The whole world spun when Knives woke. He was surprised to find himself loosely covered by the faded green tarp. He was still on the cart and it was still rocking gently. He pushed the tarp off and immediately threw up over the edge.
"Dammit." Kira put the crutch in place and hurried to his side, grabbing a waterskin and handing it to him. "Here. Drink this."
He took a sip and leaned back with a moan. The suns were nearly halfway across the sky. It was late morning. "You walked all night?"
"Yes. Now, a little more." She nudged the waterskin, imploring him to drink.
"Why?"
"Because we need to get you to a doctor. You probably have a concussion and we need to make sure its not worse than that. Plus I don't want to run the risk of you developing an infection too." She tapped the waterkin. "Keep working on this. If you need shade use the tarp."
She walked to the front and began trudging forward again. Knives' head was throbbing and the blow to his back had left a persistent ache along his left shoulder blade. The fucking bastard. He missed the days when he could simply repair any minor damage to himself in seconds. His body should still heal faster than a human's, even without the gate's energy. At least he hoped it did…
After his pathetic display the previous night, he wasn't entirely sure what to expect of himself. He should have been able to block the attack. If not the first, then definitely the second. Hell—he should have taken control of the bastard along with that other disgusting piece of trash. He had been… distracted.
Luckily, Kira didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual. It had all happened so quickly, he wasn't surprised. The man hadn't been under his control for more than a second or two… only long enough for Knives to force him to remove his hands and take a step back. He wished he'd had another second. He would have enjoyed forcing the vermin to claw out his own eyes…
Though Kira probably would have noticed that.
A sudden throbbing at his temple forced him to set his thoughts aside. Agonizing over 'should haves' wouldn't do him any good. All he could do was deal with the situation at hand—and right now he needed more rest. He got as comfortable as he could and covered himself with the tarp before closing his eyes and trying to return to the merciful oblivion. Thankfully, it didn't take long.
x.x.x.x.x
They were still moving when he woke again. The suns were low. Had he slept all day? Had she been going all day? He pushed the tarp back off and took a drink of water. The sound of his movement caused her to cast a glance over her shoulder. She looked exhausted. Her brown hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. She hadn't even bothered to put on her turban. "How are you feeling?" she called out as she continued walking.
He felt like shit but he was more concerned for her at the moment. She was pushing herself too hard and it wouldn't do either of them any good if she drove herself into the ground. "Better. You should rest for a bit."
"Don't worry about me. You need to eat something."
The thought of eating anything made his stomach queasy. She looked back and frowned when he didn't move to the rations.
"Come on—just a little. Please."
Knives pursed his lips but fished one of the protein bars out of the pack, nibbling at it lightly. For once he was grateful for the lack of flavor.
They continued on. He thought about offering to walk but the waves of nausea that rolled through him every time he moved convinced him otherwise. He put a hand to his head and was surprised to find a bandage there. When the suns reached the horizon he forced himself to sit, albeit groggily.
"Aren't we going to stop for the night?"
"Nope. We're almost there. Just try to rest."
"What about you?"
"I'll sleep later," she answered dismissively.
The little fool was going to hurt herself. "Wait," he growled. "Let me walk. I need to stretch my legs." It wasn't entirely false—he did want to stretch. He just hoped he wouldn't be sick because of it. Another bout of nausea hit him when he stood, but he was able to breathe through it and began walking slowly beside Kira. She did seem to have a little more energy without his extra weight in the cart.
The light was fading quickly. "How long before we arrive?" he asked.
"Not long… You want to rest again?"
"No. But it'll be dark soon."
"Well, we have lanterns now," she said with a humorless laugh. "There's still a little kerosene left in them. At least some good came out of last night." For a brief moment her face crumpled and she looked as though she might cry, but she quickly shook it off and let out a slow breath.
So… the experience had affected her. He'd wondered…
"We'll take you to the doctor first," she said evenly, "then I'll go to the sheriff or whoever and let them know where those to look for those men."
