Author's Notes:  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Desperate Child By Annie-chan Chapter Three:  Foreign Flesh

It was night.  The sky was clear, and the stars shown brightly.  The Third Moon had risen almost ninety degrees in the sky, and the Second Moon was about halfway between it and the horizon.  The Fourth Moon and the First Moon hadn't risen yet, and the Fifth Moon had waned completely.  It wouldn't make an appearance tonight.

Deep inside the headquarters of a conspiracy few humans knew about, Legato Bluesummers, now a young man of eighteen, noticed none of this.  He was in a small, windowless, dimly lit room.  His master had just left, and would be back in a few minutes.  Legato was waiting to receive the gift Master told him about earlier that day.  He had been puzzled when Master told him that he was going to give him something very important to him, and had been shocked when Master had shown him what it was.  The arm of Vash the Stampede, Master's twin brother, preserved for many years in perfect condition inside one of the plants.  Master had told him that he had finally grown enough—having just gotten over his final growth spurt—to have it.

He had been confused.  How could the severed arm of Master's brother be of any use to him?  He had experienced a flash of fear when Master made it plain that this arm was to physically replace his own arm.  That meant amputation, and he felt the natural apprehension at that suggestion.  No matter.  He would do anything his master asked.  Master needed his brother at his side, and this was the only way to do that for now.  Legato was the replacement, and had to be as much like Master's twin as possible.

Master had also told him of an intriguing aspect of gaining his twin's appendage:  theoretically, Legato would be able to utilize the Angel Arm if need be.  He would of course need either his master's gun or the gun of Vash the Stampede to activate it, and it was uncertain if he would ever need or want to use it—his own psychic abilities tended to be much less spectacular, and they didn't want any unwanted attention—but it meant that the arm would be available for Master to use, through an order to Legato, if he saw sufficient reason for it.  Master had two of his own, of course, but you never knew.

Now, Legato lay on a simple mattress on the floor, dressed only in his pants.  Master had told him to lay there on his back and to stay there.  Next to the mattress was a needle, thread, and a long, wickedly sharp knife.  Legato didn't think about them at the moment.  He would be going through enough pain soon, so there was no reason to think about it right now and make it worse.

The door opened, and Master walked back in the room, carrying a long object wrapped in cloth.  Legato didn't move as Master knelt down next to him and set the object—apparently the arm—on the floor.  Legato felt his right arm and both his legs suddenly held in an unbreakable grip.  Master was holding them down with a mind trick, to keep Legato from moving around.  He could still move his head, and he turned his head to look at what was being done.  Master picked up the knife from the floor.  The blade glinted, even in the dim light, betraying its razor sharpness as the light slid down its impossibly thin edge.

Master took hold of his left arm and pulled it out straight at a forty-five-degree angle from his body.  The knife-edge pressed lightly against his skin, Master silently measuring where to cut.  He noticed Legato's minute trembling, and spoke.

"Calm down.  This will be over in a minute."  Legato forced himself to stay still.

With sudden speed and inhuman strength, the knife ripped through his flesh, going through skin, muscle, and bone in one stroke.  A bestial, agonized scream rent the air.

Legato could not move as the pain stabbed through him, so intense he felt it throughout his entire body.  Unconscious tears of anguish streamed down his face, and his breath came in gasps, making it hard for him to get oxygen.  He felt blackness creeping up on him.  No!  He will not lose consciousness!

"It's all right," he heard Master's soothing voice say as he took the human arm away and set it down on the floor.  He picked up his brother's arm and unwrapped the cloth.  "The pain will make you stronger.  Bear it out."

"Y-yes…Mas…Master…" Legato moaned, his voice barely above a whisper.  He had never gone through so much pain before, and it was overwhelming him.  He felt his blood quickly leaving him, and wondered if Master would get the other arm attached before he died.

Master's cool fingers came up against his skin as he put his brother's arm into place.  Legato almost screamed again when he felt the needle pierce his skin as Master joined the arm with Legato's bleeding stump.  Master said nothing.

The pain…the pain was so sharp…so sharp, it was almost sweet.  The coolness of Master's fingertips coupled with the burning hurt made a whole new sensation, something completely different.  It wasn't unpleasant.  He saw the slightest of smiles on Master's face as he looked at him, and realized that Master was enjoying his pain.

He groaned again, not out of pain, but out of pleasure.  The pain was still there, but utterly transformed into something else.  The feel of Master inflicting this upon him, put together with the knowledge that this was what Master enjoyed, changed the sensations coursing through him entirely.

"Sweet…" he murmured.

"What?" Master asked, stopping what he was doing.  He sounded startled at Legato's sudden speech.

"P-please," he begged.  "Don't…don't stop…Master."  He looked pleadingly into Master's eyes.

Master stared at him for a moment, then grinned wickedly.  He understood.  He knew what his servant was pleading for.  The trembling, weeping young psychic was enjoying this, and couldn't help but beg for more.  Master said nothing more, merely returning to what he was doing.

Legato closed his eyes again, letting the sensations flow through him.  It was akin to sexual stimulation, and he knew he was dangerously close to having the same physical reaction.  He put forth all the power he had in his control at the moment to keep his body relatively calm.  It wouldn't do for his body to lose control right now.  His master may not be pleased.  He managed to have no obvious reaction to his pleasure.  Still…God, it felt so good!

He felt Master tie off the thread and cut it with the knife.  He was finished.  Legato almost moaned in disappointment, wishing it could go on longer.  He knew then and there that he would readily give in to any kind of pain his master chose to inflict upon him in the future.  Nothing he had ever encountered before felt so sweet as pleasing his master in that way.  Bandages, which had apparently been in the same cloth as the arm, were wrapped firmly around the newly formed junction, and fastened securely in place.

