A wailing moan tore through the air, startling Knives awake. He rolled off the top bunk, a moment before he remembered where the hell he was and landed heavily on the floor where he found Kira, curled into a ball on her bunk, clutching at her head and trembling violently.
Shit! The shield!
He put it back up and her cries stopped instantly, though her breathing was still fast and erratic.
"What's going on?" Vash called out as he made his way across the room, but Knives was too busy tending to Kira to answer.
He ran his fingers gently through her hair and whispered quiet, soothing words to her.
"I can't do this," she whimpered, wiping a hand over her cheeks, her eyes still full of tears. "I can't do it. I can't! I tried to push them out but there's so many. There's just—there's too many!"
"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he murmured softly. "What happened just now was my fault," he admitted. "I thought I could maintain the shield subconsciously while I slept, but apparently that is not the case." A wrinkle formed between his brows. How were they going to deal with this hiccup going forward? The telepathy didn't seem to affect her while she slept, so they could try to sleep at the same time, but if she rose before him again…? "Maybe Vash and I can take turns shielding you at night," he pondered aloud.
"Yeah!" Vash chirped up. "I can do that!"
She looked up at Knives, exhaustion lining her face. "Is it always going to be like this?"
He shook his head firmly, almost angrily. "No. It may take time, but your mind will adjust."
"… And if it doesn't?"
"Then I'll keep shielding you," he said with resolve. "We will," he amended, glancing over at Vash.
"I'm scared," she choked out, her voice on the verge of breaking. "I'm… I just… This is so much… and I…" She let out a shuddering breath. "I just wish things could go back to normal. I wish…" She took another unsteady breath, her bottom lip trembling. "I wish my m-mom was here." She shattered as soon as the words left her mouth. Her face crumpled and wretched sobs shook her shoulders.
He had no idea what to do. The last comment had completely thrown him. They hadn't really discussed her family since they arrived in Octovern, ages ago. He knew he should comfort her and that she'd forgiven him, but it felt strange to do so after a statement like that.
Vash gave him an exasperated shove, ending his hesitation.
Right.
Knives pulled her into his chest and did his best to calm her, holding her close and stroking her back. And slowly, very slowly, her sobs subsided. Once her breathing had finally returned to normal, she pulled away and he let his arms drop. She wiped tears from her cheeks a second time, and looked up at him, her face red.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, knowing the apology was entirely insufficient. His apologies always were—always would be. Words would never be enough to make up for his past mistakes. Not for her. Not for Vash. Not for anyone. "Is there anything I can do?"
She swallowed thickly and shook her head, glancing at Vash before fixing her gaze on the covers. "It's just… a lot. All of this. And you. And everything before. And… I'm so tired of things changing all the time. I'm just… I'm just tired."
"You should try to rest," he said gently. "Both of you," he added with a quick look at Vash. They'd need their energy to heal. "I'll stay awake. I promise, I won't leave you unprotected again."
She nodded and laid her head on the pillow, her back to him, pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders. Knives took it as his cue to leave, though he couldn't help but worry about the aloof behavior. Was she upset with him? Maybe she hadn't forgiven him as much as he thought. Yes, she cried in his arms—she let him embrace her—but maybe she was just too tired and distraught to push him away.
Did she blame him for all of this? It wouldn't surprise him. It was his fault.
Everything that had gone wrong in her life was his fault.
He had to make it up to her. He had to protect her—to find some way to fix this.
Vash returned to his bed as well, sinking into it with a pained groan. He'd probably be aching for a few more days. His ribs would take a while to heal fully.
Knives found a spot on the floor where he could sit with his back against a wall. This would do. Though his eyes were still heavy he wouldn't let them fall closed. Instead, he stared blankly across the room and allowed his mind drift through probabilities, and strategies, and occasionally even optimistic dreams. He tried to think of every possible outcome that might await them, while the sounds of Kira and Vash, both deep in peaceful slumber, created a comforting backdrop.
