Chapter 3
Typhoon
Two Years Later
Time passed quickly in the desert. The rotation of the planet was similar to Earth, taking about twenty-four hours, but there were no true seasons because of the multiple suns. There was spring and summer, hot and hotter, and the nights were very cold no matter what time of the year it was. The months passed by with the phases of the moons, and if there'd been scientists, they'd probably be curious how oceans would have reacted to the shifting of so many satellites. There were already constant typhoons that passed over the landscape, raging winds powerful enough to strip a man's skin from his body. Had there been water, perhaps it would have caused terrible tsunamis. No one thought about that as they prayed for water, wished there had been at least one ocean on this lonely planet.
Vash's hair was growing long and there was nothing that Knives could do about it. He looked up from his seat in the laboratory at his shaggy brother and looked over at the pair of scissors sitting up neatly in its container. They'd had short hair since they were babies, and his own stuck up everywhere naturally, which was something that Knives later found out wasn't natural for a human. Vash's hair seemed to relate directly to his mood. He was depressed a lot lately, a lazy beard, and dirty hair. His brother took to wandering the ship now, gun hanging at his side, from time to time sitting at the computer and tapping at it, then going off again until it was time for dinner. Now that they'd run out of food, some nights he didn't come back at all.
Today he sat at the computer, idly tapping at keys, his green eyes focused on something mildly interesting, at least enough so that he hadn't moved from the spot for a few hours. Knives sat quietly piecing together a new control valve for his sister. He was able to switch the flow of electricity to encompass the ship and his lab, but the switch took the power away from basic living functions. The food processors sat empty and quiet for almost a month now, and the sound of his brother's stomach rumbling prompted Knives to fix the problem.
About the same time everyday, Vash would come into the laboratory, almost as if he were a dog waiting to be fed. He'd sit down at the computer and his stomach would make such an audible noise that Knives couldn't concentrate. As it was, his own stomach was starting to have sympathy pains; it had been even longer since he'd eaten. He didn't want to believe he was hungry. Not after all this time, he only ate because Vash did, not that he needed it, that's what he kept telling himself. Now he was starting to reassess their power, maybe they needed food just as the plants needed a boost of power from time to time. Knives sighed and soldered the last pieces of the valve together.
Vash turned slowly on his chair and his eyes fell on Knives for only a moment. His brother looked up from the valve and for a second he could see that Vash had given up on being fed for another day. His stomach made one last complaint, and in a horrifying response, Knives' did too. It complained so loudly that the corner of Vash's lips curled upward until his teeth were showing. "I knew it..." he started. "You're hungry too."
Knives looked down at his work again, frown creasing his brow. "It's nothing. I'm working on getting the food processor back up."
Two hands fell on his desk, and Knives looked up into his brother's face. He was still smiling, "So when is it going to be operational again?"
Suddenly Knives wanted to wipe that smile off of Vash's face with his fist. They'd gotten along fine all of these years when Vash remained silent and obedient, but there were times, times like these, that Knives knew somewhere deep inside of the man lay strength to stand up to him. He'd fight back one of these days, turn against him like he did a few years back, and it scared him that he might lose Vash to the humans. Knives moaned inwardly, he didn't want to believe he'd lose his brother to those insects. "A week, maybe two," he answered finally. "I used to many of its parts in other things, and I've used up nearly all of the rest of the ship that wasn't necessary for our survival. I'm gong to have to see what other functions are not mandatory for what I need before I can get it all back together again."
"In other words, you need supplies," Vash received a reluctant nod from Knives. "If it's going to take two weeks, then I'm going into town." He turned on his heal and started toward the doorway. Knives stood, a bit too abruptly, knocked over the soldering iron and scrambled to right it again. Vash turned with a sly grin on his face and he watched in utter curiosity. "Having problems?"
Knives looked up at Vash, infuriated. "Yes! Yes I'm having problems." He shoved away from the desk and his hands curled into fists. "You are not going into town. Not after last time." His stomach growled louder and for the first time, Knives felt hungry, genuinely hungry, so much so that it was debilitating. He felt clumsy, and it was not something he was proud of at all. It made him feel less like a plant, weaker and weaker until he couldn't even think straight.
"And you're going to stop me, I suppose?" Vash's eyes grew a shade darker, as if he were remembering something, then they snapped up again, "I'm not going to let you bully me anymore Knives. You have your electric leash, isn't that enough? I'm tired of if here, I need to eat and I need to see people, because I'm just not like you..." His hands were in his pockets, but Knives could see they too were balled into fists. Vash would be ready to fight him back this time if he chose to go that route. Before it had been simple to beat his brother down, Vash never fought back, never complained, just fell into tears. But with his body acting this way...
"I'll go with you," Knives said slowly. If anything he could keep the visit short, get into the town and get out again without any undue attention. "I'm not going to let you go alone."
Vash laughed, "I'm a big boy now Knives, I can do it by myself." He raised his hand out of his pocket, "Want me to count off how old I am in human years? We've been on this planet for fifty-two years now..." His eyes fell on Knives' eyes, and although he hadn't meant to show his emotions, there were too many to hide. "You're worried I won't come back."
"I'm worried the humans will brainwash you and stick you into a glass globe," Knives spat. "Just like they nearly did the last time."
"No," Vash countered, "The last time they held a party for me since I was able to save the town from bandits. You called me away before I even try my first beer..." He held up a hand, "I know what you said before, you don't know what affect alcohol might have on us, but I thought it would have been interesting to test it." Vash's smile returned, "I saw Marissa then too. Didn't get to talk to her, but you know, she should be about eighteen now I suppose."
Knives growled, "Don't talk about her."
"Why not?" Vash was pushing it. Knives could tell he was trying to push the right buttons and get him to snap again. If he snapped they'd be at each other's throats. This time he was ready, this time Vash would fight back, and this was the first time Knives felt reluctant to do it. Vash was stronger, he knew that already. "Come on Knives, aren't you even a bit curious about how she's getting along? She really took a liking to you; everyone in town saw it. They wanted to know why we hadn't adopted her, instead of leaving her in that city."
Without a word, Knives returned to his desk and turned off the soldering iron and the lamp. "I'm going with you. We're going to town for food and some supplies and then we're coming back." He passed Vash, and pressed the key on the sliding door. It whooshed open and hot air greeted him as he went into the hall. This would not do, would not do at all. He'd grown soft, even as he planned to kill off the human race, he still thought about that girl. That damn girl with her bright violet eyes, a color he'd never once seen on another human being. Why did she have to be as perfect as he'd always dreamed she would be? How often had he wished that he could have woken her on the ship all of those years ago... Ugh, no. She's a human! An insect, like all the rest of them. I'm forgetting just how much they're like garbage since I haven't been around them in so long... If anything this trip will help to remind me.
