A/N: Well, I am very happy, once again, that so many people reviewed this story. I would like to thank all you reviewers! As every author here knows, there's no better feeling than the one you get from good reviews! I love that warm, special feeling…although a part of that might have something to do with some bad chili I ate a few hours ago…

One more thing…A little subject should be addressed before this story goes any further…this is NOT a Knives/Millie story. Although Knives is one of my favorite characters and I love Millie, I'm not writing this to be a Millie/Knives story. Ok? I didn't want to scare people away when they began to think that's where this was going.

Oh, well, time to get to the story!

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Along Came A Spider

Chapter Three: LOST SON

Another two weeks have gone by. Day in and day out, all I can do is lay here and think about what I could have done to prevent this. It's like a nightmare that doesn't go away once I wake up; I know I should have won that fight, but due to the meddling and insubordinate acts of one Nicholas D. Wolfwood, I had lost.

As I shook my head to lose those thoughts into the back of my mind, I slid myself into a sitting position with my back against the wall of the bedroom. From here I could see a clear view of the town outside.

Amongst the buildings and through the streets that made up this infernal hive, the spiders scuttled about their meaningless, short, pathetic lives. They were all ignorant of the danger that was so close to them. I sighed, So close, but yet so far…

The humans—men, women, children—none of them knew that someone such as myself existed in this building. As the wandered by this home, they all shot looks of fear towards it, but I knew that they were not directed at me, the human exterminator. Those looks were meant for my dear brother, the one and only Vash the Stampede.

The irony of it all!

Laughter shook my healed chest. They feared Vash so much, and yet, they know nothing! The man who sought to save them from death was the same man that they feared would bring them that same fate. But none of them knew that, a floor above the Humanoid Typhoon, was the real threat to their existence. And that threat was…

Me.

I looked from the wandering people to the suns high in the sky. From their position I could tell that it was almost noon, and noon meant that she would be coming.

I would have sworn that after our first meeting that woman would have been to frightened to take a step back onto this floor, much less this very room. I remembered her name, Millie Thompson, from Legato's reports and it was quite easy to fit the physical description to that woman.

Everyday that I have been awake, and undoubtedly each day that I slept, that woman came in at noon to place a meal atop the table in this room. Many times I would fake sleep, while I was awake, in the hopes that she would leave quickly without question, but instead it lead her to do such things as check a wound here or there, or to move the bed sheets in some way.

Over the past four days, I had given up and decided it best to lay awake as to scare the insurance girl away. She stopped from checking my wounds and anything else that would bring her closer to me than she had to be, but yet, that woman still came to this room, everyday at noon.

She was brave, I had to give her that. Braver than most humans, especially ones that had come into contact with me. One thing still bothered me, though.

Why was she doing all this? Why bring me, Millions Knives, food and care for my wounds in the way she has? Has Vash not told her the whole truth, about what has happened between us and what I have done?

No, he must not have. That is so like him, to spare someone horrible knowledge such as that. That, though, still did not explain the seemingly caring behavior of the human. I shook my head, no…there must be a logical reason she is doing this…humans care not for the fate of others. Vash must be forcing her to do this for him. It was a possibility that he couldn't bear to look at me at this moment, but I still was not sure if that was the answer.

I had to get out of here…I had to leave! My eyes locked onto my suit still hanging across the room. Maybe now that I felt stronger, I could…I slowly slid my tired legs off of the bed. I had tried moving them at least once a day, but up till yesterday, they had not listened to my commands.

My legs shook like pudding and my vision twirled before me as I stood. I pushed the sickening feeling out of my body. I had to get to my clothes! It was a long shot, but…maybe…just maybe, it was still in one of the pockets.

My leg rose as I took my first step, but once I laid it back onto the floor, by leg buckled and soon after, found myself embracing the floor. I let out a curse and looked back to the suit. Being that close, closer to it than I had been for weeks, I couldn't give up.

I reached out with my arms and grabbed a hold of the floor boards, and I began to pull myself across the room. After a few agonizing, hour-long minutes, I made it to the outfit. I reached up and gripped one of the legs. I pulled it down, tearing a piece off as I ripped it off of the coat hook.

My hands instantly reached into the pockets, but much to my dismay, I found…nothing. It was should not have been surprising, but yet I couldn't help but to feel, once again, defeated.

Even Vash wasn't that dumb or trusting as to leave my revolver in the room I resided in. I did not know what I would have done if the weapon was there, but maybe…maybe I just wanted it for insurance, just to be sure that if these human women decided to turn on me, I would have a chance to fight back even in this weakened state.

That gun was my last chance I had escape this place…it was my last hope to eradicate the humans. No…it isn't my last hope…there is one other I could wish for, but…

I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. I could not weaken myself with optimism, not at a time or place such as this.

I shoved my face into the crumpled ball that was my body suit. "DAMN IT!!" the scream was muffled by the clothing. As anger seethed out of me, my eyes closed and I slowly fell back to sleep.

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With plate in hand and a smile on her face, Millie strolled towards Knives's room as she did everyday at this time. Pushing open the door to the room, Millie gasped at the sight she saw.

Knives laid on the floor next to the door, his face smothered in his clothes that he tore from the wall. Quickly setting the plate on the floor, Millie fell to her knees. She moved her hand to Knives, but he stirred a little before she could touch him.

