Shades of Gray
Disclaimer/Notes: I don't own Trigun. Also, to all the writers out there, remember: Knives Day is TODAY! Write a drabble or short fic to help celebrate! (Gets madly to work on a Knives-centric story.) Anyway, hope you enjoy. I had a crazy time trying to write the characters in this one. I guess it's my own fault for putting them into such a crazy situation.
Knives' footsteps echoed in sync with Vash's as they walked through the long, darkened hall. The only light shone from under a door at the very end of the hall, illuminating them all dimly.
Vash heard the sound of his heartbeat like the staccato taps of a drummer. Dizzy with fear, he could almost see through his brother's eyes, feel the hatred coursing through Knives. He stepped in front of the doctor. Knives could do nothing without literally having to go through Vash first.
They stopped at the end of the hallway, and Knives squinted as the sudden bright light of the suns shone through a windowed room. The doors closed and Vash felt a sensation of safety sweep over him. He did not hear the sound, but he knew what had happened when the door had slipped closed. It was what he had counted on. It was a containment lock, a seal from the outside. It had been placed there long before, when this was a laboratory. Nothing was getting out of this door now. Whatever happened behind it would stay there. The people here were safe...for now.
Once he had entered the room, Vash looked around.
There were no walls in this one. It was a dome of glass. Outside, long, dark panels stretched far beyond the glass, reflecting sunlight back into the room in a blinding display of white light. The doctor donned sunglasses and tapped a few keys on a computer. The panels lifted slightly. "This is the place," he murmured.
"What is it?" Knives hissed.
"Solar panels. With the overwhelming amount of sun that beats down on this planet each day, we have more than enough energy to power many of the systems here, with much left to conserve. This entire ship no longer has need of its Plants. They are sleeping below. In essence, they are free. This ship is run entirely by solar energy. As you have seen, we have not finished rewiring it all, so many places are still dark. But it is the beginning. It's our beginning, and yours, too."
Knives frowned. "Regression is inevitable. This feeble power source will fail and your species will fall back into its old ways. It will not stop. Humans refuse to change."
"Who are you rationalizing that to?" Doc asked softly, not looking up as he worked at a console.
Knives cast a disgusted glare at Vash. "It won't work."
"It will," the doctor said. "It has already started. Soon, we will have the resources to power this small town. Wind and sunlight are painful constants here, but we can change them into our allies. We've always had the resources to change. It's just that no one has had the will, the technology or the knowledge to try. We do now. After this, other towns will prosper. We needed only to start this."
Knives sneered at the doctor, stepping forward and bowing down to the small man's level. "Change? Perhaps. But for how long? A week, two? Perhaps a year, or even many years. But then a problem will arise, and out of fear for their own worthless lives, your kind will do whatever they must to ensure their own survival. I've seen it, over and over again."
A soft voice broke in. "And you're different from them in what way? Tell me that, Knives."
Knives lurched upward, controlled anger burning in his eyes as he met his brother's calm gaze. "What did you say, Vash?"
Vash stepped in front of the doctor. "I said exactly what I meant, Knives. You say they're a mass of contradictions, but your actions go against the beliefs you claim to hold to. Remember when we were little, watching those people drinking the water in front of that crashed ship? You got so disgusted when that one man ran and stole the water from the others. He was selfish, but you still judged every person outside of that ship for the one man's actions, and then you nearly overloaded that Plant."
Knives did nothing.
"You've done that for so long, Knives. You judged the entire ship we were on—and all the people sleeping inside—for the actions of a small group. Do you know how many children died? There were...millions of people there, Knives. Remember how Rem would let us scroll through the computer log of passengers? Knives...so many people...so many children were not given the chance to even live! You always say that humans sacrifice others for their own protection. What are you, then, for doing the very same thing on an even larger scale?"
"Vash, stop it!" Knives hissed. In response to his anger, the blades on his arm bristled menacingly.
"You fear what they will do to you, Knives. You think that we cannot be accepted for what we are, and perhaps we can't. But killing them is not the way to go about changing things. You think that I'm weak for trying to save them. You can't fathom why I'd let myself be harmed for such disgusting and contradictory beings. Over and over, you've said that you can't understand me, and that I don't make any sense. You talk of logic, but you seem even more illogical than they do.
"We are all flawed. We live in a flawed world with incomplete knowledge, where innocent people die without a reason and men kill other men. We're not omnipotent, as much as you may want to believe that we are. On the way here, I thought about a lot of things. Everyone can't be saved every time. Sometimes, you can only do the best you can and hope that it's enough. I've always hoped that I could change everything, but you want to know what? I can't. But maybe I can change one person, and maybe that person will change another. It's all we can do, because we're not gods."
