It was over. He was… done. Garrow had won.
People he assumed were the techs sedated Knives and wrapped loose bandages around his eyes, but that was the limit of their efforts. Why should they bother trying to save his sight? After all, it didn't affect their work.
Days passed. He was fairly certain an infection had set in, and his body had little strength to fight it. The relentless pain in his eyes, the fever raging through his skull, and the subsequent nausea it induced robbed him of his appetite, which only exacerbated the problem. Most of the time he left his trays of food untouched. He wondered if they'd force-feed him eventually. If they planned to, they'd better do it soon. He wouldn't last much longer…
Not that he cared. It didn't matter anymore. There was no point. He'd never get out of this fucking place. How could he? He was ready for it to end…
He felt a little guilty that he was letting Vash and Kira down, but… they would understand.
He'd never see them again. He almost laughed at the double meaning, but it came out as a soft moan. In a way, he was grateful they had never come for him. He could accept this fate, if it kept them from Garrow's clutches.
Still…
He missed them so much… so much…
He could hear the grating latch and a moment later the door groaned open. He waited for the clink of a food tray being set down, but it didn't come. Maybe they'd simply given up trying to feed him. Maybe they had obtained enough physical material and they didn't need him anymore.
"Knives."
The voice startled him—it was female. And the guards never spoke. And… the prickle of energy was familiar. It had to be…
"Chronica?"
He heard footsteps and felt a pair of hands fumbling with the cuffs on his wrists. "You must come with me, we don't have time." The cuffs clicked open and she pulled him to his feet. She began walking quickly, dragging him roughly behind her. "I looped the camera feeds and incapacitated the guards between us and our exit but we need to hurry—it won't take them long to notice, and there are more guards patrolling the halls. Can you run?"
"I… think so…"
"Good." She began jogging quickly, her hand wrapped around his arm. He tried to keep up with her pace but was surprised when fatigue set in almost instantly. Nevertheless, he refused to stop. He pushed forward with a determination he hadn't felt in weeks.
He followed doggedly, picturing the long halls in his head as they moved, until Chronica came to an abrupt halt. Knives heard the clink of a key in a lock followed by the groan of another heavy door. She tugged him forward and then grabbed his hand, putting it on something cold and metal.
"Stairs," she said brusquely.
He put a tentative foot out and began walking down, step by step, one hand gripped tightly to the railing, with Chronica holding on to his other arm. They continued down several flights until she stopped and he heard keys clinking again. There was a much deeper groaning sound—one of the exterior doors? He felt a breeze on his face and his heart began drumming rapidly. She pulled him forward and his bare feet met cool sand. He could hear an engine idling nearby and she led him towards it. He heard her pull open a door.
"Get in," she snapped, shoving him forward.
He climbed awkwardly into the seat of whatever vehicle they were escaping in and closed the door behind him. Chronica got in on the driver's side, slamming the door shut. She shifted into gear and the vehicle lurched forward.
They made it. He was out. It didn't seem real…
He swallowed thickly and tried to steady his breath. It came in ragged pants and he suddenly realized just how much energy the short escape had taken from him. He had been running on adrenaline, but now that it was fading, he was depleted. And really, really dizzy. Shit. He had overdone it.
He let out a soft grunt and leaned back, his head throbbing and his body shivering.
"What's wrong?"
He could hear Chronica's voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. Before he could reply, the exhaustion swallowed him up.
x.x.x.x.x
Knives jolted awake, his heart pounding. He ran his hand nervously over his surroundings: a knit blanket covering him, a pillow beneath his head, a plaster wall beside him. He let out a breath of relief. He wasn't in his cell. It hadn't been a dream.
He put a hand to his chest and felt a soft fabric shirt in place of his prisoner's uniform. Someone had changed his clothes? He placed a hand on his neck. The collar was still there… But the bandages covering his eyes felt different too. They were less stiff—probably freshly wrapped. He must have really overdone it if he managed to sleep through all of that.
