Knife's Edge

Disclaimer/Notes: I do not own Trigun or any of the characters therein. I hope you like how the story is going so far! If not...what can I say? I'm slightly twisted. There'll be some more Insurance Girls, some more Knives, and a lot of tension. Thank you for reading this far!

Millie opened the door in shocked silence, pale silver-blue eyes wide, little mouth agape. For once, she gave no advice and no silly comments. No unexpected wisdom filled the gap of utter silence. It was as if she felt the hatred in this man. Even the light breeze outside had silenced.

The man Meryl assumed was Knives walked inside, feet making soft thuds on the floor. Meryl stepped far out of his way, but her eyes raked acidly over him. She couldn't help noticing filthy, assorted bandages on his arms and legs, nearly identical to much cleaner, tighter ones on Vash. Pale blond hair was cropped short over tan skin. He looked like any of a thousand people she'd seen, all except his eyes and expression. Was the the man who had caused Vash all that pain?

Knives stood in the center of the room, avoiding them as much as they avoided him. His eyes were slitted, an inhuman icy blue devoid of emotion. "I need somewhere to put him," he said.

"Uh..." Millie volunteered, "I have a bedroom. We don't really have any extras, but...he and you can share mine if you want to. I'll...you can lay him on the couch until I'm done cleaning my stuff out."

Millie left the room, and Meryl was alone with Knives. She could almost feel the hesitancy and anger that he radiated. He laid Vash onto the dusty couch and sat beside him, teeth clenched. He did not look at her.

"Why did you come here, after all you've done to him? Why did you bring him back?"

Knives' head snapped up, as if he was shocked and disgusted at having been spoken to. "It wasn't my choice, spider. It seems that he needs to be here. He's very ill."

"Because of you?" Meryl mentally slapped herself, surprised at her biting tone. What was she doing, antagonizing this man? From what Vash had told her before he had faced Legato for that final time, Knives was disgusted by the human race. How much would it take for him to kill her?

"Because of many things." Knives drew a deep breath, cold eyes scanning the house.

Meryl had cleaned up with Millie last night, but now, as she followed Knives' gaze, every speck of dust seemed to be magnified a million times. The worn threads in the curtains and the little stains on the old furniture stood out, and she winced.

Knives grimaced. "This is disgusting. I'm surprised your whole race has not died because of the filth they allow themselves to live in."

Meryl bit her tongue to keep a harsh reply back. It won't do any good to lose your temper now.

Knives turned her way and continued, "Make no mistake. I did not bring my brother to you for any reason other than I think that he will have a better chance of recovering here. Killing you would be dangerous to his precarious health, and so despite my feelings, I will refrain from taking your pathetic life...for the moment. Tell that childish woman to stay away from me and from my brother. I trust that you will do the same, for your own health, as well as for his. I will not hesitate to harm you if you get in my way. This is not mercy, it's momentary necessity. Do you understand?"

Meryl sucked in a shuddering breath and sent a defiant glare upward, then tore her eyes away from the ice blue ones that held her gaze captive.

Though she did not speak, Knives sensed her uneasiness. "I'm glad we've reached an agreement."

"W—wait...I..." Meryl's feeble attempts to speak gained no recognition from the man in front of her. Her eyes wandered past Knives' stiff form to Vash, his limp body resting on the couch. Meryl sucked her lip in between her teeth, chewing it for a moment and then letting it go.

Millie skipped back in, clothes and hastily-filled suitcases piled up in her arms, blocking her vision. She tottered uncertainly into the living room and set her things down against the farthest wall. Her clothes and toiletries rolled over each other, some making it halfway across the room before resting. She laughed. "Well...it's all cleaned up in there now, at least. You can take Mr. Vash in. I'll sleep on the couch, okay?"

Knives stood.

Millie watched him, wide blue eyes looking him over. Suddenly, she frowned. "You're hurt, too." There was no fear in her voice, only compassion. It was as if the man standing across from her was not a murderer. She smiled, stepping closer. "Hey, I'll get Mr. Vash for you, okay? You can go get yourself some rest. There's a little mattress in the closet, so I'll make that up for you."

Millie leaned down over Vash and lifted him to a sitting position, readying herself to lift him.

Meryl remembered Knives' warning.

"Millie!" she cried. "Don't do that!"

Knives flicked a blade into his hand from nowhere, letting it slide down his palm until his hand gripped it to the hilt. He held it above Millie's neck, playing with the edge of her hair. His eyes hurled a glare at Meryl. As if the blade was penetrating water, it sliced a lock of Millie's hair off, sending it to the floor like tens of auburn feathers.

Millie leaned over Vash, unaware of the turmoil around her. Her slender brows joined in innocent confusion. "But, Sempai...why? Mr. Vash's friend needs some sleep, and he's hurt, too. I should really try to help him bring Mr. Vash into the room, because my big big sister always said that if I can, I should always help people. That's what she told me."