Over half a week into the trip and the desert wasn't silent any more. Knives frowned. Too many times now his face formed into the familiar scowl so that it had started to bug Vash. "Rem would say your face would stick that way..." Knives glared at Vash but his brother merely shrugged. "I'm thinking it's already stuck. Can you even smile anymore?"
"No," Knives said, pointing out into the desert. "Besides, there's a storm coming."
Vash's eyes widened, "A storm? Guess I couldn't hear it over my stomach."
"Typhoon I'd imagine," came the reply. Sure enough, it was coming closer, the winds picked up in the desert, throwing sand and gravel into the air. It was a great storm of dirt, pounding rocks like hail, winds stirring up clouds into the atmosphere. They looked like gigantic mountains arising in the distance.
Knives squinted in the sunshine, holding a hand over his face, "It will be here in a few minutes," he said, looking over at his brother. Vash stood the same as he did, shielding eyes and fingers twitching nervously.
"Is there somewhere we can go?"
"No," Knives sat down on a rock and crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll just wait here as it passes."
"But Knives..."
Calm eyes lifted to look at his brother. "Are you worried we might die, Vash?"
Vash looked down at Knives and with a frown crossing his features, he sat down as well. "No." The winds ripped through their hair and clothing. Sand and stones pounding at every inch of their bodies as the typhoon slammed into them. Knives laughed into the storm as Vash fell backwards, covering his face with his hands, crouching down behind the stone where Knives remained.
This was their home. This would become paradise. Human beings could not survive, but they could. Even as his clothes ripped and his cheeks stained with blood, Knives laughed. They would survive and become masters of this place. This was his, and he would stop anyone that got in his way.
When the storm finally passed, Knives felt better, much better than he had in quite some time. He turned around on the stone and peered at Vash. His brother was half buried in sand and bleeding as well. The smell was not unpleasant to Knives' nose, and he bent to pull his brother from the sand. "Are you okay, Vash?"
Eyes fluttered open and then closed again, and Vash grunted softly. Knives let go of his arm, climbed off the rock and pulled Vash completely out of the sand. His brother slouched down into Knives' arms and was just barely breathing. "Vash... Quit fooling around," he grumbled, letting Vash go to topple back over in the sand. "Dammit, you aren't are you?" Falling to his knees, he looked over the wounds that covered Vash's body; he was bleeding more than it first appeared. Between his hunger and the loss of blood, Vash was...
"Vash!" Knives heaved Vash to his shoulder. They hadn't brought anything with them; there hadn't been any need to, no food to pack, no clothing, no supplies. They were plants, right? They weren't human, didn't need the same supplies... Now Knives was cursing his thoughtlessness. He could have brought bandages or something along in case they ran into a sand worm... They were too far away from the ship. Now they had to continue forward, to the town, but Vash...
His footsteps fell heavily with the additional weight of his brother over his shoulder. He was still breathing, just barely, and any bit of life in him gave Knives the urge to keep moving. "Don't worry Vash..." The sand was so hard to walk in, his feet slid deep into it, made it as hard to walk through as mud, harder even, as he tried to climb the hills, sliding down, losing his grip on his brother. They'd slide down a hill, Vash rolling into a pile of sand at the bottom, and Knives would go back for him, pick him up and try the climb again. For two days, Knives didn't stop, knew he couldn't chance it. His own stomach rumbled in the still air, and he cursed his body again, just as he had so many other times. He cursed Vash for being so much weaker... "Vash... Wake up."
But his brother's green eyes never flared open, even as the sand turned to stone, and a city stretched below him. It was bigger than before. He wasn't even sure what the name of the town was, although now there were sidewalks and vehicles coming and going. A caravan camped to one side of the town, large trucks, smaller cars, and people everywhere. Knives readjusted Vash on his shoulder, "Vash wake up, look where we are." Still no movement, even as he walked down to the town. I know I'm not going to enjoy this. But it's for Vash... I must control my temper until he's well again, just as before.
"Hey! Is he okay?" A voice floated from a house at the outskirts. Knives looked over at a young man who came down the porch steps, "Do you need a doctor?" The man rushed over, looking over the twins. Knives made note of how his eyes fell not only on Vash but on him as well. He probably didn't look much better, the typhoon had ripped as his face and clothing. Knives didn't even consider the fact his appearance was probably that of the walking dead to this human.
"My brother does," he answered reluctantly. What was he expecting anyway? Free access to first aid supplies without the humans' interference? He cursed himself again, of course they'd want a hand in it, and he wouldn't be able to argue. "I'm fine, but..."
The young man turned and yelled into the house, "Stephanie call your brother out back, we're going to need to get this guy to the doctor!" A young woman's head appeared from the doorway, and then disappeared again. Moments later she and a man her own age came running out.
"Good grief man, what happened?" The two men relieved Knives of Vash, and carried him to the front porch. Stephanie was already on her way down the street to get the doctor. Knives, feeling the lessened weight on his shoulder sagged. He hurt more than he first thought. He was healing much slower than before; probably do to the lack of food. But without Vash being awake to see it, he didn't really care. He was too weak to argue with anyone about his condition.
"Typhoon," Knives responded slowly as he slumped down onto the porch next to Vash. His brother's breathing was still shallow and his cuts still were not healing either. "We... Lost our car in it, our supplies..." His brain was foggy, was this how humans acted around each other? The lie would work right? He just wasn't sure. A smell wafted out from the house and his stomach growled. Knives set a hand down on it, food. That's what that smell was. The human woman must have been cooking something. It smelled... wonderful.
The first young man, Michael, Knives soon found out from the other man's chatter, walked up the steps. "Doctor Neiman should be here in a minute, sounds like you could use something to eat..." He disappeared into the house and the other young man fussed over Vash's head, looking at the cuts and scratches.
"Don't touch him," Knives spat, and the young man scooted back.
"Oh, I'm sorry... Just, I've never seen anyone so torn up before. He's got a lot of scars. You been in a typhoon before?" The man was looking at Vash's arm where the bullet passed through. Every scar showed up on his light skin. Knives sighed. He should have made Vash wear something more appropriate for the weather, but hadn't thought of that either. He still wore human clothing; short sleeves and what was left of it didn't do much to cover up his brother's appearance.
"Yeah, you could say that," Knives replied slowly. His eyes turned to see Stephanie and the doctor coming down the road at a good clip. The doctor rushed up the stairs and set his bag down nearby. He pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Vash's chest before looking up at Knives. "What do you think?"