He needed a plan. Was there any way to shift the board so they would all survive—any way they could stay together? It seemed impossible. Too much of their fate depended on forces outside of his control. He hated being so helpless.
x.x.x.x.x
A soft knock on the door work Vash and Kira the following morning, and a pair of soldiers entered, carrying three trays of food. The companions ate silently, and after breakfast, Vash took over shielding Kira, giving Knives a chance to rest.
He fell asleep quickly and woke up several hours later to find Vash and Kira chatting quietly on her bunk. He immediately hopped down and took in her appearance. He was pleased to find that some of the tension had eased from her face, and her color was more vibrant.
"You missed the doc," Vash said cheerfully, an obnoxious grin curving his lips. How could he be lighthearted at a time like this? "He thought sleep was the best thing for you, so he didn't wake you up."
The man was probably right. "What did he say about you two?"
"Said we both look like we're on the mend. He was surprised to see a noticeable improvement in Kira's wound," Vash said, giving her a light nudge. "Guess she's healing faster now."
She grimaced. She clearly wasn't pleased with her new trait, even if it was beneficial.
"How are you feeling?" Knives asked, turning to her, unable to mask the concern in his voice.
"Still a little… overwhelmed," she admitted, "but better."
He offered her a false smile, hoping it looked better Vash's usually did. He didn't like the reservation in her voice, but… he supposed it was understandable. It would take time for her to adjust to the various changes—changes she had never asked for. Changes she didn't seem to want…
Why didn't she want this? The question gnawed at him. The telepathy he could understand, but the rest of it…
Fuck. He pushed the question out of his head. It really didn't matter 'why.' It was simply the truth of the situation. She didn't want to be a plant and it would take time for her to adjust to her new reality. He needed to patient. And he needed to do whatever he could to help her through it. His opinion on the matter was unimportant.
x.x.x.x.x
It was late afternoon when the door slid open and Chronica stepped through, not even trying to conceal the venom in her gaze. Both Vash and Knives stood and greeted her sheepishly. Kira, who was sitting on the bed, propped up against a pillow, waved hello, a smile brightening her features.
Chronica smiled back, her wrath momentarily suspended. "It's good to see you," she said warmly. "I'm glad you are still with us."
"Yeah, me too," Kira said, half joking and half sincere. "It's all thanks to these two."
Chronica's expression soured again. "Yes. So I've heard," she said, turning to the twins. "It seems you caused quite a commotion."
"Well, you see—"
"We had to—"
They spoke at the same time, and both stopped instantly, waiting for the other to continue.
Chronica smirked and went on. "You'll be happy to know that we have arrested Garrow. We'll be taking him back to Octovern when we return."
"Dark Eyes!" Knives said suddenly, realizing he'd forgotten to alert anyone to the bastard's presence. "The last of the techs! I left him unconscious on the shuttle, but I forgot to tell the soldiers about him."
To be fair, he'd been somewhat distracted at the time… The bastard had probably escaped by now.
"Well, we already know his identity, thanks to the others. It won't take long to find him. The real question is what we should do about you," she said, her gaze fixed on Knives. "They contacted the admiral before I arrived. He was already aware of our venture to arrest Garrow and is supportive of it, but you are an entirely different matter. He's on his way here. Apparently, he wants to deal with this in person."
Vash made a face. "Can't you… I don't know… just leave our door unlocked or something?"
She shook her head. "I'm in enough trouble as it is for keeping Knives a secret. Besides, they have a very thorough detail on guard," she said, gesturing to the door. "You wouldn't make it very far. Especially unarmed. And I assume you'd want to bring Kira with you?" she said, raising a brow, highlighting the fact that Kira couldn't possibly sprint through a ship full of enemy soldiers in her current state. When neither brother spoke, she let out an annoyed huff at their lack of foresight. "There's another matter we need to discuss. I need to know what happened yesterday. The stories I heard were rather… dramatic."
