There ya' go! New chapter! Keep on reviewing!

~~~~~

She never even saw it coming. One moment, she's trudging through the desert sand, singing carefree to the full moon and swinging her shopping bag in rhythm, and then the next, HE is in front of her, that ghostly apparition of a man, leering at her in such a passionate hate. She gasped, tried to back away, but stumbled and fell instead, freezing as their eyes locked.

One of his was purple, and the other, blue... Jeweled orbs in his long, refined face, the glow of the stars making it appear porcelain and almost ageless - so old and wise, while at the same time, youthful. His white hair was tied back loosely at the nape of his neck, body covered in all black, some of the clothing thick and leathery, like a reptile's skin, and at places covered with buckles and straps and zippers, all in such a complicated order that it was hard to sort out.

"I have some questions," he said calmly.

She tried to scoot back and jump to her feet, but he slammed a boot down onto her abdomen, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped, useless as a fish on land.

"Grayfall resides with you now?"

She glared at him affirmatively.

"What about my half-sister?"

At this she looked genuinely confused.

"Oriole."

Stormie was many things. She was a quick study, as well as a quick recovery. She rolled out of the way, and before he could react, rocked onto her shoulders and into a backward somersault. Landing on her knees, she swiftly dodged as he tried to lash out at her. "Why are you asking me about what you already know?" she demanded.

"Why do you think?"

She didn't answer. She didn't know.

"You know," he said, drawing a dagger from a sheath strapped to his thigh, "I like to see things like you suffer. I like to see you bleed and try to act tough even when your entire being is being ripped apart by agony. Because my father was just like you, and that's what he did to my mother and to me. So, you must suffer his sins." He eyed her suggestively, tapping a forefinger to the blade of the knife.

She rolled up one of her sleeves, gritting her teeth. "I'm not accepting this, you freakin' murderer," she spit out, and then grinned right back at him. She was pretty sure she was going to die right then and there, but even if she did, she wasn't going to go down without a fight that would be memorable in his mind for years to come. The muscles strained and spasmed in her forearm and shoulder, beginning to try to stretch to accommodate the oncoming angel arm. A beam of electricity skipped down and around her limb, and then another, and another.

Naoshi only shook his head, unimpressed. Did she really think he hadn't dealt with this before? Such fools, the whole race, such fools...

~~~~~

Vash, for about the fifth time, felt nothing but air between him and the jeep as it careened over yet another sand dune. His fist had clenched around the door, the knuckles turning white, and he once again whispered a prayer that he might survive the wild ride.

Oh, stupid, stupid stupid! He was so stupid for letting Knives drive, for taking the seat with the broken belt! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Knives was a wild man with only one thing on his mind as he pushed the battered vehicle to the limit. He needed to find Stormie - at any cost. His eyes were wide, unaware of the specs of sand accumulating there, and his jaw was clenched tight to keep his teeth from rattling against the bumps they sped over. He had to get there, and he had to get there NOW!

Vash cried out for his brother to slow down after almost being jolted out the window once more.

And Knives did. Suddenly. He slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the side, causing the car to spin into a three-sixty before grinding to a halt. Vash had hit the dashboard with a painful thud and was still foggy on what was happening when he saw his twin throw open the door and jump out, yelling behind him, "Get in the driver seat, Vash!"

Vash scooted over, rubbing his sore jaw. He didn't quite understand what was going on until he caught sight of Knives kneeling in the sand. He was tearing his jacket from his body and throwing it over an object in the sand. Vash registered in his mind with a sick feeling that the object was Stormie.

"Drive, Vash!" screamed Knives, leaping into the front seat with Stormie cradled in his arms. He had wrapped her tightly in his coat, covering her upper body and some of her legs. Still, it was visible that her clothes had been torn - no, more like shredded - and she was bleeding from countless wounds.

Vash took off at a mad pace, driven by a blind fear. He didn't even dare glance over at Stormie for fear he'd wreck. Already the jeep didn't seem like it could take much more. The thing was just a bucket of bolts, it seemed like, and the engine was making frightening guttural noises that sounded like it was about to give out.