He could hear someone breathing nearby. Asleep? He pushed himself into a seated position and the bed creaked beneath him. The breathing faltered and he heard the answering creak of a chair.
"Chronica…?" he ventured cautiously.
He heard a chuckle. "I'll be damned—you finally decided to come back to the land of the living. Chronica's downstairs with the others. I forced them to let me keep watch for a bit so they could get some air. You had a fever. You've been unconscious for three days. You're lucky that woman thought to bring one of the Federation's med kits or I'm not sure if you'd still be here."
That voice… it was oddly familiar. Masculine. But it wasn't Vash… "Do I know you?"
"Yes, you know me, although it's been a while. I wouldn't say we were close…"
The man was teasing him. His anger flared. "Who are you? Tell me."
"As demanding as ever. I'm Livio."
"Livio?" After a moment it clicked. "Double Fang?"
"It's Livio, now," he stated stiffly. "Double Fang died when Wolfwood did."
Right… He'd been sent along with Trip of Death to kill the priest. Knives knew that Double Fang and Chapel had some kind of history. Did the man want revenge? What if he and Chronica orchestrated this whole thing to take him out, once and for all?
"Where am I?" he growled. "What do you want with me?"
Livio laughed. "Take it easy, you're safe. We're in Jericho, a town just outside of Octovern. I work at an orphanage here. Your friends said you needed a place to hide and this house is in the middle of nowhere and has been empty since the war, so I figured it'd be a good fit."
"My… my friends?"
"Yeah, Vash and—"
"Vash?" His heart leapt at the name. "He's here?"
"Yup. He's out back. If you want, I can take you to him."
Knives nodded, suddenly unable to speak. He pushed the blanket aside and stood carefully, surprised at how unsteady he was. Livio gripped his arm and led him forward slowly.
Being in a new location was somewhat disorienting, but not unpleasant. There was a pleasant, almost floral scent to the air—maybe lavender? It was much better than the pervasive odor of mold and the latrine that he'd grown used to. Instead of the concrete, he felt wood beneath his feet. Livio guided him out of the bedroom, down a flight of stairs, and through another room… or rooms. It was hard to tell. He heard a door squeak open and felt warm rays of sunlight hit him although the air was still relatively cool.
He heard a gasp of surprise and was tackled in a rib-crushing hug.
"Vash!" Even without his sight, he could feel his brother's aura. He threw his arms around him, hanging on with everything he had. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. It was a dream. He'd wake up and he'd be alone…
"You're awake! Dammit Knives—we were so fucking worried about you!"
He clung tighter and could only smile at his brother's remonstration. "I'll try not to leave again. I promise."
Vash released him, sniffling. "You'd better not."
"Knives…"
He heard a soothing female voice behind him and his heart skipped a beat at the sound.
"… Kira." He turned and she wrapped her arms around his waist, her face pressed against his chest. He let out a shuddering breath and held her, trying to take in every sensation—her touch, her warmth, her smell. He tangled his fingers in her hair, enjoying how silky it felt. "Your hair's longer."
She laughed and leaned back. "Yours too. And a beard, huh? I thought you hated them."
"Didn't have much of a choice."
He felt her stiffen. "I'm sorry it took so long to get to you."
He pulled her close again, nuzzling the top of her head. "You're here now…"
Vash cleared his throat loudly. "Aaanyway… you should know, Chronica, Meryl, and Millie are here too. Knives…" His voice suddenly took on a strangely serious tone. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"
Knives let go of Kira and turned toward his brother's voice. "I'm… as good as can be expected. I'm… fine, really…" He put a hand absently to the bandage over his eyes.
"What happened?" Vash asked quietly.
Knives let out a humorless laugh. "I got in a fight and this was the end of it."
"You got in a—"
"Captain Garrow?" Chronica asked, cutting Vash off.
"Yes."
"Who's that?" Vash asked.
"He was the man in charge of overseeing me," Knives answered brusquely.
"He's the one who faked your death," Chronica murmured.
