PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE READING THIS FIC

AN: This was inspired by my other Trigun fic, The Pawn.

I wrote this based heavily upon the manga universe, though I borrow from both the anime and manga. That said, if you know anything about the manga, you know that the characters and events in the manga are significantly different than that of the anime. Do yourself a favor and don't read this fic with your "anime-glasses" on. It won't make any sense otherwise.

If I had to pin a time frame on this baby, I'd probably say that this fic is set to occur somewhere around volume 5 and 6 of the Japanese release of Trigun Maximum. This fic is also an AU in that I launch into my own universe with most of the events leading up to volume 5 having already occurred.

Aside from the Trigun/Trigun Maximum mangas, this fic was also inspired by Rosemary's Baby. If you hated the way that movie ended, you'll probably dislike the way this fic ends. Get the hint? Not everything in life has the cliché "and they lived happily ever after" ending. I have other fics with that type of ending, so if you're looking for that, you might want to consider reading something else. I would suggest reading 'Two Plants and a Girl' written by my dear friend, Thunk. She's a great writer and her fics are far more happy and romantic than mine.

Soooo... consider yourself warned. ;)

Also, it should be noted that I wrote and posted this fic long before Thunk wrote her Knives/Meryl fic. I know people have accused her of ripping me off and I've gotten the same type of accusations from fans of her fic. The simple truth is that she and I are good friends and I was her beta for 'Two Plants and a Girl.' Unfortunately, at the time that I wrote this fic, I didn't have Thunk to beta my work - and this fic suffers as a result of that. However, I have been actively rewriting this fic so it isn't quite so rough around the edges.

Thanks for reading!

July 10, 2010

• • •

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun; I do not own Meryl, Vash, Knives, Legato or any other character from the Trigun universe. Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours own the copyright to Trigun and all the various characters therein. If you want to give money to someone for these wonderful characters, give money to them.

Double Helix

prologue
~ a beginning is a very delicate thing ~

"She's not accepting it, Master."

Knives pressed his lips together to form a tight, grim line as he stared into the plant core. A flash of sorrow and rage reflected in his eyes before he gave a tired sigh. "I know."

Legato paused for a moment, sensing his master's anger and frustration beginning to mount. This was very delicate ground to be treading upon and he knew instinctively that it must be navigated carefully. The last thing he wanted was to upset Knives. His only desire was to do as He willed.

"Conrad is above," the cripple said. "He wishes to speak with you."

Legato felt a tide of frustration and rage roll in as the last of his master's patience was steadily ebbing away. Not wishing to further evoke Knives' frustration and ire, the blue-haired servant continued, "Master, it will please you to know that he thinks he may have found a solution..."

The free-born plant paused, his eyebrow raising curiously. A sigh of relief almost escaped Legato's lips when he felt the tide of anger begin to recede ever so slightly.

"A solution?" Knives asked. The question hung in the air, demanding no reply. "Let's hear what the maggot has to say then."

Turning on his heel, Knives left the room with the pallbearer quietly pushing Legato behind him.

As they made their way through the maze of corridors and stairways, Legato let his mind churn over the possible reasons why his master had been so particularly agitated as of late. The free-born plant had been seething since he first learned of the hair-darkening effect. Impatiently seething.

Now it seemed that the seedling was dying. Knives' greatest desire was slowly fading away. It wouldn't be long before there was nothing left to hope for. No future, no legacy. Only the cold finality of revenge.

• • •

Legato was making him wait on purpose. It was his petty way of reminding Conrad of his position in the food chain.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Dr. Conrad exhaled impatiently and felt the weight of his age press down upon him. Technology was a wonderful thing for keeping him alive for so long, but there were days when he felt as ancient and worn as the sand and dust itself. Stubbornly, he pushed away his growing tiredness and tried to ignore the painful arthritis in his left knee.

The doctor knew better than to show weakness or let his guard down in such a place. Doing so could be his demise. Knives was not one to show mercy or patience, but he did have a strange and somewhat bizarre attachment to the past. As long as Conrad was useful to Knives, he would be protected - regardless of the fact that he was a living, breathing reminder of the times when the plant didn't hate humanity quite so much.

Even so, there was no doubt in the old doctor's mind that Knives would welcome a reason — any reason — just justify his extermination.

Dipping his chin to his chest and closing his eyes, Conrad waited and tried not to remember Knives as he had once been. Then the distinct sound of footsteps approaching echoed from the hall. Straightening himself, Conrad smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt and carefully schooled his expression to appear as neutral as possible when Knives made his appearance.

Conrad offered a nod of acknowledgment as he greeted the plant, "Hello, Knives."

• • •

He felt Conrad's disgust churn within the old man's belly like spoiled milk. Knives knew the sight of Legato disturbed him, so he did his best to always make sure that the cripple was present for these types of meetings. Regardless of his discomfort, the old human remained calm and outwardly detached.

Knives caught the doctor's attention with a wide smirk. Trapping him within his steady gaze, the doctor knew the plant could see through his mask of indifference, but still Knives said nothing. Silence tended to unnerve humans and he was more than happy to use the vacuum of noise to his advantage. The sarcastic twist of his lips only grew more satisfied as Knives watched tiny beads of sweat glisten on the doctor's brow.

