[ When Vash returns from wherever he had gone after he'd left Knives to rest on the suite's couch, he'll find the main room nothing like how he'd left it. His returned clothes wait for him in a messy pile at the front door, whereas on the floor in front of the couch is the blanket and coat he'd draped over Knives prior to leaving.
But there's more than just that. It might not be obvious at first, but when he moves closer he'll see that there are small spatters of blood on the coffee table and the couch's armrest.
Knives' door is closed tight and locked, and within it he's laid out on his bed for the first time, having fallen into a deep sleep. A ring of dark bruises have already started to form on the skin at his throat.
Falling into a dreamless slumber seems far, far easier than facing what just happened. ]
[ How much trouble could his brother get into while he was asleep?
Now that he knew Nai slept deeply, through practically anything, Vash had started leaving him alone whenever he laid down for a nap - he needed to work sometimes, and this was usually the best time. He's not surprised to see that Nai has already moved somewhere else and left a mess behind by the time he gets home, but Vash doesn't really mind. He tosses his phone onto the kitchen counter and stops by the couch, leisurely picking up the blanket and coat, humming to himself.
It's only when he starts to fold the blanket up that his hand comes away sticky with blood. Vash freezes. He notes the clothing by the door - things he'd lent to Wolfwood - and Nai's closed door. There isn't a lot of blood. He keeps telling himself - there's not a lot.
Vash is across the room in a second. He tries the knob first, then resorts to banging his fist against his brother's bedroom door. ] Nai!
[ When he doesn't receive a response after a few minutes, he takes a few steps back so he can have a running start. It doesn't matter that his strength is diminished here - Vash runs and twists his body, using his momentum and a well placed kick. The door nearly comes off its hinges, parts of the wood splintering.
He doesn't know what he expects to find when he steps inside, but it isn't Nai just laying there in bed. Vash is breathing hard, fear and adrenaline and anger all intertwined, but when he walks over to the bed he drops to his knees beside it. ]
Nai, what happened? [ Vash reaches for his shoulder, trying to turn him so that he can see his face better. His voice is clipped, something coiled and tightly controlled in it, but there's an underlying thread of concern there, too. ] Nai, answer me.
he doesn't know what a depression nap is but this sure is one
[ The loud banging and Vash's voice on the other side of the door are more than enough to wake Knives up, his eyes snapping open even as his body feels like it wants to sag further into the mattress. He doesn't have much interest in speaking to his brother right now, though, not when he can already imagine how it will go. Vash is going to take the Punisher's side on this despite the fact that he was the one who marched up to Knives and curled his hands around his throat.
Vash has picked humans over him so many times by this point that he isn't in the mood to face that yet again. So he doesn't respond, simply drags the comforter tighter around his shoulders and pretends to still be asleep.
Perhaps he should have expected Vash to break the door down, as they're both stubborn in their own ways. He tenses up when the door cracks open, but before he even has a chance to decide what he wants to do about the intrusion, Vash is at the side of the bed and tugging at his shoulder.
With a deep sigh, he lets it happen. Even with the hood of the sweatshirt he's been living in pulled up, there's no hiding the dark bruises that have formed in a thick ring around his throat, which stand out starkly against his pale skin.
His eyes flick up to meet Vash's, and while he can see the concern buried under everything, he's numb to it now. ]
What do you want.
poor little meow meow who has never done anything wrong in his life
[ The color drains from Vash's face, and at the same time everything seems to re-center. Nai wouldn't be like this if Wolfwood was dead or even close to it - he would be right back to business, maybe gloating as an afterthought if he was particularly annoyed with Vash in the moment. While Vash still feels that horrible sense of fear and dread about what might have happened to Wolfwood, he's now relatively sure that Wolfwood walked out of the situation -- if not better, at least not too much worse than Nai.
Vash's expression softens. He skims his fingers across the dark bruises that already show a nearly perfect imprint of Wolfwood's hand. If he was a better man, would he place his own hand there and finish what Wolfwood started? Or would he offer his throat to Wolfwood too and say -- I'm just as guilty.
