CHAPTER ONE:  THE WANDERERS (cont2)

He locked the knob and slid the chain into place.  Through the door they could hear Knives yelling, cursing at the top of his lungs.  With a thud, the bolt slid in.

"Maybe you should give him something to occupy his mind, so he won't yell all day," she suggested.

"Yeah," Vash agreed, "I gave him some books, but he would only read this one - The Bible; and he'd misinterpret everything he read, really awful.  So I took them away from him."

"We should go find him some other titles then.  Like philosophy books or novels or something."

Vash nodded.

Vanessa went to wash the dishes, but Vash insisted he see to her hand first.  "I'll do it myself," she mumbled.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he replied, "But you didn't take that for an answer either."  He pulled out a chair for her next to the dinner table.

With more bandages and a fresh washcloth, Vash asked her to roll up her sleeve.  "Oh, you think so..." Vanessa said, holding her good hand to her face, and running her fingers nervously through her hair. 

So Vash took her sleeve and slid it past her elbow himself, thinking she hadn't heard.  Vanessa moved to stop him, and tried to tug the sleeve back down.

Vash grabbed her hand, asking, "Geez, what's the matter?  I can't clean it with your sleeve over it, just let me..."

Vanessa pushed the sleeve back up, held her arm by the elbow, and looked to the floor.  Taking her sore hand, Vash placed it gently on a cloth on the table.  With her arm stretched out, Vanessa bit her lip.

"...Who...who did this to you?" Vash asked firmly, staring wide-eyed at the scars covering her exposed forearm.  These scars were so numerous, and although small, they varied in shape.  At a glance, they seemed evidence of past thin cuts, stabbing wounds, short scratches, cigarette burns...and most could hardly be detected, they were so old.

"Oh, those?" Vanessa answered cheerily.  "I'm such a klutz sometimes," she lied.

Vash met her eyes.  "I know enough about scars, you know?  Just tell me the truth; whoever did this shouldn't go free, Vanessa."

Vanessa stared down at his fingers on her hand.  "People can be cruel," she replied calmly.  "And sometimes, when they're full of righteousness and anger, they're not very nice at all."

Vash frowned, trying not to cry.  He'd promised himself to keep from bawling in front of girls anymore.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Vanessa interrupted.

"Why does Knives want to go to a plant?" she asked.  "What good would a plant do him?" 

"Oh, he's just talking crazy I guess," Vash lied.

Vanessa paused, and spoke again with more urgency.  "After a month, he can't move?  Did you paralyze him!?"

Vash's eyebrow went up in surprise.  "Good Lord, no.  But just as he was showing signs of improvement, the infection set in.  Every time he moved even slightly he'd scream in pain, so he'd just stayed still." Vash looked to the floor, embarrassed in spite of himself.  "It's awful that his wounds got infected, but if he were able to move about freely now, I really would fear for people's lives."

Vanessa gave him a disbelieving look.  Did he actually want his brother to remain bedridden forever?  How dangerous could he be?

"A month in that room, alone," she reflected in a hushed voice.  "It's enough to make a man insane..."

Vash frowned, and ignored the comment.

"It's dangerous at those things, the plants, isn't it?  You think he's talking about suicide?" she whispered, concerned.

Vash was taken aback.  "No, of course not!  Knives...well, he just wouldn't do that," he asserted.

"Well," Vanessa wondered aloud, "what good would a plant do for Knives?"

Vash cleared his throat and smiled.  "Crazy talk, I'm sure!" he replied, then caught himself in a poor use of terms, and lost the grin.  He washed and bandaged her hand, ignoring the scars. 

As he finished, she quickly pulled the sleeve back down, reminded of her own body, her face red with embarrassment.  How could I be so careless? she thought, scolding herself for her sloppiness.  She hoped he hadn't begun to suspect her already.

They get to the market later, and buy some groceries and books.  After Millie and Meryl get home from work, Vanessa prepares dinner.  Meryl asks what happened to Vanessa's hand, and he claims she'd burned herself making lunch.  Vash says nothing in reply to this, knowing that Millie and Meryl are both afraid of Knives and would only yell at Vash for letting Vanessa in the room with him. 

They fear Knives ever since Vash carried him home, and they attempted to settle him into bed.  When Knives had begun to wake at first, he started to angel arm, letting the knives form on his arm, but passed out before anyone was hurt.  Soon after, a distressed Meryl said she would never go near him again, and neither should Millie.  Millie had nodded in agreement.  So Vash had tended to Knives' wounds by himself, and tried to feed him in vain.

After dinner, Vash carried the dishes to the sink.  As he washed, he saw Vanessa pull a tray of extra food from the stove.

"It's for Knives," Vanessa explained.  "He's hungry, too, I'm sure."

Vash looked around to make certain the girls were out of earshot.

"Come with me if you're concerned," she offered, walking out of the kitchen. 

Vash wiped the suds from his hands onto his jeans and walked after her.  He glanced at the girls, watching him.  Meryl narrowed her eyes in disapproval.

"Mr. Vash," Millie asked, "Are you sure it's okay to take her up there?"

"Vanessa!  Let him take care of it!" Meryl ordered.

Vanessa stopped, confused, and looked to Vash for an answer.  He shrugged.  "He's behaving himself better than usual, and he'll only eat the stuff Vanessa makes," he explained.

Vanessa his her confusion at that comment.

Meryl stood, fists at her sides.  "You took her up there!?" she asked through gritted teeth.  "How could you be so irresponsible!?"

"You got him to eat?" Millie asked Vanessa, hushed.

Vash held up his palms in defense.  "But, if he doesn't eat, he won't heal!" he replied.  "I can't just let him die!"

"Maybe you should," Meryl asserted, in a low tone.

"I can't do that!" Vash exclaimed.  "I have to...He's my brother and he's got a second chance.  Everyone deserves a..."

"He's the most dangerous criminal ever," Meryl interrupted, speaking urgently to Vanessa.  "He has no sense of reality!  He wants to kill everyone!  He's insane!"

"I know he wants to kill us," Vanessa argued, "But I'm quite sure he's not insane.  He thinks he's justified for a reason.  We need to understand his reasoning and we may be able to reach him."

"How the hell do you..." Meryl asked.  "How does she think she knows that!?  Vanessa, you're wrong!"

"Actually, she's right," Vash claimed.  "You don't have to help," he said to Vanessa, placing his hand on her shoulder. Vanessa nodded, and again walked to the stairs.

Meryl sat, steaming, as she heard the sounds of locks moving and the door shutting behind them.  "The nerve!" she declared.

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