Knives sank gratefully into the bed when they retired, the excitement of the day having sapped what little energy he had. He fell asleep quickly, but it was far from peaceful. Nightmares plagued him, and even upon waking, panic refused to loosen its hold. Over and over, he had to reassure himself, to prove to himself that it had really happened, that he had really escaped. He touched the blanket covering him, took deep breaths of the clean, fresh air, and listened to the sound of Vash's slow, steady breathing.
After a particularly affecting dream, he even went so far as to call out to his brother—an action he hadn't taken since they were children. He felt like a damn idiot the moment Vash's name left his lips, but when he heard the creak of the bed on the other side of the room a small wave of relief swept through him. A moment later the balance of his mattress tilted as Vash sat on the edge.
"Everything okay?" he asked softly.
"Yes… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you."
"Don't worry about it. I've been up and down all night. I think my brain is too overloaded to rest," he said, and Knives could hear wry humor in his tone.
"I haven't been able to sleep either."
"Yeah, I figured… Is there anything I can do?"
"No—I'm fine. I just… wanted to make sure you were really here."
Vash chuckled. "Reminds me of when we were little, on the ship."
Knives grimaced. "I thought it might. I was sort of hoping you were asleep and hadn't heard me…"
"Why?"
Wasn't it obvious? "It's embarrassing, having sunk so low."
"What—wanting companionship and reassurance is 'sinking so low' to you?"
Well, when he said it like that. But truthfully… "Being afraid. Being afraid is low." He'd fought against fear his entire life… and now here he was, at its mercy again.
"Knives… it's okay to be afraid," Vash said, a trace of melancholy in his voice. "And it's okay to seek comfort. There's nothing wrong with that. I'd rather you come to me than try to handle it all by yourself. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to let it out."
Knives' lips curved in a half-smile. "Kira said something like that to me once…"
"Well if Kira said it, maybe you'll actually listen."
"I listen to you," Knives protested.
Vash snorted. "Yeah. Sure. But," he said, becoming serious, "regardless, please don't hold back from reaching out if you need something. Anything. Even if it's just 'cause you're afraid. I'm your brother—it's what I'm here for."
Knives could picture the smile on his Vash's face so clearly. "Alright."
"So, is there anything you wanna talk about…?"
"No… I'm okay. Really," he insisted. "Anyway, we should probably try to get some sleep."
He felt a hand on his shoulder and Vash gave it a squeeze before rising and returning to his bed. It wasn't long before light snoring filled the room. Knives relaxed and let the familiar, comforting sound lull him back to sleep.
x.x.x.x.x
Knives awoke feeling surprisingly well rested. He couldn't hear Vash nearby and considered waiting for his brother to return and retrieve him, but the faint sound of voices drifting up from the rooms below and the smell of bacon cooking were enough motivation for him to venture out on his own.
He climbed from the bed and carefully made his way into the hall. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was any chance he'd be able to brush his teeth without help, but quickly realized he wasn't entirely sure where his toothbrush was… and if he found a toothbrush, there was a decent chance it would be someone else's. He began heading down the hall, trailing his hand lightly along the wall until he reached the stairs. He walked down them, counting as he went. Once he reached the bottom, he moved carefully through the small house, following Vash's chattering voice and the sound of crackling bacon. He brother greeted him with a cheerful 'good morning.'
"Perfect timing," Vash said, grabbing his arm and leading him to the table. "I just finished making breakfast. You hungry?"
"Yes, thanks." He sat down and heard a couple of dishes clink in front of him. He reached out tentatively and found a plate and a glass.
He heard a few more dishes clink down on the table before Vash spoke again. "Oh… uh… it's bacon, eggs and toast. There's orange juice in the glass. Your fork is on your right. Kira and Millie are running errands and should be back soon, but Meryl and Chronica are here."
"Actually, I'm just leaving," Meryl said lightly. "I need to call my producer on the sat-phone and let him know how my current project is going."
"What did you tell him you're working on?" Vash asked.
