, fumbling for Nai’s hand. He is just finding Nai’s wrist, when fingers suddenly interlace with his own.

He starts, and Nai’s sleepy voice shushes him. “I’m right here, Vash. We’re together now. Sleep.”

Vash lets himself relax, curling his fingers around Nai’s in return. Tomorrow there will likely be arguments and pain. The future holds countless more problems to face. But for now, it is just the two of them lying in the dark. They’d take things as they come, one step at a time. 

Together.