Dr. Neiman clicked his tongue, "You're both in pretty bad shape but I'll see what I can do. We need to get him to the hospital. Hey Frank, get your car." Stephanie's brother jumped up from the porch and ran around the back to do as ordered. Neiman grabbed Vash under the shoulders and Knives started to help when the doctor snapped, "Oh no you don't. You're not in any condition, Michael, grab his feet." The other man set down the sandwiches he'd made and did as told. They brought Vash down and set him in the car that Frank brought around. Knives looked at the food wearily but knew there was no time to stop for a snack. He followed the others down the stairs.
Knives sat down next to Frank, the other two men and his brother in the backseat. The car sped down the road to the hospital. It was a squat building painted all white with a red cross over the door. Otherwise it wasn't very impressive. Apparently the town was small enough not to need a very large hospital. A young woman ran out of the building wearing all white and grabbed his arm. Knives didn't look at her as she guided him out of the car and into the building. His attention was on Vash as another crew of nurses came out with a gurney to bring his brother in as well. "Hey, be careful with him!" He said, feeling helpless. This is a first, he thought to himself, but the last time he'd felt like this was... Was when the plants started to scream that one night. Knives knew at this moment there was nothing to be done. He couldn't very well pull out his gun and start shooting people; it wouldn't help Vash get better any faster.
"Don't worry about him, he's your brother right?" The nurse at his side said, and Knives nodded slowly. "Must be twins, I can see the resemblance," she continued. "Anyway, Dr. Neiman is the best we've got here in New San Diego. Don't worry a bit. What we need to concentrate on is getting your own wounds taken care of." Knives sighed, pulling his eyes away from Vash to look at the nurse by his side and his breathing stopped. He collapsed right then and there, unable to control his own legs anymore. He cursed inwardly, even as he stared up at her frightened face, and saw how her violet eyes contorted with determination to pull him up again. "You okay?"
"Marissa..." Knives sputtered.
She nodded, "Do I know you?" Her face was still set into that determined smile as she hauled him again to his feet. "You okay? Think you can stand on your own?"
"Yes, sure," he responded, but at this minute he wasn't so sure. It was her. Indeed, she was about eighteen as Vash said, and here she was, in the hospital, clinging onto his arm, looking up at him with those violet eyes, the ones he couldn't stand to see again... Hoped he'd never see again... Knives wrenched free of her grasp. "What do you want?"
"I want to help you, obviously," Marissa pointed down the hall, "There's an empty examining room to the left, I'll get bandages. Think you can make it?" Knives lurched into movement and went down into the empty room, all along shaking his head and cursing the foul luck that brought him here, to her, exactly the person he didn't want to see during this little trip. She wasn't a girl anymore, she was big... She... Oh no, they're all just garbage, even her...I'm just hungry, that's it... Weak. Once I eat again my head will clear from these foolish thoughts!
He clutched his head, wondering nominally about how Vash was doing, more so about the fact that he was acting more human at this moment in his life than he ever had. Knives wanted to rip out his own hair, tear out his eyes or something... He glanced around the room, trying to figure out whether he'd be able to do something to himself without having the girl walk back in on him... "Here we are," she said, smiling again, a tray in her hands covered in bandages, antiseptic and clean towels. "I'll get you fixed up in a jiffy, Mr....?"
"Knives..." He sputtered, and then stopped as Marissa looked at him funny. He'd said it more like a question, still looking for something sharp to kill himself with. Stupid foul human... "Millions," he said after a moment, correcting himself.
"Millions..." Marissa trailed off with the word still on her lips. "I've heard that name before somewhere, it's been awhile though, I think..." She set one of the towels into a bowl of warm water and started to wipe his face. Knives tried not to look at her. This was disgusting. A human touching him, especially this one... Her face was thoughtful as she blotted his forehead. "I knew a Millions once. Nice guy... Had a brother..." Finally her eyes opened wide and she pulled her hand away from him. "You!"
Knives looked away, frowning. She put her hands on his shoulders and moved her head to look in his face. "Hey, don't," Knives spat, but she didn't let him go.
"It is you. You don't look any different... So that's... What was his name again, Vash? Yes, I seem to recall. How could I forget those weird eyes of yours?"
"My eyes aren't weird, yours are," Knives replied. He sneered, "What color is that anyway, they look like two big bruises..."
Marissa laughed, "Violet I'll have you know." She resumed cleaning his face. "I haven't seen you in so long... I really thought you'd never come back." Knives looked at her, his chest tightened and he suddenly wanted to lie down. He snatched the towel from her and threw it in the bowl of water.
"Stop touching me. I didn't want to come back to this town." Knives growled. "But Vash..."
She nodded slowly, "I saw him. What were you doing? Trying to get yourselves killed?" Marissa came at him with a swab, and started to blot his scratches with alcohol. Knives hissed at her and reached for her arm, but she dodged. "Stop that! Let me clean them." He started to stand but she went after his face again. Knives leaned back, but she grabbed his face and sneered, "Hold still you big baby." She finished with his face and smeared the ointment onto his wounds. "There, they weren't really all that bad. Shouldn't even scar. You were lucky to survive something like that."
"Lucky, humph," came Knives' response. He avoided looking at the girl's face. How'd she get so... "Where's Vash, I need to see him."
"Not yet, the doctor is looking him over," Marissa said, she had a firm hold on Knives' arm as he tried to stand. She wasn't very strong, and under normal circumstances he could have broken her in half with his own two hands. But he felt weak and couldn't bring himself to harm her, not with Vash still lying unconscious... "You must be starved," she continued after a moment once Knives relaxed again. "If you promise to stay here I'll get you something to eat."
He nodded and Marissa let go of his arm. "Okay, sit tight." She left the room and Knives sighed. I will not come to depend on these humans, but if I don't play along...
A few hours later, Knives sat at Vash's bedside. A tray of uneaten food sat next to the bedside, and Knives looked at it wearily. Vash hadn't woken up. Doctor Neiman's examination determined Vash to be starved, very dehydrated, and after the typhoon, he was amazed that either twin was still alive. Vash was hooked up to an IV, sleeping peacefully in bed. Knives never saw his brother so sickly before. He was skinny and frail, and it scared him. What would he do if he were to lose Vash? They'd been together for so long... No, plants can't die, he told himself. "They just can't," he reaffirmed it out loud, placing a hand on Vash's forehead. "You can't."
"Are you okay, Millions?" Marissa said, coming into the room as quietly. Knives turned to look at her. She changed out of her nursing uniform, and now wore jeans and a blouse. He turned away, disgusted. What intrigued her so much that she would come to look in after them? She owed them nothing.
"I'm fine."
