He could leave.
No one was stopping him.
When he thought about it that way, it staved off some of the anxiety of being trapped in a ship filled with humans who should have been rightly calling for his head. It had been two days since Vash had left him alone here and after he recovered from the terrifyingly strong mind-meld that left him wishing for his brother to get as far away from him as possible, he found himself puttering around the ship under a haze of uselessness and nervousness.
In his heyday, he had been in total control of his surroundings. Now he was puttering.
Knives had taken to the engine room. Doc had been working on some components there and that morning had asked for Knives to accompany him. The plant wasn't a mechanic by any means, but he did have a photographic memory and remembered schematics he had come across as a child when sifting through files aboard the mothership. This came in handy, considering most files in the ship's database were either still encrypted or corrupted, rendering them utterly useless for all intents and purposes.
He liked being in the engine room. The ship felt alive to him, and the sensation was particularly strong in this part, easier for him to pick up. He liked being away from the rest of the ship's residents. He also liked knowing that he had a physical advantage over the small doctor. The man posed little threat and if need be, Knives could kill him simply.
That's how Knives' mind worked these days. He was overwhelmingly focused on survival. It was a small preoccupation. Before, he was concerned with matters of world domination, the smiting of an entire race of organisms, and the like. Now it felt like he was just trying to keep himself alive. He didn't go into a room without noting all the exits and who was where. Before, it didn't even matter. He was untouchable, superior. Now he was something different. And the brother who vowed to protect him was off protecting a weak human instead. When it came to survival, Knives was alone.
There were only two humans he had any sort of meaningful contact with. Mostly, he dealt with the doctor. The man was small, but sharp. Knives could see through his protective cloak of naivete. The man knew that Knives was anything but domesticated. He gave Knives a wide berth in all things, physically and mentally. He didn't push Knives toward one conclusion or another. He didn't fight with Knives, either. Doc was the passive, calm center of the universe it seemed.
The other one was Milly. He didn't know how to deal with her very well. Their last interaction had been strained and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. All Knives knew was that her naivete wasn't a mask. He didn't know if he found this endearing or frustrating. She didn't understand anything that was happening to Knives, but she still appeared compassionate, and he was beginning to think that this had very little to do with her loyalty to Vash and very much to do with her nature. Milly fawned over the silent little orphan who tagged along with her like she was Milly's own flesh and blood. Knives didn't understand how or why she would want to do that.
She was beginning to remind him a lot of his brother.
After the installation with Doc was complete, he made his way out to the upper decks. Milly and the orphan generally stayed near the solarium. On this particular deck it was almost deserted. (Many of the residents on this dec had been killed when he had ordered Leonov and Grey onto the ship.) Though a seemingly bright and cheerful place, the other residents of the ship steered clear. Milly chose to hang out here because the orphan liked it quiet.
Hell, what did he know. Maybe Milly liked the quiet. Maybe he was completely wrong and somehow she was just a self-serving, conceited human like all the rest of them.
The thought filled him with comfort and sadness at the same time.
When he got to the solarium, he saw that the two were going to eat lunch soon. Two trays from the cafeteria sat untouched on the table. On the floor, the orphan was finishing a drawing. Milly was looking over the ledge at the sea of sand below, lost in thought. When she heard him making his approach, she looked up quickly.
The sad look in her eyes was not the naive gaze he had become accustom to. However, a moment later, the look was gone and she offered him a smile instead.
He found the sudden transition a little troubling, like she was hiding something. That did not reassure him. Milly returned her gaze to the desert below as Knives cautiously made his way towards her. Milly turned her face towards him and gave him a questioning look. He suddenly was unsure of why he was there. He mirrored her stance and stared out over the desert.
"Sometimes it amazes me what we can survive," Milly said quietly, breaking the silence. Knives noted her use of "we," but didn't protest.
He was slow to respond. "Sometimes it makes me wonder," he stated slowly, "why we even try."
Milly looked over at him and gave him an appraising look before speaking. "Why would you say that?" she asked honestly.
