Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Life Thereafter ❯ Grey ( Chapter 29 )

Disclaimer: How I wish I owned Trigun. Sadly, I own it not.

 

A/N: I liiiiiiiiiiive! And (more importantly) the STORY lives! XD

 

Yes, my friends. It's true. I have returned from my long hiatus (which I am EXTREMELY sorry for, so please don't kill me), and now nothing will stop me from completing this fic! NOTHING! So, sit back and enjoy the show. After all, only 6 more chapters to go until the end…

 

Oh, and I apologize in advance if this chapter is not as good quality as my previous ones. I have been on hiatus after all…

 

 

Grey

 

Knives grimaced as he checked the time. He had stayed up all night yet again. Still, he could not drag himself away from the computers, it seemed. Too much was left to be done, especially considering what he had learned.

Glancing at the computer screen, Knives minimized the documents he had been viewing and brought up the security system. Since the unexpected intrusion of that human who called himself Brilliant Dynamites Neon, Knives had been checking the surveillance devices every couple hours, just in case the arrogant bastard decided to return or, if not him, someone else.

He frowned, tapping his finger lightly on the keyboard. Perhaps he should check to see what his brother and his pet were up to. As far as he knew, Vash had not awakened yet, and that human had been with him ever since the procedure.

Pursing his lips, Knives stood, raking one hand through his cropped, platinum blond hair, as he stalked out of his room, hands clenched within his pockets.

Knives's brow furrowed, his lips pursed as he reclined back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He blinked rapidly, his eyes watering before he wiped them roughly. He had been staring at the computer screen for hours, and it was beginning to take a toll on him. Still, his presence here was necessary. Knives rubbed his temple, feeling weary despite himself. After all, the past couple days had been rather stressful, even though he had distanced himself from it as much as possible after the initial…confrontation.

The chair creaked a bit beneath him, and he cocked a brow. He probably should not have been surprised. This particular piece was perhaps as old as he was. It had been re-upholstered several times since Knives could not bring himself to part with it. Or rather, he did not want to replace it with some shoddily-made human contraption. In all things, Knives demanded the best, which was one of the reasons why he would not tolerate failure.

In any case, it was getting rather late. There was still so much left to do, though. While Vash's physical ailment had been solved, it now seemed that there was something more pressing to be concerned about now.

Frowning, Knives brought up the security video of the medical bay. He leaned forward, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. He narrowed his eyes at the sight that greeted him. Naturally, Vash was still by her side. Knives glared at her through the glowing display. How he wished he had killed her when he had had the chance. Of course, Vash had nearly finished her off himself, but then the fool had lost his nerve.

Knives's gut wrenched with disgust at the look on his younger brother's face, the same face that had spurned him a few days ago when he had first entered the room. It was maddening. There was no other word for this. He was being rejected by his own twin for a human whose life was many times shorter than their own. That fact left a bitter taste on his tongue, a flavor that was sour and burned like bile.

The ship was cold and empty, his footsteps echoing loudly, yet that did not bother Knives in the least. He preferred solitude, a certain facet of his personality which he had discovered while recovering from the incident at July. Certainly Legato had tended to him at times, bringing news and sometimes brief conversations. However, Knives preferred his own company most of the time although his sisters were calming and pleasant company.

Creating an Eden only for himself, Vash, and their siblings had proven to be quite difficult. Rem's interference had been unexpected yet easily dealt with. Then Vash had turned on him, which had caused “sibling warfare,” so to speak, over the past century. How Vash had won their last battle, Knives did not know. The only conclusion he could come to was that it had been some sort of fluke or extreme good luck on Vash's part. In all honesty, what were the chances that the priest's Cross Punisher would be right there at that precise moment?

He paused, his lips curving into a grimace. And now there was the “hair-darkening effect,” as I had been called in the files he had read, to be concerned about. He had been searching for a way to reverse the process with no success so far.

Knives jerked his head up, his thoughts jarred sharply by the sound of a scream. His eyes widened in recognition.

“Vash…” he muttered before taking off down the hallway, his face grim.

Revolted, Knives closed down the window, unable to take the pitiful look on Vash's face anymore. Leaning back in his chair again, his expression darkened as he folded his arms over his chest. While he knew Vash was pained by the fact that he had stabbed his pet, Knives felt very little inclination to comfort him. After all, nothing he said would make Vash feel better about it. If anything, what Knives had to say would make things worse.

When Knives had first arrived at the scene, he had not felt shocked. Surprised, yes, but he had recovered quickly enough. He had spoken to his brother calmly and rationally, telling him that everything would be alright. But the fool had refused to listen to him. All Vash thought about was his precious pet, and finally, it had become clear that Vash did not want Knives there.