Strong arms lifted his tall, but somewhat thin, body off the blood-soaked mattress, and bore him out of the room, making sure the left arm was supported.  Legato lay limply against his master's chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sleepy.  Master was rarely this gentle, and the last time had been several years ago, when Legato was still a skittish little boy.

"Rest, now," a soft voice whispered as he was lain down on his own bed a few doors down.  "You can clean up later.  You did well, Legato."

Legato managed a tiny smile, though he knew it wasn't visible in the dark room.  He had pleased his master.  Nothing else made him happier.

He heard Master leave the room, closing the door behind him.  Not ten seconds had gone by, when Legato suddenly felt exceeding sleepy, and he dropped off into darkness for many hours.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you awake?"

Legato's ear twitched minutely at those words.  He clawed his way up out of the deep sleep he had been in, and forced his eyes open.  He was extremely weak, and even that small action seemed almost impossible.

The first thing he saw was blue.  Master's piercing eyes.

"Good," Master said, smiling.  "You're awake.  You kept coming halfway conscious, then dropping back again.  I was wondering if your were ever going to wake up completely."

Legato forced open his dry lips.  "H…ow…lo…ng?"

"Almost two and a half days," Master answered.  "You didn't start waking up then falling back asleep until about four hours ago.  Before that, you could have been dead, for all anyone could tell.  You didn't even twitch when I cleaned you up a few hours after the transplant.  Your breathing and heartbeat were so faint, anyone could have missed them if they didn't look for them well enough."  He paused for a minute.  "You're a strong one, Legato.  Any other human would have died, considering how much blood you lost.  You practically bled dry, and that would have killed most humans easily.  Your survival probably has something to do with that power inside of you."

Legato didn't respond, merely closing his eyes and digesting the new information.  He had almost died.  If he had been any other human, he most certainly would have died.  He hated to admit it, but bleeding as much as he did would have been extremely risky even for Master's superior race.

He clenched his teeth and began to move his right arm.  With supreme effort, he managed to slide it across his body to the bandages on his left arm, touching them.  They were between the shoulder and the middle of the upper arm.  Most of his left arm was now someone else's flesh.  He couldn't feel a thing below the bandages.  He gritted his teeth again and dragged his right arm back over to his right side.  He could hardly breathe now, and a layer of sweat had broken out over his skin.  Master had said nothing the whole time.  He watched him, interested, as if curious to see if Legato could accomplish his endeavors.

"Don't do that," Master said, when Legato had stopped moving.  "You've survived this long.  I don't want you killing yourself just because you haven't the sense to keep still."  He turned away toward the bedside table, then turned back with a small container full of water.  The container was designed to give liquid to people while they lay flat.  "Drink this," he said as he propped Legato's head up a touch and let him drink the water.  "You'll probably speak better with some water.  You're throat's probably bone dry."  He smiled a bit as he took the now empty container away.  "This reminds me a little of the day you first woke up after I took you off the streets."

Legato didn't say anything at first.  Finally, he opened his eyes again and looked Master straight in the eyes.  "Thank…You…Mas…ster," he managed to whisper.  "It is…an…honor…to bear…this…arm…for…You."  He had to take a breath after almost every word, and was almost gasping near the end.  He groaned and closed his eyes again, his head falling to one side.  He didn't fall back asleep.

Master didn't answer.  After a minute of watching his servant lay as if dying, he reached out and took hold of the left hand.  "Can you feel this?"

Legato mouthed "no," not having the strength to voice it.

"I'm guessing everything below the bandages is numb?"

Legato mouthed "yes."

"Feeling will return soon enough," Master explained, letting go of the hand.  "But, it will hurt.  Think of the pins-and-needles feeling you get when a limb falls asleep, and magnify it a couple hundred times.  It's basically the same thing happening, but on a much larger scale this time.  The entire arm is practically dead, not just asleep."

Legato mentally thrilled at the mention of pain.  After the "surgery"…he knew he'd never feel pain the same way again.  He used to fear and avoid it like most humans.  Now, he welcomed the very idea of it, especially if his master was the cause, directly or indirectly.  He had heard of something like this, from some old medical journal his parents had had in the house.  What was it called?

Masochism, that's it.

He had been disgusted with the thought of the "disorder" before two and a half days ago.  He would have smiled if he had had the strength.  It's not so bad, he thought, mentally grinning.

"I'll leave you alone now," he heard Master say.  "You should sleep more.  The best way to recover is to conserve all your energy."  Master stood up off the bed to leave.  With surprising quickness, especially for his weakened state, Legato reached up and grabbed Master's hand, pulling it to him and pressing his lips lightly against it.

"Thank…You…Master," he whispered, after he pulled away.  "You…have…done…so much…for…me."

Master stood still.  After a few seconds, he pulled his hand completely out of Legato's feeble grasp, and began to walk away, not giving a word of response.

Legato's hand fell back to the bed, and his entire body collapsed limply to the bed sheets.  That little burst of energy had exhausted him.  He was asleep before Master even closed the door.

To be continued…

Author's Notes:  I noticed that in this chapter, Knives seems too gentle.  But, I don't think that is too farfetched.  My idea is that Knives is usually cold and calculating when dealing with Legato, but periodically shows a softer side of himself.  That may strengthen the respect and loyalty Legato has for Knives, because it would give him the image of a being that is ultimately perfect and logical in his thinking, but also kind and compassionate.  I get the feeling Legato would worship someone like that much more than someone who is always cruel to him.  Masochist or not, people tend to warm up to other people more readily if that other person shows them kindness.  Anyway, let me know what you think of this at mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!