Disclaimer: The seventeenth disclaimer! My little ficcy is almost a grown-up!
Chapter Seventeen: …He Yearned For Her To Stay
As Rhianne trekked through the sand beneath the morning light of the suns, Knives was sat at the base of the dune on which he had made his fateful choice. He sat in the shadows, not letting the rays of morning sunlight envelop him; he didn't feel like sunlight. He wanted clouds to cover the sky and rain, and rain, and rain. But he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon; it never rained on Gunsmoke. In fact, it rained as often as Knives cried. But in this particular instance, the similarity ended.
He was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his tear-soaked palms. He shoved his face into his hands, trying to smear the tears that seeped through his eyelashes, grinding them into his skin and smearing them over his already damp cheeks. He ran the fingers of his right hand hurriedly, as if doing so would rid him of his problems. As his fingers felt the follicles, they grasped them and puled, so as to put tension on his scalp. He ground his teeth together as tears fell onto his lips and he held back a cry of rage. He licked the tears hastily away, ignoring the salty taste and how alien it seemed to his tongue. His hands clenched and unclenched as he ran his hands over his head, tufts of his hair fluffing out between them as he did so. He shook his head furiously, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that crowded his mind. He shook violently, both in anger and in fear of the emotions the plagued him and ate away at him mind and his beliefs like a cancer. His forehead leaned against his knees, and he buried his face between them, trying to hide the tears that fell from his eyes and the feelings he felt. This wasn't right, wasn't right, wasn't right… wasn't right.
His head flew back and he stared at the golden morning sky, his irises barely visible behind his crazed pupils. His lips played up in a grim smile, although he had not reason to do so. The look that donned his features was enough to send a man mad, because of the dementia it displayed. But it truth, it didn't show dementia, it showed a man being torn apart from the inside out.
He wanted her, hated her, missed her, despised her, adored her, felt like spitting at her name, lusted for her, wanted to tear her apart… the list went on. Knives squeezed his eyes shut against the fresh tears that welled up behind his eyes. What was wrong with him? He righted his head on his shoulders, and shook it, his hands still grasping his pale hair that shone in the shadows like a new sun.
His fingers released their grip on his hair, and traced themselves down his damp cheeks, feeling the wet skin beneath them. They fell to his throat, and out to the armor that adorned his shoulders. The nails of his bare hands scraped along against it, creating a screeching sound that pained his ears. Yet it did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Tears slid down his flushed cheeks, and he wondered why he was cursed with emotions such as these.
Knives could never recall crying before. It was so ironic, he mused, that he would be crying over something so trivial as a woman, when he had delighted in watching the eyes of others well up in the same fashion. He had seen many people cry, oh yes, he had adored to watch the eyes of the vermin begin to swim behind the tears that leaked from them as he slaughtered their loved ones before their very eyes. He had seen a terrible sadness that, at the time, had brought a maniacal smile to his lips. It had both enraged him and made him ecstatic when he saw them fall over themselves to get to the mutilated carcasses of whomever he had just killed, and drop to their knees and lay their heads on the corpse's blood-stained chest and weep. They clutched at the clothing; their white knuckles turned crimson by the blood, staining the fabric even more with their shining tears. They always nuzzled their head against them, sobbing for them not to die, to come back to them, not to leave them alone; grinding the blood into their hair and smearing it over their faces and clothes in the process, not caring about how they looked. Because the most important person in the world to them was gone. It was at this point that Knives had usually gotten tired of their little display, and had killed the vermin.
It seemed like so long ago that he was killing freely, no one to hinder him from his pursuit of the Eden that he deserved. Then his brother had come along and put a stopper in his plans. Knives wasn't going to stand around and wait for his little pets to die, so he had been creating a little hassle in a town near to his ship. And if he had only not gone out to kill a few days ago, he would have been able to avoid this whole mess.
Are you sure that's what you want? If you could go back and do it all over again, knowing what would happen, you wouldn't have gone out there and rescued her? That can't be true… Vash's made its comeback in his mind.
"No I wouldn't- I mean, yes, I mean… bah!" Knives threw his head into his hands and shook it furiously " I would have stayed rooted in my ship and would have let that bitch die out there in the sand." He stated, more to himself that to the voice in his head.
Would you really? Vash's voice sounded dubious as it prodded at his thoughts.
"Yes, she is the spider to my butterfly, if I am to succeed in my plans to exterminate the vermin, then she must be gotten rid of." He stated sourly, crossing his arms like a small child would when being told 'no'.