"Well, my shift is over now," she said slowly, coming to stand beside the bed. "Dr. Neiman said he'd probably be out for another day at least. You should probably get some sleep, they'll bring in a cot for you shortly, I know you'll want to stay with him tonight." Marissa set a hand down on Vash's wrist, checking his pulse, and then when she was satisfied, she turned. Hesitated. Knives could feel the tension in the air and wished she'd just leave them alone. "I..."
Knives didn't look at her; he knew what she wanted to know. She wanted to know why he hadn't stayed, why they'd left her here in this town, why he hadn't changed... The questions hung in the air like smoke. He didn't look at her. Even after a full stomach, he still felt weak, more so now that his brother lay unconscious, unable to help him, knowing he couldn't take out his wrath on the only ones who could help him. He was a lion with a thorn in his paw, and this woman, she was the mouse who could remove it. There'd be no eating this mouse as long as they remained here. "What do you want?" He asked quietly, "I know there's something you want to ask me, so you'd better just spit it out and be done with it."
Marissa shifted in her spot, and Knives turned to look at her. She bit her lip; "I just thought that maybe you would like to go to desert with me. I just thought that... It would be something to get your mind off of Vash's condition." She waved a hand at the sleeping man, "He won't be going anywhere, and I won't keep you more than a half hour."
"I don't think..."
"Come on, you owe me," she said suddenly, throwing a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she mumbled through her fingers. "I... Please, just come with me and I won't ask you for anything else."
"Is that a promise?" She nodded. Knives stood. "Fine. I'll come with you. But no questions."
She smiled faintly, "No questions." Then she turned and started out of the door, "There's a very nice little diner just around the corner. They have the best pies... Apple is my favorite."
"Apple..." Knives thought about it for a moment. Vash always liked donuts. But he never acquired his own 'favorite' food. It was merely a way to survive, but apparently all humans must have had a favorite of some sort. He filed away the information before saying, "I've never had pie."
"Well then," Marissa said as they walked down the hallway. "It'll be my treat."
Vash opened his eyes and watched Knives disappear with Marissa. A smile spread across his lips. He turned on his side and propped his head up with a hand. Well, what do you know, Knives found a friend. Vash grinned to himself, and finally pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked down at the tray of food next to the bed. Hospital food, yuck. It was better than nothing however, and he set the tray over onto his lap and dug into the cold potatoes and the melted gelatin. Might not be very tasty, but it was food, and Vash savored every bite. "Ah!! I'm alive again!" He said it quietly, trying not to alert the hospital staff that he was actually awake.
When he finished the tray and set it to the side again, he lay back onto the pillow, staring at the stark white ceiling. It was kind of a cruel thing to do to Knives, he thought briefly. It's not as if he planned the typhoon, but it worked to his advantage. No more walking, and even though it hurt like the dickens when Knives dropped him during the walk, he managed to stay 'unconscious'. He wondered for years what Knives would do if something happened to him. Would he be able to go on or would he be just as miserable as Vash knew he'd be alone? Apparently Knives cared about him, enough to go to the humans for help, enough to actually be peaceful with them long enough for his brother to get better.
Knives did the same thing before so the plan worked out nicely. Took him months to wait for Knives to weaken, knowing he would need to come back to town eventually. He smiled to himself, I'm a genius.
"What... What are you doing awake? How?" Dr. Neiman stood in the doorway, his mouth dropped open. The bandages and ointment he carried dropped to the floor as he stared. Uh oh, Vash thought, busted.
He looked around, playing innocent, "Oh, I uh... I smelled the food and..." he nodded to the empty tray. "I'm mighty sleepy now though..." He closed his eyes, hoping that the old man would go away. If he got too excited, someone would probably run out to get Knives, and Vash couldn't have that at all. He acted asleep again, hoping that the doctor would fall for it, but doubting that he would, and sure enough Neiman was at his eyelids with a little penlight.
"How are you feeling? Do you know where you are? Remember who you are? I'm Dr. Neiman and I've been taking care of you... Maybe I should get your brother..." He rambled on before turning, and Vash reached out an arm and grabbed the back of his lab coat.
"No..." The old doctor closed his mouth. Vash continued, "Don't tell him. He needs to spend some time with Marissa," he said slowly, trying to figure out whether he should tell the doctor his plan or make something up. Rem always told him to tell the truth, so he continued, "We dropped her off in this town quite a few years ago, and I wanted him to see her again."
Dr. Neiman turned and Vash let go of his coat. "I thought you were familiar," he said slowly. "Six years ago you dropped her off at my doorstep. Both of you." He looked over his bifocals at Vash. "You haven't aged. What are you?"
"It doesn't matter." The doctor's brows furrowed, but Vash continued. "I'm glad that you've taken care of her, she's really grown up."
"She's smart," the doctor said slowly. "At first I wasn't sure how smart she was, but within a year she was helping me here in the hospital. Within two she could do a difficult operation on her own. I didn't believe it, but I wasn't going to ignore it. Is she like you?"
Vash shook his head, "No. She came from the SEEDS ship that is out in the middle of sandworm territory. It was the lead ship. I'm told only the smartest people were aboard." He looked at the doctor's surprised expression.
"Marissa was an Earthling?"
A smile spread over Vash's lips, what an odd expression this man used. "You were one too, if I'm not wrong about your age..." The doctor nodded.
"Yes, I was about ten when the ships crashed. I knew about the lead ship. How is it that she's alive? All of this time, she must have been in cryo-sleep."
This conversation was getting interesting Vash realized. It was nice to be around humans again. They were so unpredictable. This doctor in particular remembered the crash, and it didn't make Vash feel quite so old anymore, or quite so alone. Here was someone who knew what it was like to be on Earth! The same planet where Rem grew up, where Rem lost her husband... A place that a few still hoped existed, somewhere out there, light-years away. He wondered idly if he'd ever be able to see it, especially if he were as immortal as Knives always predicted they would be. "She was," he answered after a moment. "We were lost in the desert, found the ship and managed to wake her. The others..." he trailed off, should he tell Neiman about the rest? "There was no one else."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Neiman said. "It's just lucky that you were able to bring her here. I don't know what I would have done without her. I love her like my own daughter."
"That's how it should be," Vash said after a moment. "Unfortunately, if you remember, we couldn't take care of her. We've been looking for our family for a long time."
"Did you find them?"
Vash nodded slowly, "In a matter of speaking, yes."
"Then let's celebrate," Dr. Neiman stood. He smiled down at Vash and a mischievous look crossed his face. "I have a bottle of brandy in my office."
Without Knives around to complain... "I'd like that!" Vash grinned.
"Good, let me go get my secret stash," the doctor winked and disappeared. Vash watched after him. This plan went over much better than even he'd first expected. It was going to be a nice night... As long as nothing goes wrong, he thought. Knock on wood.