The plant relished in the discomfort Conrad felt. It was the very least the old bastard deserved. Conrad had been pleased when he saw Knives' hair begin to darken and did little to hide the emotion from the plant's probing mind. It was enraging, but Knives suspected there was far more that the doctor knew about Plant biology than he professed and that made him an important part of the equation. He would simply have to wait. The time would come when Conrad would no longer be needed and Knives looked forward to the feel of dismembering him.

"You have news for me?" Knives asked sardonically, his clear voice cutting the silence to shreds.

"Ah, yes," Conrad squared his shoulders. "I do."

Knives moved to stand closer to the doctor, all the while probing his mind searching for deceit and finding only disgust and annoyance directed towards his maimed servant. The free-born plant almost laughed aloud and the absurdity of it but decided to humor the old man instead. The time for games had passed.

"Legato. Leave us."

The servant nodded in reply. Without a sound, the living corpse and his pallbearer retreated from the room. Once the two were alone, Knives offered the doctor a sarcastic smile. "He makes you nervous and I do not?"

"No, that's not it," Conrad said carefully. "He's just... very unnatural. I can't explain it."

The smirk quickly developed into a laugh of genuine amusement at the doctor's ironic admission. It was true, Legato was indeed an unnatural being, yet a useful one. All of the humans Knives surrounded himself with were somewhat unnatural. A few of them were not human at all. That was the very reason Knives chose to surround himself with them. All the better that some of them were considered to be 'disturbing.'

As the amusement drained away, Knives locked eyes with the aging doctor and made his simple demand.

"Tell me."

The doctor took a deep breath and began. His voice shook with nervousness at the beginning, but as he told Knives what he had discovered he became increasingly bold in his statements. Knives only occasionally interrupted him to ask questions or to clarify a finding, but not once did he lose his temper or threaten to lash out against the doctor for what he was suggesting. Conrad was quite surprised at the calmness of Knives' reaction, realizing all at once how desperate the free-born plant was to set his plans into motion. When it was all finally said and the details thoroughly explained, Knives only stood there in front of the old human, his mind working over the nuances of what he had just been told.

"I don't like it," the free-born plant said finally.

"I didn't think you would, but I thought the information could be useful."

Knives only nodded as he clenched his fists at his sides, clearly aggravated. The more he thought about it, the more his anger mounted. This was not the solution that Knives had hoped for. It was preposterous. Surely, the old man thought of something better than to use one of them.

"That is your suggestion then?" Knives glared at the doctor, "Your only suggestion?"

Conrad bit back a grimace at the tone of malice in Knives' words, "It is the only one that I think has a real chance for success." He paused, watching the plant grow increasingly tense. "I will need some biological samples from the Red Dune Laboratories first just to verify that my initial hypothesis regarding the Ryoushi bloodline. Then I will need current biological samples for further verification. If I am correct, then I think we should try for immediate implantation."

"How can you be so certain your hypothesis is correct?" Knives asked, not bothering to hide the doubt in his voice.

"I— well, I can't." Conrad admitted, "However, the circumstantial evidence indicates that significant chromosomal mutation must have occurred. It's certainly worth investigating. I think in this case, we should assume that some level of mutation has occurred. It's not without precedence. If that's the case, then we may be able to use the mutation to our advantage."

"My advantage, or yours?"

A slight smile tugged at the doctor's lips and he shrugged his shoulders. "Both. Yours more so than mine, of course."

"Of course." Knives sneered, turning his back on the doctor. The temptation to kill him was far too great if he looked at the human. Turning away from him was all Knives could do to keep from skewering the old man.

The blood lust had peaked as the free-born plant listened to Conrad's monstrous suggestion and now that urge was a tangible ache. Certainly, the old man realized that what he was proposing was not only morally degrading, but also abhorrently slanderous. Did he honestly believe that any of them would relish the idea of entrusting their survival to the flawed biology of a Homo sapien? Even one with a mutated, and arguably "improved," genetic structure?

Yet, the old man was perfectly serious and had sound reason to back up his preposterous theory. Knives couldn't argue with the human's logic and that, in and of itself, was infuriating.

"Your proposition is disgusting," Knives said finally as he opened his mind to his family. When the cacophony of angel voices became too much he silenced them in both thought and whisper, "This seems to be the only option available to us now."

The doctor remained silent as he waited for Knives to arrive at a decision. Seconds flowed into minutes as the room became thick with anticipation. Feeling ensnared by the tension, the doctor found himself suddenly speaking when he knew he should not.

"If I'm right, then her direct descendants are not completely human anymore, so..."

Knives turned his head and glared at him sharply, causing the doctor to trail off into silence.

"Not completely human? You think that makes a difference to me? This is an abomination!" Knives yelled just before turning his back to the doctor again. Willing himself to keep his rage in check, the free-born plant began to tremble, the flesh on his hands and arms throbbing painfully. His fists continued to clench and unclench beside him anxiously; small dagger-like knives began to bud along his arms.

This was not how he wanted the future to begin — and yet at every attempt to set his plan into motion he had failed. Failure was not acceptable and the alternative just suggested to him made his blood boil. There really was no other choice. If he did not do as the doctor suggested the seedling would most definitely die before it had a chance to live.

It had to live. It had to. It was the future.

If this was the only viable option to ensure the survival of the seedling, then Knives had no choice.

The doctor saw the tension drain out of Knives' back and the small buds shrink back into his flesh and knew that he would soon know what Knives' desire was. His breath caught in his throat as he waited.

Knives slowly turned around and faced the doctor fully, his eyes glowing dangerously in the darkness of the room. "Be ready. We're going to do as you suggest."