Words Painting White Walls

Author's note; Do not own Trigun. Happy? What is this story about? Knives going crazy…err, crazier. Mainly because I don't care what species he is or that he was in a light bulb for 20 years. Being in a room doing nothing but staring at the white walls is bound to drive you to some level of crazy. A little Milly x Knives if you squint. There are a lot of references to Milly x Wolfwood. Not sure if this is a one-shot or the beginnings of a longer piece. Special thanks to my editor, she does a wonderful job and provides great advice.


When Knives awoke in an unfamiliar bed in a room with plain white walls, unable to do so much as lift an arm without his nerve endings fast-wiring pain signals to his brain, he had been optimistic. His wounds, for all the agony they were causing him, were minor. They would take a while to heal, yes, but not nearly the twenty-two years it took him to recover his legs. He assumed, so arrogantly, so foolishly, that if he could wait twenty-two years for the use of his legs he could wait a few months for his recovery. Knives did not paid attention to the fact he had also lost the ability to use his arms or that he could not actively plot revenge against his brother. Swearing not to speak to his twin and the insurance girls had also been a foolhardy move. Knives thought he had never been so stupid in his entire life… and Knives had done some very foolish things, he grudgingly admitted.

All Knives had to entertain himself was what he could see of the room from his position on the bed and his own mind. Knives quickly learned within the first few days that while the mind can be your sanctuary, it can also be your own personally designed hell. There was no life to the room to save him. The only furniture in this room was a dresser on the far side of the room, a desk, a chair, and his bed. There was nothing intriguing or interesting about the room. The sole window he could barely see a sliver of the sky out of thanks to the angle of his bed. By day three his awakening to the plain white walls had already started to corrode his mind. If he stayed in this bed, in this room, with nothing but his thoughts; Knives knew he would become a vegetable. The white walls would take any thought he had away from him. Sleeping away the days was useless. He only ever had nightmares these days. Sleep left him drained rather than replenished.

Vash had only visited him twice. Knives was unwilling to admit that his brother's absence hurt, he was too angry at his brother for, out of all the stupid things, not killing him. Knives refused to bend to his brother's will, he was too proud. Then again, these rooms with its blank walls were robbing him of his personality and with it, his pride. He was getting desperate. Knives wanted Vash to visit him again, but no, his brother would not. Vash had said as much in his first visit. Knives had been dumped on Vash's females companions, only those two would take care of him. It was degrading, to be at the mercy of spiders. It was strangely comforting that the petite one obsessed with his brother displayed equal dislike whenever she entered the room. It was so much better than the reaction he got from the tall one… which was tears. The woman never said why she cried but she had no need to, a mix of curiosity and desperation caused him to read her mind when the woman started crying once again.

A quick glance gave him three shocks, possibly four. The tall one was Wolfwood's lady, she harbored no hate against him for it, and she mourned the fact that the differences between him and Vash were so great that it had come to this. Oh, and she was pregnant. Knives got the opinion she had not told anyone yet. It was ironic that he was the only one to discover her secret – did she even know? – and by default he would tell no one. It made him want to laugh but Knives would have counted that as conversing with the spiders. Vash had visited a second time to scold at him for using his power on 'Milly' and that if he caught Knives using his powers again he would never let him out of the room. Knives could tell Vash thought it was a weak and pathetic threat. His brother had not realized what profound effect the room was having upon him. He would do anything to get out of this room.

It was fascinating what the white walls were doing to his mental psyche. It was like his mind was in an hour glass. Knives' mind was simply slipping away, like sand through his hands, into the room. By having no life, the room was thriving off of his. It was a futile battle. The room would suck him dry and it walls would remain white, awaiting its next victim. Knives decided the insanity the room was causing him was at least an interesting way to pass the time. Maybe they did not have a completely parasitic relationship.

Knives's contemplations came to a halt when the front door opened. He had never seen the door himself, but after his first day awake he had figured out the general layout of the house simply by the origins of all the noise each room generated. His room was eerily quiet, like it did not really belong to the house. Ah, the insanity was speaking again, it had such amusing ideas. Judging by the faint voice he heard and the color of the sky (he could just barely make out orange outside the window), the tall woman had returned. The petite one would be on her way out soon. His brother would be home in a few hours. All this meant was that he would soon have to face the crying, gentle giant once again as she redressed his wounds. He might have fought her efforts if he had not vowed himself to silence and if it was not his only ticket out of this room.

So, he waited. The woman was strangely late. Had she forgotten him? The very idea was infuriating. How dare she? What was that woman doing? His impatience made a fool of him, for the woman entered as soon as he started to grow angry. Something was different today though. Knives could sense it.