Typhoon
Two Years Later
Time passed quickly in the desert. The rotation of the planet was similar to Earth, taking about twenty-four hours, but there were no true seasons because of the multiple suns. There was spring and summer, hot and hotter, and the nights were very cold no matter what time of the year it was. The months passed by with the phases of the moons, and if there'd been scientists, they'd probably be curious how oceans would have reacted to the shifting of so many satellites. There were already constant typhoons that passed over the landscape, raging winds powerful enough to strip a man's skin from his body. Had there been water, perhaps it would have caused terrible tsunamis. No one thought about that as they prayed for water, wished there had been at least one ocean on this lonely planet.
Vash's hair was growing long and there was nothing that Knives could do about it. He looked up from his seat in the laboratory at his shaggy brother and looked over at the pair of scissors sitting up neatly in its container. They'd had short hair since they were babies, and his own stuck up everywhere naturally, which was something that Knives later found out wasn't natural for a human. Vash's hair seemed to relate directly to his mood. He was depressed a lot lately, a lazy beard, and dirty hair. His brother took to wandering the ship now, gun hanging at his side, from time to time sitting at the computer and tapping at it, then going off again until it was time for dinner. Now that they'd run out of food, some nights he didn't come back at all.
Today he sat at the computer, idly tapping at keys, his green eyes focused on something mildly interesting, at least enough so that he hadn't moved from the spot for a few hours. Knives sat quietly piecing together a new control valve for his sister. He was able to switch the flow of electricity to encompass the ship and his lab, but the switch took the power away from basic living functions. The food processors sat empty and quiet for almost a month now, and the sound of his brother's stomach rumbling prompted Knives to fix the problem.
About the same time everyday, Vash would come into the laboratory, almost as if he were a dog waiting to be fed. He'd sit down at the computer and his stomach would make such an audible noise that Knives couldn't concentrate. As it was, his own stomach was starting to have sympathy pains; it had been even longer since he'd eaten. He didn't want to believe he was hungry. Not after all this time, he only ate because Vash did, not that he needed it, that's what he kept telling himself. Now he was starting to reassess their power, maybe they needed food just as the plants needed a boost of power from time to time. Knives sighed and soldered the last pieces of the valve together.
Vash turned slowly on his chair and his eyes fell on Knives for only a moment. His brother looked up from the valve and for a second he could see that Vash had given up on being fed for another day. His stomach made one last complaint, and in a horrifying response, Knives' did too. It complained so loudly that the corner of Vash's lips curled upward until his teeth were showing. "I knew it..." he started. "You're hungry too."
Knives looked down at his work again, frown creasing his brow. "It's nothing. I'm working on getting the food processor back up."
Two hands fell on his desk, and Knives looked up into his brother's face. He was still smiling, "So when is it going to be operational again?"
Suddenly Knives wanted to wipe that smile off of Vash's face with his fist. They'd gotten along fine all of these years when Vash remained silent and obedient, but there were times, times like these, that Knives knew somewhere deep inside of the man lay strength to stand up to him. He'd fight back one of these days, turn against him like he did a few years back, and it scared him that he might lose Vash to the humans. Knives moaned inwardly, he didn't want to believe he'd lose his brother to those insects. "A week, maybe two," he answered finally. "I used to many of its parts in other things, and I've used up nearly all of the rest of the ship that wasn't necessary for our survival. I'm gong to have to see what other functions are not mandatory for what I need before I can get it all back together again."
"In other words, you need supplies," Vash received a reluctant nod from Knives. "If it's going to take two weeks, then I'm going into town." He turned on his heal and started toward the doorway. Knives stood, a bit too abruptly, knocked over the soldering iron and scrambled to right it again. Vash turned with a sly grin on his face and he watched in utter curiosity. "Having problems?"
Knives looked up at Vash, infuriated. "Yes! Yes I'm having problems." He shoved away from the desk and his hands curled into fists. "You are not going into town. Not after last time." His stomach growled louder and for the first time, Knives felt hungry, genuinely hungry, so much so that it was debilitating. He felt clumsy, and it was not something he was proud of at all. It made him feel less like a plant, weaker and weaker until he couldn't even think straight.
"And you're going to stop me, I suppose?" Vash's eyes grew a shade darker, as if he were remembering something, then they snapped up again, "I'm not going to let you bully me anymore Knives. You have your electric leash, isn't that enough? I'm tired of if here, I need to eat and I need to see people, because I'm just not like you..." His hands were in his pockets, but Knives could see they too were balled into fists. Vash would be ready to fight him back this time if he chose to go that route. Before it had been simple to beat his brother down, Vash never fought back, never complained, just fell into tears. But with his body acting this way...
"I'll go with you," Knives said slowly. If anything he could keep the visit short, get into the town and get out again without any undue attention. "I'm not going to let you go alone."
Vash laughed, "I'm a big boy now Knives, I can do it by myself." He raised his hand out of his pocket, "Want me to count off how old I am in human years? We've been on this planet for fifty-two years now..." His eyes fell on Knives' eyes, and although he hadn't meant to show his emotions, there were too many to hide. "You're worried I won't come back."
"I'm worried the humans will brainwash you and stick you into a glass globe," Knives spat. "Just like they nearly did the last time."
"No," Vash countered, "The last time they held a party for me since I was able to save the town from bandits. You called me away before I even try my first beer..." He held up a hand, "I know what you said before, you don't know what affect alcohol might have on us, but I thought it would have been interesting to test it." Vash's smile returned, "I saw Marissa then too. Didn't get to talk to her, but you know, she should be about eighteen now I suppose."
Knives growled, "Don't talk about her."
"Why not?" Vash was pushing it. Knives could tell he was trying to push the right buttons and get him to snap again. If he snapped they'd be at each other's throats. This time he was ready, this time Vash would fight back, and this was the first time Knives felt reluctant to do it. Vash was stronger, he knew that already. "Come on Knives, aren't you even a bit curious about how she's getting along? She really took a liking to you; everyone in town saw it. They wanted to know why we hadn't adopted her, instead of leaving her in that city."
Without a word, Knives returned to his desk and turned off the soldering iron and the lamp. "I'm going with you. We're going to town for food and some supplies and then we're coming back." He passed Vash, and pressed the key on the sliding door. It whooshed open and hot air greeted him as he went into the hall. This would not do, would not do at all. He'd grown soft, even as he planned to kill off the human race, he still thought about that girl. That damn girl with her bright violet eyes, a color he'd never once seen on another human being. Why did she have to be as perfect as he'd always dreamed she would be? How often had he wished that he could have woken her on the ship all of those years ago... Ugh, no. She's a human! An insect, like all the rest of them. I'm forgetting just how much they're like garbage since I haven't been around them in so long... If anything this trip will help to remind me.
