When Knives awoke, Vanessa was outside. Seated with her back against a pitched tent, she stared at the complex with tired eyes. She was wearing a spare shirt and cloak, pulled close. Her head-cloth was wound about her; he could only see her eyes, and she was watching him like a hawk.

Neither had slept a wink. They warily eyed each other as Knives placed his backpack beside the supplies in the cart. He stood in the sand, staring down at her. "I won't allow this," he stated plainly, crossing his arms.

She glared up, and pulled the cloth open at her mouth. "You're not killing him."

"Vanessa, I admire your resolve, really," he attempted, adjusting his folded arms. "But I will never allow a human near my home. I intend to kill him."

"I know. And-" She paused. "Did you say 'your home?'"

"Yes. It's my home, and it's your home. I will not suffer humans where I live, no matter where that is or who disagrees."

"Cute, Knives. In that case, I'm staying here, where it's going to be a hell of a lot harder to fix him up, and we'll run out of food and water, and you can have your home all to your damn self! AGAIN!"

Knives held his hands out in a calming gesture. "Vanessa, you don't know what you're saying. Humans should've all left ages ago, and they're supposed to be gone now. This one's a mistake I aim to correct."

"No good can come of his death, and you have no right to decide-"

"…Who will live and who will die? Please, you sound like…" He stopped, feeling queasy. "It's a flawed philosophy and yes, noble, but this is self-defense."

"Preventative murder is still murder, it's not self-defense, he doesn't know where we live, he was iles from the plants, obviously making no attempt to come near them at all, he's unarmed, he's defenseless, he's injured badly, and I'll be the first to beat the living crap out of him should self-defense come up again, but no one is killing a human in cold blood! Not under my watch! So you can get to the reins and take us home, or you can get to the reins and take yourself home. I don't care."

Dropping to his knees before her, Knives gritted his teeth as a migraine swept through his brow. "You intend to stay here? With him?"

"Absolutely. I'm sure I can make do with what's left in the medical bay here. I figure after a couple of weeks of healing, he'll be good to go. I keep him tied up, blindfolded, like he is now, then I dump him back where I find him and hope to God to never lay sight on him again. So you just get the hell out of here, and don't come back."

Leaning forward on his hand, Knives' face came an inch from hers. His free arm darted forward and jerked the tent flap open.

Vanessa grabbed his wrist, squeezing it threateningly. She raised her free hand in a fist.

Inside the tent, he saw the human, shivering in pain, with splinted arm and leg. Strips of what was Vanessa's shirt were wrapped about his head and were tied to various scratch wounds on his limbs.

With a shudder of disgust and a touch of awe, Knives glanced to her, to the human, and back to her. "You did that?" It was difficult to imagine Vanessa beating a man senseless, or anyone for that matter. She certainly couldn't do all that before, when she hardly took a swing to him at all, in even the most desperate circumstances.

Vanessa twisted his wrist until he dropped the tent flap, and eyed him defensively. "Seeing a human took me by surprise. I got scared, and I overreacted."

Overreacted? How could simple fright lead to such a beating? If she would risk her own health to save the human from Knives, why would she harm him so in the first place? What had he done to deserve that (besides being born, Knives murmured)?

Knives' insides went numb. "Show me your injuries," he half-asked, half-commanded.

"Don't have any."

Knives knew that was a lie. She couldn't have done that to the man and be totally unscathed herself. Besides, the wind was low; she would not normally wear her head-wrap in mild conditions. Obviously she was hiding injuries. He took a calming breath and thought.

Leaning back on his heels, Knives' hands went to his temple, where he attempted to massage away the pounding. "I just want to make sure you're alright. I give my word, I will not kill him in the middle of this conversation."

Vanessa's lips drew tight. She unwound the wrappings. It looked like her face had been rubbed in sand, fresh scabs across the plane of her forehead, nose, chin, and cheek. "I fell off my tomas. If I showed you, you would have assumed he did it," she stated plainly.

He gritted his teeth. She was right. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Vanessa frowned, the wrappings now wound round only her neck. "Well, I fell pretty hard," she replied edgily. "I scraped up my hands and bruised myself here and there. I'll be fine, but him..."

