"Those stupid fucking son-of-a-bitch assholes!"
Knives' eyebrows shot up. He'd heard Meryl swear a few times, but it was rare. And it was never like that.
"I'm going to kill them!" She let out a frustrated growl and began stomping forward.
"Kill who?" Millie asked lightly at their backs, unaffected by her friend's display of temper.
"The goddamn engineers. I told them I wanted to keep this quiet so we didn't have to deal with… with this! A whole fucking crowd! Arg!"
Knives' heart began beating faster. "A crowd?"
"Yes. Those bastards must have told everyone in the fucking city that we'd be here. I'm sure they thought turning this visit into a spectacle would bring even more publicity. All these people probably came by for a chance to meet the famous Vash the Stampede, so be ready. This whole thing just got a hell of a lot tougher."
They began moving forward and Knives could hear Millie pull out the camera to film. Great. He could already hear soft murmuring as they continued their approach. For once, he was glad he couldn't see. Swarms of humans had always set him on edge, even when he was at his prime. His hand tightened unconsciously as the murmurs grew louder and more excited.
"It's going to be fine," Meryl said under her breath. "Just stay calm. Smile. Be humble."
He let out a breath, focusing. She was right. All of these people simply wanted to express their gratitude for 'his' valiant deeds. He needed to play the part.
They were amongst the crowd now. He could hear voices whispering on all sides in a sort of subdued awe. He briefly hoped they would continue like this, appreciating him from a distance, but a firm hand on his arm shattered that dream.
"Mr. Vash?" A gruff male voice spoke.
His breath caught before he regained control and turned toward the voice. He was sure he looked uneasy and quickly schooled his expression into as relaxed a smile as he could manage. "Yes?"
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did. My family and I were just outside Octovern when the battle started. I was sure we were gonna be wiped out. We probably woulda been if it weren't for you. You're a real hero."
Knives offered a shallow nod. "You're welcome," he said stiffly, trying to maintain his smile.
He felt Meryl moving forward and gratefully stepped to follow her. A moment later another voice stopped him, female this time.
"Mr. Vash, I came from Inepril." There was a surprising depth of emotion layering her words. She spoke slowly, haltingly. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was there that day you fought the Nebraska family. I… I lost my husband when the ark destroyed our city. I was six months pregnant at the time but somehow I made it out. I thought it was a miracle. But when I finally made it to Octovern and that thing attacked again," she ground out, her voice breaking. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you on behalf of myself and my daughter."
Knives could hear an infant cooing.
"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." He felt a hand grip his tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"
He nodded awkwardly, trying to keep his smile from slipping.
It continued on as they slowly made their way to the dome. Every few steps someone would stop him with a kind word or a short story of how he'd saved them. The repeated shows of appreciation were both humbling and troubling. Over and over, he was reminded of how much pain and ruin he'd left in his wake, only this time, he was fully forced to acknowledge the individual cost of his pointless war against 'humanity.' The lingering justifications and fragments of hatred he'd clung to were mercilessly chipped away with each new voice that spoke, leaving shame behind. These people, who were simply trying to build their lives on the desolate planet, who had done nothing to him personally, who were now thanking him, these blameless people would be dead if he'd had his way.
He was a villain—a fool, whose narrow-minded, shortsighted, fear-driven actions had brought suffering to everyone around him. He'd realized this some time ago, but he'd never felt it as deeply as he did right now.
And Vash was a hero.
The relentless outpouring of gratitude was a strong reminder of the larger-than-life status his brother held in this world. Knives had always looked down on him for his aimlessness and his idiotic optimism, but now, possibly for the first time, he marveled at the magnitude of Vash's resilience, benevolence and influence. He'd given so much of himself, and in doing so, had become what independents were supposed to be—ambassadors for the angels, who could pave the way to a brighter future. Even with all the destruction that followed him, Vash had always done what he could to foster a relationship with the humans, and now they were happy to follow him.
Knives felt Meryl pause and a door groaned open before them. They walked into a darker space and the door swung shut, cutting off the gentle murmur of the crowd. He hadn't realized how heavily he was breathing until the ambient sounds were quieted. Apparently the ordeal had affected him even more than he realized.