Over half a week into the trip and the desert wasn't silent any more. Knives frowned. Too many times now his face formed into the familiar scowl so that it had started to bug Vash. "Rem would say your face would stick that way..." Knives glared at Vash but his brother merely shrugged. "I'm thinking it's already stuck. Can you even smile anymore?"
"No," Knives said, pointing out into the desert. "Besides, there's a storm coming."
Vash's eyes widened, "A storm? Guess I couldn't hear it over my stomach."
"Typhoon I'd imagine," came the reply. Sure enough, it was coming closer, the winds picked up in the desert, throwing sand and gravel into the air. It was a great storm of dirt, pounding rocks like hail, winds stirring up clouds into the atmosphere. They looked like gigantic mountains arising in the distance.
Knives squinted in the sunshine, holding a hand over his face, "It will be here in a few minutes," he said, looking over at his brother. Vash stood the same as he did, shielding eyes and fingers twitching nervously.
"Is there somewhere we can go?"
"No," Knives sat down on a rock and crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll just wait here as it passes."
"But Knives..."
Calm eyes lifted to look at his brother. "Are you worried we might die, Vash?"
Vash looked down at Knives and with a frown crossing his features, he sat down as well. "No." The winds ripped through their hair and clothing. Sand and stones pounding at every inch of their bodies as the typhoon slammed into them. Knives laughed into the storm as Vash fell backwards, covering his face with his hands, crouching down behind the stone where Knives remained.
This was their home. This would become paradise. Human beings could not survive, but they could. Even as his clothes ripped and his cheeks stained with blood, Knives laughed. They would survive and become masters of this place. This was his, and he would stop anyone that got in his way.
When the storm finally passed, Knives felt better, much better than he had in quite some time. He turned around on the stone and peered at Vash. His brother was half buried in sand and bleeding as well. The smell was not unpleasant to Knives' nose, and he bent to pull his brother from the sand. "Are you okay, Vash?"
Eyes fluttered open and then closed again, and Vash grunted softly. Knives let go of his arm, climbed off the rock and pulled Vash completely out of the sand. His brother slouched down into Knives' arms and was just barely breathing. "Vash... Quit fooling around," he grumbled, letting Vash go to topple back over in the sand. "Dammit, you aren't are you?" Falling to his knees, he looked over the wounds that covered Vash's body; he was bleeding more than it first appeared. Between his hunger and the loss of blood, Vash was...
"Vash!" Knives heaved Vash to his shoulder. They hadn't brought anything with them; there hadn't been any need to, no food to pack, no clothing, no supplies. They were plants, right? They weren't human, didn't need the same supplies... Now Knives was cursing his thoughtlessness. He could have brought bandages or something along in case they ran into a sand worm... They were too far away from the ship. Now they had to continue forward, to the town, but Vash...
His footsteps fell heavily with the additional weight of his brother over his shoulder. He was still breathing, just barely, and any bit of life in him gave Knives the urge to keep moving. "Don't worry Vash..." The sand was so hard to walk in, his feet slid deep into it, made it as hard to walk through as mud, harder even, as he tried to climb the hills, sliding down, losing his grip on his brother. They'd slide down a hill, Vash rolling into a pile of sand at the bottom, and Knives would go back for him, pick him up and try the climb again. For two days, Knives didn't stop, knew he couldn't chance it. His own stomach rumbled in the still air, and he cursed his body again, just as he had so many other times. He cursed Vash for being so much weaker... "Vash... Wake up."
But his brother's green eyes never flared open, even as the sand turned to stone, and a city stretched below him. It was bigger than before. He wasn't even sure what the name of the town was, although now there were sidewalks and vehicles coming and going. A caravan camped to one side of the town, large trucks, smaller cars, and people everywhere. Knives readjusted Vash on his shoulder, "Vash wake up, look where we are." Still no movement, even as he walked down to the town. I know I'm not going to enjoy this. But it's for Vash... I must control my temper until he's well again, just as before.
"Hey! Is he okay?" A voice floated from a house at the outskirts. Knives looked over at a young man who came down the porch steps, "Do you need a doctor?" The man rushed over, looking over the twins. Knives made note of how his eyes fell not only on Vash but on him as well. He probably didn't look much better, the typhoon had ripped as his face and clothing. Knives didn't even consider the fact his appearance was probably that of the walking dead to this human.
"My brother does," he answered reluctantly. What was he expecting anyway? Free access to first aid supplies without the humans' interference? He cursed himself again, of course they'd want a hand in it, and he wouldn't be able to argue. "I'm fine, but..."
The young man turned and yelled into the house, "Stephanie call your brother out back, we're going to need to get this guy to the doctor!" A young woman's head appeared from the doorway, and then disappeared again. Moments later she and a man her own age came running out.
"Good grief man, what happened?" The two men relieved Knives of Vash, and carried him to the front porch. Stephanie was already on her way down the street to get the doctor. Knives, feeling the lessened weight on his shoulder sagged. He hurt more than he first thought. He was healing much slower than before; probably do to the lack of food. But without Vash being awake to see it, he didn't really care. He was too weak to argue with anyone about his condition.
"Typhoon," Knives responded slowly as he slumped down onto the porch next to Vash. His brother's breathing was still shallow and his cuts still were not healing either. "We... Lost our car in it, our supplies..." His brain was foggy, was this how humans acted around each other? The lie would work right? He just wasn't sure. A smell wafted out from the house and his stomach growled. Knives set a hand down on it, food. That's what that smell was. The human woman must have been cooking something. It smelled... wonderful.
The first young man, Michael, Knives soon found out from the other man's chatter, walked up the steps. "Doctor Neiman should be here in a minute, sounds like you could use something to eat..." He disappeared into the house and the other young man fussed over Vash's head, looking at the cuts and scratches.
"Don't touch him," Knives spat, and the young man scooted back.
"Oh, I'm sorry... Just, I've never seen anyone so torn up before. He's got a lot of scars. You been in a typhoon before?" The man was looking at Vash's arm where the bullet passed through. Every scar showed up on his light skin. Knives sighed. He should have made Vash wear something more appropriate for the weather, but hadn't thought of that either. He still wore human clothing; short sleeves and what was left of it didn't do much to cover up his brother's appearance.
"Yeah, you could say that," Knives replied slowly. His eyes turned to see Stephanie and the doctor coming down the road at a good clip. The doctor rushed up the stairs and set his bag down nearby. He pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Vash's chest before looking up at Knives. "What do you think?"
