They didn't even begin the preparations for the next raid until a full 45 days later, after a twin city to Eden had been partially completed, and living arrangements arranged. It had been a whirlwind process, executed with haste and anxiety. Lela had been confiscated to an old storage area of the ship for now, both to give her time to cope with what she'd done, and to protect her from Peppper's collage of friends.
And Knives…he was there in body, and deed, but his soul still seemed barred down under a tremendous weight. He was always distant and withdrawn…the only person he ever talked to anymore was Vash. And he avoided Meryl like the plague. 'Awkward' didn't even come close to describing the mood between them, now.
If it weren't for the kiss – that wild, abrupt intimacy - she might have been able to read him better. But he had barricaded his thoughts from her, and those little irrational doubts kept nagging at the edges of her mind like sharp-beaked, pecking birds. Does he hate me now? Is he repulsed by me? Will we ever be friends again?
She hadn't told anyone. Not even Vash. "I just wish I knew what he was thinking, ya know?" she said to Vash as she flipped and folded selected robes for their raid. "He can't stand being around me."
Vash stuck his bottom lip out and blew the bangs out of his eyes, pausing long enough from studying the blueprint to share in her concern. "I think it's more like he can't stand himself."
"Is that what he told you?"
He grimaced. "Not in words, no. But coming to his senses and finding inner peace are two separate things. He may no longer be under the spell of such delusional theories, but that doesn't mean he can cope with everything he's done."
"Yeah…" Meryl sighed, still unsure about her place in all this. Still aching for her old comrade back. And still wondering if she hadn't contributed to his current depression by crossing the line. "I suppose I should at least be grateful that he's not crusading around, preaching destruction to humanity, right?"
"I know that's all I could ask for," Vash said. "He may be miserable, but he's no longer a threat to others, or to himself. I suppose the misery will just have to run its course."
"Do you think it will?" she asked hopefully. "Run its course, I mean?"
He paused to study her through narrowed eyes. "This isn't like you, Meryl," Vash said ruefully, coming over to place his hands on her shoulders. "I'm usually the one worrying to you about Knives."
That caught her off guard. She began to stammer, "Well, I…it's just that… He's ignoring me, and he's never done that before, and…" she felt the blush hit her cheeks. With as much as she wished she could retract the kiss, she couldn't stop herself from reliving it over and over. Even now, the feel of his mouth still haunted her lips. "Anyways," she shoved the last robes in the bag without folding them, and zipped it up, "I, uh…gotta go over the next raid with him before we leave, so—"
"You love him, don't you?"
Meryl choked. "Wh-what!?" she asked. "No. Geez! I just…" Is that what's going on? "It's just that we've worked so closely and all," Is that why I can't stop thinking about him? Why I get butterflies in my stomach every time we're in the same room? "And…and…ohwillyoustopgrinning!"
The corners of his lips kept lifting up, and up, and then he bent down and chased the air from her lungs with a crushing hug, lifting her off the floor. Her feet dangled, kicking and squirming.
"Honestly, Vash!" she coughed for air, her face smashed in his overcoat. "You're such an adolescent, sometimes."
"Go on. Admit it!"
"This is ridiculous," gasp, sputter, "Can't I worry about Knives without you getting all starry-eyed?"
His voice dropped to an almost whisper. "You can't hide it from me, Meryl. I've lived too long. I know the signs better than anyone."
She scoffed at the irony of that statement, deciding to let it go. Only when you're looking for it, boy. The fight in her petered out, and she went limp in Vash's arms, too confused, distressed and overwhelmed to keep it up any longer. "You idiot. What good would it do me to say it when I've already scared him off forever?"
He set her down, and his eyes frowned. "What do you mean?"
Meryl looked down at her feet, and clenched her hands in fists. Might as well fess up. "I kissed him, Vash."
Vash's eyes bulged. "You…" he shook himself, "you kissed him? Like on the lips?"
"Yes! On the lips, you dope!" she snapped up. "And stop staring at me like it's so shocking, alright! I'm insecure about it enough as it is!!"
His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step back, visibly trying to discipline the surprise from his expression. And failing miserably. "What happened?"
She began to pace. "It was when he came to. I was already beside myself with relief that he was awake. I hugged him, and then when he told me about my identity – I mentioned that, didn't I? – that he finally confessed that he knew my profile from back on the SEEDs ship?"