This was for several reasons, the most important being that Knives had wanted that piece of filth dead for a long time. Vash was not so much an idiot that he would forget that. So, Knives had left his brother alone with the vermin, seething internally when he was not busy researching the hair-darkening effect.

Knives sat there for a few moments, allowing the tension to leave his muscles before he places his hands back on the keyboard. Finding a way to reverse the hair-darkening effect was more important now than dwelling on Vash's idiotic behavior. He would deal with that in due time.

His brow furrowed once more as he considered his options. Knives had already scanned the majority of the database held by this ship, but no records had been found that suggested it was possible to reverse the hair-darkening effect. Even though he could not see it, Knives was always conscious of the small black streak in his own hair, as well as the significantly larger mass of black hair that Vash had acquired during his sickness.

Perhaps it is time to search for another source.

He thought about this for a moment before deciding. Gunsmoke had a network of satellites, that much Knives knew. It was very likely that important records were stored there, including more detailed information on Plants and experiments done by humans in recent years. The last time Knives had bothered to check it had been approximately fifty years ago so it was safe to assume that some things had changed.

Satisfied with that choice, he smirked and began to type.

Knives skidded to a halt outside of the door. It slid open easily before him, and he walked through, his gaze shifting back and forth. The scream had died down a few moments before he had arrived, and now it looked like there was no one here. However, something caught his attention as he scrutinized the room further: crimson liquid staining Vash's bed.

“…hugh…”

Knives blinked and stepped around the bed. His eyes widened at the sight of blood smeared across the previously sterile floor, tangled red sheets pulled over to one side of the bed as Vash crouched over the female's form, one arm around her shoulders cradling her, the other pressed against her belly, blood oozing between his fingertips.

Vash looked up, shock and horror etched upon his face as if carved there with a jagged knife. “What...what have I done?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Access denied.”

Knives frowned, becoming irritable with the firewall the humans had set up around their archives. Normally, Knives could not have cared less about these files, but now that it came down to it, they mattered. And he was not about to let humans stand in his way, in any shape, form, or fashion.

He typed in password after password, determined to crack the code. Finally, after an hour of cursing humans and the rapid clacking of computer keys, Knives smirked at his success. Cocking a brow, he was surprised at the password that had been chosen: “ESHIP.” It was an odd choice, to be sure, but no matter. Inspecting the different categories, he chose the file on Plants.

Knives pursed his lips. There was nothing here that he did not already know. Then, one file caught his eye. Opening it, Knives skimmed and then he drew in his breath sharply. He began to read aloud to himself, his voice harsh.

“In the city of December, leading advocate for Plant's rights and engineer Samuel Johnson conducted an experiment today upon a Plant on the verge of being put through the process known as the Last Run. His attempt to fuse a healthy Plant with the sickly one was a failure, but theoretically, the effect of such a fusion would be to prolong the Plant's life even though the black hair did not disappear. Johnson was…”

Leaning back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face, Knives considered this. If this was true, then there was a way to prevent further decay, by utilizing the sisters. It was a drastic measure but certainly not one Knives would discard. Then, out of a whim, he began to scan current events, callously amused when he saw that the federal government was searching for Vash, determined to bring him in. The very thought of it made him laugh.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Knives sat up as a transmission suddenly entered the database. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and opened it before it could be redirected down to its target location. His expression darkened as he read the message.

“Dear Comrades..... A century has passed. We are pleased that we may again recognize each other's existence.”

The meaning of that short, yet profound, message was clear.

Scum… Too clever… You expect me to tolerate even more of you? Knives hissed. Just try it sinners. I'll cut you right out of the sky.

Feeling outright livid, Knives nevertheless resumed researching the hair-darkening effect. More than ever now, Knives would need more power than he possessed. And at the moment, he could think of only one way to obtain it.

 

 

“What…what have I done?”

Those harsh words repeated in his mind, over and over again, an echo that would not fade away into nothing. He wished it would, but at the same time, he did not because he knew that he deserved this. After all this time, after everything that had happened, he was still the same troublemaker he had always been, the same person who brought chaos, sorrow, and death, not only to those around him, but especially to the ones closest to him.

Why? Why have I been cursed like this?

Vash shook his head, his eyes blurring from lack of sleep. He stared at her still form, her chest rising and falling slowly. His only comfort was that the movement was steady. Meryl would recover physically, but now Vash had his doubts that she would recuperate fully in other areas.

“I'm…so sorry…Meryl…so sorry…” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Bowing his head, the hard stool Meryl had once occupied beneath him, Vash knew he did not deserve forgiveness for this. She had forgiven him so many times before…for everything. Meryl had not exactly said that she had forgiven him, but he could see it in the way she looked at him, the way she had cared for him when he had been ill.

