Chapter Text
Legato opens his eyes, blinking blearily at the light crawling forth from the windows. The patterns of swirling dust cast into sight by the sunbeams are hypnotizing to his sluggish mind. After a long while of contemplation he pulls his eyes away from the beams of light towards the reason for his awakening. Knives stood proudly a few feet away, speaking with the Doctor that had seen to his examination. He had been nice, if a bit slow on the uptake.
"If you insist, I suppose I have no reason to..." The man was saying, voice fading in and out as the lights begin to draw his attention once more. Had the world always been so light and colorful?
"I assure you, he is in fine hands." Knives voice cuts through the fog and draws his gaze. A smile tugs upon his lips when the man glances at him.
The two continue talking for a while, but Legato does not feel the need to listen. More pressing things, such as the pleasant tingling beginning to dance up and down his numb legs, drew his mind. Sinking into the plush sheets, woven and soft against his bare hands. It was presently warm and he finds his eyes growing heavy against despite only just waking.
"Legato." Knives smooth voice draws his eyes open through the heavy fog upon his mind, "We are leaving now."
He feels a cool arm slip under his shoulders and is brought into a sitting position. The movement makes the room seem to shimmer as if an illusion. A feeble attempt is made on his part to move, but ultimatly he is maneuvered into a wheel chair entirely by Knives. The most he can manage in the end is keeping his head up, and eyes open.
"How do you feel?"
His eyes meet Knives and his throat tightens at the unbelievable sight. Knives is knelt before him, adjusting a knit lilac blanket atop his lap, light hands moving with a delicate grace befitting of passing clouds before a lighting storm. One of which he cannot recall seeing from Knives. His eyes now focus upon the mans face. Admiring the long silvery lashes that frame pale blue eyes, casting shadows upon his sharp cheekbones and singular beauty mark under his eye on otherwise pale skin. All words are forgotten and an overwhelming feeling of admiration brings tears to his eyes. So many times he had looked up at Knives, gazed upon those cold, uncaring eyes and been grateful to even be seen. Now he was considered an equal before a calamity. No longer required to serve so much as to accompany, to stand by his side when all others, even his own brother, had balked. Such an honor was one he had not even the wherewithal to strive for, let alone attain.
"Legato, are you in pain again?" Knives asks, soft and concerned as a cold hand wipes away tears from his cheek, "I can administer medicine at your discretion but you must tell me when you are in pain, Legato."
"I am not in pain, Sir." Legato answers, lowering his eyes to his lap. Unable to continue to behold such gifts in his state.
"Very well." He watches Knives stand and move around him. Chair jolting forward as Knives takes the handles and begins to push, "We are going to meet with Vash and Wolfwood, assess or situation and choose out next destination."
"May I request a brief meal before we depart." Legato asks, "They only gave me soup."
"Dreadful. I will have Wolfwood procure some fresh food upon returning."
"Thank you, sir."
Legato's blinks blearily, almost entirely unseeing at the world around him as Knives pushes him through the halls of the hospital. Now his entire body was warm and all his limbs were abuzz with a pleasant feeling not unlike the hum of electricity. It was reminiscent of his time on the ARK, when Vash was not struggling and he was resting from his many arduous tasks. The air upin the ARK was always like that of a lightning storm dancing upon his skin, now the sensation was penetrating deep into his muscles and marrow. Running through his blood is thick, heavy streams that soothed the raw nerves deep within.
It feels like he had only blinked twice before his chair stops and he finds himself inside another room, all brown and so much unlike the bright hospital. It seems Knives had parked his chair with a window to his back. It could only explain the strange heat he felt building upon his head and shoulders. To his right a radio is playing a soft piano melody, and he runs his fingers over the knited blanket in his lap as the sounds of conversation drift towards him.
"-Still have the plant?"
"Figured it was better to kill two birds with one stone." Wolfwood says as he straps the Pod to his body, "What about him?"
"There is no need to worry about him." Knives replies, "I'll be taking care of it."
"Right." Wolfwood sighs then leans against a desk, "We were at the bar last night and overheard some guys mention that a group of folks came in from New Miami, could head that way next."
"New Miami is three weeks away with that truck in the best of weather. We are better off focusing on satellite cities instead of-"
Legato gasps moments before all the muscles in his body seize. For a moment all he can comprehend is his own heart pounding in his chest before the room begins turn sideways. The warmth in his body transforms into a wave of searing heat pulsing forth from the base of spine. It becomes dark for a moment and then he is staring up at Knives face. The world, once pleasantly blurry is now sharp and vibrant. The red of Knives jacket makes his eyes itch and burn, and though he tries to look into his eyes for relief the pale blue on brings a pulsing behind his eyelids that grows stronger each second he stares.
"Wolfwood there's medicine in that bag on his wheelchair. Get me two milligrams of morphine in a needle." Knives words cut through the waves of agony, "Legato, can you hear me?"
Hot prongs of fire weave up and down his limbs and he feels every muscle in his body clench at once. His eyes are now locked onto Knives, unable to close no matter how hard he tries to. A strangled noise leaving his lips as his back arches off the floor. Distantly he can feel something hitting the back of his legs.
"Knives what the hell is this?" Wolfwood yells, drawing Knives attention away from him and giving him momentary respite from the pulsing pain, "You can steal money and clothes but medicine? People out there need this more than-"
"Enough." Knives snaps, voice so commanding it sends a cold wave of fear through his heated body, "We can do this later if you insist on-"
Knives is cut short when Legato's knee jerks forward and smashes into his side. A short cry that barely sounds like his own escapes his lips. The vibrations of his throat and sound upon his ears are overwhelming and monstrous.
