"Azwel!" For a second Vash's heart leaps. Proud of his friend. He wants to encourage him to keep fighting. Show these crap scientists who's boss, but the shaking arms halts his praise. Even with the drugs toying with his mind that red drop on his chest has his stomach churning.

"Azwel." He speaks slower, softer now. "It's okay. It's really okay." None of this was okay, but Azwel dying will take this from being awful to unbearable. "I can take it. It's my fault so please, don't fight this." Vash pushes himself up and forward. Trying to kiss any patch of skin that he can reach. "Enjoy this. It will make it easier for me. It's okay." He just keeps repeating himself. "It's okay."