Milly watched Knives huddle the farthest corner of the living room, squished between the couch and the wall, as far as he could possibly get from Vash. Knives had started out in his own room, but two walls and a bathroom weren't enough of a barrier between the twins. He must have been in serious pain to be displaying signs of discomfort so readily in front of her.

He was cradling his head and looked absolutely miserable. He looked so defenseless, so disenfranchised. He needed a break. They both did. They'd been listening to Vash's wails for hours. Milly was really glad there was nothing to drink around because if there had been, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be setting a good example for anyone else.

Knives watched as she walked over to the intercom button and pressed in the code for Doc's lab. He couldn't pay attention to the conversation, though. It felt like Vash was trying to suck him in, trying to use him to shore up his emotional hemorrhaging, and Knives just couldn't do it. He didn't have anything to give. The belief that had pulled him through since he was a child was gone. He wasn't protecting Vash. He wasn't helping Vash. He was hurting Vash. He could now see what his brother had been feeling all that time. He had taken everything Vash cared about and destroyed it again, and again, and again. And the worst part of it all was that Vash felt solely responsible for all the things that had happened to him.

Vash thought it was all his fault.

That pain that Knives had felt, that total, empty, lost feeling; he couldn't get away from it. He was trapped in it. He was trapped in his brother's anguish. At least Vash had the small belief that humans were generally good to cling to. Knives was stripped of everything: his justification, his power, his very identity was completely shattered.

"Come on," he heard a voice next to him say. It was that Milly person. She hadn't left yet. She held her hand out. "It's time for a break."

He found it painfully easy to admit to himself that he was glad she was still there.

He stared dumbly at her for several moments. He finally rose to his feet on his own. "Are we…going somewhere?" he asked, his voice much softer than he expected it to be. He looked in the direction of Vash's room. When was he going to stop screaming?

"He'll be okay here. Doc is going to come and check on him." She looked in Vash's direction as well. "I think he wants to be alone, anyway."

Knives sighed, secretly anticipating escape from all this pain. "I can't leave the room."

Milly smiled. "I've got it taken care of! Just trust me and come on." She walked to the door and waited for him to follow.

He was ready for a trap. He was sure that as soon as he left the room, he was going to be rendered helpless and a horde of angry humans was going to attack him. But he had to get away from his brother and all this pain. As he cautiously stepped through the threshold, however, he found that his arms still maintained functionality. The only person in the corridor was Milly and she didn't look like she was going to hurt him.

But it could still be a trap.

He followed her, despite his paranoia. The farther he got from Vash, the less he felt. They walked for a long time, and the longer he walked, the more numb he became, but he found no solace. Before, he pushed out all feeling and it was okay because he had a shining light to follow, a belief to keep him going. He had been doing everything for Vash. The humans had to die so he and Vash could be happy. Even Rem…he'd sacrified Rem for Vash. He'd given Vash everything he could.

Now, there was nothing. He was nothing. There was no point in going on, really. Was everything he'd done in his life based on a mistake? He couldn't protect his own brother. Would Vash hate him? Had he killed Rem for nothing?

He was brought back to the present by an excited voice. "Stay here." He looked up to see Milly smiling at him and gesturing with her hands like she was pushing air down. He saw a series of booths and a counter with what looked like…guns. Lots and lots of guns.

This…really was a trap.

"You sure you know what you're doing, Miss Milly?" the man behind the counter asked. He pushed a box of bullets towards her. They were standing in the make-shift shooting gallery on the ship. It had recently opened and Milly only knew about it because she followed Meryl down here one time.

Milly personally loaded the magazines of both the pistols she'd checked out. "Of course I know what I'm doing. Have a little faith!" She finished with the magazines, loaded them into the pistols, and grabbed some ear plugs. She knew that whenever she needed to blow off some steam, the firing range was the place to do it, and it might make Knives feel a little more in control. Guns had a way of making her feel powerful, at least, and Knives looked like he needed to feel a little bit of that. She knew this was a big step, a huge step really, and just hoped that her instincts were correct.

She turned around and saw that Knives was still in the exact place she'd left him, but he was giving her the strangest look. She walked a little closer and then motioned for him to follow her. He followed her despite himself. It didn't feel okay to trust her, but he certainly didn't trust any of the other humans more, and he suddenly wanted to get his hands on one of those guns.

She walked to the last booth and put all her equipment on the counter in front of her. She handed Knives a pair of ear plugs and happily stuffed hers in her ears as she watched him do the same. She smiled at Knives as he finished putting the ear plugs in and handed him one of the pistols, handle first. He took the gun and felt its weight in his hand. He saw her watching him. She hadn't picked up her gun yet. Was this all part of the trap?