Knives pursed his lips, glancing over at Vash and Kira, both of whom remained silent, giving him the chance to answer. He trusted Chronica, but he didn't want more people than necessary to know about Kira. Then again, the blond already knew half of the story. She'd probably guessed the rest and would likely be their greatest ally in keeping Kira safe.
Only slightly regretting his decision, he explained what had happened, including the pertinent details of Kira's situation and requirements for her ongoing survival. Chronica looked appalled.
"I see," she murmured when he finished. She walked over to Kira and sat on the edge of the bed, an expression of sympathy on her face. "And how are you?"
Kira let out a weary, mirthless laugh. "I keep switching back and forth between terrified and numb, honestly."
Chronica nodded, her brows knitted together. "I'm sure. Would you be willing to come with me and speak to a few of my associates?"
"No!" Knives barked, panic surging inside him. "Not without me!"
Chronica's eyes darted to him. "You are too hot-headed for this. Besides, it's her decision, not yours. I can take over shielding her—she'll be fine." She turned back to Kira. "I want you to meet my commander and a few of the plants on my team. I want them to see firsthand what Garrow has done to you."
Kira frowned, but nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay… Okay."
Knives made a complaining noise and she looked over at him.
"I'll be with Chronica—it'll be fine."
"Um… maybe I should come too?" Vash asked.
Chronica paused, thinking. "Yes, I believe they would like the chance to meet you as well. But you must promise to be on your best behavior, and you must let me take the lead."
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
She hummed. "Very well. Then let's be on our way," she said, rising. "Time is of the essence, after all. The more people we can get on our side before the admiral arrives, the better."
Vash grabbed the wheelchair and moved it to where Kira had pushed herself off the bed. She really was healing quickly. She sank into it with a grunt and Vash pushed her to the door. He cast a short, apologetic look at Knives, but they both knew they didn't have much say in the matter. This was their best option.
Chronica knocked and the guards let them out, closing the door securely behind them.
And now, he was alone. Trapped. And Kira was no longer under his protection.
His mind ran wild.
x.x.x.x.x
Kira gazed nervously at the astonished group of people peering down upon her.
"A plant…?" said one woman curiously. Kira made note of her shining blond hair and her perfectly symmetric, regal features. One of the plants, most likely.
"Yes," Chronica answered.
"She may not look it, but you can feel the energy coming from her gate," Vash added.
The woman stepped forward, approaching Kira. "May I?" she asked.
It took Kira half a moment to understand what she wanted. She extended her left arm compliantly. "Go ahead."
The woman placed her hand over the gate and took a sharp breath in, obviously surprised.
"But… she wasn't like this before?" the woman asked, stepping back as a few more of the figures came over to examine Kira's gate.
Vash nodded. "She was human."
"Yesterday, her energy manifested physically," Chronica explained. "That's what happened in the hangar. It appears she has first gen attributes, probably a result of using Knives' DNA to create the serum."
The figures glanced at each other warily.
"Is it possible to get a demonstration?" a man with tightly cropped hair and a goatee asked.
Kira blanched. They wanted… a demonstration? Just the memory of the inexplicably gray 'flesh,' twisted and deformed, coming from her arm made her shudder. And the feeling of it. The prickling, almost throbbing vibration of the energy pulsing down through those… those blades. And knowing that she had somehow made it happen. It was a part of her now. It was petrifying.
Not to mention the fact that she had absolutely no idea of how any of it worked. Even if she wanted to demonstrate, she couldn't.
"I don't know how," she answered honestly, hoping it would be enough to get her out of it.
"She doesn't have control yet," Vash added.
Several of the figures who'd inspected her gate nodded, seeming to understand. Definitely plants.
"And she cannot survive the telepathy?" the man asked.
"We're not willing to drop the shield to find out," Vash answered a little tersely.
The first woman who had spoken surveyed him sympathetically. "You're shielding her now?"
"Yeah."
