"...which leads me to the conclusion, you must have in the bulb for a time after birth. We had been promptly removed, but if you'd been left inside you could have adapted to the environment, developed the angel-like characteristics; one could also assume the gate would travel toward the spine. The implications are fascinating, don't you think, brother?"

Vash stared at the distance through his orange-tinted glasses. "Mm Hmm," Vash mumbled back. He wiped the sweat away from his forehead with his sleeve.

"Well, I think it's plausible, though in what timeline...At what age were you extracted? From the bulb?"

She walked several steps ahead of them, focused on the sands. "What does it matter?"

Vash held his hands up, cautioning. "Knives, it's rude to pry."

"I don't see why. At what age?"

She shook her head. "Didn't have a calendar in there."

"So you remember it. You'd be several months, at least. Could you approximate your age to a human, at the time you were removed?"

"This high," she responded simply, holding her palm up at her side, to just above her waist.

"Most of a year. Plenty of time for the gate to move, but not enough to change you completely. I'm guessing, of course, but that explains it."

Vanessa shed her cloak as they had hours ago, and tucked it under a strap on her pack. "And what is a gate."

"The source of our power. Here." He pointed at his left forearm but she wasn't looking. "Look, it's here," he repeated with forced patience. She finally glanced over her shoulder at his gesture, and turned away again, before he continued. "It's small enough to rest between the bones here. The angels have them at their spines, where it's manifested as physiology decidedly not human. Regardless, yours is beside your spine, so-"

"So, it was in my arm when I was born but it moved to my back because I was-"

"Becoming an angel." Knives reflected on that before continuing. "What you called a hump was actually a component to the gate."

She shrugged her bag off one shoulder and reached past her neck, fingers searching her skin.

"Your gate is not intact," Knives murmured sadly. He sounded as though delivering very horrible news.

Vanessa kept trying to feel for something like a gate.

"Yours is here..." Knives directed, stepping closer to her. He reached out a hand to touch, but Vash nudged it away, shaking his head. "Between and below the shoulder blades, on the right side. Lower. Closer to the vertebrae. Yes. There."

She pressed her fingers into a fleshy lump, moving it around slightly a few times before she was satisfied and slid her arm back under her bag's strap. "My broken 'gate'."

Knives knotted his brows, clearly troubled at her handicap. However, he said nothing, likely weighing an egotistic rant against the probability of upsetting or angering her if he did.

"Enlighten me on how your...'gate' works,"she asked, "what can y-"

"We can do things we aren't going to do," Vash snapped, harsher than he'd meant, but his face started to burn thinking with the memory of what they'd done.

She continued, her tone uncertain given Vash's retort, "What could you do, then, though?"

"The gate is an organ that allows us to create and destroy outside of the classic 'rules' of physics. "Knives' eyes met Vash's. "My blades' range is...approximately..." He trailed off under his brother's bitter gaze.

"I sure am thirsty, who's thirsty," Vash declared. He dropped his pack and loosened a canteen. He sipped a little water, then passed it to Vanessa. She took a mouthful and passed it back, leaving Vash to hand the thing to his brother.

"I am glad that we found her, that she's with us now."

Vash ignored his brother's telepathy. He checked the packs on the toma as a distraction.

"I have much to teach her. She has much to teach me," Knives continued, handing the half-empty canteen back to his brother.

Frowning, Vash still said nothing. As he offered water to the toma, Vash heard in his head very clearly, "Her breasts..."

Vanessa'd crouched, tipped her head back, arms up, hands busy pinning her hair up and away from her sweaty skin.

Vash shot back telepathically, "Stop looking."

"You are looking."

Dropping his gaze to the sand, Vash replied silently, "I shouldn't have either."

Knives' laughter sounded in his brother's head, causing Vash to rub his hand over his face and add, "I've seen breasts on women that make hers seem like nothing. This one lady, she had 'em the size of-"

"Perhaps we have different taste. Are there human women with such perfect form, silken hair, aquatic depth to their eyes?"

"My brother, the poet? Plants - we're light-eyed, we're fair-haired, we're so much the same. You're admiring the female version of yourself. There are women with dark skin and hair who are so lovely you lose yourself in their deep, dark eyes."

"Then, you can have them. It's bestiality, so I cannot condone it. But, if you have needs you cannot control, so be it."