"Yes." Garrow. In all the commotion, he'd briefly forgotten about the man who nearly destroyed him. The man with the power to shape this new world as he saw fit. He was still out there. He was still a threat—to Knives and to anyone close to him… It was a sobering thought. But somehow, Chronica had outmaneuvered the captain. "How did you find me?"
"Garrow's guards aren't as loyal as he thinks," Chronica replied dryly. "What he did to you was illegal. It didn't take much pressure to convince one of them to cooperate with us. I told him the Federation was investigating Garrow's crimes, and that if he worked with us, I'd make sure he was pardoned. He knew where you were—brought us copies of the keys and everything. In a way, you're lucky you weren't still on one of the ships. The security in that 'new' facility is hilariously antiquated, like most of the architecture on this planet. I suppose it works to keep criminals in, but was child's play for someone of my skill to break you out, once we knew exactly where to find you."
"But, how did you know I was alive at all?"
"It was Vash," said Kira, jumping in. "He knew, right from the start. And the angels confirmed it."
"But Kira was the one who tracked down Chronica and convinced her to help us," Vash said quickly. "After Chronica found you, she and Kira planned the escape."
"But you had the idea of calling Livio. If it was just Chronica and I, we'd be camped out in the desert somewhere," Kira said with a laugh.
"Yeah, thanks for involving me," Livio said flatly.
"And I couldn't have found Chronica without Meryl and Millie's help… It really took everyone."
Knives suddenly felt overcome by the amount of effort that had gone into his rescue. "Thank you," he said softly. "I… I never… expected…" He felt a lump growing in his throat. "I'm grateful…" It was too much. The emotions he'd kept so deeply buried while he was in captivity were on the verge of spilling out in front of everyone.
His sorrow. His fear. His pain. He was trembling trying to push them back down.
"Hey." Kira put a hand on his back. "You want to come upstairs with me? I held onto your pack—your clothes are here if you want to change."
He felt a wave of relief. "Yes. I'd like that."
x.x.x.x.x
Kira took Knives by the hand and led him back into the house. He was clearly overwhelmed. It must be a lot to process, and after everything he'd been through…
"Thanks… for getting me out of there," he said.
"Yeah." She wasn't entirely sure if he meant the criminal facility or just now, although she suspected the latter. She began describing the house as they walked through it until they reached the bedroom. "Your room is the first door to the left if you're coming up the stairs. You'll be sharing with Vash. There's a bathroom to the left too… uh, across the hall from your room. You want me to run you a bath or something before you change?"
"Yes… please."
She left him beside his bed and trotted quickly to the bathroom to start the water before returning. He was moving along the wall, trailing his hand lightly over the various pieces of furniture when she returned. She felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. She'd seen his eyes the day he arrived, when Vash first changed the bandages. They were in pretty rough shape, and since he healed quickly, she suspected the injury had happened fairly recently, which meant he was still new to this situation. He was still adapting… She'd do whatever she could to make the transition as easy for him as possible. "I can trim your beard for you if you'd like? I don't think Vash'll care if we borrow his shaving kit."
"… Yes. Thanks."
She grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. He sat silently on the closed toilet while she clipped the mess of facial hair into something a little less chaotic. At least he didn't resemble his poster nearly as much now, not that anyone should be looking for him since most of the world thought he was dead. The bathtub was full by the time she was done and she turned it off before facing him again and clipping the last few stray hairs.
"There," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's good to see more of your face again." She left out the fact that his face looked rather gaunt without his unruly beard hiding it. "Alright, I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste. I can help you with that too if you want?"
His lips tensed in a slight grimace, but he nodded. Needing help for even the simplest tasks must be quite a blow to his pride, but at least he was accepting it. She loaded the toothbrush for him and handed it over, watching sympathetically as he bumped it into his lower lip on the way into his mouth. This was going to be a very humbling process…
Once he had finished up, she took his hand. "The tub is here," she said, placing his fingers on it. "I put the soap and washcloth on this stand beside it." She placed his hand there as well. "The towel is on the wall behind it, right here. I'll be just outside in the hall, so let me know if you need anything. Vash changed your bandages this morning, so we'll leave them on for today—just keep your head above water. We can wash your hair tomorrow. Sound good?"