Knives stood. He smiled. "Maybe not, but we're better than they are. The thought of sharing this world with them is repulsive. In fact...I thank you for bringing me here. This will be the start of our Eden." The blades on his arm lengthened as he drew a cleansing breath. "But before we enjoy this luscious new power source, I think I'll get rid of the parasites. Don't get in my way, Vash. I did some thinking on the way here, too. If I must, I'll kill you. I would rather not have to, but if you get in my way, it will only prove your unwillingness to change. I will no longer see you as my kin, but as a spider...like them."
Vash did not move from in front of the doctor. His mind berated him for not thinking this through more deeply. But perhaps...perhaps he had known.
Doc's soft whisper was audible behind him. "I won't say that I've lived out my days and you haven't, because that would be useless and a rather obvious lie. I only look a lot more like I have...but you were talking about change. You can start it. Don't be stupid, Vash. Don't sacrifice yourself."
Vash looked back and smiled. "I'll be fine. I'm really sorry, Doc. You know how I am, though."
Knives' mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but a cold expression passed over his features, and he closed his mouth again.
No hesitation this time. He swung the blades in a wide arc. Vash gripped a nearby console and plunged backwards, tired muscles straining with the jarring movement. The blades barely missed, blinding light glinting from them as they seared the air mere inches above Vash. Once they had withdrawn, Vash lurched forward and stepped out of the thin aisle almost instinctively. Perhaps Doc could move freely in there, but Vash could hardly navigate his way through the thin passage without—oh God! The doc! Vash swore to himself and cut back into the aisle, right as Knives thrust his blades forward. "Doc, run!" Vash managed to gasp as he hastened backwards. Too slow.
Pain in his arm. Scarlet misted across the pristine console to his right.
"I see you've made your choice." Knives' words were soft, but their tone was cold and razor sharp. "I'm glad. It makes it so much easier to carry mine out."
With blurring speed, Knives' left hand reached out and gripped the slice he'd made on Vash's right arm. Pain sent shudders of weakness through him, and even though he tried to fight, his brother's physical strength outweighed Vash's. Knives spun Vash out of the aisle and pushed him against the wall. Vash's head collided with it, sending lightning bolts across his vision.
Knives didn't allow him to slip down or regain his balance. The moment Vash hit the wall, Knives handled four blades and shot each one forward with deadly force. Each hit its mark, piercing skin and muscle and binding him to the wall.
"I'll figure out what to do with you when I'm done."
Vash's vision was on fire with white slashes of pain and an encroaching haze of blackness, but he could still see—or perhaps he only felt it—as Knives turned toward the doctor. Vash tried to move, but his body did not respond. Every other sense seemed magnified in the absence of his sight, as if his body was mocking him with his inability to protect those he loved. He heard Knives' footsteps, heard the steady plink of his own blood as it spattered rhythmically to the floor. "Knives..."
But the single word caught in his throat, more a guttural cough than anything else.
He could not use his abilities. The concentration required was impossible now.
Vash blinked until he was able to make out whitish outlines. His blood on the floor seemed only to be deep, dark black holes in the world of gray-white around them. Vash heard Knives' voice, and he heard the doctor's soft reply. Then Knives again... "Shall I take it slow, then, spider?"
No...
No! Vash tried to move his left arm, but the limp prosthetic wouldn't even twitch. He'd have to use his right hand, then. Vash reached up to his right shoulder in jerky starts and gripped the blade there. His body arched in pain from the exertion, nearly convulsing. The blade had been slammed all the way through. It had lodged deeply into the wall behind him. He would have to twist it to even get it to budge.
But he'd made a plan. He could not go back. He could not give up now.
First he jammed the knife up with his palm. His teeth clamped as he felt the heat of blood spreading from the torn wound. Once he was sure that his grip was strong enough, he grabbed the knife and arched it downward just a bit. A pull and it was out.
Vash's vision blanked and he shook his head to regain it. With his free right arm, he gripped his prosthetic left and lifted it. In contrast to his slow movements, the machine gun in his arm opened with blinding speed. He didn't need to see Knives. He could tell where he was by sense alone. It had always been that way between the twins.
"I'm sorry, Knives. Rem... I'm so sorry."
He fired.
Two hands had joined together, sealed by a promise and a smile. So easy. Everything had been so easy back then. Right had been right and wrong had been wrong. Their world was colored in black and white, having not yet revealed the spectrum of grey shadows lurking beneath the flawless contrast.