Dr. Neiman clicked his tongue, "You're both in pretty bad shape but I'll see what I can do. We need to get him to the hospital. Hey Frank, get your car." Stephanie's brother jumped up from the porch and ran around the back to do as ordered. Neiman grabbed Vash under the shoulders and Knives started to help when the doctor snapped, "Oh no you don't. You're not in any condition, Michael, grab his feet." The other man set down the sandwiches he'd made and did as told. They brought Vash down and set him in the car that Frank brought around. Knives looked at the food wearily but knew there was no time to stop for a snack. He followed the others down the stairs.
Knives sat down next to Frank, the other two men and his brother in the backseat. The car sped down the road to the hospital. It was a squat building painted all white with a red cross over the door. Otherwise it wasn't very impressive. Apparently the town was small enough not to need a very large hospital. A young woman ran out of the building wearing all white and grabbed his arm. Knives didn't look at her as she guided him out of the car and into the building. His attention was on Vash as another crew of nurses came out with a gurney to bring his brother in as well. "Hey, be careful with him!" He said, feeling helpless. This is a first, he thought to himself, but the last time he'd felt like this was... Was when the plants started to scream that one night. Knives knew at this moment there was nothing to be done. He couldn't very well pull out his gun and start shooting people; it wouldn't help Vash get better any faster.
"Don't worry about him, he's your brother right?" The nurse at his side said, and Knives nodded slowly. "Must be twins, I can see the resemblance," she continued. "Anyway, Dr. Neiman is the best we've got here in New San Diego. Don't worry a bit. What we need to concentrate on is getting your own wounds taken care of." Knives sighed, pulling his eyes away from Vash to look at the nurse by his side and his breathing stopped. He collapsed right then and there, unable to control his own legs anymore. He cursed inwardly, even as he stared up at her frightened face, and saw how her violet eyes contorted with determination to pull him up again. "You okay?"
"Marissa..." Knives sputtered.
She nodded, "Do I know you?" Her face was still set into that determined smile as she hauled him again to his feet. "You okay? Think you can stand on your own?"
"Yes, sure," he responded, but at this minute he wasn't so sure. It was her. Indeed, she was about eighteen as Vash said, and here she was, in the hospital, clinging onto his arm, looking up at him with those violet eyes, the ones he couldn't stand to see again... Hoped he'd never see again... Knives wrenched free of her grasp. "What do you want?"
"I want to help you, obviously," Marissa pointed down the hall, "There's an empty examining room to the left, I'll get bandages. Think you can make it?" Knives lurched into movement and went down into the empty room, all along shaking his head and cursing the foul luck that brought him here, to her, exactly the person he didn't want to see during this little trip. She wasn't a girl anymore, she was big... She... Oh no, they're all just garbage, even her...I'm just hungry, that's it... Weak. Once I eat again my head will clear from these foolish thoughts!
He clutched his head, wondering nominally about how Vash was doing, more so about the fact that he was acting more human at this moment in his life than he ever had. Knives wanted to rip out his own hair, tear out his eyes or something... He glanced around the room, trying to figure out whether he'd be able to do something to himself without having the girl walk back in on him... "Here we are," she said, smiling again, a tray in her hands covered in bandages, antiseptic and clean towels. "I'll get you fixed up in a jiffy, Mr....?"
"Knives..." He sputtered, and then stopped as Marissa looked at him funny. He'd said it more like a question, still looking for something sharp to kill himself with. Stupid foul human... "Millions," he said after a moment, correcting himself.
"Millions..." Marissa trailed off with the word still on her lips. "I've heard that name before somewhere, it's been awhile though, I think..." She set one of the towels into a bowl of warm water and started to wipe his face. Knives tried not to look at her. This was disgusting. A human touching him, especially this one... Her face was thoughtful as she blotted his forehead. "I knew a Millions once. Nice guy... Had a brother..." Finally her eyes opened wide and she pulled her hand away from him. "You!"
Knives looked away, frowning. She put her hands on his shoulders and moved her head to look in his face. "Hey, don't," Knives spat, but she didn't let him go.
"It is you. You don't look any different... So that's... What was his name again, Vash? Yes, I seem to recall. How could I forget those weird eyes of yours?"
"My eyes aren't weird, yours are," Knives replied. He sneered, "What color is that anyway, they look like two big bruises..."
Marissa laughed, "Violet I'll have you know." She resumed cleaning his face. "I haven't seen you in so long... I really thought you'd never come back." Knives looked at her, his chest tightened and he suddenly wanted to lie down. He snatched the towel from her and threw it in the bowl of water.
"Stop touching me. I didn't want to come back to this town." Knives growled. "But Vash..."
She nodded slowly, "I saw him. What were you doing? Trying to get yourselves killed?" Marissa came at him with a swab, and started to blot his scratches with alcohol. Knives hissed at her and reached for her arm, but she dodged. "Stop that! Let me clean them." He started to stand but she went after his face again. Knives leaned back, but she grabbed his face and sneered, "Hold still you big baby." She finished with his face and smeared the ointment onto his wounds. "There, they weren't really all that bad. Shouldn't even scar. You were lucky to survive something like that."
"Lucky, humph," came Knives' response. He avoided looking at the girl's face. How'd she get so... "Where's Vash, I need to see him."
"Not yet, the doctor is looking him over," Marissa said, she had a firm hold on Knives' arm as he tried to stand. She wasn't very strong, and under normal circumstances he could have broken her in half with his own two hands. But he felt weak and couldn't bring himself to harm her, not with Vash still lying unconscious... "You must be starved," she continued after a moment once Knives relaxed again. "If you promise to stay here I'll get you something to eat."
He nodded and Marissa let go of his arm. "Okay, sit tight." She left the room and Knives sighed. I will not come to depend on these humans, but if I don't play along...
A few hours later, Knives sat at Vash's bedside. A tray of uneaten food sat next to the bedside, and Knives looked at it wearily. Vash hadn't woken up. Doctor Neiman's examination determined Vash to be starved, very dehydrated, and after the typhoon, he was amazed that either twin was still alive. Vash was hooked up to an IV, sleeping peacefully in bed. Knives never saw his brother so sickly before. He was skinny and frail, and it scared him. What would he do if he were to lose Vash? They'd been together for so long... No, plants can't die, he told himself. "They just can't," he reaffirmed it out loud, placing a hand on Vash's forehead. "You can't."
"Are you okay, Millions?" Marissa said, coming into the room as quietly. Knives turned to look at her. She changed out of her nursing uniform, and now wore jeans and a blouse. He turned away, disgusted. What intrigued her so much that she would come to look in after them? She owed them nothing.
"I'm fine."