"Vash, hold his legs down before he hurts himself." Knives orders, brushing Legato's twitching leg aside and pressing his cool palms against his heated cheeks. The sensation provides momentarily relief before a new sensation of agony, like boiling water on only cold begins to sink into his cheeks. Knives' lips move but all sound dies at the distant sensation of hands upon him.
His eyes dart down, panic seizing control of his sense at the sight of unfamiliar hands grabbing hold of his uncontrollably thrashing legs. The red sears his eyes and Legato cannot breath. He starts to suffocate as the hands push him down. They always push him down no matter how hard he thrashes and protests. He has no control. There is no control to have. He tries to beg for them to stop, to let him go, but nothing seems to escape his mouth except for guttural gasps for air and mercy.
Memories, buried deep and forces away claw their to the surface. A pain deeper than the burning of his flesh and bones tears at the edge of his conscious. He gives in to the panic and fury. Allowing his world to descend into darkness and all his fear to press outwards. Visions begin to play upon his eyes. His aggressors, the animals that preyed upon him, appear. Half forgotten, rotted faces and putrid bodies. He casts these visions out. Forces them away and into the bodies around him.
"Wolfwood hold him down so I can give him the shot."
Two hands take his shoulders and press him to the floor. Warm glass thrumming with energy touches his head. Something is in there. He can feel a small signal in the noise and latches onto it. Broadcasting pain and fear into the connection, only to be met with a warm beams of mercy.
There are no words exchanged between him and the infantile Plant. For a fleeting moment he sees outside of its eyes. He sees the world through a warped bubble as one single moment. He sees himself on the floor, eyes rolled back into his head and limbs splayed about mid movement. Vash is directly before him, sat upon the ground as if he had fallen. His eyes and cheeks were wet with tears and wide with horror. A gloved hand placed over his mouth to muffle a scream. Knives was in the middle of casting a rageful look at Wolfwood, bright eyes filled with anger and worry.
Legato then connects to the Plant completely, and his vision extends beyond the childs eyes. His mind fractures a thousand different ways as an assault of low humming songs crashes over his consciousness. Every part of his body braces for impact.
Release is brief, and blissful.
Then it is dark.
- - -
The thud of Legato's body on the tiled floor may well have been the last sound in the entire universe.
No one dares to move as the seconds drag by in the somber stillness. Visions of grotesque humanity still fresh in their minds from Legato's panic.
Knives stares at the syringe in his hands, needle only a hair's breadth from piercing Legato's skin.
Vash's sob breaks the silence between them. Small, pitiful, and worst of all; sincere. He lowers the needle and turns his gaze upon the Pod. Tracing his eyes over the large, leaking crack across the front of it.
"What.... what the hell just..." Wolfwood's words are soft, almost frightened. He pulls a hand away from Legato and lays it upon the shattered Pod. Eyes wide and staring forward at nothing, "Jude is gone... I think I felt her die."
Knives closes his eyes and allows the needle to fall from his hands. The weight of death crashing down upon them all. He brings his hands up and presses them against his face, bowing his head as tears begin to leak from his eyes.
"Repeating broadcast." The radios weak signal prevails in the deafening silence, "Earth Defense Force has reestablished contact with Gunsmoke and landed in Octovern with a fleet of ships bringing supplies to all towns with working Plants. If you are in need of aid please make your way to the nearest city with a Plant via Bus or Vehicle provided by the EDF. Further more the Earth Defence Force has put into effect an APB on two wanted Independent Plants known as Vash the Stampede and Millions Knives. Both present male, are 6 feet tall with blue eyes, fair skin, and short black or blonde hair. Often seen wearing a long or short red coat. Vash the Stampede has a mole under their left eye, and Millions Knives has a mole under their right eye. Both are considered extremely dangerous. If you see these Plant's do not engage. Report their whereabouts to the nearest Earth Defence Force operative. Harbouring these Plant's will be considered a crime and violators will be persecuted to the full extent of the law. Other Persons of Interest relating to these Plant's include a man of 6 foot with black hair, large nose, wearing a black suit carrying a large cross. If you see this man report to an Earth Defense Force operative. Repeating broadcast. Earth Defence-"
Knives sends a jolt of energy towards the radio and it promptly explodes. There was no time to mourn over the lost Plant. Taking a deep breath he touches Legato's chest, feeling the thrum of life energy inside of him immediately. Whatever had happened with the Plant had caused rapid assimilation of Legato's cells into hybrid plant-human cells. A process that Wolfwood had been undergoing for the last few months at a much slower pace. Looks like the medicine he took was going to be of little use. He stands, causing Vash to flinch.
"Vash, Wolfwood, switch clothes." He orders, striding to the bags on the floor near the door and stripping his jacket off.
"Why?" Vash asks, voice soft.
"They are looking for a dark haired man in a suit and a man in a long red coat. Unless you want me to shave your heads I suggest switching clothes." He pulls a pair of jeans from the bag before shoving his coat in. Wasting no time he begins to tug his sued red pants off.
"What then?" Vash asks, voice hollow and heavy.
"There is a safe house the Gung-Ho Gang used as a hideout a few miles north of here. It has provisions and a interior well. We can go there for now." Knives says, buttoning the jeans and striding across the room to Legato's wheel chair, grabbing the mans coat from the storage area under the seat and pulling it on. Immediately he is enveloped in the human smell of Legato. He takes a moment and breaths in deeply. Despite the grief and panic of the last few minutes, he is calmed by the familiar sent. Using the lapel of Legato's coat to wipe his tears he steels his will once more.
"Until we get out of town call me Castor and Vash Pollux. Wolfwood you're Ailbe."
"Ailbe?" The man asks and Knives turns to watch him unhook the broken Pod before shrugging off his coat.