"The truth, actually. I told him I may have caught wind of a big story—something to do with the Federation—and that I'm going to need some time to look into it."
"You do know that you can't say a word about the Reformation being a front until I have a better handle on the situation, right?" Chronica said derisively.
"Yes. I do," Meryl retorted. "But you know that we need to bring this to light as quickly as we can so we can save the people being experimented on, right?"
Knives could almost feel the tension in the air and Vash let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm sure Chronica is moving as fast as she can. And Meryl knows better than to let something this galvanizing get out until we're all ready… and she knows not to say a word about Knives…?" he finished with an upward inflection.
There was a sharp huff and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, followed by stomping footsteps. "I'm not an idiot, Vash," Meryl snapped, fuming. The door to the back patio squeaked open and then slammed shut.
"… Shit. Uh, I'll be right back," Vash muttered, heading after his furious friend.
So now he was alone with Chronica, his enigmatic savior… Great. She had rescued him, but he was almost certain she still despised him. A long silence stretched between them and Knives tried to focus on his eating food, a task in itself, but gradually his sense of obligation got the better of him. "May we speak?"
"We have nothing to discuss." Her voice was cold.
"Please."
She sighed and he heard the crinkle of a newspaper being set down. "What do you want?"
"First, I want to apologize for what I did to your friend."
"Domina."
"Yes… Domina. I want to apologize for what I did to Domina."
"And now you have," she said shortly.
She obviously didn't want to talk, but he needed to say it. "I also wanted thank you for saving me."
She let out a dismissive breath. "Let me be clear, because I don't want you to misunderstand what happened—I saved you because it was the right thing to do, and for no other reason. I couldn't let such a blatant abuse of power and disregard for ethics continue. But, beyond that, your well-being was the least of my concerns. I don't need or want your gratitude," she finished.
He sat there mutely, not really surprised by what she'd said, but also not entirely sure how to respond.
She quickly grew impatient. "Is that all?" she asked haughtily.
Was that all…? Yes, she definitely despised him and she clearly didn't want to socialize, but his curiosity was suddenly piqued. He'd be a fool to let this opportunity pass him by. He steeled himself and plunged forward. "I have questions—about our kind," he said firmly. "The tech I spoke to made it sound like my DNA was the key to whatever 'success' they've been having. He said that second generation independents are genetically modified?"
"Yes. And?"
"I'd like to know what they did to you."
She scoffed. "Why? So you can throw another tantrum?"
He clenched his jaw in an attempt to curb his rising temper before exhaling slowly. "You know what happened," he said. She had seen Tessla. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
There was silence and then she let out a small, irritated sigh. "Once they realized the magnitude of the gate's power, they decided that a limiter was needed. We cannot produce weapons like you, and we cannot merge with the angels."
He wrinkled his nose in confusion. "How did they know they needed these limitations?"
"Don't be dense," she spat. "Did you really think you were the first—the only independent to merge? To rebel?"
"There were others?" he asked, astonished. The possibility that he wasn't the first truly hadn't occurred to him.
"Yes… although they make up a very small fraction of our population. Most of us enjoy living beside the humans. And none of our brethren were as stupid as you, managing to strand yourself on this barren rock."
This time he actually bit his cheek to hold in his instinctive verbal retort. He'd killed her friend. Her anger was justified. "So… how many of us are there?"
"Across the universe? I couldn't say. Our species is very young and is slow to develop. It takes a lot of energy for an angel to produce us."
"How many are here?"
"There are just over a hundred within our fleet."
He raised his eyebrows. Yes, it was 'few' compared to the number of humans travelling aboard the ships, but it still dwarfed the planet's previous population of two. "A hundred… And we have gender, obviously, unlike the angels," he murmured. His 'sisters' looked female, but it was in appearance only. They reproduced asexually. Growing up, he'd often wondered why he and Vash had been created with genitalia when there was no one around to create offspring with.
"Yes, we have gender, although females are far more common. Males make up about a quarter of the population."
