Disclaimer: Trigun and Trigun Maximum belongs to Yasuhiro Nightow. Du'uh.

Spoilers: TRIGUN vol 3, ch 4, pg 216-217.

Beta: Alaena Night, here's your (really, really, REALLY belated) Birthday present! XD

A/N: Edited it (AGAIN, for the trillionth time in SEVEN goddamned months. ...ToT) and out of the blue, rearranged a few whole paragraphs and added FOUR more pages; OVERNIGHT. Quite the reiteration of the previous chappie, I must say. I, for the sake of my life, could not comprehend why I tend to write more during EXAM periods... (must be the Curse of the Exam Week for the Lazy... TvT) Oh, well. Expect the next installment to be as lengthy as this one as well. In fact, maybe even longer. (shrugs)

Ah! BIG NEWS! Believe it or not, Knives' eyes are not blue, but GREEN!!! AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! (went hysterical)

It's TRUE! Just recently, when I closely inspected at the colored back cover of Trigun Maximum volume 8, I came to realize that the person that suspiciously resembled Vash was actually Knives! With that blond hair and green eyes, who wouldn't get confused!? (was genuinely shocked) If you don't believe me, click the picture link I posted on my profile, and see with your own eyes of the truth! And this fic is supposed to be based on the manga, but I referred to Knives as he is commonly known in the anime: one with silver blond hair and cold blue eyes... As the Trigun manga-version lover, how can I make this mistake!? NUUOOOOOO!! (over-dramatizes the whole situation)

(Vash pops out of nowhere, yet again, and animatedly states out, adorably tapping his balled fist onto his mechanical palm.) "Ooooh! So in the usually-black-and-white picture books, Knives really do look like me! We really are identical twins then! All this time, I thought that we were only look-alike siblings! Man, what a revelation!" (He cutely beams, then stills; processes the new information while massaging his chin in his habitual "Is-Thinking" pose.)

(Then, a few minutes later, with small sweatdrops rapidly going down the back of his neck, still smiling, he sneaks a nervous glance at the author who was currently mumbling inarticulate language while poking on invincible dirt on the floor.) "...then the probability of me going psycho like my bro did went up by a few notches, huh..?"

By 503.56745672, yes... (and the author keeps poking and pressing the 'answer' key on the scientific calculator that, like everything in this alternate 'Author's Note' world did, surfaced out of nowhere; or rather, out of the floor. And continues her mourning of the 'Knives-has-blond-hair-and-green-eyes... Knives-has-blond-hair-and-green-eyes... Knives-has...')

(Knives steps in and jabs at the weeping form on the floor that is the author with the heels of his shoe. A grimace graces his handsome face.) "Oi. Stop sniveling on the floor like the dog you are. Not that I aren't pleased with the fact that you have ultimately understood where your place is; it's just very unsightly for my dear brother to see. ... Why are you looking at me like that, Vash..?"

(Vash sniffles with tears beading down to the fisted hands on his face, distancing himself inches by inches away from his recently-confirmed twin. Knives voiced a jumbled 'o..oi...bro?' at Vash, and Vash answers by running away, with his tears trailing him, howling all the way to NeverNeverLand(?),)

"NUUUUOOOOOO! JE NE VEUX PAS ÊTRE COMME LUUUIIIIIIIIII! (I DUN WANNA BE LIKE HIIIIM!) MAMAAaaaan--!"

"(O.o) ..." (twitch)(twitch) "...Vashu, why in the god that is Me are you brawling in French..?" ((With reference to TRIGUN, the manga vol 1 and the anime ep 5. XD ))

(And with that, dear crying-and-runnin-away-from-reality Vashu-chan leaves one puzzled, eye-twitching so-called psycho-of-a-twin gaping at his disappearing-and-still-howling brother, with another lamenting psycho that is still poking on the floor.)

(The psychosis of the whole situation is kinda hilarious, duncha think? XD )

----------------

After The End of All

Part 10

----------------

This was it. The moment I have been waiting for my whole, whole existence...