In the end, he can't see his brother in pain and not feel empathy for him. He doesn't miss Nai's ruthless arrogance, but this dead-eyed emptiness isn't better. ]
I'll get you some ice. [ He hears himself say. He goes, comes back with a bag of peas wrapped in a kitchen towel, and settles by the bed again. ] This will help with the pain. Can I?
[ He motions to his neck to indicate what he wants to do. ]
[ Despite the fact that Vash's touch is gentle and feather-light, Knives jerks back when his fingers brush over the bruises. It's not only because they're tender to the touch now, but also because he's aware of what a vulnerable area it is now. How if Wolfwood had squeezed just slightly harder for slightly longer, he might have lost his life.
And in this world, he can't be certain he would respawn.
As someone who has never truly had to stare his own mortality in the face while fearing it all the same, there's far too much to mentally process. He wants nothing more than to order Vash to leave him alone, but then he's gone as quickly as he came, to retrieve some ice.
When Vash returns, Knives stares at the packet of frozen vegetables wrapped up in a cloth. He seems to remember some other moment like this, when he'd sprained an ankle or suffered a bruise, and his brother had come to him in this exact manner. The strange overlap unsettles him.
With a protesting grunt, he pushes himself to sit up on the bed and then reaches out to take the bundle from Vash. ]
Why are you so concerned, Vash? [ His voice is hoarse and strained from the pressure on his windpipe that has yet to heal. He knows why Vash is fussing, or at least he can guess. He wants to hear it anyway. ]
[ Vash lets him have the bundle without protest, remaining where he's settled, looking up at Nai.
His brow furrows at the question, but he answers without hesitation: ] Because I love you.
[ There's no softness in it, no cajoling comfort. What comes through instead is exasperation and anger again, that fraying temper that he's trying so desperately to replace with the patience that Rem would have wanted.
That he loves his brother is something that remains true whether Vash wants it to be or not, in that moment. It will remain as steady and unbroken as the resonant song, woven into him long before he had the words for it. He can love his brother, and be terrified for him, and find him infuriating all at the same time.
Vash takes a breath. ] Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?
[ Those words spill from Vash's mouth without a moment of hesitation, as if they are undeniable. As if this is an unchangeable truth about the universe, that he loves him. Knives perhaps shouldn't be surprised by it, but he truly can't remember the last time that he heard those words from Vash, in either set of memories.
And so he is left to sit there, stunned, with a makeshift icepack set against his bruised throat. It doesn't seem to matter that Vash spoke the words with distaste, like he wishes that they weren't true. The fact that he said them at all is enough to leave Knives reeling.
Even now, even after all this time, Vash loves him.
He has an odd way of showing it most of the time, but for once Knives swallows back his words. Doing so only causes the inside of his throat to ache more. ]
... Do you mean to say that you didn't already ask him?
[ Another surprise. He would have thought that the moment that Vash saw that blood and put two and two together, he would have raced off in search of his newfound friend. The one who'd only met Vash on his orders. ]
[ It's Nai's stunned silence that gives Vash enough pause to realize how long it's truly been since he said those words out loud. He didn't think he had to, even after all this time. That he loves Nai is as obvious to him as it is that Nai can't return the feeling. He understands that Nai doesn't love him. He doesn't know how. Vash is the one who should know better than to press the situation.
Nai loves... his own perfect idea of what he wants from Vash, but maybe Vash is guilty of something like that too -- maybe he loves the idea of Nai being able to change, or Nai being willing to try.
Maybe Wolfwood is right, and all he does is hurt people with false hope and promises he can only deliver too late. ]
I panicked. [ He says, breaking eye contact first. ] You'll heal, and when you do -- stay away from him. Please. No revenge or retaliation or anything. Leave him alone.
[ He can practically see Nai gearing up for the accusation, and Vash doesn't let him for once. He pushes to his feet. ] This isn't about humans and Plants -- this is about us. You're my brother, and he's my friend. I don't want either of you to die, and if you insist on finishing this -- I hope you're both willing to go through me to do it.
[ He panicked. Knives takes a moment to consider that Vash, when presented with the evidence out in the main suite room, had decided to seek him out first, for better or worse. Granted, the stab wound he inflicted on the Punisher would hardly be enough to slow him down for long, given his enhancements. Perhaps Vash had made that calculation too.