"I expect you would have known Saint Ailbe, Patron Saint of Wolves." He replies, reaching over and nabbing the mans sunglasses from his shirt pocket. Knives places them on his face before kneeling to lift Legato into his arms, "Bring only what you wish to keep."
He drapes Legato over his shoulder in order to take his wheel chair down in his other hand, "We will stop at the hospital and return the medicine. I will drive."
- 1 Month After The Events in September -
"I've told you people I don't know where they are." The annoyance in Wolfwood's voice carries down into the depths to the root cellar.
"If you are harboring these Plant's you will be tried under Earth council-"
"I'm from Gunsmoke, I don't give a shit about your earth council." Wolfwood scoffs, earning a light smile, "For the last time, I don't know if they're coming back for me. Honestly you people should be thanking us for all the work we did rebuilding this place when you left it in shambles instead of driving them off like stray dogs."
It is silent for a moment, and Knives opens his eyes. Vash's face was tilted up, barely visible in the low light peaking in from the cracks of the stone slab that seals them inside the ground.
"Yeah, yeah, if I see them I'll tell 'em. Yes I know you just wanna talk. Alright. God bless you."
The door slams and the sound of footsteps above them move across the house towards the kitchen. Vash glances down at him with a somber expression that they held more often than not these days. Knives does not say anything in reply that expression, instead he adjusts his position in their little tomb and closes his eyes once more. Waiting for Legato's whisper in their minds assuring him of safety.
"We cannot go on like this. "
He can feel Vash's body tense at his words, but refuses to look at them.
"What else are we supposed to do?"
"They only want me, not you."
"They want both of us!"
Knives opens his eyes and looks up at his brother, "They want to question you, Vash. It is I they want dead."
"Knives." Vash whispers, reverting to human expression, "You can't leave me..."
"This is not like last time." Knives murmurs, "I am not trying to hurt you, Vash. I want to protect you."
Tears begin to fall from Vash's eyes, running down their cheeks and onto his clothes.
"If they find you-"
"They will not."
Vash sets their jaw and glares at him, "Enough."
Knives argues no further. Instead they sit in thick silence for at least an hour or more until Legato's gentle voice whispers that the coast is clear. Even then Knives only points upward to signal to Vash that it was safe to exit. They crawl out of the hole, placing the stone slab to cover the hideout they had dug out on their first night here. Knives dusts themselves off before ascending the ladder into the kitchen. Wolfwood was pacing the living room, radio playing the latest news from EDF. Knives stays low, ducking under the windows as he makes for the steps. Wolfwood shakes his head to indicate nothing of interest had played. Knives casts his eyes to the radio, then to the empty Pod that stood beside it, glass cracked and shattered.
He turns away from it and moves silently up the staircase and down the hall. Slipping into the one room with the door cracked open.
Sat beside the window, basking in the dying suns rays, was Legato. The knitted blanket was draped over his shoulders, adding little bulk to his slim frame. His hands were folded in his lap, sleeves of his shirt covering his hands up to his palms. Knives skirts around the window and sits upon the bed.
"It is unbecoming of you." Legato murmurs, lips scaresly moving, "To be slinking around in the shadows when you should be walking in the light."
"It cannot be helped." Knives watches Legato's profile from his seat, tracing the silhouette of his jaw against the orange sky behind, "Have they all gone?"
"Yes. All back to the city. Not even a night watch was left." Legato confirms, "Wolfwood adamant insistence seems to have convinced them at last."
"Your performance last night during questioning was just as admirable." Knives praises, "Assuming all our humanitarian efforts are not in vain, it might be enough to sway the EDF to spare me my fate."
"Sir, you are too kind." Legato's hand raises to push a lock of his hair back behind his ear. Knives catches sight of disappointment in his expression.
Knives wonders what it is he had said to earn such a reaction. He fights the anger bubbling inside of himself and instead tries to reach for another way.
"Legato, have I said something you upset you?"
"No, Sir. Not at all." Legato turns to look at him, faux smile tugging at his lips and one visible eyes filled with lies.
Knives takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. There was no need to be angry. Legato had the right to be unhappy with him. In fact there is no soul on this planet that owes him anything save for rage and hatred.
"What did I say." He demands, hands gripping into fists. Cracking the thin scabs across his fingers and pressing the jagged remnants of his nails against his palms, "Do not lie to me again, Legato."
Silence fills in the space between them and he cannot help but open his eyes and look at Legato. Still facing the window. Jaw clenched tight.
"It was not a performance, Sir." Legato finally says, voice cool and without inflection, "When they questioned me I told them exactly what I thought of you."
Knives looks at his hands now. Watches the blood well up from his nail bed and roll down his finger tips.
"Insinuating that you were acting upset you." Knives clarifies, "My word choice was poor."
"Sir... I mean no insult, but that is far from the most upsetting thing that anyone has said to me." Legato says after a extended silence, turning his wheelchair towards the bed, "You have let your brother get to you."
"That is a good thing."
"Not to me." Legato says, standing from the chair and taking the small half step required to sit in the bed, moving his legs under the sheets.
Knives runs his canine over his thumb nail, gnawing on his tender skin with his back to Legato.
"I will be leaving tonight to find a shelter for us." Knives says, taste of blood thick upon his tongue, "It should not take more than a month, two at most."
He hears Legato shuffle behind him so he stands and allows the man to pull the blankets over his body.
"You need not worry." Knives adds, lifting his arm and rolling his sleeve back to manifest a single six inch white bladed feather from his wrist, "I will return to you."
He pushes the tip of the feather into the wooden night stand until it stands up straight. It was blazing white compared to the warm browns and greens of the room. From his pocket he pulls a note addressed to Wolfwood and places it on the night stand as well.
