Autism Moment TM

“Wolfwood?" Meryl questions, when he sinks deep into the cushions instead of continuing their game. 

“It’s fine, let's just watch your thing," he says, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?" She scoots up to him, pulling up sleeve to see if she'd left a mark. He wouldn't mind if she had –

Wolfwood brushes her off, tamping down wherever that had come from. “No. I'm fine. Just a little tired." 

Meryl gives him a long, hard look under which he wills the couch to swallow him whole, but doesn't say anything more before retreating to her side. Without comment, she turns on the action movie and his heart swells at her thoughtfulness. 

Vash joins them a minute later, with a bit of questioning look, but thankfully doesn't ask anything directly. So they settle in and watch the movie Wolfwood barely pays attention to.

Instead, he is mentally lining up all the times the wolf has felt pleased or close to the surface around these two lately. And feels like a fool when the evidence keeps piling up. 

From easy joy while playfighting to being pleased when they eat meals he's provided, to bone deep peace when they're piled together on the floor or bed, to some primal contentment when Meryl borrows his jacket and smells like his cologne for the rest of the evening. He'd thought he dealt with his wolf side better lately, but his life has been placating it the whole time, soothing away the aching loneliness that set his teeth on edge since Livio left.

When Vash rests head on his shoulder, Wolfwood ends up asking himself if it's such a bad thing. It has to be: it is lowering his guard and he'd nearly tussled with Meryl as if she was his match in strength, the wary side of him insists. 

But it feels nice to feel like he's home. Like he belongs. Like he has more family than a man on the other side of the country. He has been more at peace than in ages, maybe ever. 

It's just that he doesn't know how to be happy without being afraid of it. At any moment, he could crush it like a dainty porcelain teacup in monstrous claws, merely by existing. Meryl could - should - turn away and leave if she ever learned what he is, how long he's lied to her. A thousand things can go wrong. And probably will. They always have.

After the movie, he retreats to his room, followed by concerned gazes. He hates that they worry, that he isn't good enough at hiding it. 

Next morning, he is greeted by cheery Vash and his favorite breakfast waiting for him and it burrows deep into his chest. Meryl runs through and he feels like sealing her laugh over some blond’s joke in a little box for safekeeping, though it's now such a familiar sound. But everything about his mates is important and always will be.

He is distracted the whole work day and comes home late. After mulling it over for an hour, he calls the only person who could understand - Livio.

“I think I have packbonded with Meryl and Vash," he starts without preamble.

“Oh? Just that?" His brother doesn't sound surprised at all, but he sure as hell is confusing.

“What do you mean?”

"Nevermind! Congratulations. I think. What do people say in cases like these?”

"Fuck if I know. What do I do now? I feel like I'll slip up, feeling safe and comfortable around them in that way. Vash already knows, but Meryl… Besides, they didn't ask for this.”

"I really don't think they'd mind if they knew. They're your best friends and housemates. Against all odds, they like you." There's way too much emphasis on ‘like’, but Wolfwood decides not to comment on it.

“What if I hurt Meryl? With the truth or because some fucked part of me thinks she's fellow wolf?” He's been thinking of that all too much for the past day. The picture painted in his mind is grotesque.

"I mean, it's not an ideal situation, but I think you're more careful and she's sturdier than you think. Besides, you had the same concerns about living together and it's been fine." He has a point, but this feels like an unexpected aspect of that worry that makes it more tangible. Still, they've gotten through half a year now…

There's another matter that weighs on Wolfwood's mind. He shifts uncomfortably, even though the other man can't see it. Out with it. “It isn't… I'm not replacing you,” he says because he needs Livio to know they'll always be brothers and there's a void in his life all the same. 

"I know, stupid,” the other man says with a chuckle. "Anyway, you got this. How's that last case you told me about coming along?" They chat for a bit more about other current topics of their lives, before hanging up. 

Wolfwood flops back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Livio’s confidence in him is somewhat reassuring because they aren't in the habit of coddling each other where the wolf is concerned. And aside from removing himself from their presence, Wolfwood can't think of a solution anyway.

He doesn't want to, though. There's a swell of unease and unhappiness at the mere thought of it. It's familiar in some ways, like whenever he thinks of how far Livio is, but there's a strange edge to it. A different sort of heartache. To think there'd be no more cozy nights together, no shared laughter, no keeping them safe and coming back to a house that smelled like them, like home, no one to bake for, no… His life has become so entwined with theirs that he cannot picture anything whole without them in it.

And it scares him.

Deeply so.

So, he draws back a little over the next week, citing work as the reason for leaving early and coming back late. Observes himself closely where Vash and Meryl are concerned.

Now that he knows, he feels hyper aware of the signs he noticed before and then some other things, like wanting to kiss the two of them in a greeting. Though he's never wanted to do the tongue in your mouth hi outside of wolf form before, so it's still a little bizarre. (And he refuses to think that he thinks of kissing them frequently at other times as well, how long the thought has flitted through his mind only for him to bat it away with force even before it fully registered.) 