"FASTER!" Knives commanded frantically, and it scared Vash, because he had never heard his brother sound so scared and so desperate - not the kind of fear for one's self, but the sort of fear you contain when you know you're about to lose something sacred.

Vash drove faster.

~~~~~

Stormie kept a bulb in her basement for extreme medical cases - she had used it for Knives when he had taken his turn for the worse after the fight. She never expected they'd have to insert her into the machine, used only for high-risk procedures. Then again, she still wasn't conscious. Who knew what she'd really have to say.

Knives just watched the screen from the main room, seeing as how the bulb was in a very small, adjacent room that was made to specially suit the needs of the bulb. It's temperature was easily adjusted, the patient was more 'protected', the room was dark for a calm atmosphere, and, according to Stormie, it was just plain easier to observe. Knives didn't like her methods. He'd rather be in there - with her - watching the patient face to face, making sure she seemed comfortable and content, not just staring at the data the computer presented to him.

Why was Stormie always talking about the importance of temperature and computers?

Would Stormie even be able to talk about anything again...?

A few days passed and there was, surprisingly, a drastic improvement. She was well enough that Oriole declared it best to take her out of the bulb and sentence her to a bed. Although Knives disagreed, the woman was adamant about it, and in another day, her decision was final. Stormie still didn't wake though.

The Harpers, Meryl's family, didn't leave. Meryl saw the great stress on the plants and put her family to work trying to help them. She cooked, Billy cleaned, and Vincent, although he had to report to work on the weekdays, drove out to help on the weekend. It was strange really - and it made Knives very edgy. What was this human trying to move in for? She still had feelings for Vash - he knew it! Her prolonging the visit was a bad sign. She wanted to be close to Vash, and he wasn't complaining. But just how far would this go...?

Billy, a typical snobby seventeen year old, wasn't pleased either. She complained day and night, titling their stay as 'the vacation from hell'. Frankly, Knives agreed with her. Having more people underfoot got in the way of his caring for Stormie.

As for Grayfall - he'd nearly disappeared. Stormie was proof that Naoshi was still out there and setting up a time and place to kill them, and it scared him. He spent most of his time alone, never reaching out to anyone. It was obvious he wanted to leave, but it seemed like he had become attached to the plants. No one quite knew why.

One day, as he sat with Stormie at her bedside, Knives became aware of a presence behind him and turned to see Grayfall there, the tall, elegant man the exact picture of his father, grim frown in place. Even his hair style was the same, the dark chocolate hair lazily draping over one golden eye - it was uncanny.

"What do you want?" asked Knives softly, and when Grayfall didn't say anything, he sighed. "I'm sorry about Legato," he told the young man begrudgingly.

"Sorry isn't what I came for," he replied, just as gruffly. "I wanna know about Stormie."

"She's bad. Real bad."

"Oh."

"Grayfall, I'd like to be alone."

"Tough. I've been alone all my life and it's the last thing I've wanted."

"Leave."

"Do you think you control me? You own my soul like you owned my father's?"

"...you've been...doing some reading."

"Yes. The journal."

There was tense silence between them, and for a while, it seemed nothing could be said. And then, Knives came up with a most simple and profound gesture. He stood up, faced Grayfall directly, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took him away from you."

Grayfall nodded, and whether Knives expected him to shed tears or show emotions, he was disappointed, for his face was stone cold. He sat down beside where Knives had been and the plant resumed his past position. "Now - I want to talk."

"About...?"

"About Naoshi. I think we should get out of his range - move away from where he can find us."

"No."

"Why? I - I know he's coming soon! I can feel it!"

"There is something about Vash and Stormie and even something about me that has developed lately. We do not run away from battles. It only prolongs the fight. We will stop Naoshi ourselves, when the time is right. We will take our revenge."

"How long?!" cried out Grayfall, lowering his gaze to the floor, hands clenched into painfully tight fists. "How long will you wait?! Stormie has already had this - had this done to her! Knives, don't you understand what he did to her out in the desert?! Don't you see some of her wounds and know what they mean?"

Knives glared at Grayfall, silently commanding him not to speak the words out loud. Of course he knew what Naoshi had done to Stormie when she was helpless - how could he not?

"If you allow your loved ones to be beaten within an inch of their lives, and you still hold off on your revenge, continuing to sit here and do nothing, what will it take to motivate you, Knives?!"

"I will not be pressured into this by the likes of you!"

"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! Knives! I am not pressuring you! I am worried and I should not even have to be discussing this with you! You should be either running with Vash and Stormie or out there ensuring this never happens again!"

"I will," Knives ground out, "in good time."

Grayfall just stood up, turning to walk away. But he stopped, his back to Knives, hand on the door frame. "I know that you don't want to admit it," he whispered, "and I know that no one will say it out loud, but it's all Vash and Oriole and I are thinking about now. You know, Knives...he tortured her in worse ways than you can imagine out there. She's going to have some issues when she wakes up. If you're not willing to defend her now, when will you? When she's dead?" And he shook his head as he continued out, leaving the other man to his thoughts.