Pristine emerald orbs slowly fluttered open, misty in their haziness. Full lips opened and closed, as if soft words were trying to escape from them. I traced the quivering lips with my thumb, muttering somewhat inarticulately about him not needing to speak. Long fingers were moving in my other hand, clutching onto it. As if to verify his existence. To verify that I was really by his side...

Our eyes met. The haze in his pretty sea green orbs lifted.

... To verify that, this time around, I never would have to leave him again.

He smiled.

He smiled the most beautiful smile that I have ever seen for almost two centuries. The one smile I have never seen ever since I ripped off that innocent part of him by commencing the Big Fall. The smile he bestowed upon me when we were still unsullied little Plantlings. The one true smile that I have missed so, so much...

My heart fluttered in exhilaration, in ecstasy, in elation, as the most important person to me, at last... at last... came back to me...

Returned... to me...

I smiled in reply to his.

"Welcome back, Vashu."

----------------

"Knives..."

His hot breath descended on my chest.

Vash was trembling, as if he was cold. I pulled him in a more powerful embrace, trying to give my body heat to him. But how could I do just that? My body didn't even exist here...

Vash was still shivering.

I softly patted his head, trying to calm his distressed heart. Trying to ease his suffering. Trying.

"Hmm...?" was my only reply.

No. Him feeling cold must have not been the only reason.

I looked up and around us.

The red geraniums have withered into the brown color of death. The russet petals, dipped in bereavement of a lost heaven, waved about us, as if to warn us of something, as if not allowing us to leave. The sky has calamity written all over it; thunderclouds darkening dreadfully as time ticked by, flickering their ghastly lightning at an increasing pace. The endless horizon was as dark as black holes, gradually inching nearer, closing in on us. The ground has terrible, deep fissures surrounding us. I almost fell into one as I rushed to the side of a manifestly terrified brother of mine, quivering on the ground and hugging himself like a frightened little child...

Yes. That was it. He was frightened. Terrified, even.

I felt the rumble of his Adam's apple as he spoke again.

"I... remember..."

I soothed his hair and kissed the crown of his head, silently encouraging him to continue.

"I... I remember... you... in the past... have done terrible... terrible things to me..."

I closed my eyes tightly. That was the truth, and I have no desire to lie to the one closest to my heart. I just... I didn't want him to leave me again because of those old memories. Not after what we've been through. Not after what I've been through...

I felt his cold fingers touching my cheek. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

He was smiling.

"I... understand..."

That one word was the answer to everything.

"Take me with you..."

An ominous thunder flashed above us. The heavens, warning us not to leave. Warning me to not steal its only inhabitant away.

"Take me... with you..."

The deathly geraniums waved their goodbyes.

----------------

"Is this okay with you?"

I was feeding Vash with liquidized chow by spoon. It was common sense that after not eating for a long period of time, the body will spontaneously reject solid food. And being comatose for six years will do just that. The same rule followed me when I was freshly 'reborn' at Juneora Rock. However, when I was able to even stride down a cliff back then, Vash on the other hand has yet to master the movements of his limbs, much less picking up a spoon. Even so, he has insisted that he could feed himself, but I would not let him. He woke up less than three days ago, and his muscles were still weak. Well, he could just forget his pride for a little bitand let his big brother here pamper him once in a while. Isn't pampering a sickly, albeit noisy, little brother what a big brother would properly do?

"Mm-hmm. Though, I miss my donuts."

I grimaced. Pamper him, I would; but not when it comes to things that could worsen his already frail body. "...That excuse-of-a-food is going to give you cavities. Open your mouth wide."

He pouted. "You don't need to baby me, you know. And I've been eating doughnuts all my life. I never got any tootha- MMPH."

Hn. Shoving the spoon into his mouth when he spoke high vowels like 'A's and 'I's did do its job at keeping his mouth shut. I would have never thought that it would be so much fun playing on my brother like this. He made such a cute face when he was swallowing while pouting like that; I smirked inwardly at that thought. Feeling up to being the sadistic brother Vash has always labeled me of, I picked up another spoonful of chow, and schooled the most sarcastic expression I could conjure. "Finished with your ranting? Another food delivery by Woof-Jet aircraft is coming your way. Say aaaah."