It had been so perfect back then.
They should have known it would not last. So very few things in this world lasted. Even the strongest bonds were torn and twisted by the decaying test of time.
Pain...
Blood and memories congealed together, interspersed with images of a face that had once held only happy curiosity. Knives...
Why did things have to change? Why... why did it come to this? Brothers should never fight. No one should fight.
They had made a promise.
If only childish sincerity had been enough to seal it. But it never was.
It was so quiet.
The air, the wind—even the sunlight seemed to have a sound. The world was full of ambient buzzing, but those whispers were completely devoid of life. Quiet and dead. Vash shook himself out of the enveloping peace of the thoughts that dragged him into darkness. With his right hand, he grasped at the blade in his left shoulder, wrenching it up savagely. He ignored the blood and the pain. He let the blade slip through his fingers to the floor. This was the end. It didn't matter.
Next came the blades in his legs. It seemed to take an eternity to displace them. Once they were gone, he fell. Ironically enough, they had been the only things keeping him upright. Vash sucked in a deep breath and made himself stand. As he navigated his way to the place across the room, a trail stopped him. Blood. Like a snake, it followed the cracks slowly, moving forward with stealth. He bit his lip. "Knives..."
Vash made himself continue to walk, until he found his way to the narrow walkway.
A weak laugh, drier than the barren wind outside, echoed up from the floor. "What, do you plan to kill me now, brother? Finally given up on that fruitless venture of yours?"
Vash shook his head. "No, Knives," he whispered.
Knives smirked and absently fingered the bullet wounds on his body. His arms, his shoulders, his side. Material slipped from one of his blades and bonded the wound closed. "Superficial. Still trying not to kill." He shook his head.
Vash gripped the counter as dark haze washed his vision. "Knives. Do you remember...the promise we made?"
The smirk softened a bit, whether in exhaustion from blood loss or in acknowledgement, Vash did not know. Knives blinked, and his eyes remained closed over the lids for several moments before he opened them again, directing his icy gaze to Vash's azure one. "I remember. What of it?"
"That's sort of what I was wondering." Vash couldn't hold himself up any longer, so he let himself sit down in the slick floor. "What of it? Does it mean anything to you?"
Knives laughed, but there was no mirth in it. "Of course. You think that I am the one who has caused all these problems, but who ran away, Vash? Who avoided me at every turn, getting involved with those disgusting spiders in some lame attempt at absolution? I've never forgotten that naive promise we made, brother. You did. And we can't go back to those days. Not now. It took me a long time to realize that, but it's true."
"But..."
Another laugh, harsher, grating like the sharp instruments Knives commanded. "You really think it's possible? Don't be naive. I've finally realized the truth. You've heard of a point of no return? We passed it...so long ago. We're not the people we used to be, and we'll never be those people again."
"We don't have to be. We can—"
Knives shook his head. "No, we can't. I proved it to you and you proved it to me today." He gestured to the blood on the floor and smeared against the counter they leaned against."Brothers...they would not do this."
Vash felt anger welling inside of him, searing awareness into his consciousness. "Maybe it's the only thing we could do...to finally open our eyes."
Knives did not reply. The light of both suns caught on the dark panels outside, and the reflected light cast through the room, blinding and ethereal. Vash winced and closed his eyes.
"Your spider... I didn't kill him." An ironic smile passed Knives' lips.
Vash had known this before, but he had not expected Knives to mention it. His eyes traveled to the doctor. He looked as if he were unconscious, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.Vash looked at the blades, still formed at Knives' side. Those blades... He could've... if he wanted to... "Thank you."
"It was not my own choice, Vash. Save your thanks. Nothing has changed."
"What now?"
Silence.
"Knives..."
"God, Vash. You're an idiot. Do you enjoy pain? You're going to bleed to death if you make no attempt to stem those wounds."
"Oh." Vash put his hand over one of the dripping knife wounds and then pulled his hand away, looking at it absently, as if there was something much more important taking up his thoughts. "Knives, I'm sorry I hurt you."
He smiled dryly. "You've never found it too difficult before."
Vash looked down at the ground, watching as blood snaked across the floor, inevitably etching a thicker path outward. "No. I really am sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I've done it before and I'm sorry. I...had to. You were going to kill Doc."
Vash saw Knives raise the bladed hand. With little thought and with no hesitation, Vash closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the blades had stopped. Knives hissed in a breath, trying to regain control of the hand.
"Please don't," Vash said. It felt so strange and horrible and yet frighteningly easy to seize control of someone's freedom like this, but he could not allow Knives to hurt any more people. "I don't want to have to do this to you."