As Vash tightens his jaw and squares his shoulders to draw a line in the sand, Knives stares up at him with unreadable eyes and then huffs out a breath. He could explode at him with anger, because it is always about humans and Plants no matter how much Vash will insist otherwise, but he's still exhausted down to his bones, his cells. ]
... First of all, he's the one who started it. You can ask him yourself. [ Knives had said little more than a handful of words to Wolfwood, who had then quietly stalked over to wrap his hand around his throat. He must have realized that if he was going to make an attempt on his life, this would be the right moment. The instincts of a killer; in that way, it makes perfect sense.
With a frown, Knives shifts the ice pack to a different part of his throat. It's numbing the pain if nothing else, so he'll take it. ] You call him friend, but you two only ever met because I willed it. I bid him to bring you to me. You realize that, don't you?
[ Vash isn't stupid. He must realize. It's the fact that he'd call the Punisher friend, even after all that, which draws Knives' attention. He continues to stare up at him, eyes narrowed as if he's a snake readying a strike. ]
[ Nai is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Vash's response to this, too, comes without hesitation: ] I believe you.
[ Of course Wolfwood went after him first. Wolfwood knew first hand just how much horror Nai had wrought in his wake, and how much worse things could become, so long as he held on to his insane ambition. Just like Nai, Wolfwood isn't the sort of person to wait and hope for a better outcome -- he's the type to strike before a worse one.
Vash can almost track his path across the room in his mind's eye, and what surprises him isn't that Wolfwood went after Nai first, but that Wolfwood started the job without finishing it. Why?
Vash's gaze drops to the ice pack on his brother's neck, and finally he takes he a step back, shaking his head. ]
You sent him personally? [ Vash's brow furrows, but the flash of pain and regret there isn't what Nai might think. He hadn't realized just how much of Wolfwood's plight was entirely his fault. There's no pleasure in what he says, just weary acceptance: ] Nai... I knew who he was from the start.
[ Not the details, who sent him, or exactly what he wanted, but Wolfwood carried his guilt and regret like he carried the Punisher, and Vash had yet to see him lay it down.
He turns, already moving toward the door. They're not going to get anywhere dragging out this new iteration of the same old argument. ] I'm going to look for my friend now. Try to get some rest.
[ Vash declares that he believes him, as if that is some great gift he's giving him. Knives has to fight the urge not to scowl in response. That feels as if it should be the bare minimum that he might expect from his own brother, from a piece of his very soul, and yet it feels as if he has to scrape for every piece of grace that Vash gives him.
As expected, Vash had known the truth of the Punisher when they first met. He isn't stupid, he would have put the pieces together. Yet he'd still strode his path all the way to July to see him. For a moment Knives wants to ask why, when Vash doesn't ever seem to want anything to do with him, but perhaps he'd intended for it to be a fight.
Perhaps he'd been intending to bring an end to it all somehow.
Vash is leaving. Already, he's leaving. A laugh tears its way from Knives' throat at Vash's words. ]
Friend? You'd call him friend? With the amount of blood he's soaked in? Vash—
[ The door closes in his face. Knives jerks to his feet from the bed, but immediately stumbles. He stares at the shut door, hears the retreating footsteps, and sinks back down onto the mattress.
So it goes. Always and forever, an unending cycle that he'd only wanted to break. He hurls the ice pack against the door and flings himself back onto the bed, then drags a pillow onto his face to scream into it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
may; after he got choked by wolfwood and then stabbed him :)
But there's more than just that. It might not be obvious at first, but when he moves closer he'll see that there are small spatters of blood on the coffee table and the couch's armrest.
Knives' door is closed tight and locked, and within it he's laid out on his bed for the first time, having fallen into a deep sleep. A ring of dark bruises have already started to form on the skin at his throat.
Falling into a dreamless slumber seems far, far easier than facing what just happened. ]
no subject
Now that he knew Nai slept deeply, through practically anything, Vash had started leaving him alone whenever he laid down for a nap - he needed to work sometimes, and this was usually the best time. He's not surprised to see that Nai has already moved somewhere else and left a mess behind by the time he gets home, but Vash doesn't really mind. He tosses his phone onto the kitchen counter and stops by the couch, leisurely picking up the blanket and coat, humming to himself.
