Bright sunlight filled the room when Kira woke the next morning. The warmth and softness of the bed did little to make up for the plague of nightmares she'd endured. Images of blood spattered, cackling men tore at her mind, allowing her little rest. She let out a slow breath and tried to push the memories away—the feel of the gun kicking in her hand; the choked sound of surprise from the man who'd grabbed her leg; the sight of blood pooling into the sand as she retrieved the dropped lanterns.
She had made peace with her choice to shoot the man who attacked Knives, but the other one… He was unarmed. She could have tried to scare him off. But everything had escalated so quickly—and then it was done. Her body had reacted before she had a chance to think.
She let out another slow breath, and once again pushed the memories away. It was over. She'd told Knives she wouldn't go to the authorities, and she was going to keep her word. She understood his concern. He needed her. She couldn't let herself wallow in guilt. She had to take care of him. And that meant getting out of bed, finding him, and finally tracking down the supplies he lacked.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. To her surprise, Knives was standing at the window staring out at the town. He'd been so quiet that she thought she was alone.
"Morning," she called out lightly.
"Good morning," he said softly, his eyes focusing on hers.
She looked away, her gaze meandering over the comforter—an overwrought design of flowers and ribbons. "Have you eaten?"
"No… I don't know where you stowed the cart. And I didn't want to risk going in search of it."
"Oh shit!" She jumped out of bed in search of some clothes. "I didn't even think… What time is it?" she said, glancing at a clock on the wall across the room. Almost noon. He must be starving. Why didn't he wake her? "The cart's locked up in the stable out back, but I'm not sure if the innkeeper would let you have the key without me there. Regardless, I'm sure you're as sick of protein bars as I am. I'll get you a disguise really quick, then we can find some food."
x.x.x.x.x
Kira trotted through the streets and soon located the general store. So now all she had to do was grab a few things that would hide a tall, ridiculously good-looking man with a noticeably aloof personality in plain sight… Great. She wished she could see his poster to know what the hell she was working with. A trio of cowboy hats behind the counter caught her eye and she directed the clerk to a generic looking beige one. A pair of black sunglasses completed the 'disguise' and she raced back to the hotel to show her criminal.
Knives looked at her purchase disgustedly. "I hate hats."
"Oh, for fuck's sake." She shoved it into his hands.
He gave her a hard look but affixed it to his head and donned the glasses as well.
She smiled approvingly. "Now let's find some real food."
x.x.x.x.x
After gorging on a meal of fresh fruits, vegetables and deliciously cooked sausages and eggs with toast at a nearby café, they sought out the first item on Kira's list: a new pair of boots for Knives. She had to ask for directions before they found the cobbler, but luckily he was unoccupied. He quickly took Knives' measurements and assured them that the boots would be ready in four days. Kira thanked the man and pulled Knives back out into the street.
"Guess we're stuck here for a while," she said, hoping that her relief wasn't too apparent. She knew Knives was in a hurry, but she wanted to give his wound a few days to heal before they headed out anyway.
"Guess so," he muttered.
"Well, since we're stuck here anyway, we might as well try to enjoy it."
He shrugged and followed her wordlessly.
x.x.x.x.x
They spent the next several hours exploring the various shops Caston had to offer. Kira decided to sell the shotgun and lanterns, despite copious protests from Knives—she just couldn't stand having them around as a reminder of what had happened. She put the money towards all the basic necessities Knives required, including a decent wardrobe and a toothbrush. She had even splurged on shampoo, since they'd have access to running water for a few days at least. The only thing she couldn't find was the damn bedroll. Kira was in the middle of haggling with a merchant who assured her that the blanket he was trying to sell her was just as good, even though the thing was barely large enough to cover her, let alone Knives. She finally talked the man down to half the price and tucked her new blanket under her arm with a smug grin.
Now, where had Knives gone…? He couldn't have gotten far.
Sure enough, she found him half a block down the street staring at a sort of bulletin board where people occasionally posted jobs or advertisements. He reached up and ripped off a couple pieces of paper, folding them up and shoving them in his pocket.
"Alex." He jumped at her sudden intrusion, causing her to chuckle. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Did you find something?"
"No… It's nothing." He took a step back, his sapphire eyes glittering fiercely.
Realization dawned on her. Kira lowered her voice to a whisper, "Is it your poster…? Can I see it?"