Why would he say that? He knew logically that it was only natural for life to fight for its survival. What was his point? He looked around, searching for an answer and his eyes landed on the girl on the floor. "Take the orphan," he said offhandedly. "She has lost her family, her home, her peace of mind. God knows what else has happened to her..."
Milly abruptly shushed him, and he lowered his voice.
"I mean, why does she go on? She has nothing left. Doesn't it make more sense to put her out of her misery? She is only a burden on others now. Isn't it logical just looking at the scarcity of resources to eliminate her? I don't know," he offhandedly stated, "she could be useful, maybe to science that way." He looked down and saw Milly's somewhat horrified gaze. "Am I wrong?" he asked defensively.
"Of course you're wrong! She's not miserable. And she's not a burden. She's a living, growing, changing human being." she sternly stated. "Why do keep going? It's the same reason she does."
"Because there's only one alternative?" he asked, half jokingly.
"It's because we never know what is going to happen next. We never know the future. And we want to know," she said quietly as if all of this were self-evident, looking at him intently. "Don't you want to know what will happen next?" she asked, sounding concerned.
Knives turned around and leaned on his elbows, looking outside again. He thought about a lot of things. He thought about how he had gotten to this point. He thought about how tired he was of living in fear: fear of the unknown, fear of what the humans would do to him if they got a hold of him, fear of what they would do to his brother. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going to happen next.
"Honestly?" he asked quietly. "I don't know."
Just then, the quiet sound of scribbling stopped and he heard small footsteps coming towards them. He looked over his shoulder, disinterested. Milly gave him another concerned look, then turned her attention to the girl. "What have you got here?" Milly bent down to hear her response.
The orphan whispered something in Milly's ear.
"Your family?" The girl looked bashfully away from the two adults as Milly looked over the drawing. "Why, this is a fine drawing! I couldn't make one better myself!"
The orphan whispered something else in Milly's ear.
"I can see that. It even looks like him! And I see Meryl and Doc... Good job, Lil! Look Knives!"
Knives looked over, still with a disinterested gaze. All he saw were blobs of color. If he used his imagination, he could tell who the people were meant to be. The short one with the black blob for a head was clearly the Meryl woman. The other short figure had to be Doc. Milly was the light brown blob with blue dots for eyes. And there was a tall figure with a yellow blob for a head. For some reason, this made him irritated.
"Of course Vash made the cut," he scoffed slightly to himself, unsure of why this made him feel jealous.
Milly looked confused. "But...Mr. Vash isn't in this picture... He has black hair now, remember?"
Knives remembered as a sense of guilt enveloped him. The decay, he had forgotten. His twin had lived over a century with blond hair and it was the way he thought of Vash even now. But then who...
"That's," Milly started cautiously, "you."
Knives stared at the picture, dumbfounded. Wasn't this of...her family? Milly began pointing out details, but he wasn't listening. He was thinking of his own family: a dead woman, a dead sister, and a dying brother. Why would this girl...this orphan...this burden... She has no family, he thought. Didn't she know that? He couldn't be part of her family. He had just been talking about killing her. He had just been talking...about killing...
Knives looked down at Lil and suddenly had a vision of her floating in a human-sized specimen jar. And then it wasn't Lil, but Tessla floating there, gutted, eyes and brain floating in a separate specimen container.
He suddenly felt...suddenly felt... He couldn't feel this. He had to push it back, hold it back.
Knives turned around quickly and with long strides began walking away. Suddenly, he heard small footsteps after him and a tug on his hand. He stopped and looked down. It was the orphan with her drawing. She was holding her drawing up for him to take. He reached down, almost in a dreamlike state, and took the picture. The colored blobs, what they represented, seemed unreal. This whole situation seemed unreal...
And with that thought, Knives promptly lost consciousness and fell to the floor.
A/N: Ahh...a short chapter...just to prove the story is still alive and that I'm alive! You know you have waited too long to post when you have to go back and reread parts of your own story to remember where you are... Hopefully I will be posting more later this week. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!