"You alright?" Meryl asked.
"Yes… I'm fine."
"You did well," she offered encouragingly. "You ready?"
"I am."
She began moving forward and he heard her exchange the usual greetings with an attendant in the lobby. A few minutes later someone came to retrieve them. Knives' heart had finally settled, but as they began moving deeper into the dome, it started racing again. This was it.
Once they had reached the central control room, Meryl cordially acknowledged the engineers, obviously deciding this was not the time to vent her frustrations with them. She went on to explain what they hoped would happen; namely, that 'Vash' would try to 'commune' with his sisters. She gave a few brief, falsified excuses as to why it might not work, as well as a rough explanation that if the connection were made, the process could take several hours. The engineers responded with a moment of dumbfounded silence, followed by confused muttering, but by that point, Meryl had moved on.
She slipped effortlessly into the role of the pushy, overbearing reporter, taking Knives' arm and guiding him through the room in an attempt to 'find the best shot.' He followed as well as he could, listening closely to her verbal clues about the layout of the room as they walked, until she dropped his arm, brightly announcing, "Here. This will be perfect! If you stay there, with the dome right in front of you, and we shoot from over here, we should be able to get a good shot of both you and the angels."
Knives tentatively reached forward and found the glass sphere only a foot or so away.
"Okay, let me do a little intro and you can get started. If you could just turn this way," Meryl said hurriedly, taking his arm and spinning him around. She pointed at Millie, and the tall woman aimed her camera at the smiling reporter and the somewhat stunned plant. "This is Meryl Stryfe, reporting from the brand new facility in December. Today, I have a very special guest, your hero, Vash the Stampede, who will be communicating with his sisters for the first time ever in their new home. Let's watch." She paused, turning to Knives. "Whenever you're ready," she said gently, taking a few steps back.
He felt his determination flare. It was up to him now. Him and the angels.
He reached forward, delicately pressing his hands on the smooth glass.
My sisters, I need your help. Please… please, call to me…
He paused, wishing he could see what was happening inside the bulb, to know if his presence was eliciting any kind of response, but all he could do was listen, and all he heard was silence.
He continued on as the minutes ticked slowly by. When Meryl had suggested they leave after an hour if he couldn't reach the angels, he'd almost asked for more time. He hadn't realized how long an hour would feel while he stood, trapped under the scrutiny of the engineers, waiting for something to happen. He had no way of telling how much time had actually passed, but he doubted it had been more than ten minutes. Fifteen, at most.
It felt like an eternity.
He kept his breathing slow and steady, despite his growing unease. The engineers were restless. He could hear them shifting, clearing their throats, and whispering to each other. Every once in a while, Meryl would say something such as thanking them for their patience, insisting that they remain quiet so he could concentrate, and offering up more excuses: The angels were likely shy from the move. Vash recently had a cold and it might have affected his telepathic ability. Maybe the angels were all sleeping…?
Her explanations were getting more and more ridiculous, but thankfully her audience had no real experience with the ins and outs of telepathic communication and could only look on, mutely skeptical of her words.
It had probably been twenty minutes now… Only forty minutes left until he'd have to admit defeat. He wondered if he'd even make it that long before someone got tired of waiting and asked them to leave. The mutterings behind him were growing louder and more aggravated.
My sisters, I'm begging you. Please. I must speak with you!
He knew his mental pleas were pointless. His thoughts weren't radiating—it was only inside his own head. The angels needed to physically see him, recognize him, and decide to reach out on their own. He was half tempted to tap on the damn glass, but he was pretty sure neither the engineers nor the angels would appreciate it.
Please… Please…
He continued breathing, deeply and slowly, waiting… waiting… waiting…
His mind drifted back to his time in that endless purgatory; that space between life and death. He thought of the silence, the emptiness, the fear that he'd remain, forever alone.
And he remembered how happy he'd been to finally hear the voices of his sisters.
It had been so long since he'd spoken to them. He wanted to hear them again. He missed them…
Brother?
It was a single voice, soft and curious. His breath caught in his throat.
Yes! I'm here. I need to speak with you—all of you. Please.
