The bulb erupted.
Meryl screamed as glass shards the size of her arm peppered Knives' body.
He half turned, deflecting some of it, but no matter how he tried to shield himself, it did nothing to block the creature that followed.
A blur of flesh and feathers ejected from the opening with all the terrifying rawness of a crazed harpy. Still connected to the core by long, pulsating tentacles, the angel pounced on him. A warbled cry escaped his lips as clawed fingers clamped around his neck in a strangle-hold. He tore at her forearms to pry her off, writhed and bucked to dislodge her, but her ferocity was too overwhelming.
White hair streaked with black sparked with electricity as she trembled over him in her rage. Eyes as large as oil spills, and twice as black bore down on him with a fury that stole Meryl's courage. Lips peeled back over sharp, nasty teeth that poked out horizontally from her cheeks, as well as above, and below…
She was death, incarnate.
"Kn-Kn…" Meryl stepped forward and doubled over with her cry. "Knives!"
He grunted something incoherent, his face reddening to scarlet. Gasping sounds emanated from his being as his windpipe was being crushed. His angel arm – the one Vash had told her about – started to transform.
Locked in the surrealism of a nightmare, Meryl froze. These beings…they were so far from human… She was just now getting what Knives was trying to prove all along. Angels were a more powerful species. Advanced. Untamable…
He swung at his sister with his elongated arm, knocking her shoulder. She screeched, and with a guttural snarl, she rebounded by kneeing him in the groin. His body convulsed, and arched, eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Stop it…" Meryl uttered, her own words sounding pathetic. Weak. One trembling leg marched forward, not knowing what she would do once she got there, but knowing that Knives' death wasn't the answer. "STOP…!"
The long, pinkish, blue-veined tentacles that attached the angel to the plant's core were stretching beyond their capacity. As she lunged again, one of them snapped, breaking off in a bloody spray at the base of one of many bulbous appendages along her naked back. The plant angel flinched only for a moment, before leaning forward to try and claw out Knives' eyes.
"Don't kill him!" Meryl shouted, her leaden legs gaining more momentum. As she neared, she saw a wet sheen on the gaunt porcelain cheeks of the angel. Tears. The realization sobered Meryl up enough to hear what the being was communicating in their telepathic tongue…
Murderer!
She felt it. Like she had with Knives. Emotion bleeding off the plant angel as loud as thunder, and just as invisible. Again, the sentiment. The accusation.
MURDERER!!
Knives' weak voice was nothing more than a scratch. A gurgle. "No..."
She grimaced and scratched his face. And Meryl was stopped dead in her tracts as she was assaulted – not with the naked sentiment – but with visuals. Memories from the angel's perspective. Like some demented slide show in the forefront of her mind.
It was Little Jersey. This town. Busy with people. Laughter. Camaraderie. There was a sense of protective pride as she looked at them. Looked over them. From within the glass. Her charge. Her humans.
Then, another moment, of a white-haired, stern-faced Knives on a different day, in a different outfit. Pristine, his crystalline eyes were intense. Frowning up at her. Frustrated. Demanding that she leave this place. He had the means, and he had the intent.
But she'd never leave. Her humans would die without her. How could this brother even suggest…?
And then…
The humans that worked around her plant – their faces, suddenly blank. Simultaneously, they all exited. All life walked out of the town, without explanation or apology. She felt their spirits depart miles away, as the desert sucked their weak bodies dry.
The slideshow abruptly stopped. Meryl rocked back on her heels, her perspective completely enlightened now, as she gaped at Knives' attacker. So that's it… That's why he never freed any of them before… The realization nearly winded her with its irony. It has nothing to do with Gunsmoke not being ready for the plant angels, like he said. It's that the plant angels won't leave the humans! She clapped a hand to her mouth. They've endeared themselves to humanity, just like Vash…
Another tentacle snapped, and the angel screamed, arching back. With his neck finally free, Knives twisted around, gasping for breath. He looked up and saw Meryl. "Idiot," he panted. "HELP!"