He shook his head slowly, totally stupefied. "No…"
"Well, he did. Told me my birth name. My birth parents' names, occupations… And I was so overcome with emotion, that…" she dropped her head in her hands. "Heaven help me, Vash. I don't know what came over me."
Vash blew his breath out in a long whistle. He made a nervous laugh, and ran his hands through his hair. "So…how did he react?"
She laughed, not because it was funny, but because if she didn't, she might start crying again. "He froze, like a cornered puppy, and has avoided me ever since."
She was staring at her hands, too embarrassed to look up. After a long pause, Vash asked quietly, "Have you tried talking to him about what happened?"
"What's there to talk about? He's repulsed by me. I scared him off."
"He's not repulsed by you. Something is going on, but it's not that. You need to talk to him."
"But Vash…"
"I've been watching you two closely over the past couple years. I know what you mean to him, whether he wants to admit it or not. Don't let him shut you out, Meryl. Please. He still needs you."
.
.
She never used to knock, but Meryl couldn't bring herself to barge on into Knives' control room like she used to. She held her hand up, hesitated, and then rapped on the metal door with her knuckles. It was more of a warning, than a request for permission. She waited the customary few seconds and palmed the mechanism that swooshed the door open.
Her heartbeat quickened when she saw him, leaning over a map, with a pen in one hand, and a mug in the other. Synthetic pants made to look like leather hung off his hips, with a matching similar-hued jacket. White shirt underneath. Hair spiked, face shaven. It was distracting. Everything about him was distracting, lately. The walls could come crumbling down around them, and Meryl imagined she'd have a tough time noticing, so pendant was she on his every move. Or lack thereof. He didn't turn to look at her when she entered, but his shoulders visibly hunched.
Meryl almost lost her nerve. But they had to discuss the raid. There was no way out of it. "Wanna show me the layout?"
Her words hung in the silence like the sound of shattered glass. He glanced at the passageway to his right out of reflex, as though gauging the possibilities of escape. Meryl went from nervous to bristling. Oh, man-up, for crying out loud. You think I'm going to rape you?
A muscle in his face jumped, and he finally jerked his chin for her to approach. She walked over, and looked studiously at the map.
He tapped at a blue dot. "The City of Manti only has one angel, and its population has dwindled. Only 200 residents. We will go to build the oasis with Vash within this range, here. And when it's done, we'll retrieve the plant angel."
Meryl just about fell over. So he'd moved beyond the 'his job/my job' nonsense, eh? My, how you've changed.
He tapped at a keyboard, and a new map blipped up on the panel of the city streets. "The city is 1200 kilometers away. The generator is at the east end, here. We'll enter there," he said, pointing at a wide-street entrance. "All we need is Bejya. We'll leave in a couple hours."
He stopped talking, and she shifted uncomfortably. "That's it?"
Nod.
"Since it's such a simple trip, why don't we pick up some of the deserted plant angels? There's 11 still alive in that old SEEDs ship—" She saw him scrunch his eyes shut, and she rattled on, "not 70 kilometers from Manti."
"I'll work on that, and get back to you." Short. Clipped. He was dismissing her.
She shuffled her feet. "We used to do this together," she said.
"It doesn't take two."
Meryl felt her eyes sting, and her throat constrict. Since she wasn't leaving, Knives swiveled in his chair, and got up to walk out.
"Knives, wait," she cried, hand held out. He kept on walking, and she stomped her foot on the floor. "WAIT!"
.
.
He stopped, two feet from the door with his back to her, every fiber of his being protesting his strict command to walk away. The control she had over him was still there. It didn't matter how many days or distance he put between them. Her presence still scattered his concentration like a hurricane, still made him feel...
He dug his nails into his palm, his voice taut. "What do you want, Meryl?"
Her voice cracked. "Isn't it obvious? I want you to stop avoiding me!"
His heart skipped a beat, and he felt the sting of that indescribable sensation prickle all over his body as she crossed the distance between them and placed herself firmly between him and his escape route. Her eyes had watered, and her teeth clenched. To see her so upset…
He wasn't prepared for it.
"What's going on, Knives? You won't even look at me anymore!" her voice hitched as the sobs came. "You ignore me, you won't talk to me unless you absolutely have to… It's making me crazy! We were friends, weren't we?" She covered her face with her hands, and then ran them up over her hair in an anguished gesture as water spilled from her reddening eyes. "It's because I kissed you, isn't it? Forgive me, please! I won't do it again. I promise!"