He sulked horrendously, with a bit of pink coloring his face. "Please don't embarrass me any more than necessary, Knives..."

I lowered the spoon so that I could look at him in the eyes, the edges of my lips creeping upward. I love my sadistic streak, especially when implemented in my brother. "Hm? Why not? There's only the two of us here, brother. And brothers shouldn't be embarrassed of each other. Now, open wide."

That was about the time I heard the low "A-hem" and soft knocking on the room's metal door panels. My eye twitched. Greeeeeat. The fifth wheel came for a visit again... No wonder Vash was reddening by the seconds.

I could hear the amusement in her voice. "How are you feeling, Vash-kun? Does the food serve to your palate?"

Still pinking away, Vash slowly replied while picking on his starch-white blanket, "I'm fine, except when my good-for-nuthin' bro just couldn't stop teasing me." Vash pointedly glared at me with that comment. I not-so-silently harrumphed in reply. He turned his head to face Chronica, smiling a grateful smile. "The food is okay, I guess. Thank you for asking. How was your day, Chronica-san?"

"Nothing much. Just monitoring your progress from the archive. If you follow through the current diet, you can start on semi-solid food in less than five days. That would be a nice change, don't you think so?" Throughout her chatter, she sauntered from the door to Vash's bed, helping herself to the extra chair beside me, and beaming that sickly sweet smile I have never seen before she started talking with Vash.

Vash was practically glowing. "Really? I could?"

Chronica was still smiling. "Absolutely. As long as you finish the course without breaking the rules, your stomach will definitely be able to digest solid food in four weeks time. Of that, I promise you. So, what do you think about..."

My left eye was twitching. See? How they absolutely disregarded my existence when they start speaking with each other? Ever since they met a couple of days ago, they became instant best friends. I could see why Chronica was acting this way – it would appear that she was enjoying the fact that I'd fume whenever she starts talking to Vash – but I could not comprehend the fact that Vash was following her suit. Now, I'm the one feeling like the fifth wheel...

Two minutes and sixteen seconds of non-stop prattle between the two of them was enough to make me seethe; pout wouldn't fit well with my personality, though I felt like one was impending if they keep disregarding me. I was only listening to the silences between their exchanges, bidding for the best time to interfere.

"Miss Chronica. Do you mind? I am feeding my brother here. If you really want to see him well and healthy in the expected period of time, wouldn't it be better if he finishes his meal before bombarding him with one thousand and one questions?"

Chronica turned her heat to look at me, smiling still, acting mockingly polite, I must stress. "Ah, I'm so sorry. It's just that Vash wasn't really minding me talking with him. Are you, Vash?" and turned to look at Vash expectantly, stars twinkling, along with that fake grin of hers.

"Of course not!" was Vash's cheerful reply.

Damn manipulator. She knew that I couldn't say 'no' when Vash was cutely beaming like that.

Understanding that grumbling to myself will get me nowhere, I placed the bowl of chow on a bedside cabinet and replaced it with an apple and a fruit knife. Yesterday, I was searching for food supplies suitable for Vash's condition in the cold storage area when I found a small crate of dozen-or-so dry-frozen apples by chance, which I brought along to Vash's room. Slowly peeling the dull-red skin away, I absentmindedly recalled Vash made a big fuss about wanting to eat the extremely rare fruit, which only grows on Earth. Smiling guiltily, Chronica gave a side-comment about the apples has been in storage for a few decades, and should still be edible after restoring it, but reminded Vash that he still could not consume solid food for the time being. The freshness of the fruit was yet to be determined, hence I was not-so-voluntarily nominated as the quality tester. Their two votes won over mine. No wondering why I hated democracy: it disadvantages the minority. Cutting a half-quarter of the fruit and popping it into my mouth, I concluded that this second sample was also up to the quality range I premeditated. I gloomily glowered at the chatting-with-each-other-and-totally-ignoring-me pair. Better entertain myself with something before I snap, I figured as I munched on the apple at a snail's pace, a small piece at a time.