"No wonder she's so angry!" Meryl snapped. "This town was like her child!! She considered herself their guardian! And she thinks you slew them just to give her incentive to leave--!" she stopped, as the plant angel doubled over, slugging Knives' spine with both fists.
Between spasms, and spitting blood, Knives shouted – as though Meryl needed any further encouragement. "She's DYING!"
I'll help you, Knives, she thought, an idea formulating. But don't you complain about the results! Having faith that the plant angel wouldn't harm her, Meryl ran, crossing the distance between them. Her feet crunched on the broken glass as she reached them, and she grabbed the angel. Just like that. By both shoulders and shook her hard.
"You're wrong about him!" she shouted, her throat constricting with empathy. Oh, Knives had better be on his best behavior after covering for his sins like this. "Listen to me. This slaughter was the result of a sick human being, who targeted this town at random!" Meryl had to believe it was true, or else she couldn't convince the angel. "Let him help you. Please."
The angel paused, and sat back, her entire body oscillating. The disengaged fat-bodied appendages on her shoulder blades were pulsating wetly, trying to pump blood through a venue that was no longer there. She looked at Meryl, distrust in her eyes. Had the moment been any less urgent, Meryl thought she might have passed out from the shock of being so close to such an extraordinary life form.
"What's more – he needs your help. Saving both species," Meryl said. And in the midst of all his trauma, Knives gathered enough energy and nerve, to stare warning at her, his mouth part open. She could almost hear his words.
Don't you dare!
She ignored him, having the angel's complete attention now. This was her chance. And she took it. "He needs your help to fortify this planet with life. Vegetation. So that humanity can live on its own, and the plant angels can go free…"
Knives choked, but then he saw his sister's entire demeanor change. Large, lashless, onyx orbs lost their berserker edge. Her gaze fixed on Meryl, then they turned to her brother. Back to Meryl. Back to him. After a tense moment, Knives banged his head on the floor, swearing softly.
It was enough. The fight left the angel's body, and with it, her strength. Mouth went slack, face paled to chalk-white, and eyes rolled up into the back of her head. Meryl caught her as she fell into jerky convulsions.
"Knives!" she screamed, trying to hold onto her. "Help!"
Still spitting blood, Knives shimmied around on the floor, spared one brief second to glare murderously at Meryl, and then lifted himself up until his partially transformed angel arm was able to reach the remaining stretched tentacles that attached his sister to the plant core. "Hold her tight," he said roughly.
Meryl did as told, bracketing the bleeding spasmodic female against her chest, all her prior intimidation shifting to worry. It'll be okay, she urged silently. Hang in there…
Meryl tried to keep the freak out factor at a minimum as Knives proceeded to "unattach" his sister from her prison. His angel arm moved, and molded, and grew…until it seemed to completely fuse with the fleshy appendages on his sister's back. The process sounded like stretching rubber, and it seemed to drain them both considerably. Mid-convulsion, his sister whimpered. He grimaced, teeth clenched, as one by one the living cords were severed from her body.
There's so much blood… Meryl thought, noticing that she as well was now drenched in the life source. How could any living thing survive such loss? She rested her lips against the angel's sweaty crown, not knowing if she should panic, or be relieved as the convulsions slowed.
The last umbilical cord fell to the ground with a sick, rubbery crunch, and Meryl caught pieces of words as Knives inquired of his sister…
Have to…remove…conductors…
And her half-conscious response. A weary but positive acknowledgement. She gave him permission to do whatever it was. Knives bowed his head, breathing heavily. He shifted in obvious strain to try and position himself better, and then he looked up at Meryl, without saying word.
She squirmed, her hold on the plant lessening. "Are you…okay? Do you need me to… I mean… Is there anything—"
"Your involvement here…is becoming tedious…"
She blinked. "Tedious? My involvement here saved both your lives."