And what have I done to repay her? Dragged her along with me even though I knew Knives was set on killing her. Let her suffer along with me as I deteriorated when I knew how much it pained her. And now…now…

Glancing down at his right arm, Vash pulled up the sleeve of his baggy, pajama shirt. His skin, crisscrossed with scars, bore no more signs of feathers. He had been cured. It was something he should be thankful for, but somehow Vash could not bring himself to take any joy in the fact that he was no longer dying. Vash's recovery was overshadowed by what he had done.

Vash shook, holding Meryl closer to him, afraid that if he let go, she would slip from his fingers. There was blood everywhere, and even though Vash had seen a lot of blood in his long life, the fact that all of this was Meryl's blood made things that much worse. Not too far away, Vash had dropped the bloody knife, its blade gleaming wickedly in the artificial lighting.

He was vaguely aware of the door to the medical bay sliding open and approaching footsteps. Vash tried to speak, but only a strangled noise came out. The part of him that was calm and rational told him that he was in shock and that he needed to do something other than put pressure on the wound. The other part of him, the irrational part, was screaming bloody murder at him, chaotic emotions swirling through him.

“What…what have I done?”

Vash looked up, he gaze greeted by Knives standing over him, an inscrutable look on his face. Vash stared back at him, his mind blank. His older brother watched him for a few more moments before crouching down in front of Vash, his eyes bright.

“How did this happen?”

His eyes burning, Vash wiped them roughly. He could not remember the last time he had slept. Vash realized wryly that he probably had not slept since waking up a few days ago to Meryl's blood all over his hands. He stared at them, the crimson long since washed away, but in some ways, it felt like the stain would never go away. After all, it was not just Meryl's blood on his hands. There were others, countless others.

Vash sighed. I keep on thinking about these things. All of my failures. All of the times when those I care about have suffered. All of the things I regret. But, in the end, what good does this do? I really don't know.

Running his right hand absentmindedly through his hair, still unruly and long, Vash fingered the area where he knew the black hairs must be, the result of his long infirmity. They were permanent, he knew. The black of decay would never go away, and if Vash had it his way, he would never use his Angel Arm again. But, Vash also understood the painful truth that he would more than likely have to use that power again. And, as he stared worriedly at Meryl's pale face, he did not want her to get involved but had no idea how to keep her out of the middle of it.

Knives won't leave her alone. I know that now, Vash thought dismally. The only question now is what I intend to do about it.

Vash shook his head. No matter what he did, it always seemed like he took one step forward for every two steps back. And, Knives always seemed to be the root cause of his problems.

“I…I was having a nightmare…”

Knives's brow furrowed. “About what?”

Vash swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “About…about Rem…after…after what we saw…”

His brother stared at him expressionlessly. Vash wished Knives would say something. The silence was killing him, and the look on Knives's face was unnerving, as though he was resisting the urge to do something. When he finally spoke again, his tone was cold.

“You mean after we learned the truth, Vash? After you stabbed Rem, the only sensible thing you've ever done in your life? You had a dream about that?”

Vash flinched at the venom in Knives's tone. “Yes…”

“I see…”

The entire situation was making Vash feel extremely edgy. Not only was he at the breaking point emotionally, but he felt as though Meryl's life was fading away while he was just sitting here doing nothing. Vash lay Meryl carefully down, his hands shaking as he tore a strip of his sheets off and wrapped it around the wound before staggering to his feet, still weak. His eyes widened with shock when he felt strong hands grasping his shoulders.

“Kn-Knives? What are you-?”

Knives smiled. “Can't I even help my own brother?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Vash looked down at Meryl, and his heartbeat quickened with alarm at the site of her. She was a wreck, her clothing soaked through with her own blood, and Vash winced when he recognized that he looked the same. He was about to bend down and pick her up when Knives's hand tightened around him. Vash stopped, dread rising within him.

“Leave her, Vash.”

Leaning forward, his elbows sinking into the mattress, Vash rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes. Images began to flash before him in his mind's eyes, of people, places, and things he had done over all of the years he had wandered this desert planet. He snapped them open, nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of them all.

Throughout the last thirty years of his life, particularly after July, Vash had roamed across the treacherous landscape of Gunsmoke, chased by bounty hunters, braving the elements, making new friends and enemies, and in the end, leaving those people he had met. If anything, those people had provided a small relief from his lonely existence, a life cut off from the only family member he had because of their own wildly different views.

At the time, when he was alone, Vash had disliked the way things were because he was always leaving those he cared about, not to mention millions of double dollars worth of damage, thanks to bounty hunters, behind him. But now, as he thought back on it, Vash wished for those days again even though he knew that they were gone forever, he would always remember those days. How could he forget when signs of them were carved into his skin?

Just like these past several weeks have been carved into Meryl, Vash thought bleakly, remembering the scars he had seen upon her small form when he had helped to clean and dress her wounds.

