I'm made some decisions, dear readers, and I've come to a slightly sad conclusion: I cannot write a plot for this. It's just not coming. Everything I can think of has been done to death, in much better prose than my own. Do not fret! I will continue this. But please, don't look for plot. It may seem to be there, but it lies. :) Instead, this will be more Drabble-y and laid back, with very little conflict. Right now I'm still setting up the premise, basically, but things will become much shorter from here on out. :) I hope to doesn't disappoint you too much, but it's just the way things have to be. I hope you continue to read, though, and I look forward to future reviews. :)

Five days had passed since Vash and his brother's return. Nothing had changed, really, but nothing was the same. The recent heat wave had gone back to the hellish place it came from, but the still-hot air ruffled everyone's sunburned skin. Tension ran high, and livestock deaths were finally be tallied.

This particular day was significant. Today, someone in a long slumber awoke.

The world was a mottled grey color. No,- More of a sensation than a color. A grey sensation...

Someone was humming. Not very loud, but more within themselves. It wasn't happy, though. The thing that was humming, that is. It was miserable. Trying to be happy.

The corner of a mouth went up, characteristically. The thing that was humming was lying to everyone, including itself. That was very, very amusing.

Knives lay inside himself for several hours. He was finally at least semi-conscious, and was busying himself with taking stock of the damage to his body, and mending it. When he tired of the concentration of healing, he was amused with the thoughts of what he could now positively identify as a human. It was female. Not that he cared. He hadn't the strength to scan her memories to find how she was connected to his brother, but he knew she was. And he would be sure to kill her as soon as he could.

Actually, he didn't have strength for much. Three emotions dominated all others: Pain. Rage. Amusement. He wasn't quite sure why he was amused, but he reasoned that he must be drugged with something- something that he would fight as soon as he could. At the moment however, he could feel it keep his pain at bay. And that wasn't at all unpleasant. It was impairing his thinking processes, however. Waves of fondness kept washing over him. Fondness for no one in particular, just a general love for the world...What was he thinking?

The feelings of fondness quickly evaporated into panic and loathing, mixing into a terrible combination. Who had drugged him? Why? Where were they, so he could quickly rip their throats out?

He breathed heavily for some time, until the panic and rage subsided, forcing himself to think. Think. Think. Think. Think...

He passed out.

Milly paused from her quiet humming to look closely at her patient. "Mr. Knives?" She asked softly, standing up and craning over his still body. But the change in his breathing that had alerted her fell back into a a steady, rhythmic pattern, and she sat back in her chair. She smiled at him, beaming all sorts of happy thoughts in his direction. It helped her stay positive, but she could feel her mask slipping now and again. 'Nothing ever good comes from dwelling on sad things, Milly', she scolded herself. 'Besides, Mr. Knives and Mr. Vash and all the orphans need your help. What do you think you're going to do with yourself if you're a gloomy-puss all the time?'

It was hard. So very hard. As much as she wanted to help everyone, and be happy, there was another little voice in the back of her head, the one that whispered, 'You're helping the man that ordered Nicholas killed? You're going to let him live? You have everything you could ever want to make his life end. No one would even have to know'

"I WOULD KNOW!" Milly stood, quivering, little tears of frustration and sadness welling out her large, blue eyes. "There's always another way," she said to no one in particular, in a slightly steadier voice.

I would know.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and sat back down.

I vote Milly as the person most in need of a therapist in the Trigun universe! Poor girl.

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