More than anything, Wolfwood misses them, even if the distance is self imposed. It adds to the fear, because he's never got to keep anything he's wanted and his own truths are what could separate them. He feels himself winding tighter with each day as these thoughts simmer.

It must be this stress and season change that gets him with a cold, when he rarely, if ever, gets sick. He sniffles through work on Friday and wakes with fever on Saturday. He plans to simply sleep it off, but an hour after breakfast there's a knock on the door.

“Are you okay?" Vash asks. It’s not the first time Wolfwood has slept in late, so it really shouldn't be a big deal. It’s like Vash has some third sense for when something’s wrong - not that anything is wrong, he’s fine. Come to think of it, Vash probably does. 

"I'm fine,” he insists and is immediately betrayed by a massive sneeze. 

“That doesn't sound fine." The concern in Vash's voice makes him want to burrow deeper into the bed.

“Nothing I can't get over with some sleep." Wolfwood thinks he has managed to sound pretty convincing.

Not good enough for Vash. “And no food?" 

“I'll stop by the kitchen later." He will. Probably.

“No need, I will bring you some.”

"Wait, no, Vash-” but the man is already gone.

He returns in a short while, though Wolfwood manages to slip into a feverish nap in the meantime, with a plate of sandwiches and a cup of hot tea with honey.

"Meryl's going to make soup for later, this is what we had on hand," Vash sounds apologetic and Woofwood waves him off.

“You didn't have to, I'm not hungry anyway." 

“Well, I wanted to," he says and Woofwood’s heart does a weird thing in his chest, “and that's the cold talking. You have to eat." 

They argue back and forth about it, but eventually he concedes and eats a little as Vash tells him silly stories from the internet. In a short while, Meryl stops by to check on him and immediately clocks his fever, practically flies off to fetch some meds which he loathes to take, to get more woozier. Vash even insists on helping him change out of his sweaty shirt, which makes him flush with more than fever and hide beneath the blankets afterwards.  

Between all that, Wolfwood feels utterly fussed over, which comes with a mix of emotions. Part of him wants to insist he's fine and can handle himself, like his life depends on it. Because it has. That part wants to growl and push caring hands away.

And then there's an increasingly loud voice that wants to sink into the provided comfort, let his mates take care of him. Nuzzle into Vash's palm, melt under Meryl's attention.

Neither truly wins, though he is a bit abrasive and tells both Meryl and Vash to leave him be when they take turns by his bedside. He's not dying, for fuck’s sake. (Even if he can't remember the last time he's felt this shitty outside of shifts.) And the last thing they need is to catch the bug from him. Both of them are not deterred in the slightest and as the day progresses, Wolfwood is running out of steam to fight them on everything.

So, when Meryl insists she's going to spend the night in his room, he just groans in defeat. After dinner, they watch some shows he's barely paying attention to on her laptop, but the distraction is welcome nonetheless. He's just going to close his eyes for a moment …

He wakes up to a quiet room, feeling like everything is a little fuzzy, but not outright sick. Something prickles at his senses, though, and he pursues the feeling out into the living room which is equally quiet. And tidy. Even Meryl's throw blanket they often cuddle beneath is gone.

In the corridor, by the door there are only his shoes. So they must have gone out, surely. Batting away the unease, he goes to have a drink in the kitchen where the cupboard gives him a pause. It's mostly empty, no sign of Meryl's or Vash's cups.

He doesn't find anything belonging to them in the entire kitchen and by the end of the search, he's grown frantic. With dread filling his chest, Wolfwood goes to Vash's room and nudges the door open, freezing on the threshold.

The room is blank and empty, like it's never been lived in. Even his scent is gone. Wolfwood throws open Meryl's door as well to the same view.

He doesn't collapse, but it's a near thing as he leans against the wall. It feels like pieces of him have gone missing, vanished. He feels small and incomplete, collapsing in on himself without the support of their parts. A choked sob escapes him. Everything is wrong, everything is -

Wolfwood wakes up with a start, heart racing and eyes blurry. The nightmare is melting away by the second, but the devastating loneliness lingers. 

“Wolfwood?" Meryl's voice is sleepy as she leans into his view and the relief of seeing her face makes him whimper.

“Wolfwood- Nico, what's wrong?" she asks when he grabs a hold of her hand and clutches it tightly. She rarely calls him that, as if she thinks it is too familiar or reserved for Livio, but he wouldn't really mind. Now, he feels comforted by it.

He pulls her closer, before stopping himself as his senses return more. But Meryl is already shuffling onto the bed, pulling him half in her lap. 

“It was just a nightmare," she soothes, brushing damp hair away from his forehead and he gives into the comfort, pressing closer to her still, inhaling her scent and taking in how warm she is, because he is freezing.

It takes him a bit more to fully calm down, which he will be embarrassed about later, in the morning, all the while as she holds him. Eventually, though, he pulls away quite abruptly and Meryl lets him with a final comforting brush of hand down his arm.

