Day 72
It would have been better if he were dead.
He knows that even is brother is beginning to think that now.
Knives hardly eats, hardly drinks, he sleeps constantly, waking up only for the changing of bandages, baths, and other necessities. He lies still upon the bed, his skin turning white-grey, his flesh sticking to his bones, his delicate condition made all the worse, a living corpse. A trapped butterfly starving in the spider's web.
It's affecting his brother, too. Once Vash's movements were quick, full of energy and precision, he came into the room often and regularly, he talked to his brother, even smiled at him. Now, though, he is slower, lazier. His visits come later, infrequently; he does not talk at all. It's as though the malaise dragging Knives down is affecting Vash, destroying both twins.
One night, when Vash has barely managed to get more than a sip of water and a spoonful of broth between his sibling's throat, he begins to cry.
From dark rimmed, half closed eyes Knives watches Vash, not entirely unaffected by his brothers tears.
'Why?' he rasps, his husky voice breaking the silence of the living tomb, 'why are you doing this? Just let me go, Vash. Let me die.'
Vash's head snaps up, he looks at his brother not with understanding, or with love, but with something entirely unexpected.
It is something close to rage.
'You're pathetic,' he hisses, 'you claim that you're so much better than humans, that we're so much better, but really you're nothing. At least humans try to live, hell, that's what screws them up so much sometimes. They survive, not matter what the odds, no matter what the cost. Look at you, one defeat, one humiliation and you sulk and pout and just give up!'
Vash's voice is a near scream now, and Knives gapes in shock. In his life he has hardly ever seen his brother this angry.
'You claim I'm the childish one,' rants Vash, seemingly oblivious of Knives' stunned expression, 'at least I don't sulk and give up when things don't go my way! You're a looser, Knives, a pitiful, sad looser. You're not a butterfly, you're not even a spider you're… you're… you're a maggot!'
For the first time in many weeks, Knives struggles against the pain, his body juddering, his face twisting into a mask of rage which more than equalled his brother's.
'Take that back!' he shrieks, his voice high and shrill, 'take that back or I swear I'll tear you apart!'
'And you're going to do that how, exactly?'
'I… Oh Vash,' snarls Knives, venom dripping from every word, 'when I recover from these bullet holes, when I get out of this bed, I swear what I'll do to you will make ultimate suffering will seem like a benediction!'
'When you get better?'
'Damn right, bastard!'
'Ah good,' Vash says, his face suddenly, miraculously splitting into a grin, 'you'd better finish off this rice then. Can't show me ultimate suffering when you're cooped up in bed, can you?'
He proffers the spoon, once again heaped with broth. Knives accepts it, swallowing it down eagerly and nodding for more. He gulps down the entire bowl, and a glass of water besides, anything to spit in the Vash's extremely happy face, the ridiculous grin of his grinding against Knives' pride.
When all the food is gone Vash goes out of the room to fetch more, and it is only when he is alone does Knives realize what he has allowed to happen.
His brother has won once again; he's rekindled the spark of life, or the spark of anger. He's made him want to live again, if only so that he can end Vash's own life.
For a brief, spiteful moment Knives tries to smother the fire, but soon realizes that it is impossible. He's too angry, and that anger, that wounded pride, will drive him onwards, force him to live.
'Damn, Vash, but you are a cunning bastard,' he mutters, and despite himself, smiles.
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Reader Replies:
Sorry I'm so late posting this chapter. The computers round here went down for a bit, then I couldn't actually READ the reviews you guys posted so I didn't want to put in another chapter where I couldn't actually reply… augh! Very annoying.
Well, I hope this last part was alright. It's wonderful to see so many people reviewing, I've got a wonderful warm feeling in my heart now! Thanks guys! If I've missed someone out then I'm sorry.
Silverarm: Glad I amused you! Thanks for the Knives complement, BTW, I tried very hard in this fic to keep his progression… subtle. I only hope it works. I don't want to have him screaming 'death to the spiders!' in one chapter and, in the next, spouting love and peace.
Aoi: Thanks very much for reviewing! I'm glad the point of view is working for you. I'm not really sure why I wrote it like this, to be honest. I knew I wanted to tell it from Knives point of view because he's going to be the one undergoing psychological change, thus it's his mind we want to look into, but why I chose present tense to do this I honestly don't know. Oooh, can you direct me to that picture? Please? Pretty please? I really want to see it!
Sek: Another person who's having fun with this! Excellent! Interaction if fun, I like interaction, and I do like to believe that I'm nothing if not original…
Angelstryke: Ooooh, I motivated you? Go me! Yeah, the coat thing is very significant, I think. I also think it signified that he was finally moving out of Rem's shadow, making his own destiny as it were. Very significant, if a bit sad… it was such a nice coat… I'm very happy that I'm doing OK with Knives' character; he's such a touch one to write! I'm never sure if I'm doing him right or not. On the one hand he's… cold, but on the other he's insanely passionate. It's a difficult combination and I'm relieved it's working well. And yes, I'll keep updating… if you keep reviewing!