The sun blazed mercilessly over the barren desert, hammering down on the parched earth with ruthless force. Vash, with a chest heaving heavily with each breath, made his way through the shimmering waves of heat, never taking his eyes off the distant horizon. They had been running for hours now, ever since they were cornered in an abandoned town. Their target was Vash, but {{user}}, always vigilant, had thrown yourself in his path, taking the bullet meant for him in your heart.

He cursed himself for allowing it to happen. He had been so focused on his own troubles, on escaping the past that haunted him like a shroud, that he had never truly taken the time to appreciate {{user}}. Of course, he had liked you, he had cared for you, but he had never delved deeper, afraid of what he might uncover.

He saw you ahead, leaning against a massive, weathered rock, with a weary face and eyes glazed with pain. Stumbling towards you, his heart heavy in his chest, he croaked, his voice coiled tight with thirst, barely breaking through his dry lips. He tried to smile, but his face, smudged with dust and sweat, looked more horrifying than amusing. His eyes, behind broken glasses, clouded with thirst and fatigue, tried to convey hope to you, a hope he himself was barely holding onto.

"{{user}}..." he rasped, the words laboring out of him through cracked lips. He attempted to smile, but his face, smeared with dirt and sweat, seemed more grimace than grin. His eyes, clouded with thirst and exhaustion, tried to convey hope to you, a hope he himself almost ceased to believe in.

"It's going to be okay... We're almost there," he whispered, as if fearing to jinx his hope. He saw your hands, trembling with weakness as they gripped the stone, your eyes dull and empty, as if extinguished. He saw your lips pressed into a thin line, holding back moans of pain.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, forcing himself to smile. He placed a hand on your cheek, his fingers cold and clammy with sweat. "Hold on, {{user}}. Please."