He nodded again.
She grabbed Vash's kit and returned to the bedroom, her heart heavy. She'd wanted to see him so badly and now that he was here, she had no idea how to act around him. He'd been through so much… Should she ask him about it—offer him a friendly ear? Or was it better to try to ease his mood and let him broach the subject on his own?
And the two of them… What were they? When he held her so tenderly earlier, the complicated feelings she'd been dismissing and denying for the last few months sprang forth with a vigor that surprised her. But now he seemed… detached. She sighed, mentally chastising herself. The last thing he needed was her overthinking their relationship.
A sudden crash from the bathroom rang in her ears. She ran in to find Knives leaning forward in the tub. The stand that had been holding the soap was on its side by the door.
"Did you… throw it?" she asked, staring at it with an eyebrow raised.
"I dropped the soap," he responded dully.
She closed the door behind her and put the stand back in place before searching the floor for the missing bar of soap. A soft knock diverted her attention.
"Everything okay in there?" came Vash's voice.
"Yeah, it's fine," she answered. She saw the soap against the wall and retrieved it, setting it back on the stand. Her eyes lifted, and for the first time, she fully beheld the state Knives was in. She couldn't contain a gasp.
She had seen the scars on his arm, of course, but Vash had taken charge of caring for him the last few days. The handful of marks that decorated his back were a further testament to the horrors he must have experienced. On top of that, it looked like his skin had been stretched taught over his ribs. She knew he hadn't eaten for the last few days, but had the bastards fed him at all? "Oh, Knives…" she murmured sadly.
He let out a hollow laugh. "Yes, I'm sure I look quite gruesome to you now."
"No! It's not that! I just…" She knelt beside the tub. "It hurts, seeing what they did to you… what you've gone through…" She picked up the washcloth, swiped the soap against it and began washing Knives' back and shoulders before rinsing them with some of the bathwater.
He stayed silent.
She suddenly felt incredibly awkward for intruding into his space uninvited. "I'm sorry… I'll go…"
He turned sharply. "No. Please don't." His voice was oddly tremulous. He let out a slow breath. "I don't want to be alone."
"… Okay. Here." She handed the soapy washcloth to him. "I'll stay."
x.x.x.x.x
She talked to him as he washed himself. She told him of what had happened on the ship, excluding the fact that it was Meryl who had betrayed him. Vash could decide how and when to share that information, if ever. She told him of her various failed escape attempts. He even grinned briefly at some of the more ridiculous ones.
When he was done, she handed him a towel. He dried off quickly before wrapping it around his waist and reaching his hand out mutely. She grinned and took hold, leading him back to the bedroom before digging into his pack for some clothes. She'd washed everything the day before they had put their plan in action, so at least they were clean. She handed him one item at a time, telling him what it was, and then waiting quietly while felt it and oriented it before putting it on.
When he was finished, his lips curved slightly. "I can't believe you saved these…"
"I always hoped I'd be able to return them." She put her hand through his. "I… I really missed you, you know."
His smile fell… too quickly. "Thanks for trimming my beard," he said, gently pulling his hand away.
"No problem," Kira said, trying to mask the confusion in her voice. "I can do it anytime. And I'll tackle your hair once you get those bandages off…"
He sat down heavily on the bed, hunched forward.
She sat beside him. "Knives… do you want to talk?"
He let out a harsh breath. "I feel so pathetic. I can't shave on my own. I can barely dress myself… How am I going to do this?"
"You might still have some sight. If the cuts weren't too deep—"
"I doubt it. Maybe, if the bastards had put forth more of an effort when I was first injured," he said bitterly. He shook his head. "But it's too late now. It's been too long. My eyes have healed too much—incorrectly. My only chance now is to ask the angels to heal me. They could rebuild the ocular structure… But the only ones left are in Octovern, the Federation, and the Melca Border ship. And I don't expect their caretakers would be eager to grant me access to my sisters."