She turned to Kira. "Could you describe what it feels like when you aren't being shielded?"
"It's… it's loud. It's like there's this… roar of… of voices and… emotions? And… I don't know. Thoughts? But… they're sharp. It's like they're cutting me. Or… ripping at me. It's hard to explain," she finished lamely.
The woman nodded. "And… Millions Knives," she said, her eyes meeting Chronica's. "You're sure he's innocent in all of this? He's not just trying to create his own army?"
"I'm sure," Chronica answered firmly.
"They used him," Kira murmured, thinking back on when Garrow had described the cruel experiments he'd witnessed. "They tortured him. Garrow had a vendetta against him. None of this is his fault." She raised her eyes. "What will you do with him?"
"You're worried about him," someone asked, incredulous.
Kira nodded. "Yes, I am. Very much so."
"That matter will be discussed when the admiral arrives," Chronica answered quickly. "But I'll do what I can," she affirmed. "He did manage to rescue you without killing anyone. There may be hope for him yet." She offered a wry smile, easing Kira's heart just a little.
x.x.x.x.x
Knives was laying on his bunk when they returned. He practically fell off of it in his rush to get to them. "Are you okay," he said hurriedly, dropping to a knee beside Kira's chair, his blue eyes wide.
She couldn't help but smile in amusement. "I'm fine. They were actually pretty nice," she said, hoping to calm him down.
His tension seemed to ease, just a bit. "Would you like me to take over," he said, glancing up at Vash, who rolled his eyes at Knives' imperious need for control.
"Go ahead."
Kira felt the transition as Knives put a barrier around her and Vash let his fall away. It was strange, experiencing the difference in their energies. Knives' was so much sharper. More astringent. It flickered and prickled like sparks between them. Vash's was soft. Almost like a static field around her.
"Vash, I'd actually like you to come with me to meet with a few more people and discuss… well… Knives," Chronica said bluntly. "I think it might be most effective if you were there to help represent him."
"I can't represent myself?" Knives said hotly, drawing a cutting laugh from Chronica.
"Not if you want to make it through this alive." Her eyes sparkled. "Just stay with Kira, and let your brother and I handle this mess."
He glowered, but didn't complain any further. Chronica and Vash exited, leaving Knives and Kira on their own. Kira grunted and pushed herself up out of the chair. Knives quickly put an arm out to help her, but she gently nudged him away.
"It's okay. I can do it," she said, sitting down on the bed on her own.
He nodded and sat beside her quietly. They both stared aimlessly across the room before he finally broke the silence. "So. Is there anything you'd like to know?"
"About?"
"I thought you might have… questions. About being a plant."
A sardonic smile curved her lips. "Only about everything."
"Anything you'd like to start with?"
Her lips tightened for a moment. "The blades." They'd been weighing on her more than anything. "I feel like… like I really could have hurt someone."
"Your fear is understandable, but I can assure you, they're easy to control," he said quickly. He took her hand, raising it so it was extended in front of her. "It's… You have to…" His brows knitted together as he tried to find the right words. "The energy listens to your mind. All you have to do is will it to extend, and it will obey."
Kira frowned, staring at her hand in his. "But… is there a way to get it not to do that?"
"You're afraid you'll create a blade unintentionally?"
"Yeah."
"The only way that can happen is if your conscious mind relinquishes control. Your manifestation yesterday was more of an instinctive reaction. Your energy was drawn out subconsciously by the intensity of the situation."
"But that won't normally happen?"
"No. If we weren't pinned down and our lives weren't in danger, I don't think it would have happened at all." He paused briefly. "So… would you like to try it? Creating a blade?" he asked, raising a brow and dropping his hand from her still extended arm.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Now?"
He smirked. "A little practice might ease your mind."
"And… and you're sure I won't hurt anyone?"
His smile softened. "I promise. Your energy will obey you."
Okay… okay.
