[ meme literally from october, lol. ]
💖- A memory that made them feel special
When Vash blinks his eyes open, they feel like lead. There's a pounding in his skull something fierce, and the rest of him isn't fairing much better, either-- the whole of him pulses like one big, angry bruise, though the sensation is something he's far from unfamiliar with. Then the muscle in his arm twitches at the equally familiar feeling of the IV stuck through it, and through the ache he very quickly remembers why.
They were heading out early today, even after having only pulled into town late the night before. They've still got a lot of iles to cover in the next few days, and the folks from a couple of towns over hadn't been all that happy with them when they'd left, so it was best to try and work on that distance as much as possible and not try their luck. It's a rarity that they'd even stop so close to begin with, but Wolfwood had apparently caught sight of whatever look had supposedly been in his eyes and had unanimously decided on sleep for the both of them, and these kinds of small settlements were usually the place for that sort of thing, anyway. In the end, Vash had gone along with only the minimal amount of complaint and hesitancy, still feeling the phantom pinpricks of long-retracted feathers sharp against the nape of his neck.
So, of course, Vash had committed the sin of deciding to want breakfast and gone and ruined the whole thing. They hadn't been woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of someone after his head or any other such ruckus or worse, and stupid him who should know better than to push his luck any further than it had already gotten had done so anyway.
The next thing he knew, there was shouting outside just as he'd gotten his stack of pancakes-- quickly followed by bullets flying, and then more of them, and before he could even finish getting the earful of 'It's none of your damn business for once, idiot--!' he had already been halfway out the door.
Lots of yelling and a collapsed building and who-knows-how-much time later, he's being met with the muffled sounds of nurses shuffling around outside and the scratchy feeling of a hospital blanket against his skin.
Vash groans quietly as he sits himself up-- and is surprised, then, when in the room itself there is no other noise or person. He'd been expecting to get yet another tongue-lashing. Supposed, then, that either Wolfwood had gone out- or been kicked out, likely- for a smoke, leaving Vash temporarily scot-free.
What he is met with, though, is the smell of pancakes. His stomach lurches all at once, as though remembering his woefully neglected breakfast, before he catches sight of the to-go container left on the table next to him. The grin on his face as he pops it open nearly splits it in two, and the first bite is sweeter than it had probably ever been intended to be.