Not to start myself into wallowing about how Chronica and Vash have teamed up and plotted some wicked plan to pull my leg around and prod me with the "you're the fifth wheel here" stick, I pondered about the happenings of late while my mouth was working on the apple. I became aware of the fact that Chronica loved to be about Vash, ever since he was still in his Convalesce Chamber. She would sometimes stop by whenever she was sure that I wouldn't be around – especially when I slept like a log after each energy transfusions – and just stand there, staring at Vash with vacant eyes. How was I to know? I made it a habit to browse through Vash's vitals and visual recording of that time period when I was unconscious, just to make sure no complications has taken place. Out of three recordings, two would have her standing there, roughly seven-point-four-three feet in front of Vash's vessel, gazing passively at his face. Just staring at him, and nothing more; that was the sole reason why I didn't confront her of that affair. As long as Vash was still safe and sound, I didn't have the motive stop her from doing so. She was our valued 'host' of this ship, after all.

Then, when Vash was safely out of his damn cylinder imprisonment, Chronica would cook up every excuse in existence and made sure that she would never leave Vash's side if she didn't have to. I could write every one of them down and make a five-volume 357-page-per-book anthology of "The Greatest I-Want-to-Stay-Here-and-I-Will-Stay-Here-No-Matter-What-You-Say Excuses". And yes, I was being sarcastic.

And now, her fixation on Vash went to another level. Except for the two-hour interval that she had to stay and work in the archive everyday – I had taken one of those portable persocoms units and installed it in Vash's room ever since he was out of the Gouhfon's solution; it has been of rare occurrence for me to go back there since – she'd spend most of her free time, here, chatting with Vash. And all the while she was doing a very splendid job at doing what she does best; yes, that's right: getting under my skin. Making me irritated to no end has been in her must-accomplish list of the day. Every single day, that is.

But in truth, I didn't mind her being with us. I couldn't care less if she was here with us the whole time. Ever since Vash woke up, her attitude was somewhat... more acceptable. Her smiles was a normal occurrence now, though a little more sardonic when the smile was meant for me. Would still piss me off, but nonetheless easier on the eyes compared to her previous expressionless ones. She has 'loosened up', as the saying went. At some point, I even enjoyed the time we spent together, like this, only the three of us. Just like... like...

A family.

... Where in-heaven-and-earth-that-are-mine did that came from?

Pushing aside that ghastly thought and the nausea that came with it, 'Whatever the situation is', I stressed to myself, 'I'd never give up on dominating Vash-and-me-only time.'

Gotten bored of being left out and thinking too much, even more so after I have effectively polished off the apple, I groused out at the animatedly chatting Chronica, left eye twitching, "You should at least let him–" and me "–finish the meal in peace. I don't want him to get indigestion because he was talking–" to you "–while eating."

Oh, how much I disliked that snicker. "You were talking with him while he was eating before. Didn't hurt him."

"She's right, yanno."

"Whatever..."

I. Am. Not. Pouting. In. Front. Of. Her.

An amused chuckle from my side had lifted me off my "now I'm really feeling like the fifth wheel" reverie.

Chronica was smiling at me.

This time, it was the pleasant smile she had always given so freely to Vash; now presented to me.

Maybe her being here was not half-bad after all.

"If you can't have me sitting here, you may leave and let me do the feeding. Pass the bowl to me please"

"Ahh..! Not you too, Chronica-san--!"

A vein in my forehead popped. My left eye was twitching non-stop.

I take that back. Along with everything nice I have said and/or thought of her.

"Never."

After just a few seconds, the sounds of loud crashing, then followed by shouts and laughter filled up the room.

----------------

"How is your body feeling?"

"Fine. Just a bit cold, I guess. From the bath."

After making sure that Vash was warm and snugly wrapped all around in his blankets except for his head and damp hair, with a "Stop babying me, Knives--!" from my ever-protesting brother, I rubbed the moisture off from between the strands with a fluffy white towel. As much as I could, anyway. His long locks, seemingly curlier by the minute, were doing really well at keeping themselves wet.