A relieved sigh escaped Millie's lips, "Good, you're still breathing." She shook her head at the sleeping figure, "Silly, you could have asked for your clothes if you wanted them so much!"

After placing the plate onto the table, Millie bent back down and slid her arms under the almost nude body of Millions Knives. Using all her strength—the strength that, for a reason unknown to her, always surprised people—lifted the man.

Making it to the bed without Knives awakening, Milly placed him onto it and covered him with the sheets. She was very, very thankful that the man had not woken up. If he had, she didn't want to know what the normally hate-filled man would have done.

As she walked to leave, Millie's foot caught on something. The tall woman looked down and there, on her foot, was the crumpled pile of cloth that was Knives's suit. She picked it up and shook it so that she could get a good look at it.

It had multiple holes and around them were blood stains. A smile crossed her face as Millie got an idea into her usually idea-free mind. "It'll be a surprise for him! After all, he won't get friendlier if we don't show some hospitality," Millie said to herself.

Holding the clothing in her arms, she left to prepare her surprise for Millions Knives.

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Aaron walked into the large building before him, trying to prevent himself from running off in fear. He turned to the figure that was following him and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Standing there in the mid-day light was Cherub, the dangerous child that had entered Jeneorarock only a day before.

The boy had gone crazy after Aaron's partner, Forgo, had touched him in an act of greeting and killed the man. As Cherub stood before him with each sheriff's weapons aimed at Aaron, the man had been expecting the worse. Out of sheer luck, or an act of cruelty by a higher power, Cherub, his anger spent on Forgo, spared Aaron. Now, Aaron was at the frightening teenager's beckon call.

Many villagers were drawn out of their homes by the sound of a gun shot, and Cherub, whether he meant it as a way to strike fear into the populace or just for a little target practice, killed a large group them.

When Cherub struck at the innocent people with the weapons of the town's law enforcers, he moved like the wind and had the carefully planned accuracy that rivaled that of a surgeon. Due to this, Aaron gave up counting those the fifteen year-old felled at about twenty victims.

The long-haired blonde boy strolled into the building, his eyes going over each area of the room and his mouth sealed into a thin line. "Where have you brought me?" Cherub said once he had observed everything that could be seen.

Aaron took a deep breath to ensure that he did not say or do something to aggravate the boy, "I-it's a church," he managed, "it's the Church of Jeneorarock. I-I figured you would need a place to rest during—"

"I do not need rest," Cherub interrupted, "I am not tired."

Aaron closed his eyes, thinking that he had finally did something wrong, but instead of a sudden death, he heard, "Why do you not answer me? Tell me what this place is!"

Eyes suddenly open, Aaron could see Cherub still standing before him. Although his expression did not seem to change, the man could feel the boy was growing impatient. "Well, um…I don't quite know how to explain…"

"That is not a surprise…" Cherub shook his head and glared at his captive, "How useless." He walked towards Aaron and the man stiffened and held his breath, but Cherub continued past, walking to a large frieze on the far wall of the church. Aaron let his breath out and allowed himself to relax a tiny bit.

The man joined Cherub, who happened to be staring intently at the carving. "What is this?" the boy gestured towards the frieze.

The carving was of a figure shown with his arms wide as his long hair flowing in what must have been wind and his elegant wings spread behind him, encompassing much of the wall. "It-it is an angel…"

"Angel?" Cherub repeated. His eyes seemed to glow bright and what appeared to be a the tiny smile crossed his face. He placed his hand on the bottom of the carving and seemed to lose his mind in it, as if the angel resembled a family member of loved one that he had not seen in a long time.

Aaron looked at the boy strangely and then glanced to the picture of the angel. He was shocked to think that he saw some similarities between the Cherub and the picture. The chiseled features, the hair…

"It is quite obvious that there is nothing here for me. I have found nothing about my father here," Cherub said as he looked to Aaron. The boy's face was once again back to its inquisitive, yet bored status, "I will be leaving this pitiful little town soon."

Aaron felt glee in his heart. Finally this little demon would leave him and the town forever and he would be someone else's problem! A smile crept onto his face as he realized he would survive this ordeal.

"You and the others have been somewhat helpful, but…" as Cherub said this, Aaron's hopes sunk, "That usefulness has run out, and you are nothing more than garbage now, just like all the rest.

"And garbage, as anyone knows, must be disposed of." Cherub, once again faster than Aaron's eye could track, shot the man in the chest with a gun he pulled out of his pocket. Falling to the ground with his hand clutching the lethal wound, Aaron stared into the eyes of the boy who looked down upon him as a superior would a subordinate.

As he slowly slipped into darkness, one thought rung in Aaron's mind. Those eyes…I've seen them before…on the wanted poster of Vash the Stampede…

As Cherub left to clean up the rest of the useless garbage, a snicker escaped his throat and a blissful smile of pride grew on his young, handsome face. He brandished his weapons and exited the church, walking proudly down the steps towards the rest of Jeneorarock. The thought that elicited so much glee from him was a simple one that would make any child joyful and confident:

Father would be proud of me.

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A/N: Yes, Cherub is a nice little boy, ain't he? Well…now that you have read it, what do you do now?

You: REVIEW!!

Hustino: –gives you cookie- smart little reader!