He stared at her in utter disbelief. "You cannot be serious," he finally said, trying to keep the bite from his tone.
"We need to tell someone. Maybe they came from Caston and—"
"Kira." Knives gave her a demanding look. "You will not speak to anyone about this, do you understand me?"
A spark of anger flickered in her eyes—she clearly didn't like being ordered around. It quickly subsided into exhausted uncertainty. "But… we can't just leave their bodies there…"
"Yes! We can!" he snapped. "Listen to me…" He let out a heavy sigh. Calm and composed. He needed to steer her back towards that mental state. "I am asking you to do this—for my sake." He hoped playing on her sense of duty would work. If she was softhearted like his brother, this was the best strategy to get what he wanted. "If you speak to the authorities, they will detain you and question you, and will probably want to question me as well. You'd put us both at risk. There is a chance you'd be imprisoned and that my identity would be revealed. I cannot remain with you if you choose this path, and I… I need your help," he growled, frustrated at having to admit it openly. "You would put me into a very difficult situation, so… please. Do not do it. Those men deserved what they got. Just leave it at that."
She stared at him in contemplative silence before offering a defeated nod. Her face twisted again for a moment but she let out another slow breath and continued forward, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
x.x.x.x.x
Dusk gave way to night, covering the land in deep blues and purples and forcing Kira to light the lanterns. Soon, distant lights began twinkling on the horizon. "That's it," Kira said in a light, almost cheerful tone, although Knives was sure it was simply a defensive façade. "There was a doctor in town last time I was here. Hopefully they haven't left."
He could care less about the damn doctor. He was just ready to be off his feet. He refused to sit in the cart again but his head and body were making him pay for it.
They trudged onward and gradually the lights grew into buildings. The town was bigger than Knives had expected, and there were enough lights in various windows to confirm that a decent number of people still remained. The doctor's office was easy to find, centrally located in the town square, but it was dark. Luckily, a soft glow from the living quarters above signaled that someone was probably still awake. Kira pounded loudly on the door and a porch light switched on. A disagreeable looking old man in his pajamas answered the door.
"I'm sorry—my office is closed until morning."
"Please, sir. My friend and I were attacked yesterday on our way into town. They hit him in the head pretty hard. He may need stitches and I'm worried that his skull might have been fractured or something. Please. Can you help us?"
The man eyed Knives and grumbled something unintelligible but gestured them inside. He led them through a small waiting room to a larger examination room filled with cabinets, cupboards and various medical instruments. He sat Knives down on a chair and began unwrapping the bandage. He grunted when he saw the gash. "They got you pretty good, huh? Looks like you tried to clean it?" He cast his gaze to Kira.
"As much as I could. I don't really have the right supplies," she answered tiredly.
"Well, you'll definitely need a few stitches. It doesn't look like an infection has set in. I'll need to do an x-ray to look for further damage. Assuming it's nothing too bad, I can clean it and stitch it up tonight. How long will you be in town?"
"Uh, I hadn't really thought about it."
"Well, I wouldn't recommend travelling with a wound like this, but you nomads rarely listen to a damn thing I say. I can sell you some antibiotic salve that should keep the infection away… You can pay for all of this, right?"
"Uh, yeah. I can."
"Hm…" The man looked suspiciously at them but began working on Knives. "You're awfully quiet, boy."
Knives tried to contain his irritation. He did not like this human. "Would my speech somehow assist you in performing your task more proficiently? OUCH!" He scowled as the doctor roughly wiped a swab across the gash.
The man grinned maliciously. "Didn't realize you were such a delicate fellow…"
Knives clenched his jaw. Hard.
"Will this take long?" Kira asked. "I need to see if we can get a room at the inn."
"You'll have time. Just don't spend too much money over there—you need to pay me first."
She walked out the door leaving Knives alone with the cantankerous bastard.
"She seems like a nice girl."
"She is."
"Which way are you two headed?"