There was pause and then he heard gasps from the humans around him. He felt his lips curve into a smile.
My sisters. Can you hear me?
He felt waves of confusion and a cluster of images bombarded his mind. They knew who he was but didn't understand his attire.
It's… hard to explain. Please—I need your help.
Why did you not call to us?
I am unable. The humans will not let me use my mind.
Though his answer was vague, the angels seemed to understand his meaning and sent feelings of sympathy. Telepathy was an intrinsic part of being a plant. To take it away was cruel.
Sisters, I've missed you. Are you well?
We are.
He felt another wash of emotions and images. They were happy and content with their new cohabitation. They had worried about him during his eventful time back in the living world, but there was an edge of bitterness to their concern. Apparently not all of them were so forgiving of what he'd done—taking them from their bulbs with dubious consent.
I am sorry. His guilt swelled. I… I was wrong. And you all paid dearly for my mistakes.
Another wave. Forgiveness. Understanding. Irritation. Anger.
Why are you here?
It was hard to answer after feeling their conflicted opinion of him. He'd put them through so much, and now here he was again, asking for their help. Abusing their kindness and generosity. Chronica was right.
He felt a mental nudge and knew they were waiting on an answer.
He pursed his lips, still reluctant. A human has blinded me. He sent a brief memory of Garrow and their fight. The damage to my eyes is too great and I no longer have the energy to repair myself. I came to ask for your help… if you are willing.
Once again he waited. Seconds ticked by and for a moment he worried that they had simply cut the connection to his mind. He'd asked for too much from them.
And then he felt it.
A prickle, at his fingertips of his left hand, slowly crept up his arm until it reached his gate. He couldn't help but grin at the feather light sensation. It seemed to swirl around the mysterious organ before inching methodically onward, higher and higher, up his bicep, to his shoulder, to his neck. It tickled along his jaw and over his cheek until it finally found the place it was needed—his eyes.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, a massive surge of energy shot into him, filling him up. It took all of his self-control not to react beyond a choked gasp. He willed himself to relax, to accept the gift his sisters were offering as it coursed through him. His eye sockets burned, and he was sure tears were streaming down his cheeks.
The engineers began murmuring loudly, and he heard Meryl stammer an explanation.
H-how… how long… to heal…?
It was hard to form words, even mentally, as he was blasted with the piercing stream of energy. He received no answer and was soon lost in the thrumming of the current as it ripped through him. For a brief moment, he thought it was too much—that he was going to lose consciousness—but he gritted his teeth and refocused, forcing himself to bear the pain. He wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.
x.x.x.x.x
"So Chronica's meeting up with the army guys?" Vash said lazily, tossing down a card.
"Yup," Kira answered, picking up his card before discarding one of her own with a sigh. They'd been trying to distract themselves for hours, but both had grown tired of waiting.
Vash drew a card and immediately discarded it. "I hope it goes well. It'd be nice if they can finally make a move against that bastard captain…"
"Garrow. Yeah." Kira frowned and laid her cards face down, pausing the game. "Once he's gone, what do you think will happen? Knives said he'll probably have to run forever. Do you think he's right?"
"I really don't know. I still wish he'd go back to the ship. Luida could keep him safe. But I guess that's not gonna happen. Other than that, it'll be tricky for him to stay anywhere populated—especially if Meryl keeps doing stories on me. You guys were lucky no one recognized you when you first travelled together."
"I know," Kira said. "The Delnashville region is pretty remote, I guess. All the new technology didn't make it out that far. If he'd been reborn anywhere else, he'd have been screwed." She picked up her cards again.
"I suppose if we all settled somewhere, he could keep dressing like me," Vash offered with a shrug.
Kira grimaced. Even though their faces were identical, the thought of kissing Knives, dressed as Vash, was a little disturbing. She let out an unconvinced hum and the aqua-eyed plant pouted, making her giggle until a knock at the door cut her off.
Vash raised his brows. Meryl had taken the key with her, so… "Chronica?"
"She's not supposed to be back until late this afternoon," Kira muttered, a little apprehensive of their unexpected visitor.