Maybe I should borrow Chronica's hairdryer.

Scratch that. I'm never going to her for any reasons whatsoever for the next few millennia. Not before she gets down on her knees and begs for my forgiveness for dousing me with that nutrient drink. The damn liquid got into my eyes, and how it stung. "Really, brother. You of all people should know that your own room is not the right place to start a food fight. Thank goodness that none of the electrical equipments got damaged in the process. Took us quite a while to clean up the mess. And what are you giggling about?"

The reply I got was more giggling. "Well, from my point of view, you looked like you were enjoying it. Chronica-san too. In the end, both of you made good practice targets out of each other. How 'adult' people like the two of you could turn out being so childish."

I huffed indignantly in my wounded pride. "She started it first. Never thought she'd upturn the whole tray onto me when she managed to get her hands on it."

Vash leaned upwards, and was looking at me with these excited puppy eyes. Then, came that deriding grin. I knew that expression of his; I braced myself for impact.

"Hey, Knives... You and Chronica-san really are very close. Are you dating her?"

That the most far-fetched statement I have ever heard of from his lips, ever since I last heard him spouting his incorrigible "Love and Peace" motto around Gunsmoke. I gagged, and coughed and sputtered as I felt –to my horror– warmth creeping up my cheek. "W-Why should I be?" I rubbed harder on Vash's curls, and increasing in vigor at every syllable. "She's prideful, stuck-up, conceited, arrogant, pretentious, gaudy, snobbish, ostentatious, disdainful, supercilious, condescending, patronizing, and. Downright. Pompous!"

"Just like you!" Vash sing-sung.

"Not!"

I wheezed a little after that last statement. Taking a deep breath, I continued with the Chronica-degrading sermons, my hands combing up and down and through his tresses with the towel, "What's more, even if she is female by genetic coding, there is not a single strand of feminine cell in her! She doesn't even act feminine! Not even by a micron! What more, you are much prettier than she is! Which makes me, your near-identical twin, prettier than she is! Why should I like a woman that is less of a woman than myself?? And you. How could you slap the food that you should be eating all over your dear brother's handsome face?"

A snort, and a giggle erupted that bordered to a snigger. "I just didn't want to waste the food. And Chronica-san was right about you being a narcissist."

Another huff. "What's wrong with being one? And never associate me with her ever again. I'm never going to forgive her for making me take another shower tonight."

And a real snigger this time. "This is the good ol' I-am-God-bow-to-me Knives all right."

Unable to suppress my own snickers –Vash's laughter was very infectious– I pressed harder on his head, lowering it to get more access to the scalp at his back of his head. "Now, you bow to me. I need finish drying off your hair so that you and I can both get our beauty sleeps."

Obediently chinning down, he leisurely snuggled deeper into his sheets, hiding his face away, his voice muffled by layers of fabric.

"...I never realized how much I missed hearing your laughter until I heard it..."

I frowned, but kept my hands busy.

How it stung...

"...I laugh all the time."

Even with the blankets covering the lower half of his face from view, I could almost see the bittersweet smile gracing his lips by the sad curve of his eyes. As if he didn't hear me, as if he was stuck in his own little musings, Vash spoke on with the airiest of voices,

"...yes. It was since that time..."

He closed his eyes.

"How long has it been, since we first met Tessla...?"

My hands stilled.

Hugging onto his legs under his blankets and inclining his head on top of his knees, he closed his eyes and continued, "She must have been really lonely, being in there all alone. I understood how she felt; being in almost the same situation as she did. But at least I'm still alive. And I've got you with me. But she..."

With steady hands, I put the towel on the empty chair behind me, and immediately pulled him into the mightiest hug I could muster, while minding about his body still being so frail...

Gazing deeply into those woeful turquoise depths, I declared with a steeled voice, "...It will never happen again. I've promised you, brother. You, of all, should understand."