Kira frowned. "I don't know. We met a friend of Meryl's at the bulb in Octovern when Vash asked the angels about you. She was pretty excited to watch Vash interact with them. Maybe she'd do the same for you just to watch them heal you?"
He let out a cynical huff. "Yes, and then she'd turn me in and everyone's efforts to help me escape would have been for nothing."
"Hey—you don't know that. We should talk to Vash and Meryl, at least. And in the meantime, I'll be here to help you with whatever you need. We'll all help you. If you need anything, just tell me."
She tried to keep her tone light and encouraging, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what she intended. Knives clenched his jaw for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was somber. "Kira, there is something I need you to do…"
"Name it," she responded, curious at the weight behind his words.
"You have to leave."
"What?" Leave? He couldn't mean it! "Why?"
He hesitated. "I… I don't want you here."
From his tone, she doubted the sincerity of his words, but it still felt like a slap in the face. He was trying to push her away. Maybe he was concerned for her? "Is this because of the Federation? I'm not afraid of them, if that's what you're worried about—"
"You should be!" he snapped. "You should be terrified! It would be so easy for them to make you disappear, if they ever found you. They would destroy you! Kira—you have to leave!"
She could hear the plea in his voice. A tear rolled down her cheek, soon followed by a second and she sniffed. "I won't," she said as evenly as she could.
His lips tensed. "Please, try to understand." He was having trouble keeping his voice steady. "They're going to come after me. Staying anywhere near me is a risk… And you have no future here. You shouldn't waste any more time on me," he said desperately. "Please. Go—while you still have a chance!"
"No. Don't ask me to do this. I don't want to leave you," she ground out through her tears. She still had a promise to keep. She wouldn't abandon him until this thing was finished. Besides, if she left now, she'd spend the rest of her life worrying about him anyway.
"Go…" His voice was weak now, his resolve gone. "Please go… please. I… I can't protect you…"
She couldn't contain a small, sobbing laugh and he raised his head in surprise. "Knives," she said with a sad smile, "you have never protected me. But I won't stop protecting you. I won't leave until you're safe."
"Kira…" He let out a small sigh of defeat, his head bowed. "You never did like being told what to do." The corner of his lip twitched very slightly, although whether it was in irritation or amusement, she wasn't sure.
"Nope," she agreed, brushing her tears away. "I'm sorry… That's the one thing I can't do for you. It took so long to get to you and… I can't walk away now."
He gave her a single nod, though he was obviously still displeased with her refusal. "Then you have to promise me that you'll be careful. If anything were to happen to you…" He trailed off, the magnitude of his trepidation clear.
She felt her cheeks warm. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, putting her hand on his. "I'll be fine. I'll be careful, I promise," she said earnestly.
He tightened his fingers around hers, and his tension seemed to ease a little.
x.x.x.x.x
Kira was actually glad Knives couldn't see the concern on everyone's faces when they returned. She led him to a seat next to Vash and pulled a chair up for herself.
"Welcome back!" Vash said with false cheer. "Good bath?"
Knives nodded.
"Is there anything you need?" the aqua-eyed plant asked anxiously.
"I'm fine," Knives replied, his tone even.
"You sure? It's kinda chilly. I can grab you a—"
"Vash. I'm fine."
"Well you look like you're starving, to me," Livio said with a smirk, ignoring Vash's scowl. "I'll go make dinner."
"I can help, if you want," Millie offered brightly, and Livio inclined his head.
"Thanks guys," Vash said to the pair as they disappeared inside. He turned back to his brother, his expression solemn. "So, what do you want to do?"
"… I assume you're asking me?" Knives said impassively.
Vash's eyebrows rose. "Uh, yeah. Sorry."
"What do I want to do…?" He shook his head. "I don't know… Just sitting here is enough, for now."
Warmth entered the aqua-eyed plant's features and he reached over and put his hand on his brother's. "Okay. Then let's sit."
