Sorry for the long rant that was once here. I decided to delete it due to the fact that it was huge and was a big ugly black smear in the middle of my story. Now that I am certain that Ms. Critic no longer has an interest in bothering me, I will continue with my story!
But first:
Fallen Angel Mitsu: Heheh, you fill me with joy. Thanks for sticking through my awful ranting and stuff. Keep up the good work on your story! It's a good read!
sailormoon613: Aw, thanks! Yeah, I'm sorry about the whole spell-it-right thing. I wasn't trying to harp on people who can't spell or use grammar correctly. I do it too (like the review I put in, I said "right" instead of "write." That's a nightmare for me. I don't know why, I just bash my head in when I switch the two...) It happens to everyone, and the way to get better is to keep on writing! (yes, got it right!) I just cannot take a person seriously when he (or she, for those politically correct persons out there) criticizes me as a person and what I enjoy when in a blind and unjust anger constricts their spelling and grammar. It actually makes me laugh, having someone trying to top me when in all actuality creating a fool of themselves. Heheh, I better stop before I create another 3 or 4 paragraphs of ranting...thanks for the review!
AN: Here is where Vash and Knives use their telepathy with each other. From now on, I will mark all telepathic conversations as such/Blah blah blah, yadda yadda./
Knives was crying...
Vashwas dumbfounded at the sight of his brother who sat in his bed, arms wrapped around his muscular torso. Knives looked almost...childish. Though he had seen him cry before, Vash had never seen his brother in this state before. Vash had not even known it was possible for his brother to even be in this state before, and frankly, he was not sure how to handle the situation. Slowly, Vash stood up and headed over to his brother's bed. Knives looked up at him with his tear-stained eyes, not even bothering to hide his weakness. Vash gently sat down on the end of the bed and opened his mind.
/What can I do to help you, Knives/
Knives shot a look at Vash. He knew that his brother was a plant, a superior being like him, but the fact that he could still use his power to speak to him telepathically still astounded him. Even during their last battle, Knives was still surprised. But, of course, there were more pressing matters at the moment, and Knives did not have time to think about that then.
/You can go to hell, dear brother. That's what you can do for me./
Vash bowed his head and looked at his hands. /Why do you cry, Knives/
/Why the hell do you think I cry, Vash? You know the answer! It is because I have a brother like you. It is because I lost you to those worthless spiders. It is because you have CRIPPLED ME FOR LIFE! But of course you knew that. You knew that, but you still ask. Why would ask me that if you already knew the answer/ Knives shot back angrily.
Vash's eyes locked with Knives's. /Knives, there is another reason why you are crying now. I asked because you must admit it to yourself./
/What are you talking about/ Knives spat mentally.
/It is because you are afraid. You cry because you are a-/
"That is a lie!" Knives hissed audibly. Milly stirred in her bed and turned. The two waited until her even breathing once again drifted from her lying form. Knives glared at his brother before turning his head defiantly. /I do not fear anything. Why should I when I am an obviously superior creature on this horrible planet/
/...You don't even fear your own weakness/
Knives tensed.
/Knives, you can't possibly hide it from me. I know that you are afraid. You are afraid of your own weakness, and I can tell because I have been around humans enough to-/
/Do NOT compare my feelings to those-/
/-Enough to know when someone is hiding an emotion. Fear is...well, it's a bit like love. It is hard to admit that you are in love with someone because you don't want to feel the rejection if that person does not love you back. But once you admit it, the world seems to be an infinitely better place to live in. I know that if you could just admit that you are afraid, you would feel much better and we could get through this together./
/Absolutely not. I refuse./
/I am just trying to help you, Knives. As your brother./
/Brothers do not try to permanently harm their brothers./
/I did not know it would come to this./
/THEN WHY DID YOU SHOOT ME/
/...Why did you shoot me/
Knives faltered. He was stuck. He was so set in his mind that his brother was the villain. But now he wasn't so sure. Knives was about to tell Vash that he started it first, that he pointed the gun at him first during their last battle. He wanted toyell atVash that is washim whoshot him first all those years ago when he handed Vash his gun. He wanted to shake Vash for shooting him with his angel arm...but...
/Knives, please, get some rest. It's too late for this. We can talk later if you want./
/Yes, that is what I want. I do not wish to continue this tonight./
/Okay. Get some sleep, brother. Good night./
Knives did not answer. He turned his back to his brother who crawled onto the mattress beside his bed. Tears continued to flow down his face and landed on his pillow. All these years, Knives thought that his brother was the one who needed to be guided, the one who would not see the light. Vash was the bad apple in the family, albeit a small family for just the two of them. Was he wrong? COULD he be wrong? When did it all start to go wrong?
Steve. It was when Steve...Knives could not even bear to bring back that painful memory. That horrible man. If a human being could go that bad, then there was a chance they all could. So that made them all dangerous, filthy, and untrustworthy...right? There was no way such superior beings, such as themselves, could be as despicable as those horrid humans, not a chance. Therefore there was one option: to destroy them all, including the one he knew as his "mother." She had the same risk of becoming evil, just as all humans did, so he saved her from an awful fate. And even if she had lived and had not turned evil, she would not have to put up with the ways of her people around her. So he let her die.
But then Vash retaliated. Oh, the sadness that filled his heart when his own brother, his own flesh and blood rejected the notion of destroying the evil that was to fill the world they landed on. The planet named Gunsmoke could have become Eden instead. When the two of them went their separate ways, he began to forget some of his memories of Rem. If Vash would have stayed, they would not have gone quite as easily, but then againhe made an effort to forget. She was no longer there and did not have a say in what he could or could not do. But of course, Vash had to remember.Vash had to live by her creed. That just pissed him off. So to try and change Vash's mindset he sent his minions, his disposable servants, to try and teach him that humans can, indeed, become evil, bloodthirsty, and selfish to the core. But what he could not understand was why his dear brother did not sway from his beliefs, and not only that, but Vash would mar his body in the process. Vash was one arm and what seemed to be at least half of his skin short.
But wait, he lost his arm because of...oh, my...
Knives suddenly felt sick. It was me. I was the one who did the largest amount of damage on his body. The scars amount to nothing compared to that... Knives had never thought of it that way before. He had handled the situation in the completely wrong way. He himself had resorted to violence, just like those filthy spiders. I must have spent too much time with them...that must be the reason. That HAS to be the reason. I must make it up to him, someway...somehow. I may be crippled, but it must be some sort of sign that I have gone about the situation the wrong way. But I willnot worry about those filthy spiders now. I must make amends, and I must do it soon.
Knives rolled over and looked at his brother's sleeping figure. He could see his brother's scarred hand lying on his strong chest. Knives watched as it rose and fell with his brother's deep breathing. The scars on his hand were deep, but now Knives realized that the emotional scars that he created had run much, much deeper than he could ever have had imagined before...