Legato's amber eyes lay upon the feather before shifting to his own. In them he sees something that makes his heart race. Something different than the look he saw on his face when he was knelt over a pile of bodies. Something far away from the echo of Vash and entirely, unmistakably Legato. It made him feel something he had never felt before now. Something familiar just as much as it was foreign. An emotion just barely on the precipice of understanding and unknown. Knives had once wondered if it was possible to experience everything there was to know in a life as long as his own. At the time had doubted that was possible, and now he was sure of it.
Knives turns away from Legato and opens the window. Cool night air rushes to meet him and he drinks it in for a fleeting moment before leaping out. Speading his wings and forcing himself upwards until he can catch an updraft.
There were four places he had in mind, all of them to the north. Weather was far more harsh and unpredictable in the northern hemisphere. Almost entirely unpopulated and uncharted by humans. A safe haven for him and his... and Legato.
- Two weeks after Knives' exit -
Legato falls the the floor again and holds back a sob of pain. Breathing heavily he sits up and drags his legs infront of him. The knees of his jeans grow dark and wet as he rolls them up to look at the beaten and bruised skin. Blood was seeping from the scrapes and falling down the sides of his leg. Sitting completely still he stares at his wound. Watching the flesh slowly knit itself back together of its own accord.
It takes fifteen minutes for his wound to heal into a hefty purple bruise. He runs the tips of his fingers over the smooth skin. It was fascinating how his body would heal cuts but not bruises.
"Legato." Wolfwoods voice sounds from just outside of his door, "You coming to town today?"
"Yes."
"...Do you want any-"
"No. I will be outside." He snaps, pulling his wheelchair over with a thought and pulling himself into the seat. He rolls his jeans down and positions his feet on the footrests before pulling on Knives cropped red jacket. His own was too long to comfortably wear in his wheel chair.
Now that he's presentable he directs himself out of his room and down the steep ramp Wolfwood had built atop the stairs out of scraps of metal and wood.
"Have fun out there." Vash says softly from the kitchen. Legato ignores him as he turns the knobs with a thought and flings the door open.
Wolfwood hardly glances at him as he pushes off the porch support beam and flicks a cigarette butt on the ground. He maneuvers down the short ramp and onto the unforgiving hard packed sand. It takes little effort Legato wheels himself over to the truck and opens the back door with a thought before lifting himself into the truck and collapsing his wheelchair. Pulling it inside and storing it beside him in the back.
The ride is long and silent. Legato stares out the window, watching the sands shift and sway. In the inner most pocket of Knives old coat rested the feather bequeathed to him. It's deadly blade wraped in a thin cloth so its edges may not be known, only its shape. Legato was not worried about Knives, he knew that nothing and no one could ever catch him. What plauged his mind was personal woes.
"Have you been in contact the Double-Fang??" He asks, breaking the hour long silence.
"Not yet, the letter will have reached him by now. If he sent a reply it will be at the post office now. Hell he's probably on his way over now." Wolfwood supplies. For a moment is seems like he is considering saying more, but thankfully he remains silent for the next hour or so until Wolfwood parks the truck in town.
Legato opens the door and maneuvers his wheelchair onto the ground before sliding himself from the truck and into his seat. Once adjusted he rolls back and the truck door closes with a thought. Wolfwood is waiting for him, leaning against the back of the truck Punisher noticeably absent from his slim silhouette.
"I was under the impression you did not go anywhere without your cross." Legato observes, last time they had gone into town Wolfwood had insisted on lugging it around.
"Trying to get used to life without it's weight." Wolfwood says, lighting a cigarette and inhaling, "Want a push?"
"Do not touch me."
Wolfwood shrugs and pushes of the truck, "It would draw less attention."
"They always stare at me, whether I am in my chair or not." Legato stays at Wolfwood's side as they move down the street. Wheels bumping over the cobbled stone.
"I was referring to your chair moving on its own." Wolfwood huffs, "Any EDF goons around?"
Legato sends his energy through the wires, his area of affect now spanned the entire city. Feeling for the slivers of wires he had implanted in the EDF workers that had been to their hideout, "Aside from the workers at the food line they seem to have been called away."
Wolfwood does not reply, but the pensive expression on his face was more than enough to surmise what they are both thinking.
Knives had been spotted out of town somewhere. Legato was entirely certain that Knives had allowed himself to be seen in order to force the EDF to leave their post to pursue him. It made him sick to see how far Vash had pulled Knives from grace. He was out there on the run while Vash had the luxury of peace. It was disgusting.
"Can you hold our spot in line while go to the post office."
"Fine."
Wolfwood strides down the street, leaving him at the end of a long line of people waiting to cash in their ration slips for a few jugs of water and food. The most valuable resource dolled out by the Earthlings by far was earth medicine, and Legato was one of the lucky few that qualified for such goods. Not that he needed them any longer after what Knives and the Plant had done to him. It was for the best anyway. The small tin of compact white capsules he recieved once a week was worth more to people than food or water. With that alone he and Wolfwood had manged to barter fresh eggs, milk, and fresh meat from those that still cared for the remaining livestock.
Legato smiles at the thought of it now. Wolfwood was a well enough cook, but when it came to meats the bastard was going to have to submit to his will. Wolfwood was not going to ruin another cut of meat like last week. Well done... it makes him sick to his stomach at the thought. Tonight he would be making the food.
"Great news, Blue."
"Do not call me that."
"Whatever." Wolfwood dismisses his complaint, souring his mood immediately, "Livio and Elendira started our way the day they got the letter. Had their reply priority sent from Octovern so they should be here tonight."
"And the good news?" Legato asks, earning a short bark of laughter from Wolfwood.
"You are too funny for that shit personality of yours." Wolfwood smiles at him. He does not return it, "The good news for you is they have supplies, including a medical book that should get you on your feet."