How curious… She had said it took a lot of energy for an angel to produce them. Maybe they were like mules—unable to have children, even amongst their own kind. "Can we reproduce?"
"We can, although it is rare. But it has happened."
"And we can't interbreed?" Vash was probably right, but he wanted to be sure.
"Not that I'm aware of."
He wondered vaguely about their sexuality and mating preferences. Assuming the majority was heterosexual, as with humans, how did they cope with the gender disparity? With so few males to propagate the species and the low fertility rate, were they polyamorous? Maybe they didn't worry about sustaining their race since they were so long-lived—or they counted on the angels to do it for them? And if so, then maybe… maybe they took human partners? Could they prolong human lives…? If there was a solution he wasn't aware of… "Do the independents in the Federation engage in monogamous relationships or—"
"For the most part. Why? Already tired of your human female?" she said snidely.
His temper flared, once again. He wished she'd stop baiting him. "Do they ever have relationships with humans?"
"Ah… I see." She chuckled lightly. "Yes, there are some who do."
His pulse quickened. "And? How do they make it work?"
"I couldn't say. I've never tried it. A relationship with a human always seemed too difficult."
His heart sank. Maybe they hadn't worked it out… "Because of the aging?"
"Yes… I've never understood why someone would endure that pain. It doesn't seem a fair price for such a fleeting pleasure. Then again, I'm not exactly an expert. The Federation keeps me too busy for romance with either species. I've always preferred friendships. They're so much less demanding… Especially friends like Domina," she murmured softly. "She was my ideal—she required nothing from me. She was always the wellspring of kindness and understanding. She gave so much of herself… and I took her for granted. Since she was a plant, I assumed she'd be around long after our human comrades had perished… And then you happened."
"After you hijacked her, we tried to save her. We tried to bring her consciousness back, but as you continued your assault, information became of greater importance. We needed to connect with the angels. And she was our best chance. My friend. I'm the one who told them to let her go. I'm the one who chose to sacrifice her… and you're the one who forced my hand," she finished sharply.
No wonder she hated him. He cringed internally when he thought back on some of the things he'd said to her when they first met. The excuses he'd given her… "Chronica, I truly am sor—"
"Don't bother," she bit out. "It's done. She's gone—just one more life for you to feel guilty for… if you even can feel guilt. There was a surprising lack of it when I was in your head. Do the others know how little you regret the things you've done? How justified you still consider your actions? I imagine they'd find it quite shocking. Appalling, even."
"You're wrong," he growled. "I do feel guilt. I regret the things I did."
"Yes, but not as much as you should. You still hate humans, don't you," she said archly.
Knives felt his face burn from a combination of anger and shame. It was a question he didn't have an answer to. A part of him wanted to scream out 'yes—of course I hate the vile creatures that imprisoned me and tortured me!' but the thought of Kira prevented him from speaking.
"I thought so," she said scornfully. "Your friends may think you've changed, but I know better."
He scowled. "What about you? How do you feel about them?"
"I am ambivalent. They are too varied to assess as a group. There have been many that I've enjoyed, and some that I've hated. You and I can agree on one point, at least—they do make for passionate lovers."
He frowned. "Wait… so you have…?"
"What? You think because I haven't been in a relationship with a human that I've never slept with one? Don't be so foolish. I would think you of all people would understand the mechanics of a casual sex. Then again, you weren't very good at the 'casual' part, were you… Ah! Speaking of which."
Knives heard the door open and Millie's ever-sunny voice rang out as she made her way to them, presumably with Kira. "Good morning Knives, Chronica. Still working on breakfast, I see. Uh… Chronica, why is your plate on the other side of the table?"
The blond picked up her newspaper. "It was Vash's, but he offended the reporter. I imagine he's about halfway through consoling her by now." Knives could hear the smirk in her voice.
He heard someone walk up beside him. "Hey, Knives. Uh… it's… me."
He couldn't help but smile a little at her discomfiture. It seemed he wasn't the only one learning how to deal with this situation. "Kira," he confirmed.
"Yeah." She sat down beside him. "So—you're on your own?"
