Something was falling against his face. Wet, warm against his cheek. Rain? He stirred against it, drifting idly in that soft state between waking and dreaming. Was it raining in the recreation room again? Delicate eyelids fluttered against a china doll face. If it was raining he would get Vash. They both liked to play in it, in this impossibility, water falling from the sky. They both knew the science of it, the math, but it didn't dispel the wonder as hands lifted up to the cascade, feeling it pool in the their palms and trickle down their wrists, soaking their hair, their clothes, gleeful feet paddling in the puddles forming on the ground.

Another drop, landing just below his eye, trailing down like a fake tear to rest against the side of his nose and he wrinkled it imperceptibly. Rain. Must tell Vash…

Vash!

The thought brought reality and remembrance crashing back and he struggled to open his eyes.

"Knives…no, please…Knives…" Rem was cradling his head, her face twisted in anguish, tears spilling down freely to patter against his face, endless prayers falling from her lips. "Please, please don't take him god! Please don't take both my angels away from me!"

Like swimming through molasses, he forced himself to move, ignoring her glad words and hands touching him as he unclenched stiff limbs, stroking his brothers' cheek.

He'd made it back…but the question was, had Vash? He'd tried, holding on until he thought his mind would tear itself apart in the stress, but at the last instant, before he broke the line to reality he had lost his grip….

"Vash…?" it came out as a bare whisper through dry lips, panic flaring in his mind. The monitors weren't sounding any more alerts, but all that meant was that Vash was alive. It didn't mean he was there

He felt for a mind, couldn't focus right and panicked again at the lack of response. What if all he had brought back was a body without a mind? Nothing but a soulless zombie?

Vash…he repeated the entreaty with words, a nervous tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Vash…." He reached out again, hands roaming aimlessly over the body in his arms. What if he had failed? What if it didn't work? What if he -

…exhaustion…fear….questioning…Knives?

A soft, tender brush of a battered mind responding made his heart sing, feeling arms slowly come up to return his embrace. "…knives…?" Questioning. Confusion. The weakness in that grasp made him want to weep anew and he tightened his hold, burying his fingers in the soft blonde hair, pressing a desperately loving kiss to the bruised face.

"Vashu…Vashu..." It was all he could say, over and over.

"You came for me…" Vash whispered into his chest, mind burrowing gently into his own for reassurance. "You came for me…"

Reaching out, Rem gently touched Vash's arm, then stroked it, disbelief and joy colouring her tone. "Vash…Vash…? Can you hear me, sweetie?"

He blinked tiredly and smiled at her. "Rem…. sorry if I scared you…" he yawned and feebly snuggled his brother like a sick infant with a giant plush toy.

You came for me, I knew you'd come Knives. Love flowed out and filled those quiet places between them, love and a little awe, and for an absurd moment Knives felt like one of those superheroes from the old stories they read.

Mary pushed past and stared at the monitors, one hand resting on the side of the bed. "That's not possible…" she whispered. "…it's not possible…." She tore her gaze away and stared at Vash as he blinked up at her, gaze travelling along to where Knives still cuddled him. There was awe in her gaze.

And fear.

Knives stared back, feeling the reassuring pump of his brother's heart against his own.

"Thirsty…" the soft plaintive whimper sent Rem scurrying for a water pouch, pure joy radiating almost palpably, her step as light as a girl's and Knives watched in bemused exhaustion, feeling Vash slowly curl his still healing body tighter against him, basking in the glow restored to his soul.

Knew you'd come Knives. I knew you'd come. It was so dark and I couldn't find my way back….

Knives pressed a gentle kiss to his brother's temple, working his fingers through the long blond hair under his palm, massaging the scalp underneath. I'll always come for you Vash…

I know you will...

He felt a buzz along the back of his brain, threatening to become a headache and he closed his eyes briefly, leaning back against the pillow to try and stave it off. Rem returned with a water pouch and fussed with the controls, raising the bed so that neither boy had to sit up before offering Vash a drink. Angling his head awkwardly, head still resting against Knives' chest and hands curled in his shirt, Vash let her feed it to him like a baby, drinking thirstily.

Rem smiled and stroked back a lock of hair. That's it, my little angel, drink all you need, it's ok, oh thank you, thank you god for bringing him back to me, for bringing them both back to me… Knives let the patter of words wash over them, then realised in astonishment that the woman's lips weren't moving!

"Not too much at once, Vash, it'll make you sick, " she scolded gently as Vash choked a little, trying to inhale the pouch. Knives almost physically jumped, his hand clenching around his brother's back in panic. He'd heard those words before she even said them! Vash groaned a little in response to his grip and he eased up, staring as Rem hastily put the water pouch on the end of the bed, reaching up to stroke his brother's uninjured arm, brushing loose hair from his eyes, resting gentle fingers on his cheek. "Vash? What is it?"

"…sore…" Vash whined again.

