Fridge
by Sailor Lilith-chan
He had been trying to cajole Vash out of the refrigerator box for hours.
"Come on and get out of there, Vashu."
Knives considered himself quite mature for one who was nearly thirteen months old. He had kept his younger brother eating even when Vash decided to try and starve himself to death. All he had to do was tell Vash that what he was doing was suicide and he had stopped.
"No, no, no," a small voice whined from behind a cardboard wall, "Can't make me, can't make me…"
But, really, Vash could try his patience in ways that he never dreamed of. Perhaps on some level Vash hoped to irate Knives to a level to where he would kill his own twin. Knives doubted it and shook his head as he stared the box lying on its side besides their makeshift home where a tossed fragment of a ship had wrapped around a shallow cave. It was a Maytag (Knives didn't care) and had the words 'this side up' printed on it (humorously, the arrow pointed down). Now in marker the words 'Vash's house, murderous older twin brother stay out, this means YOU, Knives!' had been written on the box. Bold, angry strokes of marker illustrated how angry Vash had been when he scribbled them done on the surface.
ooo
"We'll be living here," Knives said pointing to the ship, "This will be our new home, my darling dearest brother."
Vash, messing with the red sleeves of his flight suit, peered at the ship. The hair gel he had used to gum up his hair in that ridiculous spiky mess Rem insisted on had failed sometime before noon. He was sweaty and looked tired. Or maybe the light from the suns hurt his eyes for they were squinted, long lashes nearly brushing each other. "It's a ship."
Knives felt himself swell with pride. Hadn't he promised Vash that their days of sleeping under the starts and being bitten by insects were numbered? Hadn't he promised Vash a warm bed and food that was easier to get. After all, pretending to be human pre-teens (what a stupid word) and waiting in THEIR lines to get a tiny ration pack was straining. And Vash predictably whined at the lack of donuts. This place had nearly intact quarters for a captain of some sort. "Didn't I say I would pull through?"
His brother licked at his dry lips, the only sign of his over-exposure to the suns. Oddly, his skin remained pale and untouched. "You did," he said, "But I don't sense another Plant Angel here."
"It is only a fragment here," the young plant explained as they hiked toward the wreckage, small packs in hand, "But if you would like, I could have a plant rolled over here."
Vash actually smiled, seeming to forget that this was the murder of Rem and the crew, rather seeing him as a beloved brother once more. "But wouldn't that make our sister or brother dizzy?"
Knives played along, knowing how impossible it was to get one of their siblings out of humanity's spider-like grasp. "Perhaps," he said, "But we shall tell them to close their eyes and that will make it better."
"I hope so," Vash said and blinked slowly.
ooo
"So this will be your home?" Knives asked, walking around the box. "What happens when you get bigger. We plants have been known to get as tall as twelve feet."
A small flap, one of many cut into the box with a pocket knife to act as windows, pulled back to reveal two angry green eyes, the bridge of an aquiline nose, and a beauty mark under the left eye. "I'll adapt."
The flap fell back down and he could hear Vash grumbling to himself.
"Is that so?" he asked coyly, a few minutes later.
"I'm a freeborn," Vash snapped, "That's a hybrid Plant… right?"
Knives gritted his teeth together. "A hybrid?" he snapped angrily, "A hybrid? Is that what you think of yourself? Polluted blood?"
Nothing was said from the refrigerator box. The suns beat down on him and the box. Knives continued to pace around the box.
"You know that they did test to discover that we are one hundred percent plant angel. Even That Woman agreed…"
"Rem." The name came out as a choked sob, "You big meanie." Was that all Vash could come up with? "Her name was Rem and you know it."
I know it and I don't care, Knives thought. He vocalized that thought at once. "I know that her name is Rem Saverem," he leaned in closer to the box, "And I don't care. Did you know this, Vashu?"
No answer.
"I know you can hear me," he told the sulking plant inside the box, "I know you can hear me well," he stroked the box slowly like he would a lover, "And I know you can hear me well. So listen. We are going to go into that ship and we will like it. Because it is the only home we have, just like you and I are the only true family we have."