It's only when he starts to fold the blanket up that his hand comes away sticky with blood. Vash freezes. He notes the clothing by the door - things he'd lent to Wolfwood - and Nai's closed door. There isn't a lot of blood. He keeps telling himself - there's not a lot.
Vash is across the room in a second. He tries the knob first, then resorts to banging his fist against his brother's bedroom door. ] Nai!
[ When he doesn't receive a response after a few minutes, he takes a few steps back so he can have a running start. It doesn't matter that his strength is diminished here - Vash runs and twists his body, using his momentum and a well placed kick. The door nearly comes off its hinges, parts of the wood splintering.
He doesn't know what he expects to find when he steps inside, but it isn't Nai just laying there in bed. Vash is breathing hard, fear and adrenaline and anger all intertwined, but when he walks over to the bed he drops to his knees beside it. ]
Nai, what happened? [ Vash reaches for his shoulder, trying to turn him so that he can see his face better. His voice is clipped, something coiled and tightly controlled in it, but there's an underlying thread of concern there, too. ] Nai, answer me.
he doesn't know what a depression nap is but this sure is one
Vash has picked humans over him so many times by this point that he isn't in the mood to face that yet again. So he doesn't respond, simply drags the comforter tighter around his shoulders and pretends to still be asleep.
Perhaps he should have expected Vash to break the door down, as they're both stubborn in their own ways. He tenses up when the door cracks open, but before he even has a chance to decide what he wants to do about the intrusion, Vash is at the side of the bed and tugging at his shoulder.
With a deep sigh, he lets it happen. Even with the hood of the sweatshirt he's been living in pulled up, there's no hiding the dark bruises that have formed in a thick ring around his throat, which stand out starkly against his pale skin.
His eyes flick up to meet Vash's, and while he can see the concern buried under everything, he's numb to it now. ]
What do you want.
poor little meow meow who has never done anything wrong in his life
Vash's expression softens. He skims his fingers across the dark bruises that already show a nearly perfect imprint of Wolfwood's hand. If he was a better man, would he place his own hand there and finish what Wolfwood started? Or would he offer his throat to Wolfwood too and say -- I'm just as guilty.
In the end, he can't see his brother in pain and not feel empathy for him. He doesn't miss Nai's ruthless arrogance, but this dead-eyed emptiness isn't better. ]
I'll get you some ice. [ He hears himself say. He goes, comes back with a bag of peas wrapped in a kitchen towel, and settles by the bed again. ] This will help with the pain. Can I?
[ He motions to his neck to indicate what he wants to do. ]
you get it
And in this world, he can't be certain he would respawn.
As someone who has never truly had to stare his own mortality in the face while fearing it all the same, there's far too much to mentally process. He wants nothing more than to order Vash to leave him alone, but then he's gone as quickly as he came, to retrieve some ice.
When Vash returns, Knives stares at the packet of frozen vegetables wrapped up in a cloth. He seems to remember some other moment like this, when he'd sprained an ankle or suffered a bruise, and his brother had come to him in this exact manner. The strange overlap unsettles him.
With a protesting grunt, he pushes himself to sit up on the bed and then reaches out to take the bundle from Vash. ]
Why are you so concerned, Vash? [ His voice is hoarse and strained from the pressure on his windpipe that has yet to heal. He knows why Vash is fussing, or at least he can guess. He wants to hear it anyway. ]
no subject
His brow furrows at the question, but he answers without hesitation: ] Because I love you.
[ There's no softness in it, no cajoling comfort. What comes through instead is exasperation and anger again, that fraying temper that he's trying so desperately to replace with the patience that Rem would have wanted.
That he loves his brother is something that remains true whether Vash wants it to be or not, in that moment. It will remain as steady and unbroken as the resonant song, woven into him long before he had the words for it. He can love his brother, and be terrified for him, and find him infuriating all at the same time.
Vash takes a breath. ] Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?
no subject
And so he is left to sit there, stunned, with a makeshift icepack set against his bruised throat. It doesn't seem to matter that Vash spoke the words with distaste, like he wishes that they weren't true. The fact that he said them at all is enough to leave Knives reeling.