He shook his head, looking back at the task at hand. "Just…be still."
Ingrate… she sighed in exasperation, her attention going back to the wounded female in her arms.
.
.
It was getting dark.
The desert air was quickly going from warm to chilly as it tugged at Meryl's hair with a vengeance. She shivered and looked up to the slouched figure in the driver's seat of the hovercraft. He was hanging onto his consciousness by a thread.
The last part had taken Knives the better part of an hour doing what Meryl could only describe as absorbing the fat-bodied appendages off his sister's back and into his being. It had left them both half alive. But the angel had survived.
Meryl looked painstakingly at the passed out female laying down across her lap. She feathered the black and white bangs from her knotted brow, marveling at how human she appeared now. Almost childlike. The skin of her back had been left red, puckered, swollen…but the wounds had been sealed. A chill ran down the angel's spine, and Meryl patted her for comfort. She had shed her own cloak, her shirt and even her long black leggings to help cover and protect the salvaged being. She was more than a little irritated with Knives for neglecting to bring any attire for the naked creature.
So wearing nothing but a sleeveless blood-soaked, short-skirted dress, Meryl bore the brunt of the wind as she tried her best to shield her cargo from it. She dreaded the ride back, but not half as much as she dreaded facing Knives' fury when his sister was properly tended to…
.
.
"Are you sure that she needs this more than you do?" Meryl asked, as she heaved the angel's legs up onto the platform at the oasis. Sure, the girl was passed out, but at least her breathing was regular. Knives on the other hand exhaled and inhaled in shallow, irregular pants, his whole body riddled with the shakes. In some remnant of his former self, he scoffed at her as he finished aligning the angel's torso to be healed under the bulb.
"She is far worse off than I," he said, his expression softening as he brushed his fingers against his sister's cheek, and then leaning down to press his lips against her brow. Then he pulled back enough to stare at her closed face in an open look of exasperated concern. Like a parent worrying over a wayward child.
After all that.
How can he be so tender with her after she nearly killed him? It blew Meryl's mind. Contradicted everything she thought he was. For him to have the capacity to forgive on that scale... To care about anything besides killing off humanity was almost something she couldn't compute…
"Everything I do," he said hoarsely, straightening his spine, and tapping on the bulb to summon his other sister, "has been for them." He turned and locked stares with Meryl. "Everything."
Before she could respond, he jerked his chin at the exit.
"Get out."
.
.
The jerk. Dismissing me, like that…
Discouraged hands shoved what little belongings she had into a dusty bag.
After everything I've done. Of my own FREE will…
Zip. Snap. Luggage over shoulder with a hearty 'hmph!'.
Well, I hope his sisters give him hell. Hope they strong-arm his happy ass into sprouting trees and daisies all over Gunsmoke. For the very people he hates—
"They're going to, thanks to you."
Rude. Arrogant. Condescending.
She spun around, not much inclined to be civil. She glared at him angrily, and he glared back at her, leaning heavily against a wall. Snorting, Meryl stormed past him with her nose in the air. Knives' nerves were obviously raw, and if she'd learned anything about him these past couple days, it was that he had a tough time disciplining his temperment when he was this beat down. She heard him inevitably shuffle after her, his words coming out in an angry lecture.
"One just told the other about your false ideals, so now I have two sisters harping on promises I never made, and have no intent to honor," he growled, his filter clearly not in place. "You have no idea how complicated you've made my situation. If they weren't so cognizant of your life, I would kill you for daring to defy me."
Funny how she only heard the last part. "You'd kill me? Well, isn't that nice. Tell me - is that your answer to everything?"
She heard him swear, and then pause. "Where do you think you're going?"
She turned her head enough to snap at him. "What do you mean, 'where are you going'? You're the one who told me to GET OUT!"
His face scrunched. "What?"
"Hmph." She marched on without turning around, more agitated than she'd ever been in all her life. If he so much as—
"I meant the chamber," he clarified rudely. "Not the ship, you half-wit."