Vash sniffled a little bit. Knives leaned back on his heels expecting Vash to come out of the box. "Go… go… to hell…" Vash sniffed, "I'll just stay in here."
Knives both wondered and hoped if the interior of the refrigerator box was an oven. "Fine," he snapped out of irritation, "Stay in there for as long as you want. See if I care!" The problem was he did care. Vash didn't know that. "But let's see what happens when you need to eat and drink." He dropped his voice a little with his next words, "Let's see what happens when you wanna potty."
ooo
There was auxiliary power on courtesy of some solar adapters on the side of the mangled ship section. Knives pointed them out to Vash as they approached, growing happier by the minute. His twin had said nothing, but he knew that Vash was thinking the same thing. As soon as they got there, Knives began keying in the code to the pad near the door. Vash sat down and watched him, brow furrowed in concentration. "Well?" he ventured to ask Vash.
"Well, what?" Vash asked in return.
He repeated his question, this time elaborating, "Well, what do you think?"
Vash got to his feet, brushing the sand off the rump of his suit with both hands. "It's ok-ay, I guess," he said, not seeming interested in the least, "It's kinda busted up."
"So hang up curtains," Knives said coolly as the door slowly creaked open to reveal the silent interior.
His twin peered in the opening appraising the tiny combo living room and kitchenette. He then bent down and pulled off his gloves, rubbing both hands over the shag carpet. The gloves were pulled back on as he evidently decided to wander around the room. Knives found himself watching as Vash wandered around the small room, opening and closing cabinets as he went. The first few cabinets yielded foil wrapped ration packs. Vash immediately grabbed a juice pack and happily started slurping away. Juice packet in hand, he padded around the room once more.
Slurp, slurp came the sounds from Vash's vicinity, as he uncovered five tanks of drinking water and cleaning supplies. Knives settled down on the small couch, observing his brother's movements. For the first time in month, Vash wasn't treating him as if he had an incurable plague. Of course, he wasn't paying attention to him either, it would take time of course, but what was time to an immortal?
There were small tapestries and photos on the walls, perhaps memoirs of the previous occupant. "Do you want any of them? You can have a couple if you want."
Vash immediately dropped the juice packet and turned to face Knives. "Really?" he asked as the juice slowly dripped out of the straw. Knives rescued the packet and took up drinking it. "Knives… I… thank you." Vash was obviously flustered.
He sipped at the packet. "Of course," he said as Vash paced the room looking for goodies to keep. It was harmless and quite childish of his twin, so he let him continue for the sheer sweetness of it.
ooo
Knives idly wondered how hot the inside of the box would grow when the suns were at the apex of their orbit. He watched as the sands partially buried one side in the sand. The sniffling continued, reaching him from his perch on the front steps leading to the ship. It was all Rem's fault for instilling his twin with such, such… Knives gritted his teeth, trying to find a word to describe his frustration with what Rem had done to his sibling. For making him so emotional. Knives looked at the sandstorm on the horizon and scowled. Great, just wonderful. He got to his feet and stormed over to refrigerator box. "Vashu!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Lemme 'lone," Vash snapped from the refrigerator box, "You're a meanie and I hate you and wish you would go to hell."
Knives knocked on the side of the box. "There's a sandstorm coming."
Vash poked his head out of the end of the box. "I think you are a big liar."
He snapped his head over to see the wall of sand approaching quickly. Of all times, why did Vash have to be so hard-headed? Did he think that Knives was kidding him? Didn't he realize that everything that he did, he did out of sheer love for his sibling? The wind picked and he resumed pacing around the box. "You stubborn, stubborn fool of a plantling," he whispered over the rising gale, "You'd rather die than admit I'm right."
He walked over to the ship and keyed the door shut. By now, grains of sand from the approaching sandstorm were whipping about in the air and stinging the insides of his nose and ears. Knives knew what he was going to do and regretted nothing. The refrigerator box laid there, golden brown under the suns.
"Oh Vashu," he said as he approached the box, "If only you knew how wrong you were."
ooo
Knives checked out the bedroom with the large bed and warm looking sheets. Afterward, he inspected the tiny bathroom with the toilet and sink. Apparently the entire compartment acted as a shower. "Amazing," he breathed, being used to only a bathtub shared with his twin.