"I guess. Until Vash gets back…"
"Um… it looks like you've mostly emptied that plate. Are you still hungry? I can get you more. Or is there anything else you'd like help with?"
Honestly, he was still hungry, but he was also ready to be clean, and he doubted the strained civility between Chronica and him would last much longer. He couldn't take too many more of her barbs. "Actually, a bath would be nice."
He heard her clear his dishes away and he stood, holding his arm out. He heard a soft chuckle and her hand wrapped around his, gently tugging him forward.
x.x.x.x.x
She directed him to the correct toothbrush as the bath was filling. Once he was finished, she had him to sit on the closed toilet again. "I'm going to change your bandages," she explained before unwrapping them slowly. "This will probably sting," she warned as she pulled the last layer away.
He winced and slowly opened his eyes, despite the sharp pain it caused. He could make out a wash of light and vague shapes, but that was about it. Kira stepped in front of him, creating a shadowy patch.
"How's it look?" she said softly.
He shook his head. "Like a blur… How does it look to you?" he asked, legitimately curious.
She let out a slow breath. "Painful. Does it still hurt?"
"Yes, but less than it did." Even so, the pain was better when he kept his eyes closed. And the distorted vision was making him nauseous.
"I'll give you more painkillers after the bath. You should have another dose of antibiotics too."
He nodded.
"Do you… I mean… I can help you wash your hair if you want. If I'm not intruding, that is," she added hastily. "I just figured you wouldn't want to get water in your eyes and thought it might be easier with someone to scrub while you lean back…?"
He hesitated. Help would be nice… And she'd most likely gotten a good look at his nude body the previous day, so they'd already crossed that bridge. But, he was supposed to be pushing her away. It was one thing to accept her help with a few minor tasks; it was another to allow her to join him while he bathed… again. Maybe he should ask her to fetch Vash instead.
That was the 'right' thing to do…
Then again, she was already here. Maybe he was overthinking it.
"Yes, thanks," he said, trying to sound indifferent. The least he could do was try to mask his anticipation.
"I'll wait in the hall while you wash. Just let me know when you're ready and I'll come back in. Oh! And everything is in the same place as last time."
He reached out carefully to locate the bathing supplies. "Got it."
"I won't be far," she said lightly.
He heard the door click shut and began stripping his clothes, careful not to bump the small stand beside the tub. Once he was bare, he climbed into the hot water and sank down with a sigh. He reached very slowly for the soap and washcloth, not wanting a repeat of the previous day, and began scrubbing himself with vigor. As pathetic as it was, bathing still felt like an extravagance. It didn't take long before he was delightfully clean.
And now… His heart rate picked up slightly. "Kira," he called out.
The door opened and shut, and he heard her approach the tub. "Hm… How to do this…" She paused. "Can you scoot forward and tip your head back so we can get your hair wet?"
He did as she instructed and felt her arm go around his shoulders, supporting him. "Okay… lean back… a little more…" With her other hand, she began scooping water over his head and running her fingers through his hair. She snorted. "You and your brother really do have the wildest hair. It doesn't obey the laws of gravity at all, does it," she said with a laugh. He smiled and she lifted him out of the water slightly. "Do you think you can hold yourself up and keep your head tipped back like that while I lather?"
"Yes." He braced himself against the tub, supporting his weight. She removed her arm from his shoulders and a moment later her fingers began lightly kneading and scraping along his scalp, sending tingling shivers of pleasure down his spine. Without meaning to, he let out a soft moan. Heat instantly flooded his cheeks and he guessed he was sporting a fairly bright blush. Oh well… too late now. Might as well go with it. "You're good at this," he murmured, a crooked grin curving his lips. This was definitely better than having Vash do it…
She let out a soft snicker, her fingers continuing their tantalizing work. She stopped and he felt her arm around his shoulders again. "Lean back…" She once again dipped his head back, scooping handfuls of water into his hair and running her fingers through it, rinsing it. He luxuriated in the sensations and sulked internally when she finished. "Sit up a little more but keep your head back. I'll try to dry it so it doesn't drip in your eyes."