"Well, my shift is over now," she said slowly, coming to stand beside the bed. "Dr. Neiman said he'd probably be out for another day at least. You should probably get some sleep, they'll bring in a cot for you shortly, I know you'll want to stay with him tonight." Marissa set a hand down on Vash's wrist, checking his pulse, and then when she was satisfied, she turned. Hesitated. Knives could feel the tension in the air and wished she'd just leave them alone. "I..."
Knives didn't look at her; he knew what she wanted to know. She wanted to know why he hadn't stayed, why they'd left her here in this town, why he hadn't changed... The questions hung in the air like smoke. He didn't look at her. Even after a full stomach, he still felt weak, more so now that his brother lay unconscious, unable to help him, knowing he couldn't take out his wrath on the only ones who could help him. He was a lion with a thorn in his paw, and this woman, she was the mouse who could remove it. There'd be no eating this mouse as long as they remained here. "What do you want?" He asked quietly, "I know there's something you want to ask me, so you'd better just spit it out and be done with it."
Marissa shifted in her spot, and Knives turned to look at her. She bit her lip; "I just thought that maybe you would like to go to desert with me. I just thought that... It would be something to get your mind off of Vash's condition." She waved a hand at the sleeping man, "He won't be going anywhere, and I won't keep you more than a half hour."
"I don't think..."
"Come on, you owe me," she said suddenly, throwing a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she mumbled through her fingers. "I... Please, just come with me and I won't ask you for anything else."
"Is that a promise?" She nodded. Knives stood. "Fine. I'll come with you. But no questions."
She smiled faintly, "No questions." Then she turned and started out of the door, "There's a very nice little diner just around the corner. They have the best pies... Apple is my favorite."
"Apple..." Knives thought about it for a moment. Vash always liked donuts. But he never acquired his own 'favorite' food. It was merely a way to survive, but apparently all humans must have had a favorite of some sort. He filed away the information before saying, "I've never had pie."
"Well then," Marissa said as they walked down the hallway. "It'll be my treat."
Vash opened his eyes and watched Knives disappear with Marissa. A smile spread across his lips. He turned on his side and propped his head up with a hand. Well, what do you know, Knives found a friend. Vash grinned to himself, and finally pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked down at the tray of food next to the bed. Hospital food, yuck. It was better than nothing however, and he set the tray over onto his lap and dug into the cold potatoes and the melted gelatin. Might not be very tasty, but it was food, and Vash savored every bite. "Ah!! I'm alive again!" He said it quietly, trying not to alert the hospital staff that he was actually awake.
When he finished the tray and set it to the side again, he lay back onto the pillow, staring at the stark white ceiling. It was kind of a cruel thing to do to Knives, he thought briefly. It's not as if he planned the typhoon, but it worked to his advantage. No more walking, and even though it hurt like the dickens when Knives dropped him during the walk, he managed to stay 'unconscious'. He wondered for years what Knives would do if something happened to him. Would he be able to go on or would he be just as miserable as Vash knew he'd be alone? Apparently Knives cared about him, enough to go to the humans for help, enough to actually be peaceful with them long enough for his brother to get better.
Knives did the same thing before so the plan worked out nicely. Took him months to wait for Knives to weaken, knowing he would need to come back to town eventually. He smiled to himself, I'm a genius.
"What... What are you doing awake? How?" Dr. Neiman stood in the doorway, his mouth dropped open. The bandages and ointment he carried dropped to the floor as he stared. Uh oh, Vash thought, busted.
He looked around, playing innocent, "Oh, I uh... I smelled the food and..." he nodded to the empty tray. "I'm mighty sleepy now though..." He closed his eyes, hoping that the old man would go away. If he got too excited, someone would probably run out to get Knives, and Vash couldn't have that at all. He acted asleep again, hoping that the doctor would fall for it, but doubting that he would, and sure enough Neiman was at his eyelids with a little penlight.
"How are you feeling? Do you know where you are? Remember who you are? I'm Dr. Neiman and I've been taking care of you... Maybe I should get your brother..." He rambled on before turning, and Vash reached out an arm and grabbed the back of his lab coat.
"No..." The old doctor closed his mouth. Vash continued, "Don't tell him. He needs to spend some time with Marissa," he said slowly, trying to figure out whether he should tell the doctor his plan or make something up. Rem always told him to tell the truth, so he continued, "We dropped her off in this town quite a few years ago, and I wanted him to see her again."
Dr. Neiman turned and Vash let go of his coat. "I thought you were familiar," he said slowly. "Six years ago you dropped her off at my doorstep. Both of you." He looked over his bifocals at Vash. "You haven't aged. What are you?"
"It doesn't matter." The doctor's brows furrowed, but Vash continued. "I'm glad that you've taken care of her, she's really grown up."
"She's smart," the doctor said slowly. "At first I wasn't sure how smart she was, but within a year she was helping me here in the hospital. Within two she could do a difficult operation on her own. I didn't believe it, but I wasn't going to ignore it. Is she like you?"
Vash shook his head, "No. She came from the SEEDS ship that is out in the middle of sandworm territory. It was the lead ship. I'm told only the smartest people were aboard." He looked at the doctor's surprised expression.
"Marissa was an Earthling?"
A smile spread over Vash's lips, what an odd expression this man used. "You were one too, if I'm not wrong about your age..." The doctor nodded.
"Yes, I was about ten when the ships crashed. I knew about the lead ship. How is it that she's alive? All of this time, she must have been in cryo-sleep."
This conversation was getting interesting Vash realized. It was nice to be around humans again. They were so unpredictable. This doctor in particular remembered the crash, and it didn't make Vash feel quite so old anymore, or quite so alone. Here was someone who knew what it was like to be on Earth! The same planet where Rem grew up, where Rem lost her husband... A place that a few still hoped existed, somewhere out there, light-years away. He wondered idly if he'd ever be able to see it, especially if he were as immortal as Knives always predicted they would be. "She was," he answered after a moment. "We were lost in the desert, found the ship and managed to wake her. The others..." he trailed off, should he tell Neiman about the rest? "There was no one else."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Neiman said. "It's just lucky that you were able to bring her here. I don't know what I would have done without her. I love her like my own daughter."
"That's how it should be," Vash said after a moment. "Unfortunately, if you remember, we couldn't take care of her. We've been looking for our family for a long time."
"Did you find them?"
Vash nodded slowly, "In a matter of speaking, yes."
"Then let's celebrate," Dr. Neiman stood. He smiled down at Vash and a mischievous look crossed his face. "I have a bottle of brandy in my office."
Without Knives around to complain... "I'd like that!" Vash grinned.
"Good, let me go get my secret stash," the doctor winked and disappeared. Vash watched after him. This plan went over much better than even he'd first expected. It was going to be a nice night... As long as nothing goes wrong, he thought. Knock on wood.