#also palistrom wolf and plant friends

[xinghai]

Post-finale Hunter is teleported to the trigun universe and is found by tristamp vash.

Hunter – Autistic, he/they (trans, genderqueer), Demisexual, PTSD, dating lesbian Willow

Vash – Can understand palisman, PTSD, chronic pain, lover of men, dating Wolfwood

I completely forgot I drafted this post TOH finale. Didn’t feel like editing it, but it’s fun so wanted to throw it out here!

“Willow! Darius! Ebberwolf!”

Hunter’s voice echoes across the golden dunes. They seem endless, and his words are quickly swallowed by the sands. He squints, trying to keep the grains of sand out his eyes. This place is nothing like the boiling isles. A lump forms in his throat, and he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Waffles!”

The wind whistles back, empty and unforgiving. His chest tightens, voice cracking from the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that he hadn’t experienced since he lost Flapjack.

“Luz?”

Sweat beads on his brow, and he sinks to his knees. He doesn’t know how long he’s been searching for the others. His throat is painfully dry, and his vision is starting to blur. He hates the feeling of the sand brushing against his hands, and he desperately wishes he had his gloves. He wants to be back in his workshop. Back home.

“This way?”

He tenses at the unfamiliar voice, his years of training to be the golden guard kicking in. He forces himself to his feet and reaches reflexively for his staff. His hands grasp empty air, and he remembers that Waffles is nowhere to be seen. His heart sinks, and his hand hovers over his chest. He takes a shaky breath.

“Just you and me Flap.”

A familiar chirp shakes him from his thoughts. His head snaps up, and through the golden haze of sand, he sees a spot of red. Tears brim in his eyes, and his grip on his apron tightens.

“Flapjack?”

Relief overcomes him, and his legs finally give out. He falls to the ground, and the last thing he remembers is the heat of the sand against his face.

————————

Hunter wakes up to his hair being pulled- violently. He bolts upright from the pain.

“Ow ow ow!”

The pain abates as his hair is released. He remembers the flash of red. He looks up, smiling tearfully.

“Flapjack, I’m so glad-“

He stops when he sees the familiar bluejay, one that he’d carved himself.

“Waffles?”

Waffles chirps in reply, head tilted in concern. Her little voice is completely different from Flapjack’s. How could he have mixed them up?

His tears start falling in earnest at the memory of his first friend. They aren’t the tears of joy from an unexpected, impossible reunion but of a grief that had gripped him again and again over the years. Anger flares up in his chest, not at Waffles, but at himself for mixing her up with Flapjack. She didn’t deserve that. His expression crumples and hiccupping sobs shake his chest.

“I’m sorry Waffles. I just miss Flap so much- I-“

Each word is painful, violently torn from his chest. He buries his head in his knees. Waffles chirps and presses her soft, feathery cheek against his hair. He’d learned to understand the palisman more over the years. He understands the words as well as he had Flapjack’s. Waffle’s words are forgiving and gentle. Hunter strokes her feathers, whimpering as he speaks.

“I’m not the golden guard anymore. Belos is gone. Things should be better,” he grits his teeth, “So why does it still hurt so much?”

The creak of wood snaps him away from his grief. He leaps up, staff already in hand, and points it towards the sound. Standing in the doorway is a man with spiky blonde hair and a red coat. The man’s bright red coat gives Hunter pause, but he doesn’t lower his staff.

“Who are you?”

His voice is hard and authoritative. The mask still came up automatically, even after all these years.

The man’s expression of surprise quickly melts into a disarming smile, and he throws his hands up in the air.

“Sorry sorry! I didn’t realize you were awake. I’m so glad you’re okay. Your friend brought me to you.”

The man looks around the room, brow furrowed. “Oh, did she fly off already? She wouldn’t leave your side the whole way here.”

Hunter glances at Waffles. He lowers the staff slightly.

“You helped me.”

The blonde man grins sheepishly.

“Well, I couldn’t just leave you facedown in the sand. Especially when the little one was so worried about you.”

Hunter exhales and relaxes his grip on the staff. Hunter glances away. He’s acutely aware of the tears that still stain his cheeks and the concerned expression on the man’s face.

“Sorry. I can be a little irritable. When I’m overwhelmed. I’m trying to learn.”

The blonde man shakes his head. “It’s okay, I can tell you’re going through a lot right now.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Vash. Vash the Stampede.”

Hunter looks at his hand. The thought of someone touching him right now makes his skin prickle. He glances away.

“Hunter. Hunter Deamonne Noceda.”

Waffles flutters onto his shoulder, looking between the two men curiously. Vash puts down his and and watches wide-eyed as the staff turns into a living, breathing bird. Hunter scritches the blue jay underneath her chin. “And this is Waffles.”

Vash grins.

“This little one isn’t like any Worm I’ve ever seen. She’s more like.. a Plant?”

