Tempest Wind (Vash x F!Reader)

Uncanny Valley

As all of Vash's wounds are finally tended to, you take a step back to make sure he is still breathing. Holding your own breath, you watch for any movement, and to your relief, you see his chest rise. This is enough reassurance for you, and you are suddenly flooded with emotions. Your hands, which you had forced to be steady while tending to him, start to shake uncontrollably. You look at your bloody fingers and almost fall backward. Taking a few more steps back, you find the wall and slide to the floor. Everything you had held back is flooding through you as you start crying and break down completely. Worry, fear, relief, paranoia, sadness, happiness, guilt. All these emotions shake your body as you cry out.

Vash isn't out of the woods yet. This is just the start; the bleeding might have slowed, but it hasn't stopped completely. You don't have the supplies to stay here—not enough to take care of his wounds, and you used up the majority of the water. Your mind is going as fast as it can in the midst of the emotions. You don't dare to leave him alone.

You press your head between your legs as you keep crying helplessly. It is all too much. If only someone could tell you what is right. Vash has to pull through; you refuse any other outcome.

"Iris." Vash's soft voice reaches your ears, and you look up. You see him in the ray of sunshine as he reaches his hand out towards you, still laying on the bed. "I can hear you. Don't cry because of me."

His words aren't even registering as you stumble onto your feet again, barely able to walk. You stagger to his bedside and kneel down, taking his hand. You press the back of his hand against your forehead and squeeze it tight.

"Why are you so scared?" The quiet voice reaches you. "I thought you were brave and courageous."

Your eyes trail up, along his hand and arm. You see that he is sitting, no longer laying helplessly on the bed. He looks healed and well. There is no sign of pain or discomfort. It must have been his Plant powers—the healing factor he himself has. You don't know how it works; you've only seen him hurt once before, and then it took him a while to heal the bullet wounds. This is no time to contemplate how it happened. You are just glad he is whole again, and you spring up from the floor, throwing your arms around his neck, which forces him backwards.

"You're all better! I was so scared! You were so badly hurt!" You sob into his skin, "The wound in your stomach! It looked so bad! I was so worried for you!"

For a moment, you are left to cry like you are, awkwardly laying on top of him while hugging him as tight as you can. After some hesitation, you feel hands on either side of your waist. They don't grip you tightly; it's more like they are gently resting against you.

"Why were you worried?" you hear him ask calmly.

You would let go of him and look at him with disapproval and a hint of amusement, but you can't bring yourself to let go.

"Because I care about you, you dumb log!" Your arms squeeze tighter. "I thought I would lose you! I was scared you were going to die!"

This opens the floodgates to new tears. Your body is still in shock over everything that has happened in this short time span, and now the relief is overwhelming your whole being.

"Don't do something so idiotic again!" You sob against his neck, "I can't lose you! I care too much for you!"

"I don't understand."

"You're my friend... no... you are so much more! You are everything!" Your voice gets caught in your throat. "I don't want to see you hurt. I would take any bullet and any wound for you, not just because I will survive anything... I would do it regardless because seeing you in pain kills me."

"I see. You care."

"I do! Of course I do! You're an idiot for thinking otherwise!" Your hug tightens even further, and the hands on your waist travel to be around you, crossing on your back, and you settle in a bit more, still laying awkwardly over him.