Legato does not respond and they fall into silence until the reach the front of the line and exchange their slips for their rations. Legato tucks the tin of medicine into the unoccupied front breast pocket of his coat. Humans rarely changed, and he knew how much of an easy target he looked. Eagerly he starts towards the butcher. Managing to wheel a few feet down the street before Wolfwood grabs the handles of his wheel chair.
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?"
"To rectify your mistake last week."
"Are you seriously still mad about that? I'm sorry I made your steak well done I don't cook that stuff often!" Wolfwood whines before leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Don't forget what we owe."
Legato curses and yanks his wheel chair out of Wolfwoods grasp, soinning to glare at him, "I am no liar like you. They will get what's is theirs, and I will get what's mine."
Wolfwood glares at him, and Legato narrows his eyes, pressing his will upon the wire embedded in the man's brain stem. Imperceptibly, Wolfwood's left pinky twitches. Immeditly the hand clenches into a fist and he pales considerably.
"Be at the truck in an hour or I'm leaving you." Wolfwood growls.
Legato cannot help but smile at his intense anger. Though he decides not to continue to push Wolfwood's temper. Instead he turns away and continues on his way to the butcher. Last week he was promised a choice cut if he delivered to the butcher a full tin of these capsules. A promise he was eager to fulfill.
Less than fourty minutes later he is sitting in the back seat of the truck, staring out the window and tracing his fingers over the wax paper wrapping a cut if filet mignon. Wolfwood was tapping the steering wheel, obviously discontent with the turn of events. Legato does not allow himself to care much for Wolfwood's petty feelings. Instead he fantasies about the steak he is going to cook when he gets back. Mouthwatering at the thought of savory cut of meat, cooked to perfection and melting in his mouth. It had been so long since had such a luxury, and with all of his senses strengthened from Knives blood and the sacrifice of the Plant. Just the thought of it makes him shudder in anticipation. It should be cooked rare- no. Medium-rare was better. Meat was better when it's warm throughout. Like it was fresh off the bone. Just a enough pink in the center with just a touch of blood still leaking out...
A knock on the window rouses him from his thoughts and he blinks to find himself staring at Wolfwood. The man raises his eyebrows and nods at the house. Legato quickly goes through the motions of exiting the truck, eyeing the other vehicle parked haphazardly near the front porch. He wheels his way onto the porch and waits for Wolfwood to open the door. Amused at his struggle in juggling the supplies and trying to open the door. Eventually he gets it open and steps back to allow him to wheel inside.
"Invite yourself in and don't even open the damn door." Wolfwood grumbles, "Liv, Elen?"
"Kitchen!" Vash's annoying voice calls from further into the house. He scowls at the upcoming task of getting them out of there so he could cook in peace.
"Nick!"
Legato carefully wheels out of sight as Livio bursts from the kitchen and rushes to pull Wolfwood into a hug. While he was distracted he rolls into the kitchen. Vash and Elendira are at the table, Vash sitting with his chin resting on his hand, obviously deep in conversation with Elendira and Livio before being interuppted.
"Bluesummers." Elendira accuses, eyes narrowing at him, "You look awful."
He does not deign her with a reply. Instead wheeling over to the cabinets to find the cast iron pan. Once he pulls it out he sets it atop the stove and turns on the burner.
"Are you forgetting something?" Elendira asks, low voice making his eyes twitch in annoyance.
Since he happens to have some time while the pan heats he rounds his chair to face her. She looked healthier than the last time he saw her. Whatever the Eye of Michael did to them had its upsides. Recovering from near death like she did was impressive. Though earth medicine was capable of extraordinary things. He wheels to the table and reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small glass vial. He places it upon the table, not moving his hand as he sets his gaze upon Elendira.
"The book." He demands simply.
Elendira eyes the vial for a moment before reaching inter her bag and pulling out a thick yet tattered hardback book. She sets it on the table just beside the vial, thin hand resting upon the cover unmoving. After a few seconds Legato lifts his hand from the vial, and Elendira lifts her hand as well. Slowly and purposefully he takes the book into his hand as Elendira takes the vial. Looking over it in her slim hands. The instructions were written in small letters along the bottle so he speaks not of how to administer it, but of something far more important.
"You will find what I have given you far outweighs what you have given me." He says, setting the book between his outer thigh and his chair.
"I'll see about that." Elendira scoffs. The chair shrieks as she stands and collects her bag. No other words are exchanged between them as she leaves.
Finally he can focuse on what matters. He rolls his chair up to the stove and places the wrapped steak on the counter before setting his feet on the floor and pushing himself to his feet. With one hand he grabs for one of his crutches, leaning upon it as he looks down at the pan. Though his ability to walk was only half remembered, standing was easy enough with support.
Legato takes a bottle of oil and empties a generous amount into the pan, allowing it to coat the basin. The pan is not quite hot enough, and as he waits for the correct temperature to be reached he generously applies salt and pepper to both sides of his steak. He licks his lips as he places the meat into the pan, smell already assaulting his nose as the oil sizzles happily searing the cut. He laments the lack of herbs and spices in the house, but it cannot be helped.
Patiently he watches the steak sizzle for a minute before flips it to the other side. Smiling at the sight of the lovely golden brown crust. As the other side cooks he lowers the burner and scoops a spoonful of butter from the tin and drops it into the side of the pan. The lowered heat assures that the butter does not burn and only melts into a large pool. He scoops the liquid butter out with the spoon and begins to baste the steak. He waits a few more agonizing minutes before pulling the steak off the pan and onto a plate with a fork and knife. He turns the burner off and sits back into his chair. Placing the single crutch back into its spot on his chair and eagerly taking the the plate into his lap and rolling himself out of the kitchen and up his ramp to his room where he can eat in peace.