"No."
"Aw, come on," she whined, nudging him lightly in the ribs.
"No!" he barked, startling her with his ferocity and drawing attention from a few nearby villagers. "Just drop it," he growled. "Please," he said, his tone easing.
"Okay…" she said, trying to quell her frustration.
x.x.x.x.x
They carried the small bundle of items up to the room. Kira tossed the useless blanket on top of her bag and Knives began shoving the clothes into his. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling uncomfortable and the tiniest bit pissed. "Look, I'm sorry that I pried. It's just… it's hard not to be curious. I want to help you—I really do—but I know there's a lot I'm missing."
Knives sighed and rubbed the back of his neck absently. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. You have every right to be curious. You'd be an idiot if you weren't, but… there are things I'm not ready to explain to you. Can you accept that?" Although it was technically a question, his stony gaze made it clear that there was only one correct answer.
He was starting to open up on his own. Demanding more information would most likely damage what little trust he had developed. "I can't promise I won't ask you any more questions, but I'll try not to push it. Okay?"
"Yes." He looked down, his lips curving slightly. "Thank you."
She walked over and tugged his shirt. "Come," she said lightly. "I should change your bandages." She sat him down on the bed and began removing the old gauze. Her eyes widened when it was off. "This is looking really good! It's already starting to close up," she said wonderingly. She could have sworn the doctor said it would take a week and a half.
"I've always healed quickly," he said, an especially pleased smile on his face.
"I can see that." She put a hand on his chin to hold his face steady and began gently dabbing more salve on the stitches. "Almost done," she murmured softly. She rewrapped the wound quickly but adeptly.
When she was finished she sat heavily on her bed. "I think I need a nap. I want to enjoy these mattresses as much as possible. You okay on your own?" He nodded and she curled up under her blankets with a sigh, her mind much more at peace than the previous night. Sleep soon found her.
x.x.x.x.x
When he was sure she was asleep, Knives reached into his pocket and pulled out the two wanted posters he taken from the board—one of Vash and one of himself. So his name and face were definitely out there. It was a decent likeness too. He crumpled the pages in his fist and swore. His only solace was that the posters were old and had been half-hidden under the various other flyers on the board. They must have been released right after he and Vash escaped.
He walked down to the lobby and threw the ball of paper in a trash bin where Kira wouldn't find it. He returned to the room and tried to rest, but his mind wouldn't remain still. Images of himself being captured by bounty hunters or the Earth Federation filled his head. At his best, he could control maybe five or six people at a time with his telepathy, but even that was a stretch. He wondered how Vash was handling all of this. It was unlikely that he'd hang out in the most populated city on the planet now that he was a wanted man again.
And why was he wanted? Surely the humans should be celebrating him as a hero after everything he'd done! He was their fucking savior! It didn't make sense. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop thinking about it. As much as he was warming up to Kira, he couldn't stand the hypocrisy of her race.
Then again… he was a hypocrite as well. He hated humans for the suffering they inflicted on the species around them. They were a plague, cruel and vicious. He'd always considered their deaths justified. He was protecting his sisters and brother. He was getting revenge for Tessla. He was preventing their spread across the universe. But these justifications didn't carry the strength they once had…
And in the end, he'd become every bit as cruel and vicious as the species he was trying to destroy. It was one thing to kill with a blade—quickly, almost painlessly—it was another to leave entire cities to waste away without food and water. Memories of Delnashville and the corpses strewn about the streets flashed through his mind. Kira had been there. She was one of those he'd left… to waste away…
He heard her soft breathing from across the room. She was sleeping deeply now.
She didn't deserve to suffer.
x.x.x.x.x
They spent the next few days relaxing to a ridiculous degree. Knives hadn't realized how much he needed it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so at ease. Certainly not since he'd come back… It must have been sometime before July.
After her nap, Kira had forced him to buy groceries with her since they would be staying for a few days and the inn had a small kitchen. She did all the cooking, and even though she wasn't particularly skilled, having anything fresh felt like a luxury. She'd also snuck a deck of cards in with the armful of food, and had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of various games they could play, so now that was how they spent most of their time.
When they grew tired of sitting, they took walks around the town. The irony that they were walking to relax from walking was not lost on him, but it was surprisingly enjoyable, except for the occasional Federation soldier who'd walk by. Kira was always quick to alert him if one was approaching.