"Can…I have that one?" he asked.

Milly looked at him questioningly, but took the gun back from him and replaced it with hers.

He felt it in his hand…it felt the same: the same weight, the same power, the same caliber. Right now, it was the only power he had, and it had been a mistake for her to give it to him. It wasn't a very high caliber pistol, but it would work just the same. At some point his eyes had begun to water because he realized he couldn't see her as clearly anymore. No matter. He pointed the gun at her and before she could react, he squeezed off two rounds into her chest. He immediately closed his eyes, said an apology that he hoped would get to Vash, put the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger.

Vash sensed the two of them leave the room and he felt immense sadness and incredible relief at the same time. His cries of anguish diminished into body-racking sobs.

"The bed looks nice… So…what are you doing on the floor?" a voice asked him. Vash stopped crying. He pulled the covers away from his face slowly. Vash looked around and saw Wolfwood sitting on the floor, propping himself up casually against the wall. Wolfwood looked so real. He was really losing it this time. The dead priest looked around the room before his eyes settled on Vash's. He jumped at the sight, his sunglasses nearly falling off of his face. "YIKES!! What happened to you?"

Vash ducked back under the covers. "Leave me alone."

"Umm…You are alone."

Vash's sobs resumed.

"Aw, come on. You know I didn't mean it like that." Wolfwood looked around a little nervously. Anything that took more than a 'buck up' and a slap on the back was outside his scope of support. Wasn't part of the reason women were so amazing because they were made specifically for situations like these? "Isn't somebody supposed to be watching you? Um…Where's short stuff?"

He gasped air in between sobs. "Gone." He kept crying.

Wolfwood raised his eyebrows and let out a silent "Oh…" He listened to Vash cry for a while. He got up and looked around the place. "Then, you're really here by…yourself?"

He saw the man-shaped blanket nod vigorously as it continued to emit sad crying noises.

Wolfwood cased the entire apartment, suddenly very pissed. "Well, where the hell is everybody?" he almost shouted. He started muttering to himself. "What kind of cretins would leave a poor guy like this all by himself?" He absent-mindedly patted down his pockets for a cigarette he wasn't going to find. He realized what he was doing and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He would have laughed at his own personal hell if Vash had been in a better mood. He ended up back in Vash's room.

"I sent them away… I don't want them to die… I don't want them to be here." Vash cried throughout. "I just don't want to hurt anymore."

Wolfwood swallowed. He couldn't believe he was going to ask Vash this…in his emotional state, no less. "Are…the girls…alright?" They couldn't be dead -- Vash would have kicked his ass or crushed his ribs by now.

Vash stopped crying and momentarily lapsed into wails. "Milly's fine… I told Meryl to leave…and she finally listened." He switched back to sobs. "It was the right thing for her to do. Nothing good has ever come to anybody who has associated with me. I can't blame her for thinking of her--GAH!!" he screamed as Wolfwood backhanded the blanketed mass somewhere within the vicinity of Vash's head. Vash's face popped out from under the covers. He looked pathetically angry. "What the hell was that for?" he sniffled.

Wolfwood shook his head in aggravation. "What the HELL did I tell you about this martyr bullshit? When are you going to listen to me, Spikey?" He tried to reign in his anger. "Come on, now get a grip." He watched as Vash tried to plaster some fake emotion over his face. Wolfwood felt instantly regretful. It made him think of the first time he met Vash. "That's…that's not what I meant." Wolfwood sat on the floor in front of Vash. "I know…" God, where was he going with this? "I know you feel like shit right now." Vash's expression began to slip back into one of complete despair. "But…it's okay, Spikey. I mean, you've been dealt a shitty hand, my friend, a shitty hand. And other people…they've…"

Vash didn't know quite what Wolfwood was trying to get at, but he was listening to him. He didn't realize that his breathing was beginning to calm.

"God damn it," he said as he realized he was starting to ramble. "Someone already said this better... It's been a while, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty."

He took a deep breath. It really had been years.

"Blessed..." he started cautiously, "are the poor in spirit…for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

He closed his eyes. "Blessed are the meek…for they shall possess the land."

He didn't want to look at Vash. "Blessed are they who mourn…for they shall be comforted." They were coming back to him more easily now.

How many times had he thrown these words back in his teachers' faces?

He always felt bad for never telling Vash this. "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice…for they shall have their fill." He had watched Vash fight for other people, but he was unable to offer the words that might comfort his aching heart.