He closes the door and rolls over to the window. Wide open as it was the day Knives leapt out, and open it will remain until his master returns. Breathing in the warm outside air he allows himself to relax for a few moments before cutting into his steak. Savoring the savory and salty flavor of the perfectly cooked meat. He stares at the horizon, eyes scanning for a sign of Knives on the horizon. Feather knife pressed against his heart.
- 8 weeks after Knives' exit -
Ice cold wind whips his face and he begins to descend from the skies, wings closing in and body tilting forward into a nose dive. Once he drops a few thousand feet he spreads his wings once more to slow his descent. From this vantage point he can see the safe house as a small speck in the distance. A breath escapes his lips, misting white for a brief second before being snatched away by the winds.
He dives once more, dropping another thousand feet before pulling up again. Hastily making his way towards the house. His arrival is opportune, as the dawn had not yet began to creep across the land. Allowing him the cover of darkness, and a day's rest to look forward to. His travels had forced him to become something of a nocturnal creature. Traveling and gathering information only in the deep shadows of dusk and night. The day time was when he rested, not sleeping, not if he could avoid it, but hidden away unmoving and gathering strength for his nightly flights.
After another hour of flying and descent he can finally grip the open window sill, wings dissolving into a flurry of feathers as he climbs through the window into Legato's room. He pulls the thick goggles up from his eyes and rests them on his forehead. The frozen tips of his hair crunch slightly and he turns to silently slide the window closed. He breaths in deep, drinking in the floral mark of Legato's plant like scent overlayed with his human musk.
He looks around the room, taking note of the wheel chair sat in the far corner along with a strange wooden contraption nailed to the floor in the middle of the room. Two waist high bars of wood are situated a few feet apart, making a sort of tunnel to walk through while gripping the bars. Other than that there was nothing of note in the room. Aside from the bed he had not suffered himself to look upon. He takes a slow breath, steeling his nerves he approaches the bed and looks down upon Legato.
The man was turned away from him, a small mercy as the sight of his face would have wrought undue emotions upon him. Still he finds resolve in the sight of familiar blue hair splayed upon soft brown sheets. Laying upon the pillow besides the man is his singular white feather. He reaches out, brushing a finger down the length and allowing it to dissipate into the air. He would never dare to awaken someone from such a peaceful slumber, let alone his Legato. Once he awoke on his own accord and saw the missing feather and closed window no doubt he would seek him out. Until then he should rest, and enjoy the bed while he still has it.
With black tipped fingers he pulls the lilac blanket up higher upon his shoulders before turning away and silently slinking out of the room. He walks lightly down the steps and follows the light into the kitchen. Sat upon the table, eyes fixed upon the window was his brother. Dressed in a loose white button up and plain black slacks. So unlike their usual attire, yet a comfort to Knives nevertheless.
"I came back." Knives says softly, causing his brother to jump slightly before turning pale eyes upon him, "No one saw-"
His words die on his throat when Vash's arms wrap around him. Knives does not try to keep up appearances any longer. With a deep gasp of a sob he wraps his arms around his brother. Sinking his face into their shoulder and gripping his shirt with fingers blackened from frostbite. Words cannot come to his lips so he communicates in the way of Plants. A deluge of weariness, anguish, and sorrow assault his brother as he relays the findings of his journey. As he sings Vash's arms grip him tighter. Vash does not try to comfort him beyond this, and that is all Knives wishes for the moment. And they stand in the kitchen together until the blush of dawn brightens into a full assult of sunshine on what would be considered a lovely day as far as No Man's Land is concerned.
"I will need to leave under the cover of night." Knives says aloud, words muffled by Vash's shoulder, "Legato is coming with me, if he can bear it."
"He will do anything for you, Knives." Vash replies, voice equally as blocked by his own shoulder.
A great shame wells in him at those words, and he swallows a lump in his throat, "I know."
As if called by name a great clatter descends from the upper floor as the sound of thuds and footsteps approaches. Reluctantly the two pull apart as the blue flash of Legato's hair stops in the doorway. He had dressed himself, hastily judging by the way his hair stuck out at odd angles, and stood with his back straight and forearm crutches to the floor. The sight alone brought more joy to Knives heart and a smile tugs his lips.
"I see you are well, Legato." Knives says, tilting his head to beckon the man forward, "It is good to see you standing."
Legato eagerly steps forward into the room, small but joyful smile upon his face, "I apologize for missing your arrival, Sir."
Vash, proving wit exactly to his years, excuses himself and slips out of the room with little grace. Legato ignores him as one ignores a nagging noise, all attention focused upon himself.
Knives steps towards Legato. Walking a slow circle around him to observe the changes that have taken place in the last two months. His hair was a bit longer, the dark bruises under his dyes had faded, and his tan skin had lost its sallow unhealthy appearance. Replaced by a inner glow that all Plant's possed. He had ever gained a few pounds as evidence by his shirt no longer hanging off of him.
Knives stops circling Legato and faces him, now meeting his amber eyes and trying to discern what he could be thinking. Legato holds his gaze for a few moments before lowering his eyes.
"There is no need to apologize, Legato." He says, admiring the way Legato's eyes flick up to meet his and he revels in the light of joy that appear in their depths, "I dared not disturb your peace."
Legato looks perplexed, and his mouth opens as if to speak before closing once more and lowering his eyes. They then widen and he turns his gaze upon Knives once more.
"Sir you hands..." Legato makes a move to reach out, releasing his crutch handle, but stopping quickly. Knives takes it upon himself to lift his hand between them and all but places it upon Legato's. Fingers blackened to the second knuckle and coated over in a thin layer of dust.
"They will heal before noon."
Legato stares at his hand, his own wavering only inches away from his outstretched fingers. Knives waits with bated breath to see if Legato would take his hand into his own.