Face, tear-soaked. Fingers, trembling. Legs, wobbly after a wave of panic attacks. Warm helping hands, irately slapped away by shaky arm. Sob after sob, incomprehensible muttering erupted from pale lips, muffled by the knees on which it was buried into. Another pair of knees, steadily positioned in front of clenching toes, patiently waited on the flower-laden grounds. Patiently.

The long wait was at last awarded when warm hands placed on shuddering shoulders were not shook off, and was let to be there.

"You must understand, Vash. I will never let the same thing happen to you, or any of our kin, so that's why..."

Those eyes lit up again, back to its merry old self, arching. Vash raised his head; that beautiful smile he bestowed onto me for the second time in these three days was dazzling.

"I do, brother... I've told you so, haven't I?"

As if to ease my troubles away, Vash gently thread his fingers through my hair, gently smoothing on the strands, gently easing my apprehensive self; gently smiling my worries away. Gently.

That was it. I've just convinced myself that I do suffer from a chronic brother complex, yet again. I was in bliss, only at being able to coddle with Vash like when we were children. But something wasn't right with the settings...

"Owwowooow, Knives--! You're pulling on my hair!"

Ah. Right. That. I kept forgetting the fact that he now has four-foot long hair attached to his scalp, and I was literally sitting on it. I halfheartedly stood up and looked down at Vash while he stared in amazement as he realized the extensive length of his pitch-black mane. He looked like he couldn't believe the fact that his hair had grown to be so long, as he still sustained his memories of being in his fake Eden, and there, he maintained his spiked locks in its full glory the whole time.

Also, because the outcome of darkening of an Independent's hair was infinitely irreversible, I was still in charge of transferring my energy to him, even after he has already awakened from his coma. His Gate was stabilized, but it still needed small doses of energy every now and then to keep it alleviated, just like how a drinker constantly needs alcohol. To do so, Chronica made a small leak on my suppressor, so it would be possible for little amounts of my energy to flow out. But as the energy required for the transfer was adequately minuscule, the darkening effect of my own tresses was gratifyingly slow. Slow enough for Vash to not notice the changes. That only three-quarter of my tresses retained its pale-blond color, and the black speck was gradually expanding by the days.

"We must make the smallest sacrifice possible at the given time."

Whoever implanted those enlightening words in my psych really deserved some credits.

I snickered at Vash's awe-filled face. "Want me to help you with that?"

Then, I noticed something strange. He wasn't looking at his slightly damp mane with wonder, but more in reminiscence...

It clicked in my mind.

That- that woman...

That's it. How could I forget..? She too has long, flowing hair; dark as the deepest space itself. And that smile that deceived us all...

I saw red. My past and present came crashing together, jumbling my thoughts. Don't tell me he's going to keep his own lengthened strands just in the memory of that woman? That would be disgusting! But I could not make myself to hate his elongated mane, because whether I liked it or not, it was also the extension of my brother. Nothing of my brother would be anything to loath about. Just his supposed motives of keeping his hair did.

While I was battling my reasons of whether to let Vash keep his long locks, or cut it off whilst he was asleep, Vash stonily spoke out, "Yeah. It's kinda annoying, seeing it long like this. I don't like it. I don't like it, a lot." He looked up and into my eyes, the distant depth of his orbs vaguely unnerving. "Cut it for me, will you, Knives? Like, now, please?"

I was slightly taken aback with the despise in his voice, on his face, in his eyes. He seemed to be growing in unrest with the discovery of his lengthened mane, gazing at it with mounting hatred.

And I smiled.

I leaned down, and using both of my hands, I wiped away the strands of dark hair covering my brother's beautiful turquoise orbs, and entwined my fingers between the wisps of silky mane. Resting my forehead on his, I gazed deep into his emerald depths, and spoke with the most understanding and considerate voice that I could muster:

"Anything for you, dear brother. Anything for you..."

I reached out for the fruit knife I placed on the side cabinet with one hand, and mussed on his long hair with the other, snickering as Vash grumbled loudly about how I should not threat him like a kid. Well, I can only do so for that one last time...

I was more than happy to oblige to his request.

I smirked.

The plan is now in motion.

----------------

TURN TO THE NEXT EPISODE.

----------------