After a final moment of hesitation, she let out a deep breath, and concentrated, visualizing, almost feeling a tiny pulse of energy spiking from her arm. A comically small blade no larger than a pocketknife arced out gracefully, drawing a gasp from Kira. Knives hadn't been lying; it really was easy! Though it still looked strange, the blade was the size she'd imagined in her mind. She wondered how much control she had over it. Could she…
The blade grew a longer and snaked around her forearm. She reached out with her other hand and hovered over strange, gray material. She was amazed at the heat radiating from it. She ran a finger along the blade and jumped in surprise when she could actually feel it!
Knives released a low chuckled beside her.
"That's…" She didn't know what to say. Amazing? Horrifying? Overwhelming, for sure. She tried to pull the blade back in and it withdrew immediately. She ran her fingers over the now smooth skin of her arm. "I… I know you said I have control, but have you ever created a blade accidentally? I mean, not because of some subconscious thing, but… I don't know. Like when you were angry or something?"
A pang of guilt twisted his features. "When I was angry, yes. But it was never accidental," he said slowly. Regretfully. "The blades were my preferred method…"
For killing. Her stomach knotted at his unspoken words. At the grotesque reality of what he was saying.
"I thought they made me invincible. Safe. But I was… mistaken." He looked away, shame written plainly on his face. "I was wrong. In so many ways," he murmured.
"Knives." It suddenly clicked. "Your name?"
"Yes," he confirmed, looking slightly embarrassed. "When Vash and I were children and we first began exhibiting displays of our energies, his looked like feathers, and mine looked like… well, like yours. I asked Rem if I could change my name to Millions Knives because I thought it was… cool." He winced, pink coloring his cheeks.
She giggled. It felt amazingly good to laugh. "Knives…" she said, trying to imagine the precocious little plant pleading with Rem to call him something that was so… unsubtle. "And Vash had… feathers?"
He nodded, his lips curving into small smile.
She wrinkled her nose. "Did I inherit this from you, then? The 'blade-like' energy?"
"I suspect that might be the case, though I can't say for sure. I've never seen another plant's energy, besides Vash's, and the second gen plants like Chronica can't manifest their energy like we can." He shrugged. "There isn't much basis for comparison."
"Right." She paused and made a second, still very small blade before drawing it back into her arm. "Okay. So, anything else can I do?"
"The angel arm. Although I suspect Chronica really would kill me if I showed you how to use that."
Another weapon? Must be. In that case, she didn't even want to know.
"What else?" she asked.
"Telepathy, obviously. You'll be able to do all of the things I did to you, once you gain control. You also have increased physical functions—healing, dexterity, reflexes. That's how you were able to react so quickly when the guns fired."
Interesting. "Strength?"
"Not so much. But your body will respond more quickly to exercise and that sort of thing. It easier to maintain your peak physical condition."
"So… healing. How much faster is it?"
He grinned. "Normally, you'll heal about three times as fast as a human."
She flinched when he said 'human.' Just another reminder that she no longer was one. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice.
"You'll also be able to recover from more extreme injuries. Things that would kill a human are not necessarily fatal to us. And, it's technically possible to use your energy to heal yourself, but it's not worth the drain, except in an emergency. Remember, you only have a limited amount. Once your energy is gone—"
"I die," she finished. "And… my lifespan?"
His breath caught and he shifted nervously. "It's probable… At least, I hope…" He raised his eyes. "I believe your lifespan might have been extended—your aging slowed. But it's hard to be certain."
She nodded, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn't entirely sure of how to feel about that. Yes, it took down one of the main complications between her and Knives, but at what cost? If he was right—if her life were extended—she'd have to watch helplessly as her human friends died around her. Meryl and Millie… She couldn't quite bring herself to be happy about it.
His voice disrupted her musings. "Do you…?" He paused. "So much has happened, and your feelings may have changed, so I must ask… Do you still wish to be with me?" He stared at her anxiously, his bearing exuding a tightly coiled tension. He seemed to be preparing for the worst.