He complied and she began gently pressing a towel against his head, wringing the excess water from his hair. He let out a satisfied sigh.
"All done," she said brightly.
"Thanks again," he replied, straightening up. His hair flopped forward over his face, and Kira chuckled, pushing it back, only to have it flop forward again. "It's no use," he said with a smirk. "It does what it wants."
"I can see why you kept it short," she said, her tone amused. She ran her fingers through it again, her hand coming to rest for a moment before suddenly pulling away. "Um… is there anything else you need?" she muttered awkwardly, standing.
What the hell just happened?
"No. I'm fine."
"Alright. Do you want me to grab some clothes for you?"
"Yes."
"Uh… great," she said stiffly. "Let me know when you're ready."
He nodded, puzzled, and heard her retreat quickly into the hallway. Shit.
x.x.x.x.x
Kira let out an anxious breath once she was out of earshot of Knives and trotted to the bedroom to grab his clothes and medications. Her heart was fluttering in her chest. That had been… interesting.
Damn…
She had started with the best intentions, but the situation had gotten away from her a bit. After their previous conversation, she assumed they were going to remain solidly in platonic territory—after all, she 'had no future here.' The message was pretty clear. But that had felt anything but platonic.
On the bright side, he was acting more like himself today… or more like the less-cynical side of himself, at least. His eyes looked a lot better too, although they were still a grisly visage. At least it sounded like he had some visual perception. That would make things a little easier for him once the bandages came off for good. They'd just have to wait and see. With his superhuman healing, she still hoped there was a chance his sight would improve. If not, they'd figure something out, or at least help him cope.
She returned to the bathroom with an armful of clothes and handed the bundle to him, making sure to keep her eyes averted before stepping back out. He opened the door a couple of minutes later. "Is everything on correctly?" he said diffidently.
"Yeah. You look good." She made him sit again while she bandaged his eyes and then handed him the pills along with a cup of water. Once he'd taken them, she tugged him lightly to his feet. "So, back downstairs?"
"Yes."
She took his hand but he held back with a slightly uncomfortable expression.
"I think it might be easier if I hang on to you," he said, extending his hand. "That way I can feel you move and turn. Being pulled along is rather disorienting."
"Oh… uh… sure." She put his hand on her arm and led him back to the dining room where Vash was sitting alone, wolfing down a plateful of most likely cold eggs.
"Did you get everything worked out with Meryl," Kira asked, note of sympathy in her voice. Things had been less-than-pleasant between the pair lately. Their relationship was complicated enough before, and a month and a half of living together had only amplified the pent-up tension between them. The result was an exceptionally fiery Meryl and a doubly apologetic Vash.
The aqua-eyed plant grimaced. "Kinda. So… bath time again?" he said, raising a brow at Kira who went pink in response.
Knives scowled. "She offered to help and I accepted. Maybe if you hadn't disappeared on me…"
Vash stared down at the remainder of his eggs guiltily. "Sorry about that," he muttered.
Knives' face softened. "It's fine."
"The others are out back," Vash said, setting his fork on his plate. "If you're up for it, there are still some things we all need to discuss."
Knives put on his most reluctant expression but nodded. Vash led the way and Kira followed with Knives in tow. Millie seemed to be in the middle of a very animated story when they stepped outside. She paused and the other two women looked up as the newcomers sat in the empty seats around the weatherworn table.
Vash cleared his throat and began, "Sorry to interrupt, but we should probably go over a few things. I know there's a lot of uncertainty about what we're doing and how we'll move forward, and I know everyone has different opinions about how best to proceed, so I thought it might be a good idea to… uh… talk it out," he said, a fake smile plastered across his face. The women stared at him in silence and he rubbed the back of his neck absently. "Anyway, I guess I'll start. My main priority is to keep Knives safe. I think the best way to do that is to keep him hidden as much as possible. I'd prefer if everyone stays quiet about his existence unless I give the go ahead."