~~~~~

Stormie woke up the next day, and true to Grayfall's predictions, she was just a shell of herself, haunted by her experience. When her eyes first fluttered open, Knives was there, holding her hand loosely in his, and when she recalled where she was and why she was in pain, tears flooded to her eyes and she looked away from him guiltily. She had not been strong. He tried to speak her name, but she shook her head and refused to even reply, her mind crying for him to leave.

And he did.

Oriole went into the room after him and came out even more sober than usual, declaring the mind of the plant was a horrible mess, torn and shredded and mangled in its misery. "I nearly passed out from all the grief that glanced upon my mind from hers," she said quietly, and then looked at Knives pointedly. "I'm leaving soon. Grayfall is coming with me. I advise you and Vash take Stormie somewhere safe."

"When are you leaving?"

"Next week. I have a place set up for us."

Vash was standing nearby, silent for the most part. "What of Naoshi?"

"We are choosing to run. You may fight if you like. After all, it's more your battle than mine." She smiled cattily, a little way of letting them know she was angry, and then walked away without even a goodbye.

"Sounds like we'll be on our own soon," said Vash quietly, leaning back against the wall.

"So sure about that, Vashu?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Meryl. When is she leaving?"

Vash shrugged his shoulders, immediately growing uncomfortable. "Why? Is Billy getting to you?"

"They all are. Vash, the woman has ulterior motives. She wants something more than just friendship or...something. Why is she staying around like this? Perhaps she wants to relive her youth - a young girl with an exciting life, Vash the Stampede on her arm. Pathetic." He rolled his eyes.

"She is not like that, Knives! If you remember, she dumped me, and she is married, AND she has a daughter living here!"

"Uh-huh." Knives was not satisfied. It didn't really matter though; the conversation was already over, dead in the water. The topic of Meryl was not one easily discussed. Besides, it was putting Vash in a bad mood and Vash in a bad mood was not pretty, so he decided to go back to Stormie and offer what little comfort he could.

She was asleep. He shut the door quietly, but even the soft clicking of the latch startled her awake. She looked at him, eyes almost terrified, like she didn't trust him anymore, and he realized just what was going on here, just how Grayfall felt. But that didn't sway his decision. He would wait for the right time to seek out Naoshi.

Looking at her in questioning, he spread out his arms as if to ask, 'well, what do you want me to do?' and waited.

"Tell me what you think of me now," she implored quietly, pushing herself up onto her forearms. "I mean, how do you feel when you look at me now?"

"I think...you're very strong," he said simply, helplessly. "Too strong to let this get to you. You are...Stormie, and I...I am just glad you're ok, talking to me." As crude as it sounded, coming from Knives, it was like the most heartfelt, sympathetic thing ever spoken.

She smiled at him, weakly, and her lower lip quivered dangerously, like she was about to burst into sobs once more. Her eyes closed, and she felt warm arms encircle her, hesitantly, holding her close and trying to make her feel safe.

But how could she tell him that she didn't understand why no one was willing to face Naoshi? That she'd never feel safe until the man who had done this to her was dead?