Meryl felt tears sting at her eyes, but she blinked them away. "Not this time, Millie." Her lowered eyes said everything she couldn't bring her voice to speak. Please...just this once, Millie.

Slowly, Millie laid Vash's head back down onto the old pillow. She stepped back.

Knives retracted the blade. He lifted his brother until Vash's arm clasped around Knives' shoulder. He stood and walked down the door. When she heard it close, Meryl let out all of the breath she'd been holding in a huge sob.

Meryl melted down the wall to the hard floor.

Millie seated herself on the couch, nibbling at the breakfast that had been interrupted by their unexpected guests.

All of her life, Meryl had kept her things ordered into a neat little pile, alphabetized and meticulously lined up. Life was simple. Everything fit into a mold, and anything that did not quite fit needed to be conformed. This was not how things were supposed to happen!

She'd always imagined, somehow, that one day he'd just come back. When she imagined it, he was always perfectly fine. Knives was not a factor. When her dreams contrasted with the reality staring back at her, they seemed so naive. She had been stupid to think that everything would turn out all right. Still, though...he was back. This time, she would tell him what she hadn't been able to tell him before.

Meryl's eyes settled on the severed lock of Millie's hair. For whatever reason, whether fear, helplessness, or lack of sleep and the dreams that had plagued the little she'd gotten, Meryl felt tears coming and she didn't try to stop them. Without a word, Millie got up and knelt beside her friend, long arms encompassing Meryl in a hug. "It's okay, Sempai. Lying is bad so I won't say not to be afraid of that man, but we will be okay."

Millie waited until Meryl's sobs had quieted, then she stepped back, smiling. "Are you feeling better now? I made a little bit of breakfast for us. I can get some for you."

Meryl nodded, managing a small, "Thank you."

Before walking in, Millie stooped to pick up the hair. "Sempai, where did he put that knife, anyway?"

Meryl stopped everything. Even her heart seemed to pause. "You...you knew..."

But Millie was already making breakfast. "Do you want me to warm up your eggs?"

Knives took the mattress the large girl had spoken of from the closet. It was pretty clean despite a thin layer of dust, a memoir of lonely disuse. He shook the mattress and laid it on the floor, piling unused blankets on top of it. He refused to lay down, instead choosing to sit. It was a nice alternative to the floor, he had to admit. He unwound the dusty bandages from his arms and looked with disdain upon the moist, pale skin. Puckered scars marred once perfect flesh. He wondered if he could regenerate them. He hated this sickening feeling of imperfection.

He left the bandages by the side of the bed, then peeled the ones off of his legs. Again, they had healed completely, but the scars remained.

He threw those bandages away and took a peek under the tightly wrapped bandage on his stomach. The wound there, though nearly healed, was still tender. "Why, brother? You know I hate pain. Why did you do this to me?"

Vash moved feverishly on the bed. He was shivering again. Knives covered him with one of the quilts. He supposed that the huge girl had slept on it, but one couldn't expect perfection in such an imperfect world.

Sighing, he carefully lifted the edge of the bandage on Vash's right shoulder. Knives had shot him twice, there, though the second bullet had merely nicked Vash's shoulder. As he had expected, the skin was still red. The bullet's tracks had been unsealed yet again, probably from being shifted around so much. Little dots of blood had made it through the bandages.

Knives would have to change them again soon.

Not now, though. Sometime soon, but not now. Knives sat on the bed and let his eyes close. He had refused to sleep but for a mere few hours, and exhaustion took over. Soon, he was asleep.

Meryl watched Millie as the young woman stood up, absently sipping coffee. It was black. Millie said it was because "he" had liked it that way. She stood at the counter now, sipping that coffee with her back to Meryl. She could hear erratic gasps of breath. Millie's shoulders shook ever so slightly under the little teal shawl she wore.

The cross cufflinks Wolfwood had worn now adorned Millie's sleeves. Meryl felt her stomach dive when she thought of Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Poor Millie... She knew that there had been something special between the two of them.

If it hurt her this much, how much pain must Millie have been hiding?

Meryl knew that the man in the bedroom was the one who had ordered the death of Wolfwood. Vash had told her. Now, all she needed to do was to choose the right time to tell Millie. She looked at her silent friend and shook her head. It should probably be soon, because if Knives didn't already know about Wolfwood and Millie, he soon would. Meryl just wanted to be the first to tell her.

Author's Note: Finally! The next chapter is up. I could not have written it without all the encouragement from all the great reviewers. Thanks for putting up with me! I hope you like this chapter, and remember, if you find any errors or have any suggestions, please feel free to tell me. I don't mind. In fact, I appreciate constructive criticism. I'll love you forever and give you huge warm butterscotch brownies if you review! (pushes review button toward reader) Ya know you wanna...(evil grin)