She gave him a look of confusion. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because this is all my fault. And… after what you said last night…"
Her brows furrowed. Last night? What had she…?
"You 'wished your mother were here,'" he clarified, reading her expression. "And I thought that… maybe you have regrets?" He looked away.
Oh. Right.
"First—this wasn't your fault. At all. And second—what I said last night… Yes, I miss that comfort. I do. And not just my mom, but all of them. I'll always miss them, and I'll always wish they were still here with me, and I am sorry if that makes you feel guilty, but it doesn't change how I feel about you." She put a hand on his. "I know who you are. And I've accepted what happened for what it was."
"It was a mistake," he said softly, tightening his fingers around hers.
"It was a mistake," she repeated.
"And I regret it." He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "I don't… understand… how you are able to forgive me. But, I want you to know how much it means to me," he said, meeting her eyes. "I'm grateful to have met you. And I know you don't feel as I do, but I want you to know how much I love you."
Her heart thumped in her chest as words of reciprocation caught in her throat. Somehow, she still couldn't bring herself to release them. Instead, she nodded, lacing her fingers with his. "I'm grateful too." She leaned into him so her head was resting against his shoulder. "I… I wish you could have met them."
He placed a kiss on her temple. "So do I."
x.x.x.x.x
Kira was once again sleeping when Vash returned, carrying their bags. It seems the soldiers had taken them in as evidence from the hotel, and Knives was incredibly grateful for a change of clothes. He perked up as his brother walked through the door, carefully shifting Kira's head from where it rested on his arm to a pillow. He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her and caught the bag his brother tossed to him.
"Well?" Knives asked, keeping his voice low so they didn't wake Kira.
Vash sat tiredly on his bunk and winced, a hand going to his ribs. "We spoke with the admiral over the sat-phone and explained what's going on. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole situation. I guess he was vaguely aware that Garrow had 'found a way' to make terraforming happen, but the admiral didn't really know the details. He entrusted it all to Garrow and never imagined that this was what the captain was working on. He's appalled by what happened to Kira and all the others who didn't make it. He promised she'll be protected from any kind of compulsory experimentation, but I think he's hoping she'll willingly submit to some testing."
"I'd rather she didn't," Knives bristled.
"It's her choice."
"… I know."
Vash looked at him even more seriously. "We also discussed you. He's not sure what to do with you. Technically, your sentence still stands—"
Knives let out a harsh laugh, hoping it would mask the fear that weighed like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Execution. The universe must really love fucking with him. "I take it they'll make sure I'm actually dead this time."
"It doesn't matter. I won't let it get that far. We told him about everything you did. You're the one who shed light on what Garrow was up to. And we told him about everything that happened to you while you were imprisoned, and about Tessla, and how you feel about humans now."
How he felt about humans? He wasn't even sure—not entirely. He was ashamed for judging them so broadly; ashamed for drawing conclusions with so little evidence to support his views; ashamed for dismissing them as primarily selfish, ignorant, and vicious creatures. But… they still made mistakes. And they still made him nervous. They probably always would.
Vash went on. "I think he actually sympathizes with what you went through. He's going to hold a meeting when he arrives tomorrow, and he wants us to be there. Kinda like an informal trial, I think. We'll discuss all of this and he'll make a decision on how to proceed."
Knives nodded.
"Listen," Vash said gently, "I know this is a lot, and you're probably nervous, or angry, or whatever, but you have to try to work with him—with the Federation in general. There will probably be suggestions that you don't agree with, but you can't overreact. Your opinion is just that—an opinion. Not a fact."
"I understand." The situation was delicate. He needed to keep his temper in check.
"You have to be willing to compromise. Just… know that I'm on your side. So are Kira and Chronica. We'll be there together, so trust us to support you. It's probably best if you let us do the fighting—you just keep quiet unless they ask you something directly."
Knives nodded again. This was going to be difficult but… "I'll try."