Tempest Wind (Vash x F!Reader)

Storm Clouds

Warning: Mention of suicide at the end of the chapter!

Vash is getting increasingly worried. It gets harder and harder for him to convince himself that you are alright, that soon things will get better. The touch of hope of the voices quieting down occasionally has also been blown away by the wind. It's a strange situation to be in; he has grown so close to you, and the moments you are fully with him are the happiest he has had in a very long time. You understand each other perfectly; your banter and your touch are heaven to him. In those moments, he is almost capable of believing that things will stay that way. He wants to see you smile and laugh, your carefree and kind eyes looking into his, and your warm body against him in a hug. But those are fleeting moments, quickly replaced by apathy and a distant stare if you are left to your thoughts for a moment too long. Most of your time you spend like this—a shell of yourself, nothing but a shadow of your being. You react so slowly to his voice and touch that it gets harder and harder to get your attention. He feels like you're sand seeping through between his fingers.

You seem sickly now. What started as your headaches have gotten worse. For someone who can heal any wound in hours, your skin has gotten an ashy, almost grayish hue underneath it, your beautiful eyes seem sunken in, and you seem weak and hunched over as you ride your tomas. But every time he tries to check in on you, he is met with a blank stare, like you don't understand what he's talking about. Only once has he heard you complain a little about feeling unwell, but things have gotten worse since then. It's not just your physical appearance that seems to suffer; it's your memory too. Often, he has caught you being forgetful, leaving items behind that you would never have before. You mix up names and places, often talking like you're somewhere else. He remembers Varmint's Hill so vividly. After the two of you had stopped the bank robbery, you were dragged into the celebrations, and Vash had been so happy to see you mingling with the townsfolk. It looked like you're turning a new leaf when it comes to your feelings towards humanity, but even so, he wasn't surprised to find that you had disappeared from the saloon. He found you on top of the roof, looking out. He talked to you, and you seemed completely there with him, not shut off like he often saw you, but still, you had called this place Squinny Coffin, a town you had left weeks ago. At the time, he had just brushed it off as a slip of the tongue, but as time went by, he wasn't so sure anymore.

He watches over your sleeping form; this too is very unusual since you have always refused to sleep in the desert, insisting that you keep watch as Vash sleeps. Very rarely has he been able to convince you to sleep while he is on the lookout, but on a number of occasions in the past few weeks, you have fallen asleep in his arms. He thinks back on one of the times you unexpectedly nodded off and how shaken you were by it. You had explained that sleeping is a choice you have to make knowingly; your body doesn't just doze off. But now it has become common. At first, he wasn't sure since he had the habit of kissing your forehead or cheek when he woke, or even when he didn't do that, the change in his breathing seemed to be enough to stir you. But now you just sleep, not waking up easily at all.

Vash realizes that whatever is going on in your head must be putting an incredible amount of strain on your body for you to be like this. You had explained to him how your body seems to be working—that it produces constantly enough energy to keep you going without getting tired—but lately that's all he sees: tiredness.

So many times has he tried to get to the bottom of things, but each time you either brush him off with an excuse, not react at all, or look at him with confusion, not sure what he is talking about. And like clockwork, every time he is about to lose his mind over the whole ordeal, there comes a day where you are completely lucid, smiling and laughing, and acting like nothing is wrong. On those days, you are especially likely to brush him off, saying that you feel fine and complaining that you just want to enjoy your moment of peace from the voices.