"Maybe her meetings went faster than she expected?" He pushed himself lightly off the bed and took a step toward the door. The knocking repeated, more aggressively this time. Vash frowned and glanced back at Kira. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Something wasn't right.
Vash silently went to his bag and pulled out his holster and pistol, strapping them around his waist before turning to her.
'The window,' she mouthed, pointing. They made their way across the room and slid it open as quietly as they could before looking out and assessing their situation. They were on the second floor off the back of the building and the alley below was thankfully empty. Unfortunately there wasn't really a way to climb down, and though a jump from this height wouldn't kill them, it would probably hurt. Then again, from all the stories Kira had heard, it sounded like Vash was made of rubber, so he'd probably be fine.
The pounding on the door reverberated a third time. "We know you're in there," came a deep male voice. "Open up."
"Go," Vash hissed.
Kira climbed out hastily, balancing precariously on the narrow lip of the decorative trim between the first and second floors.
"Hang onto my arm," he said, reaching out.
She did as instructed and he carefully lowered her as far as he could. A scraping metallic click rang through the air and the pair exchanged panicked looks. The damn innkeeper must have given the bastards a key, though they could hardly blame him. Not many were willing to stand up to the Federation's soldiers.
They were out of time.
"Drop me!" Kira cried.
Vash nodded and let go, sending her plummeting to the ground. She landed awkwardly on her ankle, wincing at the sharp pain, but climbed to her feet, scrambling out of the way as Vash vaulted out. As expected, he landed smoothly beside her, grabbing her arm a moment later and yanking her down the alley with him.
"Stop!" came a rough shout out the window followed by a furious curse. "They're back here! Get them!"
Kira cast a glance over her shoulder and saw a small phalanx of soldiers come barreling around the corner at the far end of the alley, in hot pursuit. With a sudden tug, Vash dragged her between a pair of houses and out to the bustling main street. They ran through the crowd and Kira hoped they'd be able to lose their pursuers in the sea of people, but after the soldiers spilled out into the street, a moment was all it took for them to spot the retreating pair.
The duo ducked and dodged through the oblivious peddlers and their patrons as swiftly as they could, but the soldiers were gaining ground steadily. Vash began bellowing at people to 'get the hell out of the way' and plowed into a few unfortunate citizens. Kira soon realized that she was the reason he hadn't already eluded the soldiers in his usual manner. He refused to leave her behind and was doing everything he could to clear a path for her.
At the end of the block he pulled her down a more barren stretch of road and dropped her hand. "Come on!" he shouted, trying to spur her on. She sprinted after him, gritting her teeth against the dull throbbing in her ankle, but not even half a block later, she stumbled, roughly falling to her knees.
Vash, a small distance ahead of her, spun about and began running back.
"Go!" she shouted, hopping to her feet, her heart pounding. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the soldiers who'd rounded the corner, and began sprinting as fast as she could toward Vash. "Don't worry! I'm right behind you!" she yelled, her adrenalin running high. "Keep going! We have to warn the oth—" Bang!
"Kira!"
She was vaguely aware of Vash's shouting as she slowed, taking a few more confused steps forward. What…?
Vash's pistol was extended and he was firing at the group of soldiers, several of whom fell to the ground with various howls and moans, while the rest quickly took cover. When the pistol ran out of bullets, he switched to the gun arm and continued his assault.
Kira looked down, still confused by all the commotion and noticed a bright red bloom, slowly growing on her stomach. Oh…
Vash was at her side when she crumpled forward. He caught her with his right arm, falling to his knees and cradling her against him. His left stayed firmly trained on the soldiers who were, at least temporarily, subdued.
"V-Vash…?"
"It's okay," he crooned, his soothing tone offset by the alarm in his eyes. "It's gonna be okay." He began shifting her and she let out a soft moan. He gave her a desperate look, tightening his arm around her shoulder. "Just stay calm. I'm gonna get you out of here."
Bang! An enemy shot kicked up a cloud of sand in front of them and Vash raised his eyes, shooting back, an uncharacteristic look of fury on his face. He lowered his gun, slipping his arm under her legs, the hot metal slightly burning her skin, and lifted her like she weighed nothing. He began sprinting forward but had only made it a few steps before another shot rang out, grazing his thigh, making him stumble.
