a/u: It's been a while since I've uploaded anything. And seeing as my other stories no longer exist, this would be my first one up..as of now. Anyway, just wanted to mention that I have a slight idea where I'm headed with this, but other than that, I've got nothing. Without further ado, enjoy my shameful, plot-less story.
Oh yeah. My disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Trigun or any of its characters. I do, however own this story as well as the original character that is sprinkled throughout it.
::Look Me in the Eye, and Tell Me You'll Die for Me::
The day was growing shorter as the tall man sat perfectly still in bed and in the same position he had been since that morning. It was an irritating image to walk in on for anyone who put forth any effort and time tending to his needs.
The small square room seemed to be getting smaller as the sunsets cast yellow and orange shadows in the corners and crannies, the dresser by the bed, the hooks on the door where a thin, flimsy, and tattered cloth hanged limp and lifeless.
And on the two individuals that sat across from each other in competitive silence.
There was a tension in the room that could cut through flesh and bone; chilling and repugnant.
Knives' eye twitched with distaste as he stared murderously at the girl in front of him. He'd been in battle with her since the first day he had opened his eyes, only to find himself in a small wretched room filled with humans. Humans that had befriended his brother. 'Vash, you imbecile.'
He would never forgive his brother for placing him in the same hemisphere, let alone the same house as a bunch of worthless women.
That day, he had looked up to see Vash, smiling down at him with his happy-go-lucky face, as if he'd done nothing at all. As if he didn't just shoot his own brother into a coma.
"You're awake, finally! It's been nearly two weeks, I thought I'd have to do some soul searching or something to see if you were still with us." Vash proclaimed loud and proud. The door had swung open just then revealing a very small girl accompanied by a rather large, no, taller girl. Both were carrying a stack of freshly dried sheets and linens.
"Ah, I see he's finally up." The smaller girl spoke, looking first, at the man in the bed and then at Vash. Placing her share of the folded sheets in the taller girl's stack and smiling slightly, she spoke again, "Since you're up, Milly and I will" she hesitated, "--will go into town and grab some medicine along with the grocery. Alright? Alright. Let's go Milly." She quickly left the room. Vash stared, watching the figure leave, in confusion and concern.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Knives." Milly spoke quietly and calm with a bright smile. She opened her mouth to say something else when she heard her name being called through the hallway. Jumping in her skin, she turned, "Coming Meryl!" and with that she fled the room to catch up with her co-worker.
Knives was disgusted at the sight he had seen. Not only were they humans, his brother was hanging out with, but they were women. Worthless, pathetic women who were no use to him. "What are you, some pimp? I didn't know." He spoke in a low, cracked voice. Vash snapped his head to his brother, appalled at the accusation he'd made. Sure Vash was known to be a lech and a womanizer, but he'd never, in his right mind, do anything to harm anyone, especially a young lady.
He chuckled deep in his throat; soft and soothing. Looking down at Knives, he answered his brother's question, "Meryl and Milly. They're my friends. You should be thankful. They're the ones that are providing a place for you" he paused, rephrasing his words, "for us, to stay." Vashes eyes darkened with warning as well as concern, "Please keep things civil. I don't want to lose you again." Knives studied his brother's face.
His jaw was set.
His eyes were full of sadness.
His brother was serious.
Knives closed his eyes, blocking the pain and ache that played across Vash's face.
"Leave me." The words were harsh, but Vash knew it was only temporary. Knives would need time to cool. After what he had gone through, he couldn't blame his brother to be angered and vile at everything and everyone.
Standing up straight, he began heading toward the door, "Alright! But be nice. Unlike Meryl and Milly, she doesn't give in that easily to mercy. Check on you later, bro!" With the door shut behind him, Vash smiled wickedly.
Inside the room, Knives stared at the door, wondering what his baboon of a brother had meant by his last remark. "What the hell is that fool talking about?" He groaned as he dropped his head back on his uncomfortable pillow.
A voice sprouted from the corner of the room, "I believe that fool is talking about me."