Half wit!? As she tensed, his large hand curled around her bicep from behind. Big mistake. Not only was she beyond angry, but he'd just foolishly informed her that his sisters were watching out for her well being. So she clocked him. Turned right around, and punched him in the eye.
"Agh!" He swore, and staggered back, a hand up to nurse the forming bruise. He gaped shock at her, then shook himself. His lip twitched up in a snarl, and he lunged. Meryl yelped as he tackled her to the ground.
Even in this bruised and bloodied state, he was still unnaturally strong. Hands gripped her wrists and pinned them back as he flattened the rest of her with his body. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks in his ire, making those ice cold irises twice as intense.
Meryl's blood was roaring in her ears. She was afraid of him, furious at him, and something else she couldn't identify – all at once. Besides, he was damn heavy. "Get off me!"
The muscles in his jaw jumped, and his breath was hot. "You're staying here. You're keeping silent, and you're going to stop conspiring against me—!"
"Then you stop conspiring against humans!! You're not God, Knives! You can't punish millions of innocents for the evils of a few!" Her jewelry jangled with each vehement word. A growl rumbled in his throat, and worked its way up, but just as he opened his mouth, her platinum necklace reflected a ray of light in his eyes, making him glance down at her throat.
He did a double take. Frowned. Everything stopped as he leaned down to stare at what she assumed – what she hoped was her necklace - until she felt his invasive breath along her collarbone. Meryl's alarm gave way to wonderment, as he seemed to completely forget about the conflict at hand. And to have him this close, without the distraction of his palpable animosity for her… It was confusing. Especially since her body was having a number of different, unauthorized reactions to being pinned down by him like this…
She felt herself blushing.
"Your necklace," he said, without lifting his eyes.
She swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden observation that his mouth was real pretty when he wasn't using it to say mean things. "My parents had it made for me…"
"Your…parents?" He looked up, staring in an intense mix of intrigued confusion. Hadn't he been bullying her just a second ago? And did he honestly intend to have a conversation while he was still on top of her like this??
Meryl blew her bangs from her eyes, and lifted her brow. "Umm…" She hadn't had to explain this to someone in a long time. Most people had trinkets, or cameos on their chains, or perhaps their name spelled out in gold. But not Meryl. No. She had to have a cyberpod number hanging on her neck.
But she wouldn't have it any other way. It was the only thing that connected her to her lost past. "My cyberpod was only discovered 16 years ago." His fingers flinched around her wrists, and his eyes widened. Instantly self-conscious, she started to ramble.
"It was jarred loose when the ship crashed, and had fallen into some compartment that was only excavated recently. And…well, being frozen for over one hundred years—" she wasn't about to go into how it stunted her growth, because she was still bitter about that part, "—it erased my memory. Erased everything. The people who adopted me had to teach me how to speak, how to walk… And I was 8 years old, mind you. They never found my identity. The computer files had been damaged in the crash. So all I have of my true past is my pod number. B435,296. Sentimental value, you know..."
"B435,29…6." His lips quivered over the digits, without even looking at them, completely memorized. Unblinking, crystalline orbs bounced from her hair to her eyes, to her mouth. Back to her eyes. As though seeing her for the first time.
No. Meryl thought, noticing flashes of recognition cross his features. Not the first time. The second time. As though he's just realizing that…that…
She quickly forgot the awkwardness of their proximity, or that his grip on her wrists had gone slack. "What! What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" she shouted, lifting her face to get in his. "Were you on my ship, Knives?? Do you know who I am!? TELL ME!!"
He blinked. Opened his mouth to respond, but a choked gasp from the entryway distracted them both. Knives looked up and tensed as the metallic click of a cocking gun resonated. Eyes widening in unmistakable panic, he swore and flipped off her just as a shot was fired. With her stomach in her throat, Meryl rolled over, lifted her head... And felt her heart leap the same time her jaw dropped.
Vash!!