They fell to the ground together and Kira slipped from his arms, landing on her back in the sand. She stared up at the sky as Vash once again returned fire.
This… this wasn't real… was it? This couldn't be…
But it was. She could feel it… her life flowing out of her, soaking into the sand.
She was dying.
And Vash was going to be killed trying to save her.
"S-stop… Vash…" she called out, her voice weak. He glanced down, his face pale. "You have to go," she said, using what little strength she still had to speak firmly and evenly. She knew he wouldn't want to listen, but he needed to. "You have to warn them."
Tears began welling up in his eyes. "I can't leave you!" he growled, turning back to the soldiers.
"Please," she said, her voice catching. "You… ngh…" Her eyes clamped shut, her teeth clenched, as a spasm of pain hit her. "You have to get out of here," she whimpered. "It's too late for me."
"N-no. We… we can… There's gotta be something!" he wailed, glancing down.
She shook her head slowly, her eyes glassy as she stared up at him. "Go… mngh… P-please… You have to protect him." She let out a shuddering breath as another spasm hit. "Go… And tell him… I'm sorry…"
His features twisted in dismay but at her pleading gaze, he broke, nodding.
Her eyes fell closed, a tear spilling down her temple, and she smiled, her lip quivering. "Thanks… Vash."
He watched in horror as her body stilled. An anguished, disbelieving cry sprang from his throat, but it did no good. She couldn't hear it any longer. The newly emboldened soldiers began firing again, and with a final sob, he rose to face them. He shot back, downing a couple more, but a bullet burying itself in his right shoulder forced him to retreat.
He had to get out of here. He couldn't get injured any worse than this—not now. He had to get to the others. He had to keep his promise to Kira, though protecting Knives might become very difficult when he learned what had happened.
x.x.x.x.x
The energy continued to pulse as Knives stood with his hands and forehead pressed to the bulb, his eyes tightly closed. He'd considered opening them a few times, but was afraid of what he'd see… or wouldn't see. He simply remained in a meditative state, breathing deeply, allowing the energy to flow through him. At least the burning in his eyes had subsided somewhat.
Occasionally he was distantly aware of Meryl, saying something placating to the engineers about the very prolonged visit. Though he wasn't entirely sure of the time, he would guess it had been several hours already. He hoped it wouldn't take many more. Even if the engineers appreciated their chance to peek into the world of the angels, they'd run out of patience at some point…
Brother.
The sudden whispering voices jogged him from his thoughts.
Yes…?
We have finished. Your eyes are whole, once again.
With that, the piercing stream stopped and he almost sank to the ground in relief. He lifted his head and slowly raised his eyelids. He couldn't contain the victorious laugh that burst from his lips as he stared into the throng on the other side of the bulb, taking in the exquisite detail of their faces.
How can I ever thank you?
Do what you can to protect our siblings, and the humans.
And the humans… He thought back to all the people who'd expressed their gratitude, and wished he could walk among them as himself. 'Doing what he could' would be difficult without his brother's persona wrapped around him.
I will do my best. I promise to try.
With that it was over. In an almost synchronized movement, the angels arced away, gliding back toward the center of the dome. He exhaled softly and dropped his hands, stepping back. A gentle murmur caught his attention and he turned to the group of people who had been watching in awe.
His eyes came to rest on the two humans who had made this possible and he gave them a grateful smile, inclining his head towards them. He was in their debt. Their faces lit up as they realized that the plan had been a resounding success. Meryl returned his smile warmly and Millie looked like she would have been bouncing up and down from happiness if the camera hadn't been resting on her shoulder.
"Well…? How are they? What did they say?" came a tense voice from one of the engineers.
Oh, right. "They are adjusting well. They thank you for your efforts and would like you to continue your close watch of their environment."
"What was that light surrounding you?" another asked.
Though he hadn't seen it himself, it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were referring to. But how to answer… Hm… The truth? "They channeled their energy into me. I was recently injured in a small altercation and asked for their assistance in repairing the damage."