Knives paused, suspicious of the old codger. Still, there was only one fully operating city left—the man had probably already guessed their destination. "Octovern."
"Ah, my son lives there now. He wasn't up to returning after the war. But I couldn't leave my house abandoned. Too many memories." He stood, gesturing to Knives. "Come with me."
He led Knives into an adjacent room containing an ancient-looking machine hooked up to a similarly ancient-looking computer and forced the plant to kneel while he captured the necessary x-rays. Knives was actually surprised—computers were a rarity outside of the cities. The doctor proceeded to analyze the images on the screen, his mouth pushed into a sour glower. He finally seemed satisfied and let out a huff, as he led Knives back his seat in the first room.
The doctor meandered through the space, fishing through drawers and cupboards and assembling an arsenal of supplies on a small metal cart before pulling up a chair in front of Knives and sitting stiffly. "You have a small fracture, but it should heal itself. Now brace yourself, this is gonna sting." He pierced Knives' skin with needle, causing the plant to grit his teeth, and injected an anesthetic before threading a curved needle nimbly. Knives felt an odd tugging a moment later as the old man began sewing the skin closed. He finished up in silence before clipping the thread and wrapping a layer of bandaging over the wound with a thin smile.
"All done." He glanced at the door. "I imagine your friend will be back soon."
As if she'd been called, Kira walked in breathlessly. "Sorry! That took longer than I thought it would. Are you finished?"
"Yup. He's patched up and good to go. Also, here's that salve for you, and some bandages," he said, handing her the items. After listening to limited instructions on how to take care of the wound and what to watch out for, Kira paid the man, who mumbled a gruff 'thanks,' and pulled Knives out the door.
"Come on. We have a room over here." She walked quickly down the street into the warmly lit inn. A woman at the counter inside ignored them as they passed and Kira led Knives up a flight of stairs and into one of the doors. "Tada!" She ran over and flung herself backward on one of the two beds in the room. "Ah… mattresses."
Knives couldn't help but raise a brow at her obvious glee. He was glad her mood seemed to have brightened, at least for the moment.
"We also have a bathroom with a shower." She sat up. "Actually, I could really use one of those. Unless you wanna go first?"
"No. Go ahead."
With that, she disappeared through a door and he could hear the sound of running water. She had set his pack on his bed. He pushed it out of the way and lay down. She was right—it felt amazing. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the water turn off and Kira walked out wrapped in a towel.
"I… forgot my bag," she mumbled awkwardly. "Shower's yours, if you want it. They have a laundry room downstairs so if you wanna leave your clothes in a pile, I can take care of that. You don't have anything else to wear, right?"
"Not really."
"Uh… I guess you can hide under the covers. Just let me know when you're about to come back out and I'll close my eyes or something." She turned away and put a hand over her eyes.
Knives stripped down quickly and piled all of his clothes beside the bathroom door, then went inside and turned the shower on. He glanced at himself in the mirror and was shocked by how horrible he looked. The gash must have bled more than he realized—a dark reddish smudge ran down the side of his face. Kira must have cleaned him a little when she bandaged him up. The skin along his shoulder blade was also more deeply bruised than he expected, but it would heal.
He removed the bandaging around his head and stepped into the shower. The blast of hot water was invigorating, rinsing a thick layer of grit and grime from his skin. Kira had left the soap on the edge of the bathtub for him and he began lathering enthusiastically. He was eager to finally be clean again. It was strange to think that this was the first time he'd really bathed since he'd come back to life. After scrubbing the soap into his hair, he rinsed and took a moment to luxuriate under the streaming water before wrapping it up and exiting the shower. He dried off with one of the towels, careful not to brush his stitches, replaced the bandage and knocked on the door. "I'm coming out."
"Okay," called a muffled voice.
Kira was sitting on her bed, her hand over her eyes again. She must've begun the laundry because his clothes were missing. He quickly walked past her and ducked under the blankets.
"You covered?" she asked.
"Yes."