He cracked. All his carefully placed mental barricades came crashing down; his desperately schooled expression of indifference, melted away. Her face was suddenly in his hands, as he mouthed a slow 'shhhh', running shakey thumbs along her trembling lips in a clumsy caress. "Don't say that. Don't promise me that…"
She jolted as she felt it. The vortex of anguish. The self-loathing. And the strong, overwhelming…joyous ache she gave him. Losing it, Knives sank slowly to his knees, his disobedient hands clinging to her in one last desperate touch, sliding down the warm curves of her body until he forced them flat on the hard, cold floor.
"I am a killer!" he choked in a hoarse whisper. "Don't you get it, Meryl!? Your own birth parents were slain by these hands, and against all accountability, I'm supposed to be here..." He buried his head in his arms, and recoiled from the one person who could undermine what little control he had left over his own guilted fate. "I'll live this life, but I can't let myself enjoy it!"
.
.
With as bad as she wanted to kiss it all away, right then, Meryl wasn't stupid. She knew that no amount of physical intimacy would make him hate himself any less when it was done. His wounds were of the soul; the psychological bandaids he needed, of a different nature.
So with tremendous difficulty, she straightened her spine, swallowed the lump in her throat, and with a simple and heartfelt, 'I understand now,' she then gave strict orders to get his shit together so they could leave now instead of later. As business-like and proactive as she'd ever been. He needed commands. He needed regiment. A schedule. Black and white actions with black and white results.
The gray would come in small doses. And with much sneakiness. And then perhaps when he felt better about who he was, they could continue that which was abandoned here, today.
.
.
The crack in that wall really needs fixing, doesn't it? Look closely. You can see a bug nest webbed inside. Yes. Count them. There must be 40 there!
Meryl continued to push her will onto the smattering of people who were in the street. Two old men. A woman with her child. The energy plant only had two folks running it. The job was a no-brainer. She saw Knives with his left arm hooked around Bejya's waist, supporting her, while the liberated angel was slung over his right shoulder, walking out of the building. The small jeep they'd used to get here was just yards away. He made eye contact with her.
Let's go.
She nodded, and set off after them, walking backwards towards their vehicle. Bejya ambled in exhaustedly in the back seat, and Knives slumped their other sister over her lap, tossing a thick blanket over them both. Meryl made it to the passenger side, and knelt high in the seat with her arms on the headrest, while her mind's eye kept itself trained on the residents.
Knives swung open the door to his side, got in, grabbed the ignition…and stopped. Several seconds passed, and he didn't move. Meryl glanced at him, noticing the serious, alarmed expression written in his features.
"What is it?" she asked.
He pursed his lips, without looking at her. "Stay here," he ordered, and without further explanation, he leapt from the jeep and broke off at a brisk jog down a nearby alley.
.
.
Fear… An impression so potent, he could nearly taste it in the air. Before his epiphany, he dismissed vibes of anxiety he got when they were in human cities, just like he dismissed all human life. Meryl wouldn't have caught it. Not engaged with distracting the locals like she was. He'd had a brief moment of indecision, but his resurrected conscience was too strong. Knives came to a fork, and bolted left. He slowed. It was near.
There was rustling behind a nearby trashcan, and the wave of terror skyrocketed, hitting him in the face like a sandstorm. He took a step back, shook himself, and hesitantly approached.
There was some scuffling, followed by a whimper. He edged around the trashcan, and saw a young girl hovering there. By the flat facial profile, and depressed nasal bridge, along with the puffy slant to the eyes and irregular-shaped ears, he quickly assessed that she'd been born with brain damage. She squealed when she saw him, and then looked away as though eye contact was the only way he could see her. She started to rock back and forth, uttering incoherencies.
Knives was at a loss. Now what? She was terrified of something, and had obviously been hiding. "Where are your parents?"
Tear smudges marred her Moreno cheeks, and she glanced back at him in fearful suspicion. She couldn't have been more than 10. She said nothing, but his words triggered a memory, which in turn gave his mental probes a visual…of a funeral. A single coffin. Dead, huh?
She started to cry, and that's when he noticed a bruise under her left ear, and the finger marks on her arms. Someone had hurt her.
"Do you have a home?" Knives asked.
In between sniffles, he thought he saw her nod. The despair and solitude that emanated from her small childlike frame was tremendous. A mental image drew his attention again, of a large, pot-bellied, bearded man… And the incident that made her run away.