A stunned silence hung in the air until Meryl broke it with a nervous fake laugh. "Ahaha. Sorry—I probably should have mentioned that before we came in." Her gaze snapped to Knives and, unseen by the engineers at her back, she glared viciously.
He simply smirked in response, still far too elated to care.
After a few more questions Meryl made an excuse to cut the interview short and bid their hosts a gracious goodbye. They made their way out of the cavernous control room, down a long, brightly lit hallway, and back through the lobby to a pair of large steel doors at the front of the building. Knives hoped the crowd had dispersed. He didn't want his lighthearted mood spoiled by being forced to endure the endless, torturous praises again. The trio stepped into the sunlight, the heavy doors closing behind them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Not a person in sight!
Wait…
His eyes narrowed. Why was it so quiet? He expected the crowd to dissipate somewhat, but there should be a few people going about their daily business, at the very least. The street was empty as far as the eye could see—as if it had been cleared. Gazing up at the windows of the nearest buildings, Knives caught a few faces peering out nervously.
"Something's wrong," Meryl said, her voice hushed.
"Should we go back inside, see if there's another exit?" Knives murmured.
"I think it's too late for that," she replied sharply, gesturing.
Sure enough, soldiers were stepping out of the shadows of the buildings, surrounding them.
"What's the meaning of this?" Meryl called out. "In case you've forgotten, this man no longer has a bounty on his head," she snapped.
"He isn't in trouble. Our captain would simply like to speak with him."
A furious retort was forming in Knives' throat when Meryl laughed, one of her bracing, condescending laughs. "Well this is the first time I've seen an entire armed convoy sent out as a welcome party. And who exactly might your captain be?" she asked, knowing full well the answer.
"We'll let him answer that," their representative countered. "If you could please come with us."
"I'm sorry, but we have a prior engagement. Feel free to send him our sincere apologies."
"I'm afraid I must insist," the man said sternly, raising his gun. The soldiers around him followed suit.
Meryl gave him a biting smile. "I thought you might," she said, putting her arms into her cloak.
Both sides remained frozen, waiting, the air growing heavy with tension. Knives' lip curled in anger as he glanced around, searching desperately for a way to help. The little reporter might be good, but she couldn't hope to take on all of these soldiers by herself. There were just too many. It'd only take one lucky shot and she'd be done, along with Millie and him.
Could they run?
No. There was nowhere to go. The soldiers had them pinned down. Even if they tried to dash back inside, they'd probably be shot before they could open the door.
They were screwed.
Knives clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing, resolving to take at least one of these fuckers with him, when he became faintly aware of the drumming of approaching footsteps. The soldiers too glanced around, unsure of whom to expect. Whoever it was, they were moving fast. The figure skidded around the corner at the end of the block, kicking up a cloud of dust, and Knives' heart leapt at the sight. Vash!
Without a moment's pause, the aqua-eyed plant began firing, the rapid percussion of his shots echoing off the surrounding buildings. As expected, his aim was true, and the sand was soon splashed with blood. The soldiers rushed to face the new assailant, and Meryl used the distraction to her advantage. Her cape flew open, revealing her derringer rig. With practiced control and remarkable speed, her hands danced; grabbing a pair of pistols, firing, and then returning immediately for a new pair. Like Vash, her shots rarely missed their mark.
The battle was over almost as soon as it began, and most of the unsuspecting soldiers were now moaning in the sand.
"This way!" barked Vash, his gun arm extended, his eyes blazing.
"Come on," Millie said, tugging Knives' arm and running over to Vash. Meryl followed behind them, keeping her guns steady, waiting for someone to make a move.
"We need to find a place to hide," Vash said quietly when she reached his side.
"North. The north side is still pretty empty—we should head that way for now."
He nodded.
"Follow me," Meryl called to the others, sprinting down the nearest street. Millie and Knives followed with Vash not far behind.
x.x.x.x.x
Meryl took a meandering path through the maze of plaster buildings, wisely keeping them on the quieter streets. Their pace was relentless. When they finally slowed to a more manageable speed, the soldiers were far behind them and they were all panting from their efforts. As the tension settled a bit and Knives could finally think again, a troubling fact became apparent. He cast a confused look at his brother and asked the obvious question. "Where's Kira?"