Meryl shot him an irritated glare. "I agree with Vash that the best thing to do for Knives is not tell anyone about him. However, we also need to stop the illegal experimentation. I think it would be a good idea to at least let someone know about that—just in case we all get captured… or worse."
"I can send word to a few of my affiliates," Chronica said. "I am certain we can trust them."
"No offense, but I'd prefer to use someone outside of the Federation for this task," Meryl said tersely.
Chronica narrowed her eyes.
"Uh… let's come back to this," Vash tittered nervously, cutting in. "For now, I think the plan is to wait here and gather more information while Knives heals. Do we all agree on that part?"
There was a half-hearted consensus.
"Great," he continued. "Once he's doing a little better I'd like to get his collar off. Our best option is probably the Melca Border ship—"
"You cannot be serious," Knives growled.
Vash cast a sympathetic look at his brother. "I understand why you don't want to return, but if we explain everything to Luida, I'm sure she would—"
"No." He slammed his fist on the table. "I will not go back to that ship!"
"Knives, calm down," he said gently.
"No!" he shouted. "Have you forgotten who it was that delivered me into the Federation's hands!"
"I understand… just calm down…"
Knives stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. "No! S-stop saying that!" he snarled.
A weighty silence hung in the air. Vash tossed a glance to Kira.
"Hey," she said quietly, rising from her seat, "do you want to take a walk with me?" She put a hand on Knives' arm, but he pulled it away roughly.
"Knives—it's okay," Vash said, putting a hand his brother's other arm.
"Get off of me!" Knives tore his arm away and took a step back, tripping over the chair and falling to the ground. He sat for a moment, stunned while Vash knelt beside him. "Please," he ground out. "Don't."
Vash gave Kira a questioning look and she nodded. He sighed and picked up the chair, righting it and leaving Knives where he was, walking to the door instead. "Come on," he said, to the rest of the troupe, "let's go inside."
Kira watched them leave, her heart heavy. She looked down at Knives on the ground in front of her, and sat beside him. He lifted his head at the sound.
"Kira?"
"Yes…"
He lowered his head again. Kira stared out into the desert, her mind drifting. She could just make out the glint of Octovern's great glass sphere on the horizon. It was so close… too close. If the Federation somehow found out where they were staying, they could arrive in an hour. Once Knives was back on his feet, they needed to leave. They needed more separation. They needed protection. They needed a lot of things, most of which could be found back on the damn floating ship…
Kira didn't particularly like Luida, but if Vash thought they could trust her, she'd believe him. Of course, convincing Knives would be damn near impossible. How could they make him understand? They didn't have many options. She wondered what he'd do if he ever found out about Meryl…
The sound of movement drew her attention as Knives shifted and stood.
"Kira…"
"Yup."
He held out his hand. She put it around her arm and he sighed. "You mentioned a walk?"
She smiled. "Alright." She began moving over the sand at an easy pace with him trailing just behind her.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have overreacted like that."
"It's going to be rough, you know… for everyone. This isn't a situation any of us wants to be in. I think the best way to deal with it will be to cut each other some slack. It's okay to get angry or upset, but we need to be able to work through it—to find a way past it. We shouldn't waste our energy fighting amongst ourselves."
"You're right… I know you are, but… it's difficult."
"I know. Look, today was just a discussion of what our options are. We need to lay everything out so we can start planning. But our biggest priority is keeping you safe."
"And you think Luida can do that?"
"Maybe… Vash knows her better than I do."
He nodded sullenly.
"Don't worry—no one's going to force you to go if you don't want to. But… I hope you'll at least consider it as an option. Unless we can think of something better."
He scowled. "I'd rather live with the fucking collar…"
She snorted. "Glad to see you've got your priorities straight."
He let out a weary sigh. "Did Vash look upset when I yelled at him?"
She put her hand on his. "He understands."
"I should apologize…"
She stopped. "You want to head back?"
He seemed to be thinking and then a curious smile played across his lips and he tightened his hand ever so slightly around her arm. "In a little while…"