Vash stared at Knives in horror. Leave her? Vash certainly was NOT going to leave Meryl! What the hell was Knives thinking? The fact that he would even CONSIDER that Vash would just let Meryl die was…was…

“What…did you say?” Vash asked hoarsely, his voice quivering.

Knives looked at his brother appraisingly. “Leave her. She is a lost cause.”

“Knives, what the hell are you saying to me?” Vash shouted, near hysterics at this point, panting loudly, his eyes wild. “You want me to just let her DIE?”

Knives's fingers constricted, causing Vash to wince. “Naturally,” Knives said simply, calm and rational. “My policy towards humans has not changed, Vash, and it never will. Why should I make an exception for your pet? I once made that mistake with Rem, and I will not do so again.”

Vash sagged backwards against his brother, his thoughts whirling. He could not get into this debate now. He had neither the strength nor with willpower to do so. He needed time to think, but he was not likely to get that. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting an answer to come.

“Leave her.”

Those two words…so final… Vash thought. That's the only option he's giving me. But…

Vash pulled insistently away from Knives, who released him. Turning to face his older twin, Knives stared back at him, the look on his face unreadable. They stood there for a few moments. Then, Vash slowly shook his head. Knives's eyes narrowed.

“I won't,” Vash said softly.

There was a long pause. Then…

“You won't?” Knives repeated.

Vash said nothing. Knives's expression darkened.

“And just how long do you think this pathetic little infatuation of yours will last?” he asked scornfully. “Do you expect that inferior creature to continue this charade after what you've done?”

“Get out.”

“You're such a fool!”

“Get. OUT.”

Knives stared at Vash, his face inscrutable, even though Vash could feel the tension broiling beneath his outwardly calm exterior. Then, without another word, Knives turned and stalked from the room.

After that, Vash had begun the long process of caring for Meryl's injury. Her clothes and his had been completely ruined so he had had to rummage through the belongings that Meryl had brought with her. Staring at her once more, Vash felt a pang of guilt for the danger he had put her in. It made no difference that she had insisted upon coming of her own free will. That was not the point.

Damnit, Meryl! Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't you have stayed with Millie? Why did you have to follow me? Again?

Vash looked away. He knew why. For him to even ask himself that question and honestly not know the answer would have been disgraceful. No, even worse, it would have been inhumane.

Hunching over, Vash wrapped his arms more tightly about himself. She doesn't deserve this. I know that. I KNEW that things would be hard for her when she came. Why did I let her come? Why?

He looked up, his eyes widening. Could I…do I…?

Vash stared at Meryl for a long time, his mind numb. Feelings like these, he was not supposed to have them. It was too dangerous. He had told himself this almost every single day of his life since he had shot Knives in the leg and run off with the two guns. Vash had chased after women's skirts and acted like a complete goofball all those years, not only as a way to hide what he really felt, but to make it seem like (if to no one else but himself) that he had a normal life. Plus, his antics had tended to chase women away, and Vash knew deep down that he did it deliberately to distance himself from people whom Vash knew Knives could and would use against him.

But…

Meryl had never left his side. She had doggedly followed him even when Vash had tried to slip away from her. Even though she had been through so much even before Vash had brought Knives home, she had refused to leave. At first Vash had thought that she would not leave was because she was too damn stubborn to take the hint that her life was more important than her life. But, now he saw that it was something more…

Maybe, if for no other reason, that's why…

Vash looked away, his expression sad. But all of that did not really matter anymore, did it? No, it would never work. It was not possible. He wished it was, but wishes got him nowhere. They never had. Plus, there was no way Meryl would want anything to do with him after this. And even if she did, Vash could not bear the thought of losing someone else close to him and especially not her.

So, Vash decided. When she woke up, he would tell her to return to Bernardelli and forget him. After all, nothing good would ever come of her being with him. That much was clear.

I don't want her to leave. But…for me to let Meryl stay here would be far worse for her than it would be for me if she left. So…

“…mmph…”

Vash jerked his head around, his gaze zeroing in on a pair of grey eyes framed by messy black hair. His heart felt like it was being torn in two directions, one half wanting to celebrate the fact that she was alive and going to be alright, and the other part depressed and gloomy because he knew he would have to send her away, not to mention the fact that she probably hated him now.

I should say something…anything…

But the words would not come.

 

 

You know, after much thought and careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that I am evil. I mean, look at all the cliffhangers I write…nasty ones, too.

Knives: You only figured this out now? You're more of a fool than I thought!

-grins- Knives is still mad at me for leaving him in the mud hole with Kuroneko-zilla for a month.

Knives: -mutters-

Awwww! -pats Knives on the head- It'll be ok!

Knives: -is covered from head to toe with bandages- I hate you.

I love you.

Knives: . . . .

Heeheehee… Anyway, REVIEW now please! XD