Vash struggled with a response. Before he could form one, Vanessa had pulled on her pack, and began walking, not so far out this time. They followed.

After a time, Vanessa broke the silence. "So, you both have a gate organ in your arm that makes blades?" she asked, pointing at Vash's gloved, wrapped arm.

"Not exactly," Vash explained. "This one's not real."

"That's a prosthetic?" Her sudden, honest excitement shocked him, as she grabbed for and pressed her hands into his arm. "I've seen this arm with the wrappings gone; it looks like a regular arm." Fingers finding the metal interruption just below his shoulder, she tugged at his sleeve. "Can I see the connection? Who made this?"

Vash unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away from his shoulder so she could see the prosthetic base for a moment. He'd have appreciated her enthusiasm more, but he was shy of undressing even slightly, not to mention terribly self-conscious. "It attaches right here. There's a ship still flying, and there are people there who-"

"We should go there!" she interrupted, squeezing his fake arm hopefully.

"Sorry, no," Vash replied, making haste to button his shirt closed.

"Aren't you going to ask how he acquired the scars?" Knives insisted. The sight of his brother's skin had darkened his mood.

"Well, they're from past injuries, obviously," she snapped dismissively. "I'm more interested in prosthetic design, at the moment."

Knives' face took on a very serious expression. "The sickening roadmap of his scars...you should hear the horrors they've done; you should see them all."

"Please let's not talk about my scars," Vash cut in plaintively.

They ignored him. "Saw plenty of them while stitching up that stab wound his sweet brother gave him."

Knives lifted his chin defiantly. "That was from me, but the rest were from the humans. They carved their hate into his body. It takes the breath away, to see it."

Vanessa continued to avoid Knive's gaze, turning to Vash abruptly. "So, this ship where they made this, why not visit? I want to know how a prosthetic like-"

"No," Vash replied with a forced smile. "We can't go there. Knives would not be welcome."

"Why not?" she asked.

"He and his wronged them greatly," he answered quickly. "We'll need to find our own way. Sure is a hot day."

Pressing her lips together, Vanessa stood there a moment more, fingers tickling her book. When she finally turned to continue their trek, she kept further ahead than before. Vash breathed relief. Dodging bullets he could do; dodging conversations had become trying.

OXO

They passed the late day with few words. Vanessa didn't complain, but Vash noticed the way she was dragging her feet, the difficulty she began to have to walk in a straight line. He wondered if she had a concussion, and convinced his brother that they should set up camp early. He dug out something for them all to eat while Knives and Vanessa rested on the flat plane of sand. As the first sunset, Vanessa curled up on her bag and, though she struggled against her blinking eyes, she fell asleep as the sky lit up red. The few loose strands of her hair fell over her eyes and moved slightly with her breath.

The twins sat, chewing at dried food. Knives pulled out the sleeping bags, upon second sunset, and Vash dug out his cloak. She'd be cold soon, without any cover. When Vash tiptoed toward her, Knives tossed his own cloak to Vash. He carefully draped them over her and stepped back toward his brother. Satisfied, they lay down to sleep.

OXO

The desert that night was without a breeze, silent. So silent, that Vash woke to the crisp sound of a book page turn. It was not quite morning, but she knelt nearby with her book open in the crook of her arm.

"Is your 'epic disagreement' that he's killed some people, before, is that all?" Vanessa asked, eyes shining in the five moons' light.

"That's not all, but it's plenty," He sat up, drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. "You going to wake me with an inquisition every day?"

"So what else is it, that there's more people he wants to kill? Revenge, for what someone did to you?"

"Me and us." He looked over his shoulder to confirm that Knives was still asleep. "He'd have killed all of them but I interfered. He hates what humans have done to our species since the beginning."

"Our species as in-"

"Us, and all the plants in bulbs-"

"Well, they have to live in there. So, what is there to be angry about?"

Vash shook his head. "It's a long, long, long story. It would take...days...to explain everything."

"By all means, try. But do it without exaggerating. Kill them all? What, did he have an army?"

"In a matter of speaking, he did. I'm not exaggerating." His vision blurred as he felt tears well up, and he cleared his tightening throat to keep himself level. "When our...'ability' is on...full display...we're more like natural disasters than people."

"You mean what that insurance company called you, 'humanoid typhoon'? That's a joke."