As usual, she chatted while they walked and he gradually began taking a more active role in their conversations. She told him about her family and growing up in Delnashville. Her parents had both been doctors, but she had never wanted to be one. She had been studying to be a plant engineer, of all things, when the city had been attacked. Once the war was over, she didn't have the energy to continue her education. She told him a little about her two sisters, one older, one younger and about some of her memories from childhood and the trips the family had gone on. In exchange he told her a few slightly altered stories from when he and Vash were children.
She continued looking after his stitches. He probably could have done it himself, but he was entertained by her continued astonishment at how fast the wound was healing. On the fourth day, she took the bandage off and shook her head. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't think you need these stitches anymore. This thing is completely healed. We should have the doc take them out."
Knives pursed his lips—he didn't want to draw more attention. "Can't you do it?"
She frowned. "I guess… if you don't mind." She rummaged through her pack and pulled out the knife and cleaned it with some soap and water. "Hold still." She began cutting the thread and gently removed it. Within a few minutes she'd completed the task. She finished up, applying some salve to the thin pink line and took a step back to survey her handiwork. "I still can't believe how fast that healed. I don't think it's even going to leave a scar. I suppose we can head out tomorrow if you're feeling well enough?"
Knives perked up. As much as he appreciated the respite, he was ready to continue their journey. "I feel fine."
"Alright, lets make sure we're stocked up on supplies."
x.x.x.x.x
They'd already retrieved Knives' new boots that morning and were still unsuccessful in tracking down a bedroll, so after picking up the necessary food, water and a couple other goods, they returned to the inn.
If he was being honest, Knives didn't really mind that they hadn't managed to acquire a bedroll. He had rather enjoyed their cozy sleeping arrangement, and since it was his only option, he didn't have to analyze why he enjoyed it. Kira used up the last of their groceries for dinner and they afterward played a few rounds of cards before turning in.
x.x.x.x.x
Knives couldn't sleep. Memories of the two men who'd jumped them circled through his mind. They'd be at risk again out in the desert… not to mention the future danger of bounty hunters and soldiers. His telepathic manipulation obviously worked, but how well…
He needed to practice… to test it.
He listened to Kira's slow breathing in the next bed, ensuring she was asleep. He rose, careful not to wake her, and slipped out of the room. He'd need a subject. He peered down the stairwell at the woman reading behind the counter. She was a possibility, but… the experience would probably terrify her and he didn't want to risk her inadvertently waking Kira or possibly telling the girl about the experience.
He walked past her and out into the town. It was late and the streets were empty. Despite having a decent population, Caston was a quiet town. Once the suns set, the inhabitants mostly kept to themselves. Knives began a silent hunt, searching for anyone who wouldn't be noticed. He was slinking through an alley between two buildings when he spotted her—a young woman, maybe a few years older than Kira, doing dishes in her kitchen. He could see her clearly through the open window.
Yes. She'd do. He reached into her mind, forcing her to drop the plate she was holding back into the sink, where it fell with a splash. She gave a startled shriek and turned her head back and forth as if searching for the source of the sudden spasm. He grinned and stepped back into the shadows, making sure he was just out of view. He entered her again, forcing her to raise an arm, then the second one. Whimpering cries filled the air and he released her, hoping she'd quiet down. She dropped to her knees, cowering. That hadn't been too difficult, but trivial things were always easier to control than significant actions… and that's really what he needed this skill for.
He forced her to stand and took control of her mouth as well so her cries wouldn't rouse anyone. Now… what to do…? He glanced around the kitchen until his eyes landed on a door. That would work. He made her walk over, open it, and put her hand across the edge of the doorframe. Now, he'd just make her her slam it. That would be a good test.
She was pleading and praying inside her mind as he held her in position, one hand on the doorknob, the other splayed across the doorframe. His skin prickled as her fear flowed through him—it was separate from his own emotions, but still potent. That raw terror used to be one of his favorite parts of manipulating people, but tonight it made his stomach clench.
Still… He had to know whether or not he could accomplish this level of coercion. If he and Kira were attacked again, this was his only weapon. He had killed with this skill before, but that was a long time ago. He wasn't sure if his telepathy was as strong as it used to be. If the other mind fought back and his control slipped at the wrong moment… It could mean death for him. Or for Kira. He had to know what his limits were. He had to practice.