Knives stared at Rem as she soothed his brother, gathering a few more pillows and fussing maternally. What was this? Why was he hearing her thoughts? He'd never been able to do that before, not with anyone save Vash, or the plants, certainly not with humans! He drew back, then gently sidled forwards again, prodding at her mind at little.

Love. That was his first impression. So much love in her mind. For everything. Everyone. He let himself bask in it for a moment, then moved forward, slipping deeper into her psyche. Concern. Yes. But something else. Sorrow? No. Jealousy? She was jealous of him? He stared at her, cuddling his brother tighter, resting his chin gently on the younger twin's mop of soft blonde hair. She was! Jealous of him, of the way Vash had said his name first, of the closeness they shared. Hidden so deep he doubted even she knew it was there, but she was jealous! And…greedy! She wanted Vash to herself. Wanted him to be her child! Eyes wide, he let them travel to the other woman, Mary, poking at her mind.

What he saw there made him recoil, a gasp choking his throat. She wasn't there that night to 'check' on Vash. This one wasn't even hidden, was there on the surface, plain to see. She'd come with a needle, a way to end all the hopeless pain of no recovery, to make it 'easier' on herself, on Rem, on all of them. She consoled herself with good intentions and pretty words, but the thought of Euthanasia horrified him. She'd come to kill his brother!

…smallest sacrifice possible…

How small? And how small were they in the minds of these humans?

The skin at the corners of his eyes tightened convulsively, a surge of pure fury ripping from him and he saw the woman's hand twitch, convulse as if gripped by a spasm. She shrieked a little in fright, the hypo crushed in suddenly disobedient fingers, shards of glass digging cruelly into her hand and backed away, eyes focused on him, clutching at her wrist as blood dripped onto the floor.

He could see her mind now, chasing endlessly after itself. Oh god, oh god, HE did this, HE did, oh god oh sweet jesus what is he what IS HE?

Vash stirred again in his arms, nestling closer, tucking his head under Knives' chin with a little noise of contentment, burrowing his face into the hollow of the other twin's throat. Knives reflexively tightened his embrace, the conflict between his brother's soft contented unquestioning mind and the human screaming mentally in fear making him close his eyes against a wave of vertigo.

"Your hand!" Rem looked over to the other woman at the sound, half-rising from her seat with concern. "Mary, what happened?"

"I…he…" Mary's mouth moved like an elderly goldfish that had just been fed, words escaping with no sounds as Knives opened his eyes again and stared at her, almost daring her to make a move against him, against Vash.

…and he could feel, on the edge of her psyche, little thoughts. Denial thoughts. Thoughts that wanted to cover it up and make it all an illusion. He gave them a gentle nudge…

"I had an accident with a hypo…You keep an eye on them, let me get this cleaned up. I'll be back in a minute.." Mary hurried off, her mind already healing over the shock of the impossible. Just a silly imagining, she shouldn't think such things, it was just a stupid accident, the shock made her clench her fist like that, she shouldn't be surprised, the twins always did heal fast…

Reeling in shock, Knives felt his mind expand despite himself, sweeping past the room, past the people inside, flowing out into the corridors and even into the sleeping bays. Now he could hear them all. All the humans, the waking and sleeping, hear them all in his head, the duality, the grasping, greedy horrid faces under their perfect facades. All of them leering at him out of the gloom, one after the other like a grotesque Jester's parade, and an involuntary whimper broke from his throat.

Terrified he shrank away, into Vash's arms, burying his face into the soft blonde hair, mind shrieking on the edge of insanity, flailing for something to cling to and suddenly locking onto Vash.

Vash.

Contentment. Peace. Love. The lips against his throat curving in a weak, but happy smile.

No duplicity. He could feel the maelstrom ease. No lies, no greed, nothing but love. Innocence. He closed his eyes and wanted to sleep in it, to wrap it around himself like a protective blanket. Every nerve in his body jangled, deep, bone-weary exhaustion and some physical pain warring with the voices in his head for prominence.

A gentle hand rested against his forehead, then slid down to cup his cheek. "Knives honey, are you ok? You feel hot." Again that concern. But still that dank undertow that made his skin crawl.

Vash's hand crept up to rest gently at the base of his throat. "Rem's right Knives…" he whispered in eager concern. "You don't…feel right…you feel different. Strange." The other two knew he wasn't just speaking of a physical touch.

"Come on Knives, let me move you to another bed, ok?" her voice was soft, coaxing. "I just want to see the monitors without Vash on them as well…"

His hand tightened against Vash's back. But it would mean letting go…

"Just for a little while, ok? I promise." Lies from an angel. But he was so tired…

"Please Knives? Let her look at you?"

In the end, as always, it was his brother who broke the stalemate. He thought he nodded, wasn't quite sure. Didn't really care either way. He let her ease him into her arms, his grasp on Vash falling limply away to hang down in the air, hands like dead birds as she lifted him and put him down on another bed. Click of activating monitors.

"Rem?" Vash's weak voice was worried, rustling noises from his bed. "Rem?"