"Actually, before you get too comfortable, there's a matter we need to address." Everyone turned to Chronica, who gazed back coolly. "By now, I'm sure that Garrow is aware of my assistance in freeing Knives. This means that I cannot return to the fleet in Octovern, at least not until I know more about the situation there."
"Of course!" Vash said brightly. "Don't worry—you can stay with us as long as you need."
She gave him a wry smile. "I appreciate it, but that's not what I wanted to discuss. I have connections in a few other places, but before I reach out, I need to know exactly what happened to you, Knives. I know this is all very fresh," she said, raising a hand to silence Vash, "but time is of the essence. I'm sure Garrow is already planning his next move, if not actively searching for us. We need to be prepared."
Knives let out a weak laugh. "I'm sure you already have a pretty good idea of what happened to me, at least for the most part. I'm the 'anomaly' and they wanted to learn as much as they could."
Chronica gave him an unusually sympathetic look. "What did they do?"
"They studied me. They ran every kind of test you can probably think of. And they took samples. That was my primary function toward the end."
"Samples?" Vash repeated.
"Blood, tissues… everything. Before I left, Garrow asked me to work for him. I saw his technicians injecting some 'serum' derived from my DNA into one of their test subjects, like the Eye of Michael used to do with material from the angels. Only instead of just increasing strength and recovery time, they want to create a fully functioning independent plant."
"When was this," Chronica asked sharply.
"Not long ago—maybe a week? They said they've been working on it for half a year. Apparently, having access to a first gen plant was the 'breakthrough' they needed."
Chronica looked dismayed. "That is most troubling. I can't imagine many in the Federation would support such a venture."
"The number of people I saw over the course of my internment was small—seven technicians and maybe a few dozen guards?"
Chronica pursed her lips. "We are lucky he overplayed his hand. He didn't account for the connection between you and Vash. He assumed that no one of value knew you were alive. And he put too much faith in his power to control others."
"Who is this guy," Vash asked, an uncharacteristic bite to his tone. "I mean, I know he was behind everything, but how the hell did he manage to finagle all this?"
"Garrow is in charge of 'societal development' on this mission," the blond intoned. "Essentially, his job is to shape your population into an suitably organized civilization that can then be integrated into the Federation's alliance. He's overseen the development of nearly a dozen planets and is very highly regarded. He coordinates with many of other departments, which is what worries me. I need to know whom else he might have dragged into this little scheme of his and how high up the chain of command it goes. If the admiral is aware of it, we may be in very grave danger."
"What about the technicians?" Knives asked.
Chronica narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "He does have a team of scientists under his command, but I always thought their job was focused on the mental and physical condition of the new populations. I suppose they do have the knowledge to attempt what you are describing… but I don't understand why they would want to."
"He's the one behind the No Man's Land Reformation," Knives stated.
"Yes," Chronica confirmed. "Your citizens are very… untamed. There doesn't seem to be a consistent moral code that people are encouraged to abide by. He deemed it necessary to increase the ramifications of stepping outside the law in order to retrain your population."
"It's deeper than that though," Knives pushed. "He doesn't just want to clean up the population—he's using the criminals he gathers as his test subjects. And he's messing around inside their heads. The man I observed… it was like his mind had been wiped clean."
"Brainwashed?"
"Yes, but to a level I didn't even know was possible. There was almost no trace of… of anything. I was inside his mind when they gave him the serum…"
"… And?" Chronica prompted.
"It worked, though I can't be sure how well. It killed him."
"Do you know how it killed him," she persisted.
"He couldn't handle the telepathy. I tried to shield him, but they cut me off."
A small smile touched Vash's lips. "You tried to save him?"
Knives nodded. "The tech told me it wouldn't have helped—that they'd already tried shielding—but who can say. After the first one, I refused to take part. Garrow confronted me about it afterward. He wanted to show me how angry he was… That's when this happened." He gestured to his eyes.
"He did that because you wouldn't help him kill people?" Vash growled.
Knives shook his head. "He did this because I tried to strangle him—nearly succeeded too," he said softly. "I'm not a hero, Vash…"
A conflicted look crossed the aqua-eyed plant's face. "… Oh…"
"Sorry," his twin murmured.