"He didn't touch you. Good. You've become a little more dangerous than the old Vanessa, haven't you," he wondered aloud, head, heart pounding. "Tougher, too. I would worry about you being alone with the human, even bound, if it weren't for your new…proficiency…in self-defense."

"Thanks, I suppose that's a compliment. I've grown, that was a part of growing."

"Did you fall off your tomas before or after you were spooked by the human?"

"He was the reason why."

"Ah, ok. I'd been wondering how your discovery must have gone. It all makes sense, now. You were riding, you fell off the tomas, onto your face, because you saw a human and were startled into doing such a thing. So you fell on your face and proceeded to leap to your feet and fell the man so thoroughly, because you were startled. You broke his bones and split his head open, because you were startled. Thank you for being so honest with me."

She didn't reply.

That was sarcasm, wasn't it? He meant it as sarcasm, but maybe he'd messed it up.

"I'm being sarcastic," he added.

"No, really?"

"Tell me the truth," he insisted. His left forearm tingled.

"What if the truth is dangerous to him?" she asked, not meeting his eyes. "If he laid a finger on me, would you kill him?"

"I already want to kill him," he corrected, face reddening.

"But you haven't yet, and I like to think that's out of respect for my wishes."

He could smell the reek of human emanating from the tent behind her, surmised he wouldn't be able to eat for days. The odor was like livestock, mingled with a heady scent of plant gore. Knives supposed that she was right; that her words kept him from carving up this vermin.

"Too bad you aren't driven by morals, you know, thou shalt not slaughter, things like that."

"This is not a joke, Vanessa," he snapped, pupils fading as the blades rose and his skin took on the glowing pallor. "Humans…they….If he hurt you, it changes the situation. Considerably."

"No, the situation is still the same. Me and that guy, we're even. He can't do a thing to you, or to me. PUT YOUR BLADES AWAY! I don't believe in killing an aggressor that can be felled by something less than death! Stupid me for thinking you might one day agree," she lamented, standing and tugging Knives up by the shoulders with hands obscured by baggy sleeves. "If the best I can get is you 'respecting my wishes' then so be it, and don't come near this complex again! If you see me again, it'll be when I want you to!"

Knives stepped back, angel arm forced into dormancy to avoid cutting her. For a moment, he felt he should apologize. But he'd done nothing wrong. "I want you safe," he shot back. "All of our kind, we-"

"No you don't, you just want to be Millions Knives again!" she shouted; it hurt as the bruised skin around her neck moved. The man had tried to choke her, bind her…Knives didn't need to know any more than he already did. She walked forward, giving him little shoves to move him toward the cart. "You were supposed to have changed!"

"I what?" he replied, incredulous, as he was pushed.

"Nevermind! Just leave! You're making me sick!"

Knives grabbed her by the collar. "Making you sick? You're making ME sick, with that human stench!"

"Don't touch me," she snarled, tensed to fight him.

His grip loosened, and he turned to the toma cart, silent. He breathed heavily through gritted teeth, and could hear her puffing similarly. He couldn't force her to do anything, or risk her revulsion – not again. The situation was beyond appalling.

"I can't leave you here, with him; it's not safe," he called over his shoulder, finally breaking the tension.

"Well, you're certainly not staying! I can handle myself."

"You're unarmed. Take a blade with you, something," he insisted. The human's bones were broken and bound, but he still wanted her to have something with her…something to compensate for her lack of angel arm ability.

"Fine." She watched him pull a utility knife from his belt, without mentioning that she was in fact armed, with the angel arm that Knives didn't know had been restored.

He dropped the knife into the sand between them and rummaged through the cart supplies. Head spinning, he loaded his pack with just enough provisions for himself and one tomas. "There are emergency rations and water reserves in the floor hatch of the kitchen storage closet." Knives unhitched one of the three creatures from the cart and mounted it. He paused. "Promise me one thing: When you're done with him, when you take him out; don't turn your back on the man unless he's tied to something."

"Promise."

Knives frowned, and kicked the tomas into a stride. He rode away, clutching his cheek. The left side of his face hurt, and his jaw bone throbbed. She'd punched him pretty hard. It didn't hurt while he and she were arguing, but now alone, the pain came in waves. Cursing himself under his breath, he stared forward. If even one more plant was enslaved, one more assault made upon them or Vanessa…he was fairly sure he couldn't cope.

The second sunrise was beautiful.