"Ghost" Trigun x reader

Parting is such sweet sorrow

You made a small cry as the blond criminal fell back unto his knee, the blood spilling from his arm joining the one from his abdomen on the floor.

The older sibling shifted his hand again, blades spinning in mid-air to point their edge at a slightly swaying Vash, his face drawn and white from fighting against the limitations of his wounds.

You clenched your fists, heart beat pumping with your flaring headache. No matter if he had been lying, even if had played you all along, you still didn't want to see this man get hurt. Even if his words and affection had been faked, you still knew for sure his love for humanity was realer, more concrete than you and your ghost form could ever be.

The lump in your throat rose once again, making your lips quiver as you held it in. Maybe he had fooled you, lead you on, but he had always done so in such a gentle way. He had made your existence more than just a mirage, he had let you experience emotions and a closeness your soul had long since before abandoned the hope to live.

He had made you feel alive. And for that you would always be grateful to him.

Your eyes darted to the place you had spotted a familiar object earlier, and to your relief you confirmed it was indeed the tip of the priest's cross as well as the priest himself hiding not far behind Vash. You made eye-contact with him, for once able to look directly in his eyes no longer covered by his usual sunglasses. His expression was tense, and yet, when he looked at you, you saw the deep worry he held him them as he kept glancing at the wounded criminal.

The corners of your lips rose almost imperceptibly with the realization that you were not leaving the gentle outlaw alone out here, and that Wolfwood would make sure he would make it out alive no matter what you did.

And with that comforting thought, you turned your head to Knives.

It was time to repay Vash's kindness.

'I will only come willingly if you leave the town and the plants alone,' you spoke with the best composed voice you could manage, straightening your back and taking a deep breath.

The platinum blond man went to look at you, his anger still palpable behind his pale traits.

'I think you're quite confused, Thess; you are in no position to bargain,' his voice was just as sharp and cold as his blades, making every muscle in your body flex when a fight or flight instinct took over. 'If you do not come of your own volution, I will have Bluesummers or myself drag you back. Chose wisely.'

'Luck, you're not-!'

Vash's words were cut short when he had to block a flying knife heading for him. Knives was running out of patience, you could tell by his deepening frown and clenching jaw.

'I know,' you resumed, trying to keep Knives' glacial glare on you. 'But I also know that my efficiency and output depend on my willingness, my cooperation,' you paused, letting the threat in your words weight heavy. 'If you force me back, I promise I'll never agree to help in any way, I'll always resist; you'll have to tear it out of me every single time, Knives.'

The anger the cloaked man had been repressing raged anew, menacing to spill over when you sensed murderous intent in his crystal eyes. You must have lost your mind somewhere along this journey, you absent-mindedly thought, your hair raising on the back of your neck.

Still, your words held truth. From the devastating memories that have been plaguing you with their return in the last week, you now knew what was expected of you once back at Knives' side. And, even if you had no recollecting of ever standing up to him, even less threaten or try to negotiate with him, you no longer had anything to lose or any expectations. All you wished was to repay you debt to the blond outlaw before your existence was extinguished again, one way or another.