But back then, when he was alive, he was just all out of faith. Vash was the one who gave it back to him. Watching him, the way he worked, the way he tried to save everybody, the way he always tried to make the right decision…it made Wolfwood want to be a better man. It was Vash's actions, not any prayer, any confession, any words, that gave him back his faith. "Blessed are the merciful…for they shall obtain mercy."

Jeez, he thought to himself. How many times had he condemned himself with these very words?

If he said it, he wanted Vash to be able to believe in it, free of any of the skepticism he felt. "Blessed are the clean of heart…for they…for they shall see God." He wanted Vash to know it as truth.

He looked up, and saw that he had Vash's undivided attention. He took his sunglasses off. Vash really was hurting, but he was hoping, too. He just needed some hope, and that was the only kind of comfort Wolfwood had to offer. "Blessed are…the peacemakers…for they shall be called the children of God." A child of God…it was funny how he always felt something divine in Vash. Maybe this was why.

And if Vash ever needed to hear this, it was now. "Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." It's all yours, Spikey, just don't give up.

Vash didn't say anything. He rubbed his sad, tired eyes.

"I know that in some ways, they're just words…they're ancient words…and I'm not asking you to believe in anything. I just wanted you to hear them. I wanted you to know…that other people suffer, and other people hurt, and they need help to deal with it." He put his hand on Vash's shoulder. Vash looked up at him. He let Vash see straight into his heart. "You don't have to do everything yourself." He watched Vash for a moment. "It's okay to ask for help."

Vash sniffled a bit. "Thanks…" Either he had finally lost it, or Wolfwood was starting to make sense. "Thanks for coming around."

Wolfwood smiled and patted Vash on the shoulder. Good…he wasn't crying anymore. This was a perfect time to change the subject. "So…did short stuff give you the 'Insurance Girl' special?"

Vash cocked his eyebrow. "The what?"

"Nevermind…you'd know it if it happened." Wolfwood leaned against the bed and flashed a dangerous grin. "You know I'm not the type to kiss and tell, but that Milly, she's amazing…knows exactly what to do to make you feel like a man…" He trailed off. "But…it figures Meryl wouldn't come around…way too uptight for her own good…"

Vash blushed and sputtered, "What in god's name are you talking about?"

Wolfwood looked at him a little confused. "You mean…she never…" Maybe he'd read the situation all wrong. "She never tried anything with you?"

Vash sat there with an I-have-cooties-and-no-girl-in-her-right-mind-would-be-interested-in-me look on his face and just shook his head no. "Meryl?" he squeaked, a quiver in his chin. "Did you not hear me? Meryl's gone. She left me."

"You know," he said slowly, "you sound like a jilted lover." Vash tried to speak, but the sounds coming out of his mouth could not be classified as English. "Anyway, I'm sure she'd make herself easy to find if you wanted to look." Wolfwood eyeballed him. He leaned in closer. "She really never tried anything? She didn't ever, I don't know, sneak into your room when you were sad and…well…try to make you, you know…feel better?" He winked. He'd always pegged Meryl as a woman who knew what she wanted (when she was ready to admit it to herself), and unless he had gotten his wires hopelessly crossed, she definitely wanted Vash.

Vash couldn't possibly blush any more. What was this terrorist priest thinking?! "All…all she ever did was bandage my wounds. And…she made me soup. And…she would watch me and make sure I stayed in bed." He had a faraway look in his eyes. "That was all she did. And that…was just what I needed."

Huh…well, maybe he had been wrong. "Hell Spikey, if that's what you're missing, I can do that." He thought a minute. "I mean, I can only make udon, and you don't have any bullet holes in you at the moment, but I can definitely hang out."

The blood in Vash's blushed cheeks began to drain and return from whence it came. "Really?" There was an odd little tremble in Vash's voice, like he was used to bracing himself for rejection.

"Yeah. No problem." God, was it really this easy? "Just get into bed."

Vash gave him a concerned look. He felt a little stupid for asking Wolfwood to stay. "You're sure?"

"I said it was no problem. Get in bed and go to sleep. I'll be here."

Vash's eyes were filled with an inordinate amount of gratitude. "Thanks," he said simply. He grabbed the blankets that were wrapped around him and stumbled into bed.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Wolfwood got up and made himself comfortable against the wall. He smiled as he watched Vash sleep. You're hopeless, he thought to himself.

Knives was aware of himself.

Something had gone wrong.

He felt a monumental pain at his temple, but when he tried to touch it, he couldn't move his arm.