She lowered her hands and turned to him, instantly breaking into an amused smile and shaking her head. "We need to get you some clothes. You don't even have a pair of pajamas, do you? Or underwear."
"I didn't think to grab any," he muttered.
She let out and aggravated sigh, her expression somewhere between confused and annoyed, and flopped backwards on her bed. "I really hate knowing so little about you."
He stared at her thoughtfully. They still had a long way to go before they reached Octovern and he needed to be able to control her effectively without her knowing he was controlling her. Encouraging her to feel a personal connection to him was clearly in his best interest. Giving her a carefully edited version of his motivation couldn't hurt. "… I'm trying to find my brother. That's why I'm going to Octovern. It seems like a good place to start looking."
She lifted her head, staring for a moment, then sat up. "You lost him in the war?"
"Something like that… I left him." Knives felt his heart clench as the full magnitude of what he'd done hit him. He'd been so selfish. "He was injured, but he was being cared for by a doctor and his son. We weren't on the best of terms and I thought he'd be better off without me… I never even said goodbye."
Kira chewed on her lip. "Is he older or younger?"
"Twin, actually," he said with a faint smile. "Although technically I'm older."
"… Why are you returning now?"
"It was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that to him." Among other things…
"Do you think he'll be angry? That you left?"
"I have no idea. If he'd left me like that, I'd be furious. But… he's much more forgiving than I am."
"I hope you find him," she said earnestly. "And I hope he understands."
A heavy silence filled the air. There wasn't much else she could say and he didn't feel like revealing any more than he had. At least she wasn't peppering him with questions. He wasn't sure why he'd told her even that much, but thinking of Vash did remind him of something that he'd been wondering about. "Last night… with those men…"
She stared down at her hands; the brightness she'd regained was gone. "Yeah?"
He frowned, unsure of precisely what he wanted to ask her. He'd assumed she was like his brother—the pacifistic type who would never take a life—but it had taken very little to drive her to it. She certainly wasn't a killer, like the Gung-Ho-Guns, so what was she? "Why did you do it?"
"I… didn't know what to do… I thought he was going to kill you."
"Have you done that before?"
"… Yes. Once. During the war."
"What happened?"
She looked up; her eyes dull. Her gray gaze soon fell to the floor and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. "… When the rioting started we stored as much food and water as we could and hid in the cellar. A man broke in and when my mom asked him to leave and he shot her." She took a shaky breath. "My dad tackled him and the guy dropped his gun, so I grabbed it… They were fighting… I thought he was going to kill dad too…"
Of course. She'd already been pushed to the edge. It was easier after the first time. She was staring blankly and he suddenly realized just how tired she looked. And now she was staying awake to finish their clothes while he interrogated her about the people she'd murdered. He frowned.
"You need to sleep," he commanded.
She looked up, startled. "… After I'm done—"
"No—now! You look exhausted. I'll finish the laundry."
"But… you're hurt. And you don't have any…" She blushed at his implied nudity.
"I'll manage. Now sleep!"
She opened her mouth, as if to argue, but closed a moment later it in acceptance. She climbed under the covers and pulled them up to her chin with a sigh, closing her eyes. Gradually her breathing became slow and even. He let his eyes linger on her still form.
The little fool… She'd been useful far beyond his expectations, and he was surprised to find that he was actually beginning to enjoy her company. It had been somewhat cathartic, telling her about Vash. A part of him wished he could reveal more to her, but it wasn't worth the risk. If she discovered who he was, it would surely be the end of her assistance. He needed to tread very carefully.
He finished up their laundry with a towel wrapped around his waist. Thankfully the inn was quiet and the woman at the front seemed oblivious to anything but the book she was reading. Once the clothes were dry, he put some pants on and carried the rest of them up to the room. Kira didn't even budge when he entered. He folded them and made a pile for himself and a pile for her, then sat on his bed watching her again. He shook his head and lay down, turning off the small lamp on the nightstand. He felt strangely cold, lying alone.