He exited the room, noticing the pictures finally and who was in them. Captain Joseph Cruz of all people… and that woman was in the picture. Fuming, Knives ripped the photo from its holder and stared at it for a few minutes. She had everything; she had the world. Why did she have to deny the tiniest bit of heaven that his twin brother provided.
He simply couldn't stand the sight of her eternally smiling face. Though, if you held the photo at precisely the right angle and let the light hit the surface just right, Rem looked like she was smirking. Satisfied with finding that right angle he shredded the photograph to confetti in seconds. Reminding himself to remove all traces of all personality saved photos; he popped the pieces of photo into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Rubbing his belly in satisfaction, he entered the room.
The mass of photos seemed to catch in his chest as he entered the room and saw Vash piled photos in three separate piles. He was trying erased Rem from both of their lives and here Vash was practically making a shrine for her. He snarled and stormed up to Vash. "Vashu!"
Vash looked up, a faint blush on across both cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "Knives," he breathed, patting the spot beside him, "Help me arrange these photos."
He saw red. Knives barely registered the protests of his brother, as he shot forward and started shredding the photo and stuffing them in his mouth. He could barely feel his brother's short nails through Vash's gloves and his suit. He faintly heard Vash crying faintly and repeating the word no again and again and again.
He had to destroy every bit of that woman from their lives. He had to make sure that Vash understood that Rem Saverem could not pollute their lives any longer. He ripped off Rem off a picture of her standing with them under an apple tree. Triumphantly, Knives dangled it in front of his mouth so Vash could see as he devoured it bite by bite.
They would not be devoured by the humans. Instead they would be the predators. He now heard the sound of Vash's begging, begging him not to eat another bite. Knives smirked slowly.
The slap across his face was sharp and unexpected. That snapped him out of it. Knives stared at Vash. His face was now red and livid, eyes brimming with tears. "Just stop it Knives," he said slowly, "You won. You got what you wanted. Now let me have what I want." In his hand, he gripped the last photo of Rem Saverem.
"I have," Knives said coolly, "I have. Vashu, you greedy little brat. I have given you the world on a platter."
"No you haven't," Vash snarled, photo falling to the ground, "You didn't even give me the decency of having a body to bury."
Knives back away slowly. He knew what to say and he knew it would rile Vash up. "It was that bitch's fault for trying to save them all…"
Vash's fist connected with his belly a few second later. Waves of nausea rolled over to him. Blindly, he ran to the nearest trashcan and vomited up the pictures he had eaten and the rations he had eaten that morning. He clung to the container as his belly gave another spasm. Oh, he felt so sick.
ooo
Eventually, he found the strength to go looking for Vash. And that led him to the refrigerator box, which led him to Vash.
Knives opened the flaps of the box and climbed in. Strangely it was cool and he took note of the air condition unit on the floor. There were rations and a water tank in there as well, several lanterns suspended from the cardboard ceiling. He felt blankets on the floor and searched for Vash. He found Vash curled up into a small ball in the farthest corner. Snuggling close he heard Vash say, "Go away."
The sandstorm rolled over the box. "Oh," Knives said, slyly, "I see, I'll leave."
Outside the winds howled ominously. Knives doubted he could make it to the ship without being blown away. He knew he wouldn't even make it out of the box. He began to crawl away. Vash cried in out in fear and grabbed Knives' wrist. In the dim light of the lamps, his eyes were wide and frightened. "Please stay."
He wondered if fear was enough to make Vash love him. If the very thought of being alone in the world was enough to return Vash to him. And if that was the case he had a very powerful weapon in his hands. "All right," he told Vash, "If that is what you wish."
ooo
"It's still here after all these years," Vash gasped out in pain, grabbing the cardboard box with his fingers. It made a crumpling noise and threatened to give way. Still in his pain-addled state, it was a shelter.
The blankets and food storage was gone, still a shelter. Vash leaned against the walls and closed his eyes. This was no shelter and Knives…
He growled in frustration and finally left the refrigerator box ten minutes later. There were no air conditioners and it was high noon, but for some reason he felt ice cold.
The End