Are you sure? His twins' mental voice shot back questioningly "of course" the plant shot back quickly, clasping his hands to try and stop their incessant trembling. He was shaking, and didn't know why. What was wrong with him? The scorching desert temperatures were rising as steadily as the suns, and he had no reason to be cold, yet he was still shaking.
"What's wrong with me…?" he muttered harshly, clenching his eyes shut from the flow of tears that seemed never-ending. He hated to ask himself that question, for he already knew the answer, deep down in his blackened heart. But it couldn't be true; it simply couldn't
(yes it can)
be true. He wouldn't…couldn't fall for her.
It's too late Knives, the damage has been done… Vash pointed out, his usual meek self acting very strongly about this she's finally done what no person, human or plant-not even I- have been able to do. She's wormed her way into your heart and you're not able to accept it. I don't under stand why, love is a beautiful thing. It fills your very soul with light and-
"The stupidity of the Human race has been bashed into you, hasn't it Vash?" Knives sneered, sniffling loudly and swatting at the salty tears racing down the apples of his cheeks.
What do you mean by that? Vash responded, sounding both defiant and hurt at the same time. Knives made an attempt to snort, but it came out at a wrenching sob instead and the sand swam before his eyes. He growled angrily and wiped his eyes furiously, smearing the tears over his hands.
"What I mean by that is this: love is an imaginary emotion made to give the vermin so that they can separate themselves from the animals. It is a false idea that was simply created as an excuse to mate and meddle in the affairs of others. Those who believe in love are fools.
(Just like me?)
just like you, brother. You are just as stupid as they are for believing their ridiculous ideas of 'love and peace' they do not exist. Peace is not possible as long as the vermin remain alive, and love is not possible in either case. Love is a manipulative tool that people use to get what they want."
She didn't manipulate you. "Knives snorted and swatted at his watery eyes "Oh yes she did, that meddling bitch use those damned words on me, and look at my state. I'm shaking, frantic, unable to control my own movements, and I'm crying!! I am Millions Knives and I DO NOT CRY!!! She is nothing more than a nuisance and I'm glad I got rid of her! Do you hear me, you stupid piece of filth of a brother? I DO NOT CARE!!!"
I doesn't seem that way right now brother… Vash stated icily before fading back into the depths of Knives' consciousness, leaving the distraught plant to himself.
"Rhianne…" the whispered words left his lips before he was even aware of it. They were paradise, heaven to his lips. Just saying them made him feel happier. He shook his head vigorously, this wasn't the way to be thinking. It was wrong, wrong, wrong… He was supposed to be focusing on the destruction of the human race, not pouring over some silly girl.
"Oh Knives…" the words were daggers to his thoughts, stopping his train of thought as though they had pulled an unseen plug to his mind, shutting it down for the few seconds that the voice echoed around his hollow mind. The words were spoken as a sigh, showing the hurt and pain that it was meant to display. A pang hit Knives' heart as they were spoken, but the next words chilled him as if the desert sand was snow, because as much as he denied it, he echoed those same sentiments. The words dented his confidence in his theories and ripped open the gaping mental hole inside of him: "I miss you so much…" He knew instantly who it was, even before the final words were uttered.
"Rhianne?" Knives surprised himself by saying the words almost as much as to hear the words that had caused him to speak the girl's name.
He listened for what seemed like an eternity, waiting and-although he wouldn't have admitted it to himself- secretly hoping more words would follow. But his hopes, no matter how small and secret, were dashed when no words came to comfort him. He hung his head, barely aware of the action and the continual tears that still continued to fall from his icy eyes onto the thirsty sand.