The disappointment is bitter and swift when Legato lowers his hand and grips his crutch.
"I will draw you a bath, Sir." Legato says, turning away from him, "There are fresh clothes for you, or I could launder your current clothes while you bathe."
"Whatever you have here will serve me well. Thank you, Legato."
Legato pauses for a moment before quickly darting off up the stairs. Knives follows after with less haste. Letting himself into Legato's room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He takes off his boots and socks, along with his goggles before shedding the heavy brown coat he pilfered to combat the ice cold winds of high flying and the frozen nights of the north. After this he removes his small pack then the heavy long sleeved shirt underneath. He considers removing his dusty denim jeans, but that would require standing and he was beyond that effort at the current moment. Instead he sits and listens for Legato's return.
In time the door creaks open and Legato steps inside, "Sir, your bath is ready."
Knives stands with a sigh and approaches the door, "Take this time to make yourself more presentable." He says gently.
"I will, Sir." Legato replies, stepping aside with a grace he had not possessed in some time due to his injuries.
Knives says no more and goes to the bath. The frost bite along his fingers and toes is pushed back at a brisk pace as soon as he lays in the water, and he sighs as he's quickly rejuvenated. The water turns dark from the dirt and dust and before he leaves the bath he drains the tub and has the shower wash away the remaining dirt clinging to his skin. Drying with a provided towel and dressing in the garments Legato had laid out brings a great comfort to him that he had not realized he had missed.
Truly it had been a long, long time since he had traveled so rough. He had considered the trecks across the dessert with Vash and Wolfwood a trial before, but with this new perspective he can say that Wolfwood, despite his numerous annoyances, was very good at providing for them.
Knives was still above voicing these opinions to the man himself. His pride was great, even in his downfall.
But now cleaned and dressed he exits the bathroom and returns to Legato's room. The man is sat upon the bed, and once he enters makes a move to stand. Knives raises a hand to cease the movement. There is no other furnishings in the room, and he would rather not sit upon the bed beside Legato but face him, so he stands before him.
"Your hand." Knives demands, holding out his own in turn.
Legato obeys immediately and rests his hand open palm up upon his. Knives sends a small probe of energy through Legato, testing the life force within him and finding it stronger than ever. Loath to do it, he releases Legato's hand and smiles fondly.
"Your strength has returned ten fold."
"Thank you, Sir." Legato replies.
"I wish to leave with you tonight, under cover darkness." Knives says, switching to words of thought. The less said aloud about their route the better. Not that he suspected Vash or his dog to sat anything to the EDF it was better to be cautious, "Our destination will be Voldoor. There we will ride the Sandsteamer to Keybos. From there we will continue north until we reach the ruins of Felnarl."
"Is that where we will stay?" Legato asks after a moment of thought.
"No. From there we go further north."
Legato's brows knit, obviously puzzled as Felnarl is one of the northernmost cities in all of Gunsmoke.
"I suppose you intend to show me the meaning of 'No Man's Land' if that is the case." Legato finally says, small smile gracing his face, "I will be ready to leave at dusk. You may have bed to rest in, if that pleases you."
"Later I will." Knives says, turning away and heading towards the door, "I need to speak with Vash once more."
He did not need to speak with Vash, but he also did not wish to rest for the time being. He leaves Legato to his room, and to pack whatever he desires. Vash he finds in the living room, sat under the window and staring longingly at a patch of sunlight. Knives sits beside them, their arms touching, and savors the quiet between them for as long as they can allow. At noon Knives rises and searches the house for Wolfwood to speak with him, eventually finding him in the kitchen cooking the midday meal.
"Vash told me you got here." Wolfwood says, eyes turned down to the pan of eggs frying in oil, "Figured it was only a matter if time you came askin' for favors you don't deserve."
"I need a ride into town at dusk with Legato. Then I will not darken your doorstep again." Knives assures. Wolfwood turns his gaze to him, eyes sharp and searching.
"Trying to blow my cover?" Wolfwood asks, vindictive tinge in his voice as he takes the eggs from the pan and onto a plate with toast and bacon, "The EDF has been coming around enough as it is, and I don't want Vash stuck inside more than he is."
"You take me for a fool. I have a... disguise."
"Disguise?" Wolfwood glances at him once more and Knives keeps a tight hold on his composure.
"Yes, one I know you will find great pleasure in." Knives says, keeping the bitterness from his voice with great difficulty. Wolfwood casts him a curious gaze before holding out a plate to him.
"Well I know you ain't stupid, and I figure if I don't give you a lift you'll steal my truck."
Knives smiles slightly, as that was indeed his plan, and takes the plate though he does not eat, "What is this?"
"Legato's lunch, take it up to him for me, would ya?"
Knives leaves without another word. From that town it would not be difficult to secure transportation to Voldoor over the sand wastes. The EDF had been running busses between the towns that had Plant's in an attempt to centralize the population and reconnect families. With his disguise Knives is confident enough that he could slip through undetected. Upon opening the door, Legato looks up from the bed where he had been packing a traveling bag.
"Sir, are you ready to rest?" Legato asks, looking to hastily exit.
"Yes, for a bit. Though I do not bid you to leave. Wolfwood prepared this for you." Knives says, placing the plate in Legato's outstretched hands, "May I join you?"
A look of confusion appears upon Legato's face before he nods. Knives lays upon the bed with his back to the wall. He does not pull the sheets over himself only closes his eyes and allows his body to relax. Still he does not sleep. There is no peace to be had, and he is still strong enough to stave it off for another few weeks. Instead he slips into a meditative state, listening to the sounds Legato breathing and packing for the restful hours between noon and dusk.
Eventually he feels a light hand upon his shoulder and opens his eyes. The room is darker now, the last fingers of sunlight still gripping the windowsill but soon they will relent. Legato was over him, kneeling upon the bed with a soft expression.