"It's not even slightly funny. It's true. To my great shame, it's entirely true." He sniffed.

"It's tough to swallow," she muttered, though her tone wasn't entirely without sympathy. She shifted her book to her other arm. "Would I believe you if you told me everything? Start from the beginning?"

"I don't know..." Speaking in a louder tone, Vash responded, "Should I begin with our life on S.E.E.D.S.?" He watched the slow, calm rise and fall of his brother's chest.

"Is that what the wrecked ships - Wait, are you older than The Fall?"

"I would imagine Knives would like to help me explain..."

"I'd rather hear it from you."

"Which is why the sound of us talking isn't waking him up." Vash sighed. "You did the same thing to me back at the house, didn't you?"

She said nothing.

"I get it. I mean, you're not hurting anybody, right? So, I'm not going to stop you. Or take the book away. Better not use that on me anymore, though, and better keep it a secret from Mr. Personality."

"That would be best," she agreed grimly. "But I need to understand what's going on here. What's at stake. I'll wake him when you've finished explaining it to me."

"'Days'" I said."

She shrugged. "He'll wake several sunrises from now, hungrier than usual but none the wiser."

"No." He let an exasperated huff. "You can't keep using your book on him. Whatever you call it, you can't keep doing this; he'll figure it out."

"If I don't when will I ever get straight answers from you? I'm clueless and I'm scared but you make it sound like I should be more scared for the world than for myself. I'm trying to believe you but...Sure, I can do some things that defy belief, and I've seen how your 'abilities' can be formidable in close proximity, but something more? Bombs, lackeys, is that how he leveled July? He's an abusive bigot with magic knife-hands. Without followers and explosives, how dangerous can he really be. That's the problem, Vash; what you've told me so far doesn't make logical sense. The scale of it."

Vash frowned, rubbing his temples as he mulled over how to respond. "Maybe I can show you." Crawling out of his sleeping bag, he gestured toward a cliff edge not far away. "Out of sight, over there."

"A demonstration of super-powers?"

"Not the weapon, it's something else we can do, with memories. He'll wake up when I do it, probably, but I don't want him to know how. No." Stopping himself, Vash crossed his arms and turned back. "Nevermind, this is a bad idea. I'll tell you. It'll just take time."

"There's a shortcut and you're hesitating? I want this to make sense. Now." She walked to the cliff edge and hopped down onto the sand below.

"I'm not eager to do this because I have very little experience with it. They're just memories but that doesn't make it safe. Once, I did this to Meryl. There was an accident. My feathers-"

"Feathers? Actual feathers?" she asked, incredulous.

"Sort of. These 'feather' things, when they come in contact with someone else, it transfers memories instantaneously, and-"

"This sounds like mind control," she interrupted, resting her hand on her holstered book.

"It isn't. Just sharing. But sharing painful things? Meryl got...stuck that way. She was just about traumatized by it."

"I daresay I can handle it. Go ahead, do it."

He pulled his hand away, frowning. "This might hurt. You might regret it."

"I won't."

Vash sighed, and pivoted to put his back against wall of the cliff. "Hold onto my arm. No, the fake one. I want you to let go, and I'll let you fall backward onto the sand, when you want to stop. You just, let go. Okay?"

"Right."

Taking one long breath in and out, Vash began to concentrate. It wasn't hard to open his gate, but once open it took a great deal of focus to control. He held his arm out, away from her, as glowing feather-like things snaked out of the skin of his fingertips. Once he'd formed a few, and he was confident he could keep it stable, he drew out the few, specific memories he would show to her, and he raised his hand to her face.

OXO

Knives' eyes shot open. Remembering where he was, processing the feeling that had woken him, he saw that he was alone, and he called out with great concern, "Vash!"

"Over here! Everything's fine."

"Where is she..." Knives climbed up from the ground and walked toward his brother. He halted when he saw her climb the rocky edge to the flat on which he stood. "What happened?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Vash explained, "She wanted to see what my arm thing looked like. Sorry it woke you."

"You showed her? Good. She's not hurt?"

Vanessa trudged past, not looking up. She stepped over to her bag and curled up beside it.

"She's fine. Let's rest for the last hour of dark," Vash suggested, climbing back into his sleeping bag.

Knives nodded, settling back into his sleeping bag. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Vanessa hid her face in the cloaks.