He couldn't move his other arm, either.

It had been a trap.

He felt a weight he hadn't realized was there lifted off of his head and replaced with a cool, soft, soothing object. He realized he was in a bed. He felt that Vash was physically close, but he was no longer trapped in a telepathic connection he couldn't sever.

Now he was just trapped with his own mind.

He slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to the dim light in the room. His vision was a little blurry, but with successive blinks, it began to clear up.

That woman was in the room with him. She had her hair pulled back in a pony tail. From this angle, she didn't look anything like Rem. He'd been fooling himself the whole time, hoping to find something he would never find again.

He tried to sit up, but his movement caught her attention and she quickly placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down gently. "Don't move, okay?" she said quietly. "You gave yourself a concussion." When she was satisfied that he wasn't going to move again, she sat back in her chair. "Doc says you're practically healed now, but you're probably going to have a pretty bad headache for a while."

He was suddenly confused. "How am I still alive?"

He saw her smile. "I loaded the guns with rubber bullets." She absentmindedly rubbed her chest. "They're not quite as lethal, but just as fun to shoot." She looked away. "It's a dirty trick I picked up from Mr. Vash the Stampede."

"This was a setup. You didn't trust me."

Now she looked confused. "Yes…I did. I trusted you to be yourself, but I was also giving you a chance to prove me wrong."

Too much talking, not enough information. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

Milly thought. "About a day and a half."

A day and a half…he'd been at their mercy for roughly 36 hours, and Vash hadn't kept his promise. Vash hadn't protected him. He'd just left him here by himself. He'd been by himself with this…this imposter.

Milly watched him as he fought back tears unsuccessfully. She was shocked at how much he suddenly looked like Vash.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He couldn't believe he was giving this imposter the privilege of seeing his pain. He tried to lift his hands to staunch the hemorrhaging of tears from his eyes, but his arms simply would not budge. He needed to get away, to be anywhere other than where he was.

He haphazardly swung his legs out of bed and used his torso to lift himself. He suddenly felt a body pressed against his and arms pulling him close.

"It's okay. Vash is sleeping, but he's here. You need to get some rest, too."

He tried to shake her off, but he couldn't. "Get off me!!" he shouted.

Milly shook her head no. "Don't wake up your brother."

The pounding in his head wouldn't stop. He wanted to stop existing. He wanted to give up. He wanted to stop remembering Rem. He wanted this woman to go away and never come back. He wanted this stranger to leave him alone. He wanted to be alone like he deserved.

Why was she still here?

He leaned his face in the crook of her neck and bawled. She held him tightly against her. She began to trace circles on his back. "It's okay. You're safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

He wanted to believe it, but he couldn't. Humans were liars. They destroyed their old planet because they were too stupid to know better. They hurt each other, they hurt his sisters, they hurt his brother. He retaliated in the only way he had left.

He bared his teeth and sank them viciously into Milly's shoulder.

Milly tried not to scream, but his teeth crushed deeper and deeper into her body. She was certain he was drawing blood and she did the only thing she knew to do.

She punched him in the face.

Knives almost lost consciousness again as she pushed him off of her. Through the pain in his head, he slowly realized she had him by the collar of his shirt.

"Let me amend that," she hissed through anger and pain. "Nobody is going to hurt you AS LONG AS YOU RETURN THE FAVOR." She stared him down for a few more seconds before releasing him and letting him fall back on the bed. She got up to leave the room, clutching her shoulder. "I'm going to check up on you in a little while. Don't do anything stupid to yourself. You don't even want to know what it would do to Vash if he found out what you tried to pull yesterday. And if you made me wake up your brother, so help me, YOU WILL BE SORRY!"

She exited the room, wondering at just what point she had become her mother.

The boss liked to starve them first. That was how the boss did things. No matter how much fun the new shipment from the caravan raid looked, they always had to do things his way. And he'd seen what happened when the boss didn't get his way.

The slaver sighed, realizing that a small bit of carnal pleasure with a new body wouldn't be worth dying over. He just hoped he would get to be first in line. This little one had a temper he couldn't believe.

He threw the prisoner into the dirty cell. Tired eyes looked at him through black hair with fading consciousness.

He couldn't wait.

A/N: HELLO EVERYBODY!!! Thanks to JAYA MITAI for being so kind as to beta this chapter. Super great notes!!!

And…I HOPE EVERYBODY LIKES THIS CHAPTER!!!

And…EVERYONE WHO REVIEWS GETS A GOLD DINOSAUR!!! (gold stars…so overdone.)