CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (continued2)

Vanessa awoke groggy, feeling immediately dizzy at the attempts she made to lift her head and arms. As her memory flooded forth, her breath quickened and became louder and more frantic, until Vash rushed to her side.

He lay a cold cloth across her forehead. "Calm down! It's okay!" he assured. "You didn't fire it! Everyone's safe!"

She began to relax, but stared at him with desperation. "It…it hurt so bad…"

Vash frowned. "I know. I'm sorry he…I'm sorry. He's sorry too, believe it or not."

"How long have I…"

"A few days," he replied. "Don't you remember? We woke you up several times. To give you something to drink."

"Yeah," she responded faintly. "I think I do…Sugar water…and behind me, propping me up…That…he…you let him?!?"

Vash took her hand in his and spoke seriously. "You know where he is right now? Out doing the laundry. He's not the same."

Vanessa shot him a weird glance.

Vash cleared his throat and explained of how Knives had so carefully aided him in caring for her, and had confided his feelings aloud to him. "It's like back on the ship…He's kind of acting like my brother again, instead of my enemy. He's seen the wrong of his ways all drawn together in what he did to you. But he's afraid you're going to hate him now…"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared into the ceiling.

"Some days, he stayed awake all night," Vash continued, his soft voice cracking slightly. "You were so cold that he'd hold you, taking your pulse all the time…" He ignored the tears rolling down his cheeks. "If he'd known how, he would've given you a transfusion of his own blood; he couldn't find that in your books…"

"So…is he cured?" she asked hopefully.

Vash paused. "I can't say. He hasn't talked about humans at all, not like usually. But I've seen emotions he hasn't used since we were kids…he's not selfish and mean and angry anymore. It's so strange. And it's hard for him, but he's handling the guilt awfully well."

"You don't feel sorry for him, do you?" Vanessa asked soberly.

"Well…I can't help it," Vash replied sadly.

"Whatever happened to 'letting people realize their guilt alone?'" she challenged angrily.

"But I am!" he maintained. "Don't think I…"

"Leave me alone!" Vanessa interrupted.

Knives made his entrance, hesitating at the sound of Vanessa's voice, then rushing to her. "You're okay!" he whispered in a reserved tone, quite unlike himself. He dropped his basket to the cave floor and knelt beside her, lip puckered in relief. He folded his hands uncomfortably onto his knees and waited for her response.

Vanessa attempted to regain her composure, but finally fell back into tears. She sobbed heavily, turning away from him, but wholly unable to hide her anguish.

"C'mon," Vash muttered, pulling his brother onto his feet. He ushered him towards the cave mouth. "Give her a second, okay?"

"What did I do?" Knives asked in surprise.

Once outside, they sat in the sand on the other side of the rock formation.

"She's having a hard time with it," Vash explained. "It was painful, you know."

"But you told her I'm sorry, right?" Knives countered, flustered.

Vash nodded. "That's not gonna fix it, Knives. If you want her to like you, you're gonna have to build up trust. That's not going to be easy; you've made quite a reputation."

Knives pounded his fist into the sand but retained his calm tone. "I said I was sorry. Now what, do I have to get all weepy like you in order to get my point across? What does she want from me?"

Vash sighed. "You're going about this all wrong! You can't just pretend you don't want to kill everybody just to make her happy."

"You judge me so harshly," Knives replied, resting his head back against the warm stone. "You don't understand me."

Vash folded his legs beneath him and faced his brother. "So, what, do you love the human race now? Or will you say you do, and kill them off the second we let our guards down?"

"I don't care about them anymore." Knives chuckled. "It's funny…I guess I found something more important."

"There's nothing funny about it!" Vash hissed. "Why do you have to take everything so lightly!? We can't forget how you've treated us!" He ran his hands roughly through his spiky hair. "If you care about us, you have to ask for forgiveness. From everybody. And you have to mean it."

Knives rested his hand on Vash's shoulder and smiled. "Forgive me Vash."

Vash rolled his eyes. "For what, Knives? What did you do to me that you know was wrong? Tell me why it's wrong and convince me that you're sincere!"

Knives' hand fell from Vash's shoulder and both became quiet, listening to the rustle of the sand and wind as their minds roared within.

Staring with vision fuzzy from drying tears, Vanessa sat limp on her disheveled bedclothes. The dead tracks of the tears felt cold and tight, an invisible map of anxiety and misery. Time began to return to her mind, the slight chill in the air the only hint of nightfall. Drawing the sheets from her naked legs, her scarred flesh brought memories for which tears couldn't come anymore. Each told a tale of a hateful encounter.

At her feet lay the basket of newly cleaned clothing. Atop the pile was her purple dress, folded painstakingly. Touching the cloth, she envisioned the warmth of his fingers on the material, the last person to hold it.

She shut her eyes tight and drew her shivering limbs together. Burned into her eyelids were his innocent blue eyes. He was so full of child-like wonder and yet so suppressed.

And as the one person with the greatest power over his mind to date, she realized her responsibility with dread.

Vash peeked around the corner of the stone corridor. He noticed that Vanessa had dressed in her usual attire and was bent over a tray of fish, working slowly with her knife to prepare a meal.

He stepped into the room, hands in his pockets. "Feeling better?" he asked softly.

She nodded, pausing before lifting her head and smiling awkwardly. Never did her eyes meet his.

Grabbing two thick coats, he left the cave and returned moments later. "It's been a while; 'getting cold out there," he muttered. Keeping a gentle grin, he pulled his coat closer about him to hide his shivers.

Without a reply, Vanessa continued her calculated carving, the blade diving delicately into the fish's flesh with a surgical accuracy. She stopped for a moment, resting her left hand palm side up on the chopping block, beside the filet. The pale blue veins of her wrist pulsated in her mind. The knife in her other hand began to quiver as her grip tightened.

"The…the sunset was beautiful tonight," Vash said loudly. "You should watch it with me tomorrow. Okay?" His posture gained a tension appropriate for a spontaneous launch into action. Vash was prepared to dive at that knife, should the need arise.

But in this apprehensive silence, her grip loosened and the blade fell. It stuck into the wood and remained at a strange angle.

Vanessa shook her head slightly and lifted her gaze to him. Eyes shut tight, she smiled widely. Her cheeks twitched and her skin seemed a sick, pale hue. "Hungry?" she asked in a thick, sugary tone.

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