Hunter furrows his brow. “Of course she isn’t a worm. Although I’ve carved some of those too.” He glances at Waffles. “She’s made of palistrom wood, so I guess she’s technically a plant?”

Vash nods, seemingly perfectly happy to accept this explanation from a total stranger. It reminds Hunter of Luz.

His eyes widen, and he leans forward.

“Did you find anyone else? A human with brown hair, or a black witch who really loves human stuff, or a purple-haired witch, or a green-haired one that’s kind of super cute and loves plants?”

Hunter blushes as he says the last part. The words scrape his dry throat, but he’s desperate to know what happened to the others.

Vash crosses his arms. “Hmm, brown-haired human maybe, but I haven’t seen a witch. You were alone in the desert other than little Waffles there.”

Hunter’s heart sinks. “Do you know how I can get back to the Boiling Isles? I have to make sure they’re okay!”

Vash looks the kid over. He has to be around 20 or so. He’s not dressed for the desert. Vash speaks slowly, not wanting to scare Hunter.

“I’ve never heard of the Boiling Isles, but I’ll help you find your way back to your friends. I promise. But first, let’s get you something to eat and drink.”

With those words, Hunter realizes just how hungry and thirsty he is. He swallows and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t have time for that. They could be in danger, or, or-“

He stops as Vash puts a hand on his shoulder. When Hunter stiffens, Vash immediately lets go and takes a step back.

The blonde man smiles apologetically at him. There is unbridled kindness in his eyes, one that softens his gaze.

“No matter how heavy a cross you bear, it’s okay to eat – it’s okay to laugh. One of my friends said that once. No matter how hard things are, I’m here to help you.”

Hunter stares up at him, then says, “You really are a lot like Luz.”

Vash grins and straightens up. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now let’s eat!”

————————

“Okay, so the Boiling Isles are located on the body of the Titan… And they were filled with wild magic until the last Titan died. But his kid, King, is starting to make magic, which will let people use glyphs again.”

Vash fits the words in between bites of food. Hunter finishes another glass of water and nods, dead serious. “Right.”

Vash’s brow furrows. “Can you do magic here then? I don’t know where the Boiling Isles are, but we definitely don’t have magic here.”

Hunter frowns. “I… actually hadn’t thought about that.”

Vash smiles. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

Hunter nods and closes his eyes.

You’re still there, right Flap?

Hunter takes a deep breath and leaps onto the table in a flash of yellow light. Vash blinks. He hadn’t even see the kid move. One moment he was sitting, the next he was standing on the table. For someone to move so fast that he couldn’t even see them…

“Huh, you really do have magic.”

The people in the bar look at them. Hunter blushes and sits back down. “Yeah, looks like it.”

Waffles twitters indignantly. Hunter opens his mouth to translate, but, as he does, Vash blinks and looks at her. “Oh, you have magic too?”

Hunter stares at him, stunned. “You understand her?”

Vash nods and chuckles. “Must be the magic huh? I’ve never met a talking bird before!”

Hunter is silent for a moment. “You’re not human, are you?”

At those words, Vash’s smile freezes on his face. Hunter doesn’t notice and continues,

“Even most witches can’t understand them. ”

Vash finds his voice again and asks, “How are you able to?”

Hunter falls silent again. Conversations flow around them, rowdy and gruff like most that live in such a harsh world. Hunter holds the cool glass of water between his hands, focusing on the feeling. Finally, he says,

“I’m a grimwalker. Or used to be? I’m not really sure.”

He thumbs over the patches that he’d sewn onto his apron to remind him of his friends. Abominations for Amity. The logo of the Emerald Entrails for Willow. Gus’ mirror. They’d all supported him when they learned what he was. It was still hard to unmask around other people. But somehow, he felt safe with Vash.

He takes a deep breath and opens three fingers underneath the table. Hold it… then exhale. The air whistles through the gap in his teeth as he lets it out. He forgets to make eye contact, but Vash doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s something that’s neither human or witch. I read about the- ingredients. Once. Multiple times. One of them is palistrom wood.” He scratches Waffles on the cheek. “Maybe cause of that, I can understand these guys.”

Waffles looks at Vash, head tilted, and then chirps at Hunter. Hunter looks at her.

“Huh? Oh he’s-“

Hunter glances at Vash. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s not bad to not be human! I was just surprised. I’ve never met anyone else who can understand them. It’s… nice.”

He bounces his leg as he thinks. He’s not good at comforting people. Never has been. But he doesn’t want to upset someone who has been so kind to him.

“I was scared too, but my friends still supported me. I always thought I was just what Belos made me to be.” The admission makes Hunter feel sick. Waffles preens his hair, smoothing out the strand that she’d tugged on earlier. Hunter’s hand moves to the tattoo of Flapjack on his arm.

“But someone important taught me differently. They helped me find myself. Who I wanted to be. Not who he thought I was.”