Even now, even after all this time, Vash loves him.
He has an odd way of showing it most of the time, but for once Knives swallows back his words. Doing so only causes the inside of his throat to ache more. ]
... Do you mean to say that you didn't already ask him?
[ Another surprise. He would have thought that the moment that Vash saw that blood and put two and two together, he would have raced off in search of his newfound friend. The one who'd only met Vash on his orders. ]
no subject
Nai loves... his own perfect idea of what he wants from Vash, but maybe Vash is guilty of something like that too -- maybe he loves the idea of Nai being able to change, or Nai being willing to try.
Maybe Wolfwood is right, and all he does is hurt people with false hope and promises he can only deliver too late. ]
I panicked. [ He says, breaking eye contact first. ] You'll heal, and when you do -- stay away from him. Please. No revenge or retaliation or anything. Leave him alone.
[ He can practically see Nai gearing up for the accusation, and Vash doesn't let him for once. He pushes to his feet. ] This isn't about humans and Plants -- this is about us. You're my brother, and he's my friend. I don't want either of you to die, and if you insist on finishing this -- I hope you're both willing to go through me to do it.
no subject
As Vash tightens his jaw and squares his shoulders to draw a line in the sand, Knives stares up at him with unreadable eyes and then huffs out a breath. He could explode at him with anger, because it is always about humans and Plants no matter how much Vash will insist otherwise, but he's still exhausted down to his bones, his cells. ]
... First of all, he's the one who started it. You can ask him yourself. [ Knives had said little more than a handful of words to Wolfwood, who had then quietly stalked over to wrap his hand around his throat. He must have realized that if he was going to make an attempt on his life, this would be the right moment. The instincts of a killer; in that way, it makes perfect sense.
With a frown, Knives shifts the ice pack to a different part of his throat. It's numbing the pain if nothing else, so he'll take it. ] You call him friend, but you two only ever met because I willed it. I bid him to bring you to me. You realize that, don't you?
[ Vash isn't stupid. He must realize. It's the fact that he'd call the Punisher friend, even after all that, which draws Knives' attention. He continues to stare up at him, eyes narrowed as if he's a snake readying a strike. ]
no subject
[ Of course Wolfwood went after him first. Wolfwood knew first hand just how much horror Nai had wrought in his wake, and how much worse things could become, so long as he held on to his insane ambition. Just like Nai, Wolfwood isn't the sort of person to wait and hope for a better outcome -- he's the type to strike before a worse one.
Vash can almost track his path across the room in his mind's eye, and what surprises him isn't that Wolfwood went after Nai first, but that Wolfwood started the job without finishing it. Why?
Vash's gaze drops to the ice pack on his brother's neck, and finally he takes he a step back, shaking his head. ]
You sent him personally? [ Vash's brow furrows, but the flash of pain and regret there isn't what Nai might think. He hadn't realized just how much of Wolfwood's plight was entirely his fault. There's no pleasure in what he says, just weary acceptance: ] Nai... I knew who he was from the start.
[ Not the details, who sent him, or exactly what he wanted, but Wolfwood carried his guilt and regret like he carried the Punisher, and Vash had yet to see him lay it down.
He turns, already moving toward the door. They're not going to get anywhere dragging out this new iteration of the same old argument. ] I'm going to look for my friend now. Try to get some rest.
no subject
As expected, Vash had known the truth of the Punisher when they first met. He isn't stupid, he would have put the pieces together. Yet he'd still strode his path all the way to July to see him. For a moment Knives wants to ask why, when Vash doesn't ever seem to want anything to do with him, but perhaps he'd intended for it to be a fight.
Perhaps he'd been intending to bring an end to it all somehow.
Vash is leaving. Already, he's leaving. A laugh tears its way from Knives' throat at Vash's words. ]
Friend? You'd call him friend? With the amount of blood he's soaked in? Vash—
[ The door closes in his face. Knives jerks to his feet from the bed, but immediately stumbles. He stares at the shut door, hears the retreating footsteps, and sinks back down onto the mattress.
So it goes. Always and forever, an unending cycle that he'd only wanted to break. He hurls the ice pack against the door and flings himself back onto the bed, then drags a pillow onto his face to scream into it. ]