Breathing quickly, Knives gasped a statement through clenched teeth, "So you're finally acknowledging what you are."
"You can't get out of here, Knives. I'm not afraid to do what I have to so I can make sure you don't hurt the people here."
Knives said nothing. After a few moments, Knives said, "You knew the door locked when we walked in. I saw it in your face. You meant to face me again."
"Yeah."
"Protecting your humans," Knives spat.
"Protecting us, too. Knives... I have something to tell you. Please listen. When I'm done, you can do whatever you want. You can try to kill me, or you can just disagree, and we'll pick this up where it started on that escape pod so long ago. We'll go our separate ways...again. Please, just listen to me."
Knives stared out to the horizon, where both suns were making their way above it. All the clouds had taken on the suns' orange glow, so the entire expanse of sky seemed to blaze. A wind swept over him, drying the blood over the wounds he had sealed. He heard two voices. One was Vash's, the other that diminutive spider he'd forgotten to kill. He clenched his teeth as the wind stopped. Vash's voice was soft but still audible.
"Sorry. Thanks for the bandages, but I don't want to cause you any more trouble. It was kind of you to even do what you did, and I'm so sorry...sorry for what happened. I'm sure things will work out all right. You give a lot of people hope, Doc. Keep it up. What you're doing here...it's going to save us all. Goodbye, Doc. I'll see you..."
But Vash didn't finish the sentence, and the doctor didn't reply.
Soft footsteps crunched into the sand until Vash was standing behind Knives.
Still facing forward, Knives did not turn around to see his brother's face. "Do not think that anything has changed, Vash, or that my plans will be put off forever. This is a mere detour. It is for entertainment and nothing more."
Vash spoke behind him, his voice tinted with an unfamiliar softness while at the same time holding merciless determination. "I understand, Knives, but you have to understand, too. When you brought me with you, you revealed what we can do, what I can do. And...before, I think I was afraid to use my abilities. I was afraid to leave, afraid to be away from the people I'd grown to care about... but I'm not anymore. Not any of it. If you ever try to kill people again—and I'll feel it if you do, Knives—I'll do whatever I have to, to make sure no one gets killed. Now that I know what I have to do, we can stay like we were, rivals...or we can go away from here and we can try to see if we really can still be brothers. Either way, I'm not giving up. Not ever."
Knives' lips turned up. Vash had become so much stronger. The fool had finally accepted his abilities as a part of him, and his power was only growing."You break this deal and run, Vash, and I'll know. If you even think about it I'll know, and I'll kill them."
"Yes."
They walked. It wasn't very far, but it was far enough that they were no longer in view of the ship. Knives' demeanor suddenly darkened as a car appeared over one of the sandy dunes. "Your little spiders are close, brother."
Vash nodded. He stood there, barely daring to move. So this was the compromise he had been looking for. To keep Knives from hurting the humans he cared about, he would have to leave, forever alienating himself from the people here. He would just be a ghost to them, watching but not seen.
Alone.
But perhaps he and Knives could try to mend the relationship they'd torn.
He could not try to change Knives anymore, because he couldn't make him do that. Only Knives could change.
And if that was impossible, then at least Vash could counter Knives. And he could. He would.
"Go," Knives hissed.
Vash turned briefly and met Knives' eyes as he started walking.
'I'll be watching, Vash. You can go there and heal, but if you choose not to return, remember... I will kill them.'
'No you won't. I would stop you if you tried. I have no intention of running away, though, Knives.'
Off in the distance, Vash watched the car navigate the dusty dunes as the two watched, far above it all. The people in the vehicle were mere specks, but he could feel that it was them. Meryl and Millie. Hope surged inside of him at the thought of being able to see them again so soon, but it died when he realized he'd have to explain his reasons. How could he say that once he had stayed with them for a little while, he'd have to leave again? How could he tell them that he probably would never see them after that?
More than the wounds through his body, that hurt.
Vash slid down the dune and waited at the bottom.
Author's Notes: Wow, well...lots of character development here. (I hope.) Vash made a lot of decisions in this one. The crazy idiot finally accepted his abilities and realized that the only way to compromise was to leave his friends completely. He's still hoping to save Knives, or at least stop him, but I can't imagine Vash ever giving up on that. At least he's starting to realize that changing Knives isn't his own choice, but Knives'. Thanks for reading! (whispers) Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Strike that—I'm terrified that I didn't do everything right! Please give your thoughts! And don't worry, everything left unexplained in this chapter will be explained in the next one.