He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. It would be quick—just a broken hand. She'd recover.
Please, god. Please! Let me go. Please! Someone help me!
It would be quick.
He opened his eyes and stared at the woman, frozen and trembling. Trapped… She was no one. She may deserve this, for all he knew… Of course she did. She was vermin. She was trash. Her pain meant less than nothing!
He took a deep breath, tensing, his lips curled back in a snarl…
And released her. He exhaled and fell back against the wall, a sickness gnawing at him. He couldn't do it. She didn't deserve it. None of them had deserved it. The woman fell in a sobbing heap to the floor, crying out her thanks.
x.x.x.x.x
He crept slowly through the moonlit streets, lost in the churning tempest of his mind. Without his notice, his feet had carried him back to the inn. He walked past the oblivious woman at the front desk and slipped into the room where Kira was sleeping. Once safely inside, he sank to the floor, his back against the door, and buried his head in his arms. The things he'd done… all the things he'd done. He'd always thought he was right—that he had a good reason—but now he wasn't sure. He felt doubt grip him but he pushed it away with a shuddering growl.
A sleepy voice touched his ears. "What's going on?" Kira sat up, rubbing her eyes. When she saw him on the ground, she jumped out of bed and ran over, kneeling beside him. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he hissed, pushing her away. He stood and went to his bed, sitting with his back to her.
"It's… it's not nothing!" A note of anger colored her voice.
He didn't respond. There was no point. She didn't know. She couldn't understand. What if he'd been wrong? He knew he'd made mistakes, but… but what if it was more than that? What if his entire way of thinking was flawed? The rest of the world seemed to think so. The angels did. Vash did.
And if it was? If all of his actions were based on a faulty logic…? And all the people he'd…
He'd been so sure that he was making the right choice—the only choice. He'd reveled in their deaths. After the fall. After each town he had slaughtered. And then, when he'd taken the angels, he rejoiced in the idea that so many horrible people would be cleansed from the planet. He had decided that sacrificing a few innocent lives in the process was worth it.
He was not a fool. He'd never tried to argue that every single human was evil—just that humanity, as an entity, was a selfish, destructive force. He knew that within that force there were some kind, altruistic, innocent beings. It was a simple matter of probability. A few of them…
How many was 'a few?' He'd always buried that question deeply in the recesses of his mind. How many was 'a few?' Tens? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?
If he'd been wrong—if the 'few' had been the majority…
No. No… he couldn't be. He couldn't be wrong! He just… couldn't!
His breathing came hard and fast. Another fucking panic attack. He tried to force himself to relax, to take deep, slow breaths, but his body wouldn't obey. He was gasping. Choking. His eyes were wide, as he took frantic, heaving, useless breaths. His world was crashing down around him, swallowing him up.
A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a warm body. Back into reality. "It's okay… It's okay. Breathe with me. In…" He felt Kira's chest rise behind him. "Out…" Her chest fell slowly. "In…" He tried to match her breathing. "Out…" He continued on with her, feeling her breaths and trying to keep her pace. He closed his eyes and let himself relax into her. She continued to whisper softly and soothingly, her lips close to his ear, her breath tickling his neck. After a few minutes she moved away, releasing him, but continued to stroke his back gently.
He felt better—calmer—but very unsatisfied at the same time. He wanted to feel her holding him again, to feel the heat that she provided. Her hand on his back only served to fuel the need inside of him. He hadn't experienced that kind of tenderness since he was a child with Rem and Vash. Even when he'd been connected with the angels, he'd kept himself at a distance lest he lose himself in their shared consciousness.
Could he allow himself to find comfort like this? Granted, he'd been doing it since the day he met her, but this was different—more overt. This wasn't just seeking solace in a nameless, faceless presence. This time, he was finding comfort in her. In Kira. His hatred for the humans had died a great deal, but he wasn't sure he was ready to accept one like this. There was a big difference between enjoying Kira as a travelling companion and thinking of her as… well, more than a travelling companion.
She stopped stroking his back and stood. "We should get to sleep…"
"Yes," he murmured.
She returned to her bed as he climbed into his, pulling the blankets tightly around himself in a weak effort to replicate the feeling of her arms. At least now his mind was distracted.