"I will get you some water and medicine,” she says, slipping out of the bed and the room. He has to bite back a small noise, because part of him still doesn't want her out of his sight like she might not come back. Wolfwood rubs hands over his face and shivers, lighting up a cigarette to soothe his nerves further. 

It doesn't take long for her to return, thankfully, and he takes the pills and scolding for smoking in bed without complaint. They settle back down, but sleep eludes him.

"Isn't it uncomfortable? Noddin’ off in the chair?” he asks in a bit and Meryl shrugs at him. 

"It's not too bad," she reassures and Wolfwood frowns, before shuffling to one side and patting the bed. 

"Come here. Might as well, can’t catch the bug from me more than you might already have.”

“I'll be fine and if not, you and Vash will help me out," she waves him off with such trust that his heart does a weird little lurch. "Are you sure?” Meryl gestures at the bed.

"Won't be the first time we sleep in the same bed," Wolfwood tells her, trying not to think about it too much, and she doesn't argue further, climbing beneath the blankets. The last tension in his body seeps out with a sigh as she nestles in next to him.

Meryl's hand squeezes his shoulder gently and then stays there. Her breathing evens out soon enough, exhaustion from the day catching up and it kills him to, thankfully dreamlessly, sleep as well.

He wakes up all too warm, hair tickling his nose. It takes Wolfwood a moment to orient himself, wrapped around Meryl's curled up form, but when he does, he stills so as not to wake her up with his shifting. She's had an uncomfortable night and needs the rest.

As they lay there, his arm thrown over her, he thinks back to the nightmare. On the nose and overly dramatic, but there's a part, loud and insistent, of him that knows his hurt would run deep if Vash and Meryl truly left him. And maybe it's selfish, maybe it's the only logical path, but he doesn't want to go through that. Even if keeping them close risks a separation down the lane, he'd rather take the chance than cut them out preemptively. He now knows that for sure.

A suppressed sneeze shakes him and Meryl stirs awake. She blinks at him sleepily before smiling. She looks so warm and content, so close, that once again the thought of kissing her flies through Wolfwood's mind. He rolls away from her, stretches. 

“How are you feeling?" she asks, running hand up his back. 

Wolfwood has to think about it for a moment, but then he can genuinely tell her that he is doing much better. The sneeze seems like the last dregs of illness lingering. 

"That's great, I'm so glad. But you should rest up for the day,” Meryl insists, getting up from the bed. He groans in response because that sounds like torture.

He has enough energy to body her out of the room so he can change and joins her for late breakfast after. Vash is delighted to see them, though he, too, tries to insist Wolfwood goes back to bed. They compromise with him spending most of the day on the couch in their company with the TV on. By the evening, even the sneezes are gone. Benefits of not being quite human. It's a wonder he got sick in the first place.

And just like that, things fall back into their usual rhythm. In a week's time he manages to stop being hyper-aware of everything the wolf thinks when it comes to having pack members and all the turmoil feels somewhat pointless.

It comes full circle one night when they end up fighting for the remote again without Vash mediating. Meryl tries to tickle him, but he wiggles out of it, pushing her away, but she bites the arm holding her at length. He doesn't have time to think before he's pounced on her, wrestling her to the couch, lightly biting the hand that gets pushed in his face. He freezes and drops her hand, but Meryl seems unfazed, kicking at him and then slipping out from between his arms while he's still unmoving.

“Children, fighting without me?" Vash says behind him and he has only the clink of plates being set down as warning before Vash launches himself at Wolfwood and they tumble down on the floor at Meryl's feet.

"I ain’t got the remote!” Wolfwood exclaims, trying to wrestle Vash off. The other man is deceptively strong and he knows Vash isn't even giving it his all.

"Who said this is about the remote? I just want some fun, too!" 

Wolfwood manages to flip them and pin Vash down. The man beneath him is breathing a little heavy, eyes bright. He's suddenly sharply aware of their proximity and only vaguely aware of Meryl settling on the couch and turning on her programme. Still, they cease their tussling to share a conspiratorial look before scrambling up to launch joint offense on her instead.

It ends with the three of them exhausted, splayed on the floor or the couch, a random movie playing in the background and Wolfwood feeling deeply, deeply content. The world didn't end, nobody got hurt, they all had fun and the wolf -

“Earth to Wolfwood! Is everything okay?" Apparently Vash has been talking to him for a bit and he missed it.

“It's nothin’." I'm just happy. And it's still scary, but he's faced worse things, hasn't he?

We also see him do this right before confronting Qifrey about the tassel swap.

Whenever we see Qifrey and Olly arguing as adults, Olly usually rubs his neck either after relenting the argument, or if he's about to say something confrontational. This is exactly what's happening in this scene. But what's also fun here is that the first panel looks to me a bit like hes grasping for where his ribbon would be, and given his reaction afterward he hadn't noticed the switch until this point.

My initial theory from this is that Olruggio's nervous habit of reaching for his neck, was originally a habit of fidgeting with his ribbon. I still believe this, however there is no other point in the flashback ark where he does this, which could mean nothing but could also be extremely intentional.