Self Hatred in Physical Form
The last thing Nicholas expected was to suddenly be grabbed by the throat (again) and slammed against the nearest wall, choking as his older self’s grip cut off his air.
“You.” Wolfwood snarled. “You brat... Do you have ANY idea what you caused?!” He gave the undertaker a shake. “You handed your Vash over to Knives, didn’t you? In July?! You’re fuckin’ lucky it wasn’t mine, but even then you nearly got Punk KILLED by the thing Knives turned him into!”
“It-... H-he wanted...” Nicholas gasped, trying to pull the hands away. “D-didn’t wanna... be his-...” The pulling turned to frantic clawing as the priest’s grip tightened further.
“You ‘didn’t want’. Nobody’s given a DAMN ‘bout what we ‘want’, so drop the selfish attitude an’ get used to it! If you’d jus’ DONE WHAT YOU WERE FUCKIN’ TOLD, NONE OF THIS WOULDA HAPPENED!” The priest was seething, nearly seeing red as everything from the last few weeks came boiling back to the surface. Punk nearly dying. Vet severely injured from July. Livio leaving. Vash leaving. The entire July disaster.
“Livio’s GONE! Vash ran off after nearly bein’ KILLED havin’ to save your sorry ass because you were too much of a fuckin’ SELFISH, SPOILED BRAT to jus’ OBEY!” He wasn’t looking at another young man. He held himself by the throat; all his mistakes, everything he hated himself for, dangling at the end of his hand like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. It only served to fuel the anger in him.
“I know what you are. You’re nothin’ but a wild animal, I could tell the moment I saw you!” He remembered when he’d had those eyes, how dangerous he’d been. Looks like he was right to be wary.
“Punk. Vet. Livio. Your Vash. Your Livio. Even Finn! How many more people are you gonna hurt before it goes through your thick head?!” Wolfwood snarled and tightened his grip on the squirming undertaker again as it boiled over.
“WAS YOUR LIVIO SHOOTIN’ HIMSELF BECAUSE OF YOU NOT ENOUGH?!”
Silence fell between them.
Nicholas’ struggles ceased, the words his other self spat cutting into him harshly, but that last one shattered something in him. He could still see it in his head, at night in his dreams. Livio. The gun to his head. The shot fired, and his limp body falling over the edge of the steamer. He hadn’t even been able to go back and get him.
His hands fell from Wolfwood’s wrist, limply at his sides, allowing himself to be choked. He was right. It had all been in his head this whole time, but to hear someone else voice it out loud...
Wolfwood released him as the smaller form slid to the ground, anger and disgust still simmering in his veins.
“You’re a sacrifice to keep those kids safe. We both know it. So ACT like it.” Before he could be tempted to finish off the physical manifestation of his self-loathing, Wolfwood turned on his heel, leaving the younger where he’d fallen.
“This is your last warning. Act like a rabid dog, hurt my people again, an’ I’ll put you down like one.”