Knives turned his head to see where the noise was coming from. No wonder he hadn't seen her. She was sitting right beside the dresser in the corner of the room, the only visible part being her legs that crossed at the ankles and her hands that held a magazine. "Do you make it a habit of hiding behind shitty pieces of furniture." He stated rather than asked. The mysterious girl flipped the page once. And again. And then again before she replied to his remark, "Why, do you want to see me? I'm a human, you know. And I have breasts. Two of the most dreadful things in your life, yes?"
The girl was a pissant and a bitch.
"By all means, stay in your corner. In fact, why don't you just leave like everyone else." Knives spat out, as he turned his head toward the ceiling.
"I'd love to leave you in your own abysmal crap hole of a miserable life, but unfortunately, I'm on duty. Something about, I don't know, taking care of a baby." Closing the magazine, she got up from her seat and walked out into the room. When she reached the side of the bed, she looked down at Knives with eyes that were just as cold and empty as his own. Her face was heart-shaped, hair pinned loosely to the back of her head, her neck long and her body small and lean. Knives gritted his teeth as he looked up at the girl who dared to defy him with insults.
"The other girls haven't come back yet with the medicine so I'd suggest you shut the hell up, else you want to cause more pain to your pathetic body." The girl interrupted his death glare as well as his biting tongue that was about to strike.
"Why would I need to wait for some stupid pair of bitches with human medicine." Knives was more the well pissed, but showing it would only cause weakness to his appearance. Of course, this particular girl seemed to be oblivious to anything he was saying at all.
The girl leaned closer to him, her face mere inches from his own. She stared straight in his face, her eyes meeting with his. She moved her hand slowly down the side of his body to his left thigh, caressing it lightly before giving it one giant painfully excruciating squeeze. Knives' eyes burned with fire at the sensation, "Ahhh, shit woman!" Knives arched his back slightly before staring up at the girl that just crossed the borderline of being dead into nonexistent.
"That, my dear Pea Blossom, is why the other girls are getting medicine. Because your body is still healing from the bullet wounds you got all up in your business." She straightened and walked to the other side of the bed where a chair was placed for bedside surveillance convenience. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and opened up her magazine.
Since then, she had done nothing but sit in the chair, only occasionally uncrossing and re-crossing her legs and moving the chair from one side of the bed to the other until she finally decided to set herself at the end of the bed. Right in front of Knives.
Now he sat up straight, staring at the girl that seemed to infest his room with her presence day after day. It had been about another two weeks and a half and his body had healed perfectly, but Knives was never really one to back down on slave labor, in any shape or form it took. He had to admit, he took humor to the way the girl managed to always do every beck and call he'd commanded of her—even if she didn't do it quietly.
She was, what Vash liked to call, his nurse, though neither Knives nor the girl approved of that title.
Knives didn't need one.
She didn't want to be one.
And yet here she was. At the end of his bed, staring right at him with the same look she'd had since that morning. And Knives hated it. He hated having her there. He hated being here. If he had the option, he would have killed here eons before she'd ever touch him. But something told him that if he tried—she wouldn't have gone down without a fight.
But it was Vash's words that stopped him from creating any blood shed. Vash wanted civility. Knives would at least offer that much of himself to his foolish brother.
The girl had finally decided to move, leaning back against the bed frame with her arms stretched out to her sides. She came out of her original position, stretching her legs out in front of her, disregarding the body that sat there. She knew Knives hated her being there in such close proximity. She knew he had little tolerance for the human kind.
She knew his boundary. But she walked all over it, like it was a Sunday morning walk through the park. She wasn't scared of him.
And that was the most terrifying thing for Knives. His authority was dull when she was around. Still, he had never once given her an edge for salvation. Whatever she said, he responded with malice and sarcasm. Unfortunately it had gone both ways, he soon realized.
Knives watched as the girl adjusted herself; as she made herself more comfortable. He didn't understand why she didn't flinch under his vicious tone; why she didn't blink back even a single tear when he threw the most horrific insults he could throw at her. No, Knives wouldn't be beaten so easily.
Staring straight at her with only the slightest bit of amusement, he broke the silence, "Isn't it your bedtime, woman?"
The girl had just finished moving when she lifted her chin and stared at him, "Isn't it yours? Remember? Seven o' clock sharp. That's what your brother and Milly said." She gave a little smirk, "It's three minutes past your bedtime, sugarplum."
