... it's strange, to have this conversation now. for vax'ildan, it's looking backwards: looking back at a percy who doesn't know what's to come, at a conversation they once had. trust has always been a commodity for vax'ildan, because for the longest time in his life, vex'ahlia was the only person that he trusted. percy earned his, lost it, and... little does he know, earned it, again.
looking at this percy, who doesn't know about killing thordak or raishaun, who doesn't know about vecna the way he does, who hasn't even realized that vax left vex in percy's hands when he had to step back and fulfill his duty to the raven queen, because he knew she'd be safe there. happy there. after everything, percy has more than earned his trust and respect.
...
but he doesn't know that yet.
(isn't that what he has to do? to guide?)
vax takes a deep breath. shoulders up, shoulders down. ]
Yeah. One step at a time. [ a beat. ] And you - you listen to me. If you do something, if I do something. I don't care. It's not you. It's not me. It's this fucking prism.
[ by which he means hey if you need me to cover a murder for you... but doesn't say so. ]
[ this is some sort of promise that vax is making to him, the way they make promises--messily, clumsily, desperately. he stares at him for a moment longer, his brow giving a soft twitch. percy says it because he doesn't want vax to forget. he shouldn't forget.
eventually, he gives a nod, a shrug that communicates in turn: i accept. ]
I won't. We're here together, aren't we?
[ his hands lift, and it's of their own volition that they find vax's and hold them. firm. steady. ]
I'll... remember that. [ everything in him tells him not to, that he doesn't deserve this, but for some reason, the words leave him, they want to leave him. this is what he wants. ] The minute anything happens...
[ he gets the feeling that percy understood, and that's what matters. the bridge between them has been long thrown out, and vax is waiting at the other end with a torchlight, trying desperately to guide percy across. he can't give him the answers. all he can do is try.
(and that's part of what's always made things between them just a little rocky, isn't it? because they're similar - because vax'ildan knows the way the darkness of guilt and sadness can cling to your shoulders like a mantle and drag you down.)
it's a week influenced by touch, and so when percy takes his hands, he lets him hold them, just trying to fix him with a stare, trying so hard to get how he's feeling across where his words fail him. and as percy keeps going, he shifts, and does something he does more often with vex.
vax bonks his forehead against percy's.
his voice is intense when he answers, finishing percy's sentence. ] ...then we go at it together. Whatever it is.
[ death, murder, having each other's back. that's what vox machina does. it might be vax's last chance to do so. ]
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... it's strange, to have this conversation now. for vax'ildan, it's looking backwards: looking back at a percy who doesn't know what's to come, at a conversation they once had. trust has always been a commodity for vax'ildan, because for the longest time in his life, vex'ahlia was the only person that he trusted. percy earned his, lost it, and... little does he know, earned it, again.
looking at this percy, who doesn't know about killing thordak or raishaun, who doesn't know about vecna the way he does, who hasn't even realized that vax left vex in percy's hands when he had to step back and fulfill his duty to the raven queen, because he knew she'd be safe there. happy there. after everything, percy has more than earned his trust and respect.
...
but he doesn't know that yet.
(isn't that what he has to do? to guide?)
vax takes a deep breath. shoulders up, shoulders down. ]
Yeah. One step at a time. [ a beat. ] And you - you listen to me. If you do something, if I do something. I don't care. It's not you. It's not me. It's this fucking prism.
[ by which he means hey if you need me to cover a murder for you... but doesn't say so. ]
Just don't shut me out, either.
no subject
eventually, he gives a nod, a shrug that communicates in turn: i accept. ]
I won't. We're here together, aren't we?
[ his hands lift, and it's of their own volition that they find vax's and hold them. firm. steady. ]
I'll... remember that. [ everything in him tells him not to, that he doesn't deserve this, but for some reason, the words leave him, they want to leave him. this is what he wants. ] The minute anything happens...
no subject
(and that's part of what's always made things between them just a little rocky, isn't it? because they're similar - because vax'ildan knows the way the darkness of guilt and sadness can cling to your shoulders like a mantle and drag you down.)
it's a week influenced by touch, and so when percy takes his hands, he lets him hold them, just trying to fix him with a stare, trying so hard to get how he's feeling across where his words fail him. and as percy keeps going, he shifts, and does something he does more often with vex.
vax bonks his forehead against percy's.
his voice is intense when he answers, finishing percy's sentence. ] ...then we go at it together. Whatever it is.
[ death, murder, having each other's back. that's what vox machina does. it might be vax's last chance to do so. ]