He sobbed loudly and fell backwards onto the sand, finally giving into the sadness that now wrapped itself around him, a deep dark where he couldn't escape himself, or the feelings he had tried so hard to ignore. He squeezed his eyes tightly, only to see her smiling face, as if painted to the insides of his tear-soaked lids. She blinked, her pearly teeth shining with the wetness of the tears that caused her image to swim before him. Without realizing it, Knives fell into a deep sleep, her image never leaving him as he did. Yet the darkness of sleep was fleeting, and it seemed only a moment passed between the blackness of sleep and the dream that followed; and it was a strange dream indeed…
He stood beneath a sapphire sky, nearly hidden by the tall trees that climbed up into the sky, their branches reaching up towards two suns that marked early noon. The grass beneath him was soft and velvety, the bark of the trees a deep chocolate, their leave a glinting emerald, dripping shimmering droplets of water to the moss that lined their roots, hinting at a rain just past. The trees formed a straight line towards a large clearing that boasted a large lake laced by white sand, the blue of the water resplendent in the afternoon sunshine. His gaze locked on the lake, Knives became aware of the steady movement of his feet in that direction. A flock of brightly colored birds flew by, startling him. He had seen very few birds, even in his expansive lifetime, and the vibrant color of the birds both startled him and amazed him. They moved swiftly, so that they were merely blue and red blurs before Knives' eyes as he made his way to the lake. As he approached the sparkling water, he became aware of a dark spot beneath the calm surface. For a reason he couldn't comprehend, seeing the things beneath the water calmed him immensely, and he felt relaxed as the figure became much more identifiable beneath the glassy surface. It was a person, there was no doubt about that. Long hair wafted around its head as it made it's way up the slope beneath the water. A moment later, Knives realized that he was able to identify the person beneath the waves, for it was the brilliant aqua glow of their eyes that cast away any doubt he had originally had about who the person was: Rhianne.
The top of her head emerged from the water, causing ripples to mar its glassy surface. Knives tried to back away, but found that his feet were rooted to the spot, and he couldn't turn and run for the sanctuary the trees beckoned from behind him. Rhianne had emerged fully from the water, yet no drop of it was to be found as proof of that. To anyone having not witnessed her entrance into Knives' strange dream, she would have appeared to have been basking beneath the sun all afternoon and not to have touched the water at all.
"Hello Knives." She smiled, albeit a bit sadly. He looked into her eyes and watched the suns in them fill them with a soft golden glow. She wore a long sleeveless opalescent dress that fell to her ankles, nearly transparent in the bright sunlight. No shoes adorned her feet, and she wriggled her toes in the sand as she watched him nervously.
"Where am I?" Knives demanded, doing his best to sound angry but coming out sounding surprisingly miffed. She smiled a little and took his hand, refusing to yield as he tried to pull it away.
"This" she started, waving her free hand around "is a reflection of what could be." Knives' blonde eyebrows climbed up his forehead in a questioning gesture "what do you mean 'what could be'?" Rhianne's smiled wavered as she answered.
"This place is a reflection of your heart" her smile wavered slightly "or at least what it could be like." She let Knives hand slip from hers and as she did so, the landscape changed around them.
The trees blackened, withered, and died, the grass shriveled and became a sickly gray, the crystal blue water of the lake turned to a dark, dirty brown, and the clear sky clouded over with ominous black thunder clouds. Knives glanced around nervously; he didn't like this dream much.
He turned back to Rhianne, to find that she had changed as well. Her hair, which had been falling softly on her shoulders before, was not knotted and stringy, her face was marred with scratches and sported a large red mark from where he had slapped her the day before. Her dress hung loosely about her, shredded and in tatters, the shiny opalescence of it worn out with what looked like decades of use, her arms bore multiple scratches and her shoulder was had swelled again. Her bare feet were bloody and riddled with little thorns and slivers, and the thing that struck the male plant the most was the light in her eyes was gone. Her eyes looked vacant, like her physical form was there with him, but her glassy eyes looked distant and eerie.
"This is the reflection of your heart in its current state, a decaying, blackened thing that kills everything it comes into contact with. What you saw before was the happiness that you could feel if you stopped lying to yourself, the love that could change your heart, your true Eden. Everyone can find their Eden, Knives, because to love and be loved in return is Eden." With that said, the little light left in her eyes faded and she fell forward onto her knees on the dirt. Knives, hardly aware of his actions, caught her before she could fall any further.
"I still love you Knives, I want you to know that. I'm sorry you don't feel the same way, but if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad" she paused, her eyed drooping heavily "but if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?" Then she went limp in his arms.
The now familiar sting of tears came to Knives' eyes as he clutched her limp form to his chest. "No…no...no…" he sobbed, uncaring of the emotions overtaking him "what the hell is happening to me?" he cried, pulling her closer to him.
"Oh the irony of your situation." An all-too-familiar voice stated from behind him.
Knives whirled around, Rhianne's limp form still clutched tightly to his chest, and saw the one person he had hoped and prayed to never see again.
For behind him, her raven hair swirling in the wind, her brown eyes sparkling, was Rem Saverem.