"Shh, he's ok Vash. Lie still. He just needs to rest…"

And he did.

~~~~~

Dark now. Sleep cycle. The others had left, their boisterous welcoming back party for Vash still leaving a few scattered streamers here and there, eagerly scrawled signatures on a plaster cast fading in the dim shadows along with the memory of their laughter.

Millions Knives stared up at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, mind chasing in circles.

He couldn't shut them off.

In his mind, always in his mind, the endless chatter of others. Their hopes. Their dreams. Their daemons, all of them parading in his mind like gibbering devils, demanding attention. He could force them to the background, but never lose them completely. This new gift….it was a hell.

And Mary…what he had seen…what he had made her do…

Now he was worth fearing. He remembered so many times he had wished he was worth all that misdirected fear and hatred, that he could do cruel and strange things, manipulate them, scare them, just something, anything to justify the hatred he couldn't understand.

And now he could, and he would have done anything to give it back. Now they really would fear and hate him. Hate what he was, what he had become. There would be no 'new understanding', no 'getting over it', he was a monster now.

"Knives? You awake?" The question was rhetorical, the soft pad of bare feet scurrying across the floor, their owner making little noises of irritation at the coldness of the metal surface, then Vash was clambering into the bed, the cast on his arm thumping oddly against the pillow clutched to his side.

Wordlessly, Knives moved over to make room, eyes still locked somewhere on the ceiling and a million miles away.

With little grunting noises Vash squirreled himself under the blankets, shoving his cold feet down to curl around his brother's warm ones, thumping his own pillow down on the bed and stealing one of Knives'. A few minutes of squirming later and he was happily ensconced, snuggled under the blankets, head propped up on one hand as he calmly watched his brother, injured arm carefully resting on a pillow between them.

Gingerly, he reached up and stroked Knives' elbow with his fingers, the only motion afforded by the cast stretching from wrist to elbow. Despite himself, the older twin felt himself relax at the familiar, comfortable touch, then the dread returned.

An abomination. Worth nothing but fear. And what of Vash? If Vash knew this skill, this horrid, hateful skill, these abilities, would he still touch him like this? Would he still love him? Or would he shrink in fear from what he had become?

No. Not that. Vash would never do that. Too quixotic. He would love Knives…but something between them would change. Something between them would be stained.

Above them, the monitors sang a reassuring song to the twin hearts beating steadily under its watch, the easy, pain-free breathing. Closing his eyes, Knives let it soothe him for a moment, the touch of Vash's warm flesh against his, the sound of his heart, the caress of his mind. A shudder ran through him involuntarily as he remembered the alternative. He rolled onto his side, suddenly desperate to see those green eyes looking back at him.

"What's wrong?" Folding his arm down, Vash rested his head on it, peering at his brother under long blonde bangs in a pose Rem had once described as making him look like a scolded daschund. Curious at the simile, Knives had once looked up what a daschund was in the ship's database and had promptly spent the next two hours laughing his arse off at his brother.

The memory didn't even quirk his lips now.

"Just thinking…." Reaching out, he traced the looping signatures scrawled on the cast covering Vash's injured arm with his index finger, following the inked lines then trailing off to idly explore the valleys and hills of the white plaster. "Why did they sign this?" he asked in sudden anger. "They were ready to give up on you, ready to let you die!"

"But I didn't," Vash pointed out. "You saved me." The simply spoken words made Knives close his eyes against the memory, the desperate darkness, the shattering of that barrier that was never meant to be breached, the feeling that somehow something had broken irretrievably in his mind.

"why do they bother?" Knives murmured absently. "It's only going to happen again. They hate us. They're afraid of us. Of what we are."

"Only here…" the beatific smile on Vash's features irritated him, for a brief instant he wanted to smack it off. "Things will be different Knives, you'll see. Rem says so." He rolled carefully onto his back and beamed at the cold metal ceiling above them. "They'll be different in Eden."

Knives rolled with him, looking up, seeing past grey metal, steel bolts, endless oblivion in the space surrounding them. Seeing into a future.

Eden. A fantastical, wondrous place. Where everything was good, and nothing was bad. A place humans would create.

A place humans would destroy.

He remembered a filmstrip the Captain had shown them once…how human civilisation had started when an ape had grasped a bone and beaten another with it….And they hadn't changed in the millennia that had passed since! All their lies. All their hatred, their endless, groundless fears and greedy, grasping minds seethed in the background of his own like a vile sea.

What would they do with their 'Eden' ? The same they had done to their own world? Would they rape, and murder, steal…

Vash rolled over and cuddled him closer, stroking his hair in an attempt to soothe the dark thoughts that were radiating almost palpably from him.

So innocent. So loving. No lies. No duality. Just….Vash.

Humans didn't deserve Eden.

Vash did.

And Knives would make it his.

~owari~

Apologies if this seems somewhat fractured. I recently told my family about my cancer, and well, the shit hit the fan. My home is being sold from underneath me and I feel ill. I promise I will rewrite this when my brain is working, but I didn't want to make you wait if I got sick again.

'leya