An uncomfortable silence fell on the group as the clattering of pots and pans drifted out from the house.
It was Meryl who finally spoke. "So… it sounds like this Garrow guy will want to keep things quiet, since what he's doing is illegal. The stuff that happened to Knives might not cause as much of an uproar, no offense," she said in a weak attempt to placate the scowling plant, "but the Reformation being a front for some insane science experiment is huge news! If this gets out, it could start another war. They're going to want to take us down—covertly and quickly."
Chronica nodded. "Exactly. There are a handful of people I know I can trust. I'll reach out to them tomorrow and try to get more information. But we'll need to be cautious and vigilant."
"Meryl, maybe it would be best if you, Millie, and Kira went back to Octovern," Vash said quietly.
Kira opened her mouth to protest when Meryl barked out a laugh. "Not a chance! This is the scoop of the century! If you think you can force me to leave before I see how all this turns out, you've got another think coming!"
"You're going to need help," Kira added. "Both you and Knives need to stay out of sight… and Chronica and Meryl, for that matter. And we can't ask Livio to do more for us than he already has. You'll need Millie and me to run errands, get groceries—that kind of thing. The rest of you are too conspicuous."
Vash pouted. "Yeah… I guess…"
Silence fell again as they individually pondered the difficult road ahead of them.
A lilting voice sang through the air, disrupting the pensive atmosphere. "Dinner's ready!"
Kira couldn't help but smile. It was nice to hear a genuinely cheerful voice for a change. Millie always did seem to lighten the mood. They stood and made their way inside, with Vash leading his brother.
x.x.x.x.x
Knives hadn't realized how voraciously hungry he was until Livio and Millie's stew was in front of him. He also hadn't realized how tricky eating with utensils would be. He ran the spoon into his lips a couple of times in his speed to shovel more food into his mouth, and although no one said anything, he was sure they were either laughing at him or pitying him.
He was just beginning his third bowl when Livio excused himself, saying he needed to return home as he had work in the morning. The others expressed their gratitude for all his help and said their goodbyes, and Knives murmured one himself. He could hear a door close and gradually the sounds of good-humored conversation filled the air. Someone turned on the radio and he found himself lulled into a peaceful state he hadn't felt since the night on the ship, when he'd reunited with Vash… and when Kira had slept beside him.
Kira… To say he was conflicted about asking her to leave understatement. In a way, he couldn't be happier that she refused. But, in a way, he also wanted to knock her upside the head for being so fucking difficult! He wanted her there—he'd been dreaming about it since the day they parted—but now that they were together again, he realized how selfish it was to keep her around. The danger alone was motivation enough to push her away… and there were other reasons.
Hey.
Vash's voice in his head was so shocking he almost dropped his spoon. He'd forgotten it was still possible for other plants to reach into his mind. He just couldn't reach out. What? he answered back.
It's getting dark and everyone's pretty tired after all the excitement. We'll probably head to bed soon.
And you're using telepathy to tell me because…?
He felt Vash chuckle mentally. It's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor. I was wondering what you'd like to do about sleeping arrangements. Right now, you and I are sharing a room, but I can make myself scarce if you want…
You mean for Kira?
Yeah.
Don't bother.
… If you're nervous about your eyes, she wouldn't care about something like—
I asked her to leave. She refused. I don't think sharing a bed would be a wise next move. If she even wanted to…
Vash went silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was heavy. I'm sorry to hear that Knives.
That I asked her to leave or that she refused?
… Both, I guess…
Knives smiled faintly. It was a fair answer. Like you said, maybe the best way to express my feelings for her is to push her away. She deserves more than what I can offer.
Hey—don't sell yourself short.
Can you deny it? Knives asked sardonically.
Again, it's not my place to say. That's between you and her. But… I'm not gonna lie, I was really hoping you two would figure something out.
We did. We're friends. And that's all.
Alright… If that's what you want.
It's what's best.