"Hi, Mr. Knives. How are you today? …. Oh, still not talking huh? Well that's okay; I can talk plenty for the both of us. You know Mr. Knives, Vash and Meryl are being awfully silly. Neither of them is willing to admit they love each other yet. Although Vash seems more reluctant ever since you woke up. I think it's cause he's worried about you. He's told me it's not right the way you've locked yourself away from us. Says it's unhealthy for you. Why won't you speak, Mr. Knives? Is it because you think we're spiders? Or is it because you have nothing nice to say? If it's the latter that's rather nice of you but your silence is still worrying us. Please decide to speak soon Mr. Knives, if only just to say mean things. Wow, the sunset looks pretty today. Would you like to go outside to see it?" Milly asked after talking for what seemed like an eternity to Knives. The constant silence made her voice echo around the room like a gunshot in the desert at night.

He could only stare at her in shock. Why? Why did this spider feel nothing against him for Wolfwood's death? She was pregnant with the child of a man that he might as well have killed with his own hands! Why was she so… forgiving? It baffled him.

"Oh, I know you can't walk yet, Mr. Knives," Milly responded to the silent question she thought he was asking her. "I'll carry you out."

There was no way in heaven, hell, or this godforsaken planet he would let the female spider carry him out. Knives might be losing his personality to the white room but he still had some dignity. He sneered at her to show his disdain and this time she thankfully got his point correctly.

Milly just shrugged at his refusal and picked up where she left off. She noted that he could not see out his window clearly and since he had already refused to go outside, she started to describe all the colors she saw outside. The woman was no poet but her words painted the white walls. Knives and the room hung on her every word with rapture. When the sky's color once more became uniform, Knives hardly noticed the sound of his brother's return. His focus was on the stories the woman had started to tell of her adventures – perhaps more aptly named misadventures – with his brother. When those ran out she mentioned any humorous story she had about her family. Knives decided the influx of hormones from pregnancy had caused his normally tearful nurse to become a cheerful chatterbox. Female hormones were scary things not to be underestimated.

When the woman finally started to yawn, she brought her stories to a halt and redressed his bandages with a small apology. She yawned once again saying she needed to turn in. The room seemed to shrink in on him, suffocating him. Within just one visit, the towering woman had changed everything. By talking about her travels and her family Millie had given life to the room and briefly saved Knives from his currently mundane life that was devouring him. Just as quickly as she came with this gift, she was leaving. A fear developed in Knives, now that he had grown to appreciate the vitality the woman carried with her, the starkness of the room seemed all that more unbearable. As the woman walked away, something in Knives broke.

"W-wait…" Knives managed to get out feebly. His voice was hoarse from its lack of use.

Milly turned to look at him confused; not at all surprised he had finally decided to speak.

Hesitantly, Knives licked his lips before continuing, "You should tell them… and you shouldn't come back." A small amount of self-disgust entered him. Knives had broken the promise he had made to himself because he was weak. He had spoken aloud to ask for a spider's help and all he did was pointlessly try to push her away.

Now the tall woman looked at him in surprise, knowing perfecting well what he meant. It was possible she also understood what he could not say. She just smiled at him. "You're right. I should. I just didn't want to make them sad but it'll really make them happy as well. As for coming back, I have to Mr. Knives. Mr. Vash asked me to, Meryl can't take care of you alone, and you need to get better. You won't get better if I don't come back to help you. Goodnight, Mr. Knives," Milly calmly stated before leaving.

In a way she had threatened him with this room, unintentionally. In a way she had told him to let him in because he might as well self-mutilate himself without her. It weighed heavily on his mind. Knives knew he either had to let Milly in or sacrifice what remained of his sanity to the room. It would be weeks before he could leave this room of his own volition. It wasn't much of a choice. He would let the tall woman come back to this room, take care of him, and converse with her. The alternative was not really an option. He had already broken his vow with her so that was no excuse. Besides, he had already made too many mistakes with his arrogance. It was about time he learned some humility.

Maybe next time she returned he could ask just how exactly Vash had broken their jeep. Knives chuckled as he settled for sleep. Letting the white walls act as canvases, playing out all the stories the woman had told him. For once he did not feel trapped in a lifeless room; Milly's tales had sated it.

Knives knew he had taken his first step back to what he deemed sanity. He never realized he had also taken his first step towards accepting humanity.


I know have some verb-tense issues going on in the first two paragraphs. I am unsure how to fix that so help is desired. I would love to get some feedback on this as well since this is actually only a take on a much larger story concept I had. So Love & Peace!