"Sir, it is getting late. Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes, but you will have to give me a moment. I will meet you downstairs." Knives says, sitting up and casting Legato a gentle look. Legato nods, and takes his leave.
Knives gets out of the bed and takes his small pack from the ground, beside it was another traveling bag, large and packed with his laundered clothing by Legato's neat hand. He straps his current clothing and adds it to the pack. Now he pulls out his disguise and dresses in it. The linen is soft against his skin and the skirt falls low enough to cover his heavy boots. The habit covers his distinctive hair, and his figure is vauge enough to pass as a woman as long as he keeps his head down and mouth shut. Catching his reflection in the window is distasteful, and he laments the color of his skin. If he were closer in color to Legator or Wolfwood he could have worn a hijabi and slightly more feminine clothes instead of these long skirts. It is unfortunate that those fair people had dwindling numbers already, his actions had probably destroyed the Muslim population on Gunsmoke entirely. He would attract more attention with that type veil than without.
Now dressed he takes his bag and descends the stairs to see his brother before going. At the bottom of the stairs Legato awaits, and only nods his head as greeting. Knives nods baxk and enter the kitchen where Vash and Wolfwood are having a soft conversation.
"We are ready." He says, causing them to fall silent and turn. Immeditly Wolfwood's face turns bright red, but he keeps his composure better than he had expected.
Vash walks up to him and smiles, "I was wondering what your disguise would be... where did you get this?"
"I found it in an empty church." Knives admits, "It will carry me to my destination unbothered."
Vash reaches down and removes a pistol and holster from his leg, holding it out to Knives.
"Take this too." Vash says, "I... I hope you don't have to use it."
"If I can help it, I will not." Knives says as he pulls up his skirt to strap the holster to his leg, surprised to find that he means it, "Until we meet again."
Vash pulls him into a hug that is not at all unexpected, and he wraps his arms around them and holds then close for a few seconds.
"I love you, Knives."
Knives takes a deep breath and pulls away slightly to look his brother in their eyes, "I love you too, Vash." He pauses, swallowing a heavy lump in his throat, "Thank you for everything you've done for me."
Tears pool in Vash's eyes. Knives does not tell him to save their tears, as these are the only ones Knives has ever caused of joy.
With their time together up he turns away and goes to the door where Legato is waiting. No other words are spoken for the time being. Wolfwood drives in silence across the shadowed wastelands. Eventually they arrive at the city, darkened and empty buildings loom over them in the late hour. Knives considers the implications that the entire current population of Gunsmoke could very well fill this city to the way it had been before the ARK. He does not pursue this dark thought long, choosing to look towards less dismal mental exercises.
"Where am I dropping you two off?" Wolfwood asks, pulling over the truck to idle on the side of the road.
"Here is fine." Knives says, "The less you know the better."
"Right." Wolfwood sighs and pulls the sun visor down. Taking a small envelope he holds it out to Knives, "Some money for the trip. If your gonna be dressed like that I would rather you not steal. Gives the Church a bad name."
Knives does not deny the charity despite the reason and takes the envelope. Tucking it away in his skirts, "Thank you."
Wolfwood looks at him with a peculiar expression on his face. It must be quite the experience for Wolfwood to see his former nightmare acting in this way.
"Vash will make certain that eventually the EDF will want to find me. They will need my help if they want to save the Plants and make this planet livable." Knives keeps his voice low, barely above a whisper, "When that time comes I want you to tell Vash that I am with the Plant we laid to rest. They will understand."
"I'm not lying to Vash for you anymore."
"It is not lying, Wolfwood. I am giving you a message to be delivered later. It is better for us all to be in the dark about certain things, they will all be brought you light in time. If it would ease your conscious, Preacher, then by all means tell Vash that you have a lead to my whereabouts and they will tell you to keep it to yourself as well as I have."
Wolfwood lights a cigarette and inhales.
"If you are going to be so contentious about this I will have you escort Legato and I to our destination."
"Wouldn't that blow your cover?"
"What is so suspicious about a man of the cloth escorting a nun and a crippled man to a church for sanctuary?"
Wolfwood wrinkles his nose in disgust, "You are such a devious-"
Legato clears his throat causing Wolfwood's insult to die upon his lips. Knives is satisfied that he will not tell Vash the clue. Now he pulls one last item from his pocket, an item he had kept closer than even the Pod. A thin black vial with a metal cap, engraved upon it was a large S. He holds it out to Wolfwood, who takes it and examine it closely.
"Do not open it. Inside is the last of the Seeds. Have Vash return it to the EDF on my behalf." Knives says before opening the door and stepping out, "Goodnight, Wolfwood."
Legato is out of the car in moments, and Knives turns to walk the two blocks to the Church. After only a few paces the sound of truck stops and he hears a door slam along with hurried footsteps.
"Wait a second, Mother Saverem!" Wolfwood calls, jogging down the street, "You forgot this."
He looks down to see a black Rosary in Wolfwood's open fist. Wordlessly the man wraps the beaded tool around a loop on his belt, leaning close to speak in a low whisper.
"Not much of a Nun without a Rosary." Wolfwood meets his gaze, eyes dark and serious, "Keep it safe, next time I see you I'll take it back."
Knives nods, the weight of Wolfwood's trust hangs by his side. Heavy in ways outside of the realm of physicality. Wolfwood takes his leave, and Knives continues on his path with Legato by his side. They say nothing until they arrive at the large wooden church. Knives climbs the stairs and knocks upon the door. The Preacher that comes welcomes them inside without too many questions upon hearing their intent to leave in the morning. They are set in a small alcove with two meager beds. Knives sits upon his small cot and waits for the daylight to find them again.