Knives nearly spat in disgust. Her terror had a name.
Uncle.
Knives felt an inexplicable anger well up inside of him, and just as he was deciding what to do, a slurred, drunken voice cried out.
"Kylie! Ya lil wretch! Wh—" belch, "where are ya!?"
The girl pawed at the ground as though to dig a hole, her cries growing louder.
Knives stood facing the man, when he staggered around the corner. His stench preceeded him, and when he saw Knives, his glazed eyes narrowed into a sloppy glare. "Who th'hell are ya? Seen a little retarded girl around here?"
Knives kept his face a mask, his old habits conjuring up murderous thoughts. He reigned them in with a mental curse. Vash had once said he could turn the oven off, but it still took it a while to cool down. And unfortunately for this man, he'd caught Knives in the cooling down mode. He still had a thousand old habits that weren't quite broken. "Is your niece the only child you're molesting? Or are there others?" he asked with acidic calm.
The grungy man stepped back, his jaw dropping. Then he pathetically tried to regain his composure. "What the...! Bullshit talk you sayin'!?" But his own memories betrayed him as Knives picked up on a mental slideshow of faces, instances, and cries of a good dozen more victims. Knives wasn't sure what he was going to do with the girl, but he was sure what he'd do with 'Uncle.'
"And I assume you'll continue?"
"Wha...!? You wanna die, boy!?"
Knives cracked his knuckles, and feathers erupted as his angel arm transformed into a blade. The man fell back as Knives advanced, speaking through his teeth. "Then I guess it can't be helped."
.
.
Where the hell is he? Meryl thought in a growing unease, her attention being divided between her duty and that narrow alley. Just as she considered going after him, she saw his tall, stiff-gaited form heading towards her from the direction he'd left in.
She squinted against the blaring sun. What's that in his arms? He moved quickly, and Meryl almost lost all her concentration when he got close enough for her to make it out.
"A child!?" she gaped. Bejya made a startled noise from behind, as she in turn noticed.
Knives reached the car, and hurriedly swung the door open and plunked down in the driver's seat with the girl in his lap. She was clinging to him and whimpering, her shoulder-length brunette hair hiding most of her face.
Bejya leaned forward. "Knives, what are you…?"
He started the jeep, his take off slamming both Meryl and Bejya back into their seats. His face was set, and his agitation, palpable. "She's coming with us."
Meryl kept up her brainwash over the few residents until they were half a kilometer away. Then she gave Knives and the girl her full attention. It was then that she saw the red blotches on his angel arm.
"Is that blood?"
He didn't answer.
"What happened?"
"The girl's mother is dead, and her uncle was a pedophile."
Meryl gulped. "Was?"
"Was."
She studied him, a knot growing in her stomach. No. It's not possible. After everything he's been through, there's no way he'd take another human life.
"Calm the hell down, Meryl. I didn't kill him."
Bejya leaned forward from the back seat and pointed at the blood on his arm. "Then what's that from?"
"I castrated him."
"Oh, shit." Meryl felt the blood drain from her face as she sank in the chair. She looked at the girl. Then she looked at Knives. And you did it in front of the child?
His eyes widened a fraction and he gulped. He glanced sideways at the girl's crown in apparent worry, then he frowned at Meryl defensively.
"It's not like I had time to premeditate any of this!"
She rubbed her brow. Bejya piped in. "Was there any other family? Anyone who will miss her?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Knives snapped. "She's…" he bit his tongue, and sent the next part mentally. She has a cerebral handicap. I couldn't get her to talk, and it's not like I had time to wait for her to get comfortable around me.
Meryl marveled at him, going over everything that just happened. Knives must have felt the girl's fear as they were taking off. But that he went after her all on his own was remarkable. Not only that, but after saving her from her predator, he couldn't bring himself to leave her there for a neighbor to find. So he decided to bring her home.
She shook her head. His progress was a 180 from how he used to be. If the girl hadn't been in his lap, she imagined she probably would have leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
Knives…
What!? he snapped, and then realized both Meryl and Bejya were smiling at him. He blushed, and kept his eyes forward. If you both keep gloating like that, then I'll drop her off right here.
"You did the right thing, Knives."
Feh.
Deciding to behave, Meryl faced forward and folded her arms across her chest, forcing her grin straight. She knew he wouldn't do it. And damn it all if she didn't love him all the more for it.