Knives made a mental note to rip out her tongue and shove it down her throat the next time he had the chance. She had made it, in what pathetic mind she had, that she could call him everything that was cute, sweet and sugar-filled. He could kill every person on Gunsmoke if each held a nickname that that girl had given him.
Knives stayed in his position, his arms crossed in front of his chest, "Leave." He spoke the words slowly and maliciously. It had worked the hundred times that Meryl had come in to tend to his needs. It worked when Milly came skipping through the room with trays of food. It had even worked on his dear brother, who would only frown in disappointment before exiting the room. But this girl didn't budge. Instead, she leisurely made herself more comfortable.
"Duty calls, honey buns." She spoke with a yawn.
"You know I could kill you." Knives spat as he glared for yet another nickname.
"Yes you could. Amazing." The girl recovered from her yawn, staring blankly at the man in front of her. Knives' lips pursed as he studied her facial expressions, which, there were scarcely any at all.
The room was no longer casting the same shadows. Outside the only window, the moons of Gunsmoke radiated peacefully, glowing in the darkness that enveloped it. Dark blues and blacks skimmed over the contents of the room where Knives remained, on his bed, along with the stubborn girl. He needed her to leave. He wanted her gone. Away from the room. Away from him. In honesty, he really was tired. He wanted to rest without having someone, especially her, watching over him. Yet he knew why she stayed.
She was ordered to.
His brother had ordered her to stay with him. To watch him and make sure he didn't get out of bed and leave during the middle of the night and wreak havoc of the world. Knives mentally cursed at his brother. 'Damn you, Vash. You're such a fool.'
Knives examined the girl across from him. He noticed her face twitch. So, she was just as tired as he was. He wondered what would happen if he were to keep her up all night doing nothing but stare at each other, but thought otherwise for he was sure neither of them, if they really didn't try, would make it.
Knives was about the open his mouth to say something when his bedroom door opened. Vash walked in the room with nothing but a pair of sweats and a towel wrapped loosely around his neck. He was carrying a stack of clothes in one hand while his other, well his other one was detached from his arm completely. Both Knives and the girl looked in his direction. Vash took in the sight before him.
Knives was obviously being stubborn for he'd been in the same position since the last time he came in to visit his brother. And the girl. Well, she'd been at the end of his bed, resting leisurely as if there wasn't a care in the world.
Vash had to admit, it was a funny image. Shaking the thoughts away, he cleared his throat, "Hey you two. Knives, I brought some clothes for you. I don't know if you'll like them, but whether you like them or not doesn't really matter." Vash stopped laughing when neither of the two on the bed found it as humorous as he did.
"Anyway, I'll take it from here. You can go." Vash smiled sweetly at the girl and watched as relief fell on her lips in a half smile; her face relaxed and her eyes soft. The girl got up and quietly left the room, closing the door and leaving the two brothers to be alone.
Both Knives and Vash watched as she exited the door. Vash had met her a while back out of the blue. He didn't really know what her story was, but he knew it bugged her everyday. They had become close friends in the short time that they'd known each other, and he was thankful for her presence.
Sighing, Vash turned to look at his brother. He walked over to the chair by the bed and took a seat.
"Are you two fighting?" Vash playfully joked, hoping to get a response out of his brother.
Knives sent daggers at Vash as he jerked his head and glared at him. Vash's smile disappeared.
"I hate that woman." Knives said angrily. "She does nothing but wastes my time." With that, Knives slowly shifted his body and weight, as he spread himself across the bed, grabbing the blankets, at the end of the bed, that the girl had taken in order to add padding to her back. Vash watched as Knives lay down, covering himself with the blankets and finally submitting to sleep. Vash smiled inwardly.
"She's not as bad as you think." Vash stated as he got up, placed the stack of clothes on the chair, and walked out of the room.
Finally, the room was silent. Knives was relieved. In his mind, he knew he could leave. He could sneak out of the house and just leave if he so wished. But something, or someone, made him think otherwise.
Knives was defeated.
His brother had defeated him.
And he knew he wasn't ready to enter the battle ring. Not just yet. He would need more time to prepare. In the meantime, all he could do was stay.
Stay with Vash.
Knives grumbled as he dozed off into a slumber.
"Yes. She is."
a/u: I know. It's a crappy way to begin a story. Sorry.