Vash’s cheerful demeanor is completely gone. He looks at the kid in front of him and wonders just how much he’s gone through at such a young age. He looks over Hunter’s scars: on his face, his neck, his arms, the nick in his ear, his crooked nose, the gap in his teeth. He’s reminded of his own, yet somehow he knows that they’ve received those scars under vastly different circumstances.

“The ticket to your future is blank.”

The words come without Vash even thinking about it. Hunter raises an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

Vash smiles.

“Someone important told me that. It means that, no matter what has happened in the past, your future is never set.”

Waffles chirps in agreement, and, finally, Hunter smiles.

“I like that.”

“Vash the Stampede!!”

A harsh voice cuts through the familiar cadence of the bar conversation. Both of their eyes widen, and Vash dives across the table towards Hunter.

“Get down!!”

Gunfire explodes through the bar, shredding tables and shattering windows. Screams fill the air as glass and bullets rain down on the bar’s patrons. Vash squints towards the door, waiting for pain to arc through him. He hadn’t been ready, but at least the kid was safe. He waits, but no pain comes. Pains and aches from old wounds, sure. But it’s nothing like the searing fire of a fresh wound. As the dust settles, he sees why.

Hunter has his staff raised in front of both of them. A field of yellow magical energy holds off the wall of bullets, which clink to the ground. There’s a determined furrow to his brow. Then the shield dissipates, and his expression changes to one of bewilderment.

“Oh Titan, this is just like Cosmic Frontier. But with cowboys?”

Vash doesn’t have time to reply before another round of gunfire rains on the bar. He grabs Hunter and drags them both to the side.

A man yells over the gunfire,

“We’ll get you for what you did at Jenora Rock Humanoid Typhoon!”

Hunter snaps back into the situation and sweeps some of the bullets aside.

“What are they talking about?!”

Vash blocks a couple shots with his prosthetic arm and loads his gun.

“No time to explain, we need to get out of here!”

“We have you surrounded Humanoid Typhoon! You’re not getting away this time.”

A chorus of cheers and sneers rises around the bar.

Vash glances around the bar. There had to be a way out. There had to be. He’d promised Hunter that he would help him find his friends.

“Damn it!”

He turns to Hunter.

“Hunter, I’m going to run out and distract them. They want me. You get out of here, find your friends!”

Hunter grabs Vash’s sleeve.

“What are you saying?! They’ll kill you!”

Vash grins.

“I’ll be fine! This is a normal day for me.”

He ruffles Hunter’s hair and smiles sadly.

“It was fun meeting you kid.”

Vash sheathes his gun and moves towards the door.

“Alright, I’m coming out! No need to shoot!”

As he’s about to leave cover, there’s a burst of pain as something pulls him back by the front strands of his spiky hair.

“Ow ow ow!”

Waffles chirps, and Hunter grabs Vash. There’s a sudden feeling of weightlessness, and the bar shifts around them, giving way to open blue skies.

From below, someone shouts, “Where did he go?!”

Hunter looks down on the crowd of gun-toting bounty hunters and sticks his tongue out at them. They teleport to another rooftop, then another. Soon enough, they’re tucked into an old bell tower. Both are breathing heavily. Hunter slides down against the wall. Anger flares up in his chest despite his exhaustion.

“Are you crazy?! Those guys were going to kill you!”

Vash chuckles and scratches the back of his neck.

“At least that way none of you would get hurt. Thank you for the save though.”

Hunter doesn’t know what to do with all the emotions bursting inside of his chest. He grabs Vash by his coat. The red color brings tears to Hunter’s eyes.

“Who would have found me in the desert if you had died?! I don’t know you well, but I know you’ve helped so many people just like Luz. Like Flap helped me. People would miss you if you disappeared!”

Vash stares at Hunter, stunned, then looks over the town. The wind whistles by them, tilting the weathered bell ever so slightly. Finally, he speaks.

“You were right earlier. I’m not human.”

Hunter’s anger dissipates all at once, and he lets go of Vash’s coat.

“Huh?”

Vash watches the people running below. They look so small from up here.

“I’ve brought them a lot of trouble. I’ve caused the deaths of their loved ones. It’s because of me that they’re trapped here. It’s because of me that they have to harden themselves to survive.”

His coat billows in the dry wind. It reminds Hunter of the flutter of Flapjack’s wings.

“I can never atone for that.”

There is a deep sadness in his expression, one that weighs heavily in Hunter’s chest. Hunter stares at Vash, then says,

“The ticket to your future is blank.”

Vash’s eyes widen, and he looks at Hunter. Hunter’s face scrunches up.

“Or- er something like that?”

He clears his throat. “You said it yourself. You choose what the future holds. We’ll always carry the past with us, both the good and the bad.” Hunter places a hand over his chest. “But we can’t let the bad parts control us.”

Vash’s eyes widen, and he smiles. It’s not the empty smile he usually fakes but one that holds genuine warmth.

“Thank you.”

He stands up and holds out his hand to Hunter.

“Let’s get out of